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AYBOY 


ENTERTAINMENT FOR MEN OCTOBER 1981 • $2.50 
“> 
» BREAKS OUT 
DONT MISS PART II IN A PLAYBOY 
PICTORIAL, 
ҺЕ Eas 
AN INTENSE 69 
INTERVIEW y» SEXY FILM, 
WITH DONALD \ G 
SUTHERLAND 
4 A PREVIEW 
AN EYEWITNESS OF THE AGE 
REPORT OF SEXUAL 
| | DETENTE 


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FOR WILDLIFE 
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FOR A WHILE in the Seventies, it seemed like we were in an 
all-out war between the sexes. It was macho versus militant 
in a running battle that saw many chauvinist tr ions fall 
before the forces of guilt ness. At PLAYBOY, we 
were particularly distressed, iculous enmity often 
obscured our best intentions. So we were especially pleased 
when our frontline correspondents, Laurence Shames and Bor- 
bara Grizzuti Harrison, in parallel articles jointly called The Age 
of Sexual Detente, ing of tensions. 

Other full attention V 
to the genuine hostilities in Central America, where El Salva- HARRISON 
already been compared to such hells as Afghanistan 
am. Christopher Dickey, Mexico City bureau chief for 
The Washington Post, has been on the scene now for nearly 
two years to provide us with a firsthand view of Death as a 
Way of Life. Graphics doyen Milton Glaser helped paint this 


a theory that getting the most out of life means 
lly puting your life on the linc. Writer Geoffrey 
Tobin and his cohorts, known collectively as the Oxford 
Dangerous Sports Club, do just that. "Fabin's chronicle of The 
World's Most Daring Sportsmen is illustrated in tenuously 
living color by Philip Castle. Adventurers of the armchair va 
can quicken their pulse i 
cerpt from Robert Stone's new novel, A Flag for Sunrise, soon 
to be published by Alfred A. Knopf. It's got drugs, sex and 
violence all set on a Central American gunrunning cruise. 

Actor Donald Sutherland was safe and sound in New York, 
where we tracked lı down. Sutherland, whose cinematic 
dventures are always a treat, bares heart and soul in this 
month's Playboy Interview, conducted by Claudia Dreifus. This 
is the real Sutherland, not the bod from the pod. 

Some preler to find their pods in Chinese restaurants and — pgrrrUs 
others prefer to pop them into a wok at home. Home cooking, 
it turns out, is enough to fill the curriculum of The Famous 
Writers’ Cooking School, a compendium of recipes from the 
likes of Irwin Shaw, William Styron, Ken Kesey and Tom Wolfe. Our 
excerpts are from the book The Great American Writers’ 
Cookbook, edited by Dean Faulkner Wells, to be published by 
Yoknapatawpha Press. 

More food for thought is college tition, now in the major- 
investment category. Funnyman Andrew Feinberg has dreamed 
up the first annual report that results when Harvard Gets 
Down to Business. As you might suspect, laughter is the majo 
dividend. 


MCNEESE MOSES, FEGLEY - 


So you think that beautiful women are born with beau 
ui 


ful wom 


ful social skills? Not so. Bea have to work thes 


person 
If you weren’ 


tin Atlantic City when our new Hotel and 
Casino opened, you mised a hell of a bash. Luckily, Senior 
Editor Gretchen McNeese, Associate Photo Editor Janice Moses 
d Stall. Photographer вока Fegley were on hand to record 
the virtues of the place for you. Check it out here, then check 
it out there, What to wear? David Plan has the answers in 
Playboy's Fall and Winter Fashion Forecast, lensed by Francis 
Сосо And Dan Quarnstrom illustrates the best in groom 
ids for the happy hirsute in The Kindest Cuts of All. Whar's 
all that pr wg lor? Girls, of course! The sort you'll find in 
of our s of the Southeastern Conference, put to- 

E ing Photographers David Chan, Arny Freytag 
nls Sherral Snow and Verser Engelhord. Maud Adams, 


and assista 


costar of the upcoming film Tattoo, is shown to best adv ` 
tage through the eyepiece of Denis Piel's camera, And look for à 


Playmate Kelly Tough, really just a softy. Star 


y where. 


ENGELHARD, SNOW, CHA PIEL 


PLAYBOY (55H 0032.1478), OCTOBER, 1981, VOL. 28, NO. то. PUBLISHED MONTHLY BY PLAYBOY IN NATIONAL ANO MEGIONAL EDITIONS, PLAYBOY BLOG... 919 N. MICHIGAN AVE.. сисо.. ILL. ов. 
Зно скаса POSTAGE PAID AT CHGD.. ILL.. A AT ADDL, MAILING OFFICES. SUBS уш тык U.E., PIA FOR Va aM 3575 TO PLAYBOY, P.O. BCR 2420, BOULDER, COLO. возо. 


LAYBOY 


vol. 28, no. 10—october, 1981 CONTENTS FOR THE MEN'S ENTERTAINMENT MAGAZINE 
5 
n 
15 
1 23 
BOOKS esee aie wince сш» кеша жый ra ales moss 130; 
Previews of fall releases; taming technology; a fascinating Nixon primer. 
MOVIES . Bee SUD EE SDE ЕЕ 33 


Sidney (Network) Lumet's Prince: а smart cop story; Chariots is a marathon- 
er's film thot really takes off; comedian Bill Murray stars in Stripes. 


TELEVISION 
Reviewing the new fall season: Has the Moral Majority turned prime time into 
the land of the simple-minded saga? 


(MUS Gira os СТЕРЕО 
The Commodores (Three Times a Lady) are still coming on stron: 
beckons bossman Springsteen. 


COMING ATTRACTIONS ее ка жаккка 49 
Bette Midler in Jinxed: guoronteed good luck; Richard (American Gigolo} 
Gere and Debra (Urban Cowboy) Winger team up for a new romantic flick. 


eeu. 44 
silver screen 


PLAYBOY'S TRAVEL GUIDE ................ STEPHEN BIRNBAUM 51 
Caribbean hotels where the customer's always right. 

THE PLAYBOY ADVISOR ........ m oan tees 53 

DEAR PLAYMATES ........ IT UA iwi SS Ea os OE LI 

THEIPEAYBOY FORUM сүл c. eese sees oder Urt 6l 


PLAYBOY INTERVIEW: DONALD SUTHERLAND—candid conversation.. 73 
The veteran of more than 40 films, including M*A*S*H, Klute and Ordinary 
People—all classics in their genres—tolks about life, love, politics, Jane Fonda 
{included under both love and politics}, the future of America and, of course, 
making movies. An extraordinarily frank interview with a camplex and brilliant 


artist. 

THE AGE ОР /SEXU AU DETENTE 202 rece ш ишин айыр вд» 94 
WELCOME TO THE 
POSTLIBERATION WORLD—article ....... . LAURENCE SHAMES 96 


After an era that brought new peaks of intensity, the war between the sexes 
is finally giving way ta a new accord. A report on the armistice. 


MUSINGS OF A NOT-SO-ANGRY 

WOMAN—article ............ BARBARA GRIZZUTI HARRISON 96 
After a decade when women inhaled indignation and exhaled feminist rage, 
they're ready to enjoy men again—ond to moke it easier for men to enjoy 
them, 


TATTOOED WOMAN—pictorial essay ......... BRUCE WILLIAMSON 100 
Do they make lave in the upcoming movie Tattoo or don't they? Co-stor 
Bruce Dem says they do. Leading lady (and farmer top model) Moud Adams 
says they dont. We'll just have to wait and see. In the meantime, the photos 

Revolutionary Reportage . of Maud may make us forget the question. 


GENERAL OFFICES: PLAYOOY BUILDING, 919 NORTH MICHIGAN AYE., CHICAGO, ILLINOIS SOM. METURN POSTAGE MUST ACCOMPANY ALL MANUSCRIPTS. DRAWINGS AND MOTOCRARNS 
TP THEY ARE TO BE RETURNED AND NO RESPONSIDILITY CAN BE ASSUMED FOR UNSOLICITED MATEALS. ALL RIGHTS IN LETTERS SENT TO PLAYBOY WILL BE TREATED AS UNCONDITIONALLY 
FOR PUBLICATION AND COPYRIGHT PU SUGIECT TO PLAYBOY S UNRESTRICTED RIGHT TO EDIT AND TO COMMENT EDITORIALLY. CONTENTS COPYRIGHT © 

Mots посетио, PLAYBOY ANO ABATE HEAD GYHBOL ARE МААКЕ OF PLAYEOY, PEGISTERED US. PATENT OFFICE. MARCA RECISTRADA, MARGUE DEFOSEE. NOTHING MAY EE REPRINTED IN WHOLE 
Ok IM PART WITHOUT WRITTEN PERMISSION FROM THE PUBLISHER. ANY SIMILARITY BETWEEN THE FEOPLE AND PLACES IN THE FICTION AND SIMIFICTION IN THIS MAGAZINE AND ANY REAL 
PEOPLE AND PLACES IS PURELY COINCIDENTAL. CREDITS: COVER: DESIGNED AND PHOTOGRAPHED EY TOM STAEDLER, OTHER PHOTOGRAPHY BY: BRENT DEAR, P. 1! (2); KEITH BUTLER/ 


COVER STORY 


| 
Cothy St. George, one of our West Coast make-up assistants and an upcoming Playmate 
lit is possible for a Playmate to be the girl next door), is the lady in the tux. Art 
Director Tom Staebler photographed her for our cover, which he says wos inspired 
by a favorite Vargas illustration. Funny how some women can wear a tuxedo well and 
, others can't. It all depends, we suspect, on wearing the right cuff links. 


DEATH AS A WAY OF LIFE—article ..... . .CHRISTOPHER DICKEY 108 
A reporter went to El Salvador to follow the course of American diplomacy ii in 
thot country and discovered that there's no way to be diplomatic in a nation 
gone mad without going slightly mad yourself in the process. 


HARVARD GETS DOWN TO BUSINESS—humor . . . ANDREW FEINBERG 112 
It's hard to make it these days if you're just selling higher education. But if 
you're selling higher education ond blue jeans and punk-classical and lottery 
games and movies. .. . 


THE KINDEST CUTS OF ALL—article ................. HENRY POST 114 
Here is oll the up-to-dote information you need to shave or shape your beard. 

TOUGHING IT—playboy's playmate of the month ............... 116 
When she's feeling bad, Kelly Tough can live up to her name. When she's 
feeling good, she can charm your socks off. 

PLAYBOY'S PARTY JOKES—humor ............................ 128 

A FLAG FOR SUNRISE—fiction .... -..ROBERT STONE 130 


The author of Dog Soldiers takes us into the world of Pablo Tabor, who picks 
up easy money running contrabond. The hard part is staying olive. 


PLAYBOY'S FALL AND WINTER 


FASHION FORECAST—attire ...................... DAVID PLATT 133 acu eng NOS 
The age of predictability for men's cold-weather wear hos ended; the dis- er чар чар 
tinctive look will be the unexpected. m el 

THE WORLD'S MOST DARING SPORTSMEN.—article. . GEOFFREY TABIN 140 au == Wa, mh, n 
Defying death for the sake of amusement, the Oxford Dangerous Sports Club | 
has elevated the cheap thrill to on ort form. = کی‎ З s 

GIRLS OF THE SOUTHEASTERN CONFERENCE, PART Il—pictorial ..... 143 Wo. ь 


We bring you the second installment of the ladies (and pride) of the colleges 
in the Southeast. Ah, school daze. 


SHORT TALES FROM THE RENAISSANCE—ribald classic ............ 153 Writers’ Reposts 
THE WINE-COCKTAIL HOUR—drink ......... EMANUEL GREENBERG 154 


If you sometimes get tired of making your drinks with high-proof potables, 
why not try delicious, refreshing wine mixers? 


THE PLAYBOY HOTEL AND CASINO, ATLANTIC CITY—pictorial essay.. 156 
For the best in gaming, elegant surroundings and luxurious accommodations, 
you'll hit the jackpot at our newest hotel. 


THE FAMOUS WRITERS’ COOKING SCHOOL—humor ....... .. 163 
You never know what youre going to get when you ask big-time literary 
types to give you their favorite recipes. There's Harry Crews's Snake Steak, 
Roy Blount, Jr.'s Ode to Grits, Ken Kesey on Huevos Whateveros and others, 
including Irwin Shaw, Tom Wolfe and Norman Mailer. 


PLAYBOY FUNNIES—humor.' cs ueniens pre aa yea heme we 168 
PLAYBOY POTPOURRI а А еен еа. 212 
WORD PLAY—satire . . . ROBERT CAROLA 223 
PLAYBOY PUZZLE ....... ..EILEEN KENT 239 


PLAYBOY ON THE SCENE . 243 
Better safe than sorry; deor from Conal Street; Grapevine; Sex News. Perilaus Play P. 140 
. їн: CARR STUDIOS, P. 12; DAVID CHAN, т. за CLIFTON, ғ, в: VERSER ENGELHATD, Р. з. 163; STEVE EWERT, P. эз; BILL FRANTZ, P. 12; LAURIE KASSMAN, P. 5; 


апа, 213, JANES LARSON, P. 3 (2); LARRY LOGAN, 


TED ARTISTS, Р. 49 (IDLER); DENNIS 
PLAYBOY'S FALL AMD WINTER FASHION 
WS SHOES--PANLALDI, WOMEN'S JEWELAT—CARTIEM а MERMES; MEN'S SHOES—EAUD FFIZON а HERMES, MEN'S WATCHES —CARTIER 8 HERPES; RED CASHMERE. SHAWL 
WS BY: Jiu LANGE, P. 26; PAUL NOCH, P. 30 (2); ROY MOODY, P. 212; PAT NAGEL, P. 23, 53, 61; KERG POPE, P. WI, өз (2); BOR POST, P. їз (2); SLUG 
I PAUL VACCARELLO, P. 242; LEN WILLIS, P. 60, zu d» вы 


SICNORINO, т. 


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К ing symbol of ош country write Eagle Rare, Box 13, New York: NY ЗЇ. 


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No bird in America can soar as high as the eagle. 
No Kentucky Bourbon tastes so fine as Eagle Rare 
Whiskey that has been smoothed and mellowed by 
ten years of careful aging. Eagle Rare. 

We challenge anyone to match our spirit. 


One taste and you'll know whyit's expensive. 


PLAYBOY 


HUGH M. HEFNER 
editor and publisher 


NAT LEHRMAN associate publisher 


ARTHUR KRETCHMER editorial director 
ARTHUR PAUL art director 
DON GOLD managing editor 
GARY COLE photography director 
С. BARRY GOLSON executive editor 
TOM 


AEBLER executive art director 


EDITORIAL 
ARTICLES: JAMES MORGAN edilor: non FEEDER 
associate editor; FICTION: ALICE к. TURNER 
editor; TERESA GROSCH associate editor; WEST 
COAST: STEPHEN RANDALL. editor: STAFF 
WILLIAM J. HELMER, GRETCHEN MC NEESE, DAVE 
STEVENS senior editors: RONERT E. CARR, WALTER 
LOWE, JR, JAMES R. PETERSEN senior staj) 
writers; BARBARA NELLIS, КАТЕ NOLAN, J. F 
O'CONNOR, JOHN REZFK associate editors; SUSAN 
MARGOLIS: WINTER, TOM PASSAVANT. asociate 
new york edilors; KEVIN соок assistant edi- 
tor: SERVICE FEATURES: 10M OWEN modern 
living editor; ED WALKER, MARC R. WILLIAMS 
assistant editors; DAVID PLATT fashion director 
MARLA SCHOR assistant editor; CARTOONS 
MICHELLE URRY editor; COPY: ARLENE BOURAS 
editor; CAROLYN BROWNE, JACKIE JOHNSON, 
MARGY MARCHI, RARI LYNN NASII, CONAN 
PUTNAM, DAVID TARDY, MARY ZION researchers: 
CONTRIBUTING EDITORS: ASA BABER, STE- 
PHEN BIRSBAUM (travel), JOHN BLUMENTHAL, 
LAWRENCE 5, DIETZ, LAURENCE GONZALES, LAW- 
RENCE сковы. ANSON MOUNT, PETER KOSS 
RANGE, RICHARD RHODES, JOUN SACK, DAVID 


STANDISH, BRUCE WILLIAMSON (movies) 
ART 
kewe rome managing director; iex wuass, 


CHET SUSKE senior (ireclors; BRUCE HANSEN, 

POST, SKI WILLIAMSON associate directors; 
TO KOUVATSOS, JOSEPH PACZER assistant 
directors; BEM KASIK senior art assistant; 
PEARL MIURA, ANN SEIDL art assistants; SUSAN 
HOLMSTROM traffic coordinalor; BARBARA 
HOFFMAN administrative manager 


PHOTOGRAPHY 
MARILYN CRABOWSEI west coast editor; JEFF 
COHEN, JAMES LARSON, JANICE MOSES associate 
editors: VATVY BEAUDET, LINDA KENNEY 
MICHAEL. ANN SULLIVAN assistant editors; 
RICHARD FEGLEY, POMPEO POSAR staff photog 
Japlicrs; MA. ARSENAULT, DON AZUMA, MARIO 
CASILLL DAVID CHAN, NICHOLAS DE SCIOSE, 11 
LIP DIXON, АНХУ FREYTAG, DWIGHT HOOKER, 
т. SCOTT HOOPER, RICHARD IZUI, STAN MALIN: 
owski, REN MARCUS conbibuling phologra- 
phers; JENN PIERRE HOLLEY (Paris), LUISA 
STEWART (Rome) contributing editors; JAMES 
waro color lab supervisor: woneRr CHELIUS 
business manager 


PRODUCTION 
топу mastro director; ALLEN VARGO manager; 
MARIA MANDIS asst, Mg7.j ELEANORE WAGNER, 
JODY JURGETO, RICHARD QUARTAROLI assistants 


READER SERVICE 
CYNTHIA LACEY-SIKICH miaiager 


CIRCULATION 
RICHARD ямата director: ALVIN: WIEMOLD stb- 
scription manager 


“ADVERTISING 
HENRY зу. MARKS director 


ADMINISTRATIVE 
MICHAEL LAURENCE Ditsiness manager; PATRICIA 
PAPANGELIS administrative editor; raviErir 
лит rights & permissions manager; ми 
DRED ZIMMERMAN administrative assistant 


PLAYBOY ENTERPRISE! 
DERICK J, DANIELS president 


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WHY FRYE? OUR STYLES MAY 
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THE BEST. 


THE WORLD OF PLAYBOY 


in which we offer an insider's look at what's doing and who's doing it 


| Ai 


ROUND AND ROUND AND UP AND DOWN WE GO 


Above left, Hef hoops up for his annual Memorial Day Madcap Marathon, an inspiring 
occasion characterized by offbeat athletic contests among his friends. Some call 
it the clash of the celebrity titans. Above right, marathoner Ciri, evidencing the fact 
that Playboy Mansion West is truly a sportsman’s paradise, suits up for the vigorous, 
if not exactly rigorous, wet-T-shirt event. With games like this, who needs the N.F.L.? 


HOPPING DOWN THE BUNNY TRAIL 


The Nylons, a campy Canadian singing group, serenade Bunny April at the Chicago 
Playboy Club, where the quartet played an engagement earlier this year. The 
group's well-staged a cappella revue is destined for other Playboy Club appearances. 


BARBARAMANIA! 


Last January, Barbara Bach starred 
in her own PLAYBOY pictorial. Below, 
Bach exits London's Marylebone 
Town Hall with her new husband, 
Ringo Starr, his daughter Lee (left) 
and Bachs daughter Francesca 
(right). We figure Ringo liked the pic- 
tures we ran, like the one at the bot- 
tom of this page. Probably enough to 
make anyone pop the question, right? 


a 


ANNIVERSA] 
^ Iss 


100! 
ср 
RBS 


THE WORLD OF PLAYBOY 


"m К BLACK BLOWS HIS COVER 


ч Ex-undercover narc Dan Black (center) talks about 

the July PLAYBOY article about his adventures, 
Undercover Angel, on ABC's Good Morning Amer- 
ica with host David Hartman (right) and Bruce 
Jensen of the Drug Enforcement Administration. 


iil 


PLAYMATE UPDATE: 2» 
BRIDGETT IS j ТА 
REALLY PUMPING £ ч ] 


May 1975 Playmate 
Bridgett Rollins, who 
continues to be a 
sought-after Hous- 
ton model, recently 
showed up on the 
cover of (right) 
and inside (be- 
low) Texas 
Country maga- 
zine as its Tex- 
as Country 


~~ 


VERMONT'S HOMECOMING QUEEN 


Above left, Jeannette Wulff flaunts the trappings of her fresh victory as the 
new Miss Vermont. Before returning to her native state, Jeannette worked 
in Washington, D.C., where we spotted her for our Women in Govern- 
ment pictorial last November. Above right, Jeannette as we remember her. 


Bridgett Rollins 


AS COUNTRY LADY 
е country ond this month, TEXAS 
ye; y Lody 


lessons, hoping 10 gel inio 
ard movies thot ore shat 


reason ts her new nterest noc 
eris her hope 1o one doy gel 


porlicularly good-looking 
КЕ 

Well Bridgett. we think 
youre dong just fne 
bre Te N: 
т 


ENTERTAINING THE TROOPS 


A trio of modern-day Andrews Sisters greets Bob Hope on his arrival for a 
sold-out booking at the Playboy Resort and Country Club at Lake Geneva, 
Wisconsin. Members of the trio are (from left) Chicago Bunny Angie Ches- 
ler and Playboy Customer Service Reps Maggie Flynn and Fawn Hughes. 


IMPORTED CANADIAN WHISKY A BLENO‘BO PROOF «CALVERT DIST, CO. N.X.C. f 


Head for the top. Head for a Canadian 
so good, it takes the efforts of four 


distilleries from Manitoba to Quebec 
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APOCALYPSE ENOW 
For elucidating so many elemental 
questions about war, nationalism and 
loyalty in such a compelling manner, 
the Robert Garwood interview (PLAYBOY, 
July) has to be the most profound I 
have ever read. 
Paul Belasik 
Chadds Ford, Pennsylvania 


Garwood's dishonorable discharge 
makes me ashamed to be an American. 
Who can judge the acts of a man who 
has spent his entire adult life as а POW 
in the hellish jungles of Vietnam? Gar- 
wood has nothing to apologire for. He is 
another victim, another casualty of the 
Vietnam war. He was sent to Vietnam 
by his country and was unfortunate 
enough to be in the wrong place at the 
wrong time. He paid for it with almost 
half of his life. But he is home now, 
and we should be glad one more Amer- 
ican lived through that war. It's time to 
forget it, to stop punishing people for 
ever parts they played in it. We 
ave more pressing issues to contend 
with than drumming Robert Garwood 
out of the Marine Corps for crimes he 
never committed. 


wi 


Brad Brekke 
Calgary, Alberta 


Survival is one thing; collaborating 
with the enemy is another. Garwood 
definitely gave aid and comfort to the 
enemy, and our Gls suffered because of 
ions. I feel for Garwood but 
respect for the heroes who 
lives in the fight to halt 
nist aggression. 

Kent Ebner 
Wynnewood, Oklahoma 


reserve 


So poor Carwood is an innocent v 
tim of circumstance who was held cap- 
tive for М years by the nasty North 
Vietnamese. He says he shot at a Viet 


Cong with his 45 and yet all they could 
do with rifles was wound him in the 
arm. Bobby also states he helped the 
V.C./ N.V.A. only because he was forced 
to. Anyone who believes that should 
read Survivors by Zalin Grant. It dc- 
scribes how, in July 1968, a Marine 
reconnaissance patrol fired on several 
enemy, including a Caucasian who cried, 
“Help me!" when shot by the Marines. 
The white man was a member of an 
enemy patrol, wore the enemy's uniform 
with a red sash lor identification and 
carried an AK-47 assault rifle. According 
to a POW in Garwood's camp, Bob left 
the camp for three or four weeks during 
July of ‘68. Sounds to us like Garwood. 
was an enlisted man for the other side. 

James Gregory 

Dean Vanzanardi 

Robert Collins 

Marine Corps Vietnam Veterans 

San Dicgo, California 


"Thank you, ргАувоу, for allowing us 
to see just how the war unfolded for 
Garwood. I hope that one day the зире! 
hteous men in our military and 
Government will stop looking for a 
scapegoat for their own mistakes. 

Scott T. Bowman 
Remington, Indiana 


To deny Garwood any compensation 
for the 14 years he spent in hell, as pun- 
ishment for obeying an order, is a crime 
of borderless dimension. 

Craig Ashley Heaps 
Vietnam Veteran 
Buffalo, New York 


POPPING THE PILL 

It is about time you published an 
le like David Black's Beyond the 
Pill (pLaywoy, July). It's about time men 
realize what women go through for the 
"ideal contraceptive." Men contribute 


PLAYBOY, (ISSN 0032-1478), OCTOBER, 1881, VOLUME 26, NUMER 10. PUBLISHED MONTHLY BY PLAYBOY, PLAYBOY BLDG., 918 N, 


MICHIGAN AVE., CHICAGO, ILL. вот. SUBSE 
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THYRISTOR 


15 


PLAYBOY 


16 


There's a race of men that don't fil in, 
A race that can 


1 stay still; 


A one hundred proof potency that 
simmers just below the surface. Yet, 
зо smooth and flavorful, it's unlike 
any Canadian liquor you've ever 
tasted. Straight, mixed, or on the 
rocks, Yukon Jack is truly a spirit 
unto Itself. 


The Black Sheep of Canadian Liquors. 


100 Proof Imported Liqueur 
made with Blended Canadian Whisky. 


‘Yukon Jack. Imported and Bottled by Heublein Inc. Hartloro. 
Conn, Sole Agents U.S.A? & 1907 Dodd, Mead & Co., Inc. 


50 percent to conception, so they had 
better learn to contribute 50 percent to 
contraception. 
Anita Franzione 
Health Committee Coordinator 
National Organization of Women 
New York, New York 


What Black has succeeded in doing 
is perpetuating and amplifying anxiety 
about the pill, which is, in fact, one of 
the safest and most effective drugs ever 
invented. Everything in life is a trade-off, 
a balance of benefit and risk. To con- 
centrate on the hazards of the pill is a 
dishonest presentation. 

Joseph W. Goldzieher, M.D. 

San Antonio, Texas 


In Black's excellent Beyond the Pill, 
а brief quote from me implies a rejec- 
ig methods. 
The quote is too short to express my 


tion of natural-family-plan 


views accurately—may I add a fe 
words? Our pregnancy counselors see 
clients every day who say they have 


al methods" 
to prevent 


been depending on "nati 
or "rhythm" or “timing” 
pregnancy. Many of those "natural fam- 
ily planners" figure their safe period on 
misinformation—from the tail end of a 
talk show or from a friend whose friend 
is studying to be a veterinarian. That 
way it doesn't work! They become preg 
nant faster than you can say “Billi 
Natural family planning does work, but 
only if it is studied seriously 
conscientiously by people who are highly 
motivated to make it work, 

Lyn McKee 

Contra Costa Planned Parenthood 

Walnut Creek, California 


and uscd 


My congratulations to Black. He has 
surely opened the door for birth-control 
Keep up the good work, 
thanks for keeping us 


responsibility. 
PLAYBOY, and 
informed. 
(Name withheld by request) 
Prosperity, South Carolina 
Thank you, rtaysoy! It’s time this 
health-conscious society became aware 
of the very real dangers of that tiny and 
innocent-looking pill. 
Susan Ka 
Fort Worth, 


Buchen 
Texa 


PITCHER PERFECT 
My cap is off to Pat Jordan for Pitch- 
ers Duel (rtavnoy, July). The article is 
one of the best I have seen in my ten 
years as a reader of PLAYBOY. 
Dave Smith 
Hummelstown, Pennsylvania 


I read your fine article Pitchers’ Duel 
with interest, being a former ballplayer 
myself. While playing high school ball, 
I faced Fairfield Prep Pat Jordan. 


Could this be the same Pat Jordan? I 
might add that I hit him pretty well! 
Bob Weir 
Clearwater, Florida 
Jordan did, indeed, prep [or his pro 
career at Fairfield. His high school rec- 
ord was 17-4, so he didn't take many in- 
voluntary showers. 


HARE APPARENT 

Here is a shot of the giant Rabbit 
Head that popped out of a dear blue 
sky over Reno. PLAYBOY has put a lot of 


people on cloud nine, but I didn't know 
you went up there yourselves. 
Robert Antuna 
Reno, Nevada 
We could say that you never know 
where our nimble nimbus might show 
up. Or, well, simply that Big Bunny is 
watching you. 


BODY AND SOUL SEARCHING 
Let's hear it for Jayne and Leon Isaac 
Kennedy! My husband and I both rc; 
PLAYBOY, and of all the layouts we've 
scen, Body and Soulmates is the best! 
This one will keep us talking. 
Mr. and Mrs. Jesse A. Scars, Jr. 
Fort Collins, Colorado 


Apparently, my July copy of rLavnoy 
is missing a few pages. I'm still looking 
for the “sizzling photos” of Jayne Ken- 
nedy promised on the cove 

William Keith 
La Marque, Texas 


Thanks, brin 
subject of our fantasies to us fantasizing 
fellows. Jayne Kennedy is undoubtedly 
the most beautiful woman in America. 
Joseph Rap! 


Rochester, New York 


pravsoy, for ng the 


Jayne Kennedy is the Eighth Wonder 
of the World. I love your pictorial on 
her and look forward to her remake of 
Body and Soul. 


Teddy Ramsey 
New York, New York 


Т have been a faithful reader of your 
magazine for many years, and I must 
express my disappointment. Why print 


GIVE MORE 
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Enter additional subscriptions on separate sheet. 
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PLAYBOY 


18 


postage-stamp-size inserts of truly volup- 
tuous women and then give us full-page 
blowups of Jayne Kennedy's tongue? Is 
there a controversy over Jayne's tongue 
Iam not aware of? 
David T. Jervis 
Wichita, Kansas 


Many thanks for your July cover and 
pictorial featuring the beautiful Jayne 
Kennedy and her husband, Lcon. Con- 
gratulations for a job well done. 

Marc D. Brown 
Atlanta, Georgia 


Туе been reading rLAvnov for 20 years 
and, in my opinion, it has always been 
the best m: е of its kind. However, 
your July issue pissed me olf something 
fierce! Body and Soulmates is about as 
sizzling as a trayLul of ice. 

Henry A. Williams 
Roseburg, Oregon 

We thought the layout was appropri- 
ately braisin’. Apparently, one man's size 
ale is another man's fiz 


HEADY HEIDI 
A thousand thanks for July's dazzling 
Playmate, Heidi Sorenson. She is truly 
one of the most gorgeous women ever to 
grace your pages. Chalk up our three 
votes for Heidi as Playmate of the Year. 
"The Men of the George 
Jenkins Bunkhouse 
Ashby, Nebraska 


Bravo! Thanks to Ken Marcus and 
vLAYBOY. There couldn't be many things 
better than a long Northern night with 
that spectacular Scandinavian, Heidi 
Sorenson. 
Warren Eckstein 
Woodbury, New Jersey 


I want to commend Ken Marcus for 
his beautiful photography of Heidi Sor- 
enson. She is by far the most natural and 
picturesque girl you've featured in years. 

Bob Spector 
Eugene, Oregon 


Т can find only one thing wrong with 

the pictorial on Heidi Sorenson. It ends, 
(Name withheld by request) 
St. Louis, Missouri 


We, the brothers of the Mu-Mu Chap- 


ter of Tau Kappa Epsilon, will never sce 
other strawberry Danish without 
ng of Heidi Sorenson. She is 


delectable! 
‘The Brothers of Tau Kappa Epsilon 
Hofstra University 
Hempstead, New York 


Something is fresh from the state of 
Denmark, and that something is Heidi 
Sorenson. Heidi, to thine own self ГЇЇ 


be true, and when I sleep, perchance TI 
dream of you. My kingdom for one more 
look at July's Playmate. 
Duncan Brindley 
Indianapolis, Indiana 
Here's Heidi’s curtain call, Duncan, 
but there's no need to be melodramatic. 


Keep your kingdom we'll settle for a 
pound of flesh. 


FETAL POSITIONS 

I've just finished reading "Illegalizing 
Abortion," by Peter Ross Range, in 
PLAYBOY July Viewpoint. 1 only hope 
the majority of the people who read it 
will be affected in the same way that I 
have becn. I'm getting off my duff and 
writing to my Senators and Congressmen, 
urging them to vote against anti-abor- 
tion legislation! There are only a couple 
of circumstances under which 1 would 
have an abortion, but that doesn't mean 
everyone must. feel the same way. Other 
people have to make their own deci 
sions. If the pro-lifers have their way, 
Prohibition may well look like a picnic 
in comparison to their "brave new 
world." 


Deloris C. Stephenson 
Nashville, Tennessee 


Range's polemics do nothing to settle 
the matter. He insists it’s settled and. 
those who still have questions are part 
c fringe mumbling prayers 
and thumping Bibles. Most of the “foes 
of abortion” are not of the hysterical 
right; they are thoughtful ci 
have questions about the issue. 

John Revelle, Cha 
California Libertarian 
Rohnert Park, California 


of a lun 


I believe that if a woman wants a 
career, she should certainly go ahead 
and enter the onc of her choice. But 
women's liberation does not give a wom- 
an the right to kill an unborn child. The 
fetus is not simply a part of the woman's 
body. It is a separate living being with 
its own distinctive. blood supply and 
gencti cup (as evidenced by the 


Rivfactor problem). I feel that the prod- 


uct of conception is a living human and 
that pregnancy termination is a form 


of murder, no matter how cuphonious 
the cuphemisms you couch it in. 
J.P. Manfred, R.Ph. 
Jerseyville, Illinois 


Thank you for July's Viewpoint, The 
Helms-Hatch-East strategy is one of the 
Most insidious attacks on privacy and 
individual freedom that I can recall (I 
was a mere chill at the time of the 
McCarthy hearings) 

Deenie Dudley 

Catholics for a Fi 

Atlanta, С 


ee Choice 


Can an ovum be made a human being 
at the moment of fertilization by act of 
Congress? That would be bureaucracy 
gone mad. 

Alan Williamson 
San Antonio, Texas 


SCULL-DUGGERY 


E 


“Why didn't we think of that? А coxperson!” 


Your July issue is great stem to stern. 
However, nautically speaking, Inter- 
Iandi's cartoon depicting the shell racing 
a bit confused. The “coxperson” is a 
great incentive, but the scull should be 
going the other way. 

D. T. Martin 
Greensburg, Pennsylvania 


I enjoyed the joke but, because of my 
rowing days, noticed that the boat with 
the “coxperson” was in last place. Crew 
is one of the lew sports in which you 
move backward to win, But maybe if our 
coxswain had looked like that, we would 
have forgotten about the r: 
more time practicing our str 

Gregg Kurita 
Oakland, California 

Different strokes for different folks, 
gentlemen. Our rowers may have lost the 
race, but they all enjoyed the shell game. 


IT WASAGREAT GAME, BUT 
IT'S GOOD TO BE HOME. 


Right now you are wishing you didn't 
eat so many hot dogs and drink that last 
can of beer. But you're home now. 


your discomfort. 


You know that for upset 
And right there, stomach with headache, 
between the cotton balls ES n nothing works better, 
and the bandages, you a nothing is more soothing 
find your Alka-Seltzer® Р; than Alka-Seltzer. 
As you listen to the No wonder it's 
familiar fizz of those — America's Home Remedy 


ALKA-SELTZER. AMERICA'S HOME REMEDY. 


Read and follow label directions. ©1981 Miles Laboratories, Inc 


с ric пич 


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


.۰ " س 
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сам 
LIGHTS d, 


Low tar. Camel taste. 


PLAYBOY 


4 [3 
^e 
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“Gilbey: 


LJ 
е мул 
* aste the ріп, (оо. . js 

* Gilbey’s Gin is made with a unique idea in mind. PO. ^ 


The taste of the gin is important and should not be hidden 
bythe mixer. So when you drink a Gilbey's Gin & Tonic, 


you'll taste the gin, too. 


PLAYBOY AFTER HOURS 


SUBCONSCIOUSLY FUNNY 

The following blurb appeared in the 
program of the 1981 Western Psychologi- 
cal Association convention: 

“More Sports Results 
Hills Freudians t 
rians 0-0 last Saturday night. The match 
started with a long period of silence 
while the Freudians waited for the Ro- 
gerians to free-associate and the Roge- 
rians waited for the Freudians to say 
something they could paraphrase. The 
stalemate was broken when the Freud- 
ns’ best player took the offensive and 
interpreted the Rogerians’ silence as re- 
flecting their anal-retentive personalities. 
At this the Rogerians’ star player said, ‘I 
hear you saying you think we're full of 
kaka.’ This started a fight and the match 
was called by officials. 

Does ABC-TV know about this? 


The Beverly 
ed the Chicago Roge- 


WHAT'S YOUR SEASON? 

Raquel Welch and Hugh Hefner are 
ишип. Robert Young and Grace Kelly 
Doris Day is (of course) 
spring and Sly Stallone is winter. In sun- 
n, getting 
skinny and getting your chart done were 
once all the rage, “getting your colors 
done” now has people climbing out of 
their hot tubs in droves. For anywhere 
from $50 to $300 per consultation, a 
"color analyst" will study the elfects of 
thousands of diflerent-colored fabrics 
against your face and reveal what scason 
your colors correspond to. 

A San ауса analyst who 
has been raising Californians’ color con- 
sciousness for five years says business has 
never been better. For him, knowing 
your colors is “more important than 
make-up, because even though you get 
wrinkles and gray hair as you get older, 
your colors stay the same from the day 
you're born. If you know your season, 
you'll always look your best.” 


€ summer. 


ny California, where getting t 


Francisco- 


OK, this for extra credit: What's Rip 
Taylor's sc all 
avoid it? 


son? And how can we 


WHEN YOU'RE HOT, YOU'RE SOT 

You say the air conditioning in your 
office building is on the fritz? You say 
you just can't stand working in an at- 
mosphere where there isn't enough at- 
mosphere to go around? Relax. Have a 
drink. When you're done with that, have 
another. That's the advice given by 
Working Mother magazine, a publica 
tion that, after consulting with doctors, 
says that tanking up is a neat way to 
beat the heat while on the job. "It will 
dilate blood vessels and allow them to 
get rid of excess heat,” says the mag. 
Even better for playing it cool, it con- 
tinues, is doling all your clothes at the 
typewriter. This practice, however, it 
warns, "is not usually an option in the 


office.” If Working Mother keeps t 
sort of editorial slant, very soon it will 
have two sister publications: Unem- 
ployed Mother and Arrested Mother. 


SMELLS LIKE ART 

When Los Angeles Times art critic 
Suzanne Muchnic gave a bad review to 
artist Lee Waisler, a guy who describes 
himself as a “highly regarded abstract 
expressionist,” she never counted on a 
counterreview, She felt that his work w 
crap. He was delighted to prove it. 

And so, one fine day, Waisler drove a 
red dump truck to the entrance of the 


Times and unloaded several tons of 
horse manure on the street to “clear 
the air." 


On top of the pile, prior to unloadi 
Waisler placed a large black h 
the label A ckrriCs CHOICE on it. AL 
though the editors of the Times offered 
no comment on the work, they obviously 
thought it stank. Waisler felt, however, 
that he was only doing critic Muchnic a 


avas wi 


favor. The dung was delivered. he said, 
to “replenish Muchnies diminishing 
supply. 


HANKY SPANKY 

In April of 1978, the Reverend James 
Roy. a Baptist minister, had an argu- 
ment with his 14-year-old daughter, Shir- 
ley. She wanted to wear slacks out of the 
house. He forbade it, citing Deuteron- 
omy 22:5. “The woman shall not wear 
that which pertaineth unto a man, nei- 
ther shall a man put on a woman's 
garment. 

Unimpressed, Shirley wore her slacks. 
When she went home, the reverend pad- 
dled her with a shingle. Shirley didn't 
take that sitting down. And so, with 
bruises on her buns, she went to family 
court. The Reverend Roy found him- 
sell convicted of child neglect. His 
daughter moved in with courtappointed 
guardians and, since that time, Roy 


23 


PLAYBOY 


has lost every appeal of the case he 
launched. 

To this day, the clergyman thinks the 
entire incident wasn't his fault. He had 
spanked her only once before, he insists, 
and as for that damaging evidence of 
fered by his daughter, he says that she 
had gone roller-skating that even 


“and fell a couple of times on her but 
tocks. Those bruises could possibly have 


been caused by roller skate: 
Either that or the Devil made him 
do it. 


SHUT UP AND LIVE 

If you're very quiet, you can prob 
sneak a lot more years onto your 
span. According to Dr. James J. Lı 
director of the psychophysiological clinic 
at the University of Maryland Medical 
School in Baltimore, tests conducted on 
600 people showed that talking ra 
blood pressure by up to 50 percent. Dr. 
Lynch says communication is the key. IE 
you keep your mouth shut, you can 
probably live a lot longer. Lynch doesn't 
exactly know what to do with his find- 
ings: he sincerely hopes they don't en- 
cou persons with high blood pressure 
“to become mutes.” Then again, have 
you ever noticed how Marcel Marceau 
never scems to 


NUT CASE 

Sometimes you [ecl like a nut and 
sometimes you're arrested for it. When 
St. Louis detective John Russo spotted 
Emma Harris riding on a bus and cat- 
ing cas ‚ he saw red. Although off 
duty, the dedicated. detective. promptly 
arrested nurse Emma after watching her 
down nuts. He stated that she was 
violating a city ordinance banning 
munching on public transport. Although 
Harris insisted Russo should have issued 
a warning before pouncing, she ended 
up paying court costs as а condition of 
dismissal of the case. 


THE INCREDIBLE SHRINKER MAN 

Screwing around on the job can be 
hazardous, especially if you're a psychi 
trist. Dr. Zane Parzen of La Jolla, Cali- 
fornia, is finding t 1 way; 
he's currently facing а $5,000,000 1 
suit instigated by expatient Evelyn 
Walker. According to Evelyn, the doc 
had this nasty habit of seducing her 
during therapy sessions and then charg- 
ing her the full $55 fee for the exper 
ence. Dr. Parzen has admitted his gu 
Because Evelyn did not bring cha 
until after the one-year statute of lim 
tions had run out, however, everyone ex 
pected the case to be tossed out of court 
Not so. A local jury ruled that the suit 
was tailor-made for the doc and should 
be allowed to stand. The reason? Fvely 
lawyer successfully argued that her tardi- 
ness was due to the lact that after Parzen 
ditched her, she became a borderline 


s 


psychotic and was unable to realize that 
she had been damaged. Wow. If they 
ever make a movie out of all this, there's 
a great role there for Meryl Streep, Jill 


Clayburgh or Michael J. Pollard. 


CHECKING IN 


David Lees, a Hollywood free-lancer 
and co-author of the recently published 
“The Movie Business,” interviewed Teri 
бот on the lot of Zoetrope Studios. 
Lees reports: “She did her needlepoint 
while we talked. She told me she had 
hired an interior decorator to help her 
fix up her house—but she was trying 
to talk the decorator into using props 
from the set of ‘One from the Heart, 
in order lo save money.” 

PLAYBOY: Someone once described your 
best-known screen roles, in Close En- 
counters of the Third Kind and Oh, 
God! as ch: d 
of earnest dizziness. How much of that 
is you? 

Garr: The parts were not written by me, 
but I guess there has to be an element 
of me in them. On Close Encounters, 
I went out and stayed with my sister-in- 
law in Orange County, California, and 
1 went to Tupperware parties, and I 
found out what the housewife syndrome 
is. When I got the part for Oh, God! 
was the same thing. I didn't have to 
really do much. 

PLAYBOY: Was there any reaction from 
the women's movement conce 
parts? 

GARR: No, but when T played the ser- 
geant on McCloud, 1 was accused of per- 
petuating the myth that women are good. 
just for making coffee. It breaks my 
ise I don't believe that. On 
d, I've got to make a living 
1 а с лһе 
wisted in society, 


ters possessed of a 


ning those 


heart, be 
the other ha 
nd Гус got to bu 
person I portrayed 


eer. 


and its all right to show that the world 
is offensive. 

PLAYBOY: On the other hand. your cur- 
rent role in One from the Heart could 
only be called a romantic lead. Are you 
comfortable with that departure? 

Garr: I was very happy with this part; 
Id never done the lead, the ce 
woman part The really good th 
about this part is that Francis Coppol 
makes a comment about what is h 
pening now in society. In the movie, 
Fredric Forrest and 1 play a couple of 
lowlife people. Later in the story, we 
split up and he goes off with a girl and 
I go off with a guy. Forrest goes com- 
pletely crazy to the point where he comes 
to the motel room and grabs me out of 
bed from this other guy. In other words, 
Coppola is saying men can dish it out, 
but they can't take it. 

PLAYBOY: Since it is a romantic part, 
with Fredric Forrest and Raul Julia 
competing for you, we're moved to ask 
il you believe romantic love. Or 
would you prefer something tawdry and 
unhygienic? 

GARR: Absolutely. Anything wil 
and leather. No, no, just kiddin 
lieve in romantic love. But romantic 
love can be neurotic love. I talk to guys 
and they say, “I love this girl. She 
wouldn't even look in my direction. T 
held this torch for her for years.” And 
I want to say to them, “What are you, 
crazy?” 

PLAYBOY: Have you ever done that? 

слив: That's the story of my life! Гуе 
had 85 guys like that. And all of them 
at best were indifferent to me. Most of 
them didn't like me, but some of them 
tolerated me for a brief timc. 

Lwnov: And now that you're a movie 
slat... 

GARR: I hope they come back. And ГЇЇ 
say. "Too late." Now I go out with a 
guy who's really nice and who's crazy 
about me. I can barely adjust to it. He 
likes me. He thinks I'm fine. He's gonna 
turn around one day and say, "You 
bitch, I've taken enough!” 

AyBoy: Do movies cost too much to 
ke these days? 
Garr: I think they're outrageously cx- 
pensive. Please, $20,000,000! People are 
starving in this world. The way movies 
are made is determined by the unions. 
You've got eight guys holding the cable. 
They've outdone themselves with that 
shit. In Europe, you can make a great 
movie for $60,000. When we did Close 
Encounters, Truffaut was just dumfound 
ed. He said, “It cost $250,000 for that 
shot they just did with the helicopter. 1 
could make a movie for that. And they 
did two takes!" 

Аүвоү: Is your agent contributing to 
the high cost of films? 

Gare: Believe me, i'm an unknown as 
far as money goes. T just turned down 
three movies, and the only reason I 


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In the 1980 Winter Olympics, Hockey 
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now Mike is using that artistry in a way 
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Mike's been commissioned by Budweiser 
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Mike's creation depicting the path of the 
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Now, signed high-quality litho- 
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PLAYBOY 


26 


Ever since Kim Carnes's pipes hit 
the top of the charts with “Bette 
Davis Eyes,” we've been afraid that a 
lot of other celebrated anatomies 
would be hurt by getting short shrift. 
Assistant Editor Kevin Cook's fingers 
have penned the lyrics to а few songs 
that ought to give everybody's ego 
equal time. They're all sung to the 
tune of “Bette Davis Eyes.” 


RONALD REAGAN'S HAIR 


His face looks like a map 
With interstates to spi 
He'll close the missile gap. 

He's got Ronald Reagan's hair. 


Even hipper than the Gipper, 
He's our ship of state's new skipper. 
He's wansfixin’, and he's got to be 
Our hottest chief since Nixon. 


DOLLY PARTON'S CHEST 


Her hair is two feet high, 
She's not routinely blessed. 
We pray she'll heay h, 
She's got Dolly Parton's chest. 


She'll be famous, Rome to Dover, 
If she keeps from f 
Somewhat buxom, she's а tl 
Crush a dwarf unless he ducks ‘em. 
We're impressed. Keep us abreast, 
She's got Dolly Parton's chest. 


BILLY MARTIN'S FIST 


His team 
Some days they get him pissed. 
He's almost ten years old, 
He's got fist. 


Hell be 
Pick your shins to put his boots to. 

All the fellows simply love to buy him 
Beers, but not marshmallows. 

Umps he's missed are on his hit list, 
He's got Billy Martin's fist. 


BARBRA STREISAND'S NOSE 


Her fans most often kneel, 

She's got that quelque chose, 
She's soft as stainless steel, 

She's got Barbra Streisand’s nose. 


She'll outshine us, but Her Highness 
Might look better minus sinus. 

Her proboscis is a jumbo 

That you may have seen on Dumbo. 
When she blows, everyone knows, 


She's got Barbra Strcisand's nose. 


LOU FERRIGNO THIGHS 
His skin is gaudy green, 

It often jumps a size. 

He has Bill Bixby's bean, 
Also Lou Ferrigno thighs. 


Don't annoy him, little-boy him, 
Critics seldom overjoy him. 

He's in mean scenes, but gene 
Go mad abont his green gen 
His disguise can't minimize 
Emerald Lou Ferrigno thighs. 


JIMMY CAKTER'S SMILE 


He's back at home in Plains, 
Our cracker jack exile. 


ighting. 
пе me, but Арт 
Still a star to Bert and Zbig and Amy. 
All che while, through Three Mile Isle, 
Ah flashed Jimmy Carter's smile. 


ORSON WELLES's WE 


т 


He walks without a Kane, 
Too soon he's late and great. 
His star was on the wane 
Long before he gained 


weigh 


Once a corker, now a porker, 
Not a star like Mork the Orker, 
He does magic, and his tragic 
Ads for wine look hemorrhagic. 
Rosebuil’s gone, now he’s oblate; 
weight. 


Jaw 
Soylent Green, 

n in his craw. 

s always dean, 

He's gor Charlton Heston’s jaw. 


He can plague you, give you ague, 
Grit his teeth and Alex Haig you. 
He's Mo: 


I3 


nai, get the laws, ‘cause 
rlton Heston's jaw. 


You may hate ‘em, execrate "em, 
Spindle, fold and mutilate ‘em. 
You can cat 'em, but for anatomic 
Verse it's hard to beat 'em. 

Eyes and thighs long victimized 
Are prized when Bette Davisized. 


would have done any of them was for 
the money. But now I just bought a 
house and I started thinking if 1 had 
550,000, I could make a new room. If T 
1 more, I could put in a pool. All of a 
your life cscalates. 

Pravmov: Are there any 
wanted that you didn't get? 

care: Yeah. The part in The Postman 
Always Rings Twice; the casting people 
saw everyone in Hollywood and New 
York, and they wouldn't even see me. I 
went completely crazy. 

PLaypoy: What about jobs you did get 
that you wished you hadn't 

carr: Once, I was the Statue of Liberty 
on roller skates at Disneyland. And I 
lied about my age to be a chorus girl 
at the Coconut Grove. I was in Keely 
Smith's act and Donald O'Connor's act 
with a letter on my ass. I found it more 
ng than college. 

What were you like as a 


ts you really 


teenager? 

Garr: Weird and tough—you know, 
leather and big earr nd crosses and 
I drank bı ahead of 
my fricnds—the gi having 
tea parties and clubs and things like 
that. I was into all that stuff, but I was 
also with my other friends. We were into 
Miles Davis and marijuana. 
pLaynoy: Did you have a "reputation"? 
Gark: I wonder. Most kids who are 
tough in high school aren't tough at 
all. L was terrified. so T was acting tough. 
1 probably had a reputation. 

PrAYBov: You mentioned marijuana. 
acterize the usc of 
c in Hollywood? 

Any movie I've ever worked on, 
the minute you walk on the set, they tell 
you who's the person to buy it from. But 
Ive never had cocaine. І saw Cher the 
other day and she said they're going to 
make these two monuments of us, bc- 
cause these are two girls who lived 
through. Hollywood and they never had 


How would you cha 


coc 
GARR: 


cocaine. 


You have some nude scenes in 


Слвк: I have а lot of them in this movie. 
The minute I read the script and saw 
all these nude scenes in it, I thought as 
long as I look fine, its OK with me. 
This movie is about two people in a 
situation. I never felt that it was about 
showing tits and ass and fucking or any- 
thing lascivious at all. If it had been, 
well, I'm really uptight and I would have 
been self-consciou 
PLAYBOY: Would you like to get ma 
and settle down someday? 

GARR: Sure, Гус always wanted that. I 
always felt that if I got married and 
settled down, that would be it for my 
reer. So 1 always picked Mr. Poison, 
Now I would be av; ble to somebody 
who was nice, because I have a foot 
the door with my career and I can r 
a little bit. I've always wanted. security 
and a house and stuff like that. 


d 


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views: Early reports last spring from 

the annual American Booksellers’ As- 
sociation convention made the fall pick- 
ings sound slim. And now that the 
catalogs have arrived, we must tell you 
the reports were true. There are some 
fine books to look forward to, but not 
in the us numbers. Here's the hot 
fiction list al Book Award win- 
ner Robert Stone's new novel, A Flag 
for Sunrise (Knopf), about Yankees in a 
American country on the brink 
of revolution (you can get a taste of it 
elsewhere in this issue); John (Garp) 
Irving's The Hotel New Hampshire (Dutton); 
Confessions of a Homing Pigeon (Dial). the 
latest from best-selling writer Nicholas 
Meyer, who brought us The Seven-Per- 
Cent Solution and The West End Hor- 
ror, among others; and an interesting 
first novel called Who Killed Sal Mineo? 
(Wyndham), by Susan Braudy, which 
started out as a purely journalistic ellort 
but turned into a fictional account of the 
actors murder. Its being billed as an 
erotic detective novel, which sounds good 
to us. 

The fall nonfiction sit 
be a lot more exciting. starting with 
Privileged Communication: The Nixon Years 
(Simon & Schuster), by John D. Ehrlich- 
man. We expect that Ehrlichman finally 
comes clean—at least by his own stand- 
rds. We're also on the lookout for 
on David Halberstam's other abid- 
ing passion (aside from power). basket- 
ball. It's called The Breaks of the Game 
(Knop!) and it. too. will be excerpted 
-лүвоү (November). Two books of 
note are due from Farrar, Straus & 
Giroux: Tom Wolfe's Рот Bauhaus to 
Our House, which hits the past 50 years of 
architecture and is expected to cause 
controversy the same way his The 
Painted Word did; and John McPhec's 
description of the New Jersey Р 
Barrens, its geography and folklore, in 
The Pine Barrens (with photographs by 
Bill Curtsinger). No one else has Mc 
Phee's touch for moment and place. 

Last, but certainly not least, is John 
Updike's Rabbit Is Rich (Knopf). excerpted 
in last month's pLavnoy. Updike writes 
about middle America with a perfect 
eye. We're lucky to have him, 

. 
Richard Nixon's brother used to 
phones as a teenager. When Rich: 

study, w at Duke University, 
climbed through the transom of the 
dean's office to sneak a look at records. 
In the late Thirties, he borrowed $10.000 
from friends and tried to start a frozen- 
orangejuice company. lt failed, and 
there are people in Whittier, California, 
who still carry some of the costs of ths 
venture on their books. In trouble with 
slush-lund scandal, Nixon wept and 


ion looks to 


a 


bo 


More Nixon agonizing. 


Definitive Nixon bio; a first- 
rate book on man and machines; 
and a Jim Harrison novel. 


Soul of a New Machine: technology tamed. 


gained public sympathy at the same time, 
a performance of which Albert Upton, 
his old drama teacher, who taught him 


how to cry, commented, "Here goes my 
actor." In 1954, Nixon strongly support- 


ed the dropping of three small atom 


bombs to help the French at Dien Bien 
Phu. Tom Braden, a journalist 
had questioned Nixon persistently at 
press conferences in 1962, found him- 
self audited by the IRS during every 
year that Nixon was President. These 
and million other lascinatir 
tidbits populate Fawn M. Brodic’s Rich- 
ard Nixon: The Shaping of His Character (Nor- 
ton). Read this book and learn why a 
ишу wonderful guy made you grit your 
teeth in spite of his admonitions that 
you should respect your President. 
б 

If you like the writing of John Mc 
Phee, you'll love the work of Tracy 
Kidder. The analogy fits. Kidder has 
written The Soul of a New Machine (Atlan- 
tic-Little, Brown) with a reporter's eye, 
а novelist’s heart and а technician's un- 
ding. Kidder spent months ob- 
m of computer engineers 
who were creating a new machine (that 
became known as the Eclipse MV /8000). 
What makes Kidders book so rich is 
that he describes the human psyche as 
well as the computer industry. Rumor 
has it that the two are going to have 
10 get along, and. Kidder deserves credit 
for enlightening that mysterious alliance 
with brilliant, concise and orig 
writing 


who 


about a 


° 

‘The hero of Jim Harrison's 
novel, Warleck (Delacorte), 
solution to his mid-life cr 
comes a private detective-trouble shooter 
for a slightly eccentric doctor whose re 
rch includes ors that 
shimmy with the flexibility of a por 
poise as it moves through the water. The 
hero reads children’s hooks to keep his 
mind cruel and simple. He travels from 
northern Michigan to Florida, collect- 
ing waitresses and hangovers. He abuses 
his system with drugs. He fools around 
His wile fools around. The doctor fools 
fe fools around, 


sc 


ound. The doctor's wi 
too. In short, all you would want from 
and more. Harrison is on a 
ast book, a collection of three 
alled Legends of the Fall, was 
ап can write. 


ystery 
roll. His 
novellas 
strikingly good. This n 

The Nudeor Barons (Holt, Rinehart & 
Winston) is a painstaking end poten 
tially explosive work by London Ob- 
server reporter Peter Pringle and former 
Australian government. official James 
Spigelman on the development of 
clear energy from Los Alamos through 
Three Mile Island. 

After the bomb he had fathered i 
cincrated 100,000 people in Hiroshima in 
nine seconds, J. Robert Oppenheimer 
issued his famous mea culpa: "In some 
sort of crude sense, which no vulgarity, 


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31 


PLAYBOY 


32 


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no humor, no overstatement can quite 
extinguish, the physicists have known 
sin." This is the distinction between the 
physicists and the nuclear barons, those 
who bank-roll the reactors. 

The nuclear nightmares of radiation 
leakage, radioactive by-products with 
half lives measured in millennia, atomic 
terrorism and nuclear proliferation are 
all the results of choices that were never 
open to public debate. Pringle and 
Spigelman vividly show those choices 
being made in hubrisfilled rooms by 
technocrats to whom the bottom line 
is always uppermost. These men have 
no knowledge of хіп: there is an amo- 
rality about them that keeps them from 
knowing they have struck a Faustian 
bargain with the atom 

In the Sixties, as the gun sounded 
for an all-out international arms race, 
ner abo 


а reporter asked Oppenli 
the chances of halting the march of 
nucle feration. He said, "It's 20 


pro 
years too late. 

Now it’s 40 years too latc. 

е 

Ingenious journalists do not neces. 
sarily make ingenious novelists. Credit 
British foreign correspondent Colin 
Smith (he’s the London Observer's man 
in the Middle East) with having made a 
deft transition. In his first novel, The Cut- 
Out (Viking). Smith has managed to sus- 
tain the authenticity of reality while 
lending plot and drama to the mix. The 
elements and locales are familiar to 
Smith: professional terrorists, intern. 
tional intrigue, the inner sanctums of 
London, Beirut and Cyprus. The Cul- 
Out is a suspenseful, carefully written 
and memorable novel, 

. 

The best thing about Blue Smoke ond 
Mirrors (Viking), by veteran Washington 
Star reporters. Jack W. Germond and 
Jules Witcover, is that it's not 500 pages 
long. Jimmy Carter's Cinderella election 
in 1976 spawned an excess of verbiage 
in the making-ol-a-President genre, in- 
cluding a massive, well-titled tome by 
Witcover called Marathon. Ronald 
Reagan's defeat of Carter in 1980 was 
simple enough to wrap into 322 pages 
of occasionally dramatic political scenes 
that could have been justly titled Why 
Not the Worst? This is the book for 
collectors of political minutiae. We 
relive Ted Kennedy’s disastrous CBS-TV. 
interview. with Roger Mudd and get to 
sweat through the Iranian hostage crisis 
all over again. We also get the best ac- 
count to date of the Ford farce at the 
Republican. National Convention. In 
short, solid political history. 

. 

Doktor Bey (a.k.a. рїлүноү satirist 
Derek Pell) manages to offend just about 
everybody in his Book of the Dead (Avon). 
Four stars to the “Michelin Guide to the 


MOVIES 


S Lumer's brilliant, complex 
Prince of the City (Orion / WB) describes 
the decline and fall of a young New 
York City detective who pretty well 
ruins his life by deciding to go straight. 
Before he's finished, most of his best 
buddies on the force have either been 
indicted or killed themselves—and for- 
mer narcsquad hotshot Danny Ciello 
finds there's cold comfort in the truth. 
“I wanted absolution,” he says, like the 
good Italian boy he was raised to be. In 
this part, Treat Williams is anguished, 
sympathetic and smashingly right, more 
than measuring up to the promise he 
showed in the film version of Hair. 
Lindsay Grouse, as his skep wile, 
and Jerry Orbach, as one of the col- 
cagues his testimony condemns, merely 
set the pace for a large company of 
performers, all of whom are just about 
perfect 

Adapted by Lumet and Jay Presson 
Allen from Robert Daley's book about 
a real cop named Bob Leuci, Prince of 
the City is a crackling story in the 
warm-blooded, strect-smart tradition of 
Lumes own Serpico and Dog Day 
Afternoon. This meticulous epic has less 
going for it. however, as sheer enter- 
tainment. It's tough-minded and deals 
tough-mindedly with some very sticky 
issues about the morality of society in 
general, while offering no easy answers 
about the integrity of a turncoat cop 
who has to sacrifice quite a few chums 
in order to cl his conscience. If com- 
mercial savvy had been his first concern, 
Lumet might have made the movie 
shorter—at two hours and 47 minutes, 
it seems longish, though never sluggish. 
Lumet’s refusal to compromise may pay 
oll, lor Prince of the City is uncompro- 
ng and almost heroically honest. 
There's very little shoot-em-up action, 
though plenty of fascinating detail about 
how the machinery of justice tends to 


grind a man down and spit him out. 
Warts and all, Lumet's portrait of New 
Yorks finest is the most humane and 
soulsearching police saga I have seen 
in years. УУУ». 


. 
Subtitled "A True Story," Chariots of 
Fire (The Ladd Co./WB) is a beautiful, 
enthralling picture about some stout- 
hearted male athletes who г 
land at the 1924 Olympics 
says too little, however, 
real concerns are faith, aspir 
tion and the psychology of winning. 
Two American stars, Brad Davis and 
Dennis Christopher, appear in smallish 
key roles as U.S. competitors during 
the climactic track scenes, and Chris- 
topher's bit seems almost a calculated 
homage to Breaking Away. Writer Colin 
Welland and director Hugh Hudson, 


No Treat for City's Williams (left). 


Cops, athletes and chivalrous 
heroes make for high-spirited, 
action-packed entertainment. 


Chariots’ Ben Cross, Alice Krige. 


who herewith give a huge boost to the 
generally moribund British film indus- 
try, focus mainly upon Ben Cross as 
Harold Abrahams, Ian Charleson as Eric 
Liddell—two remarkably vital young 
actors portraying two memorable men 
who competed in '24. Both are shown to 
be fierce competit 


with complex mo- 
tives (the title, by the way, is from a 
William Blake poem not mentioned 
the movie). For Abrahams, a Cambridge 
man who's the proud, quick-tempered 
n immigrant financier, running 
eapon against. being Jewish." His 
ivity on the subject becomes un- 
derstandable in а vivid scene with a 
couple of stuffy old Cambridge таме 
(Sir Jolm Gielgud and director-actor 
Lindsay Anderson do them to a turn) 
who reprimand Abrahams for behaving 
more like a “tradesman” than a sport- 


ing good chap—insidious English ant 
m laid out like an open wound. 
ahams’ most formidable rival appears 
to be Liddell, the devout son of Scottish 
missionaries, who runs as an act of 
faith—and at one point nearly blows 
his chances because he refuses to com- 
pete on a Sunday, even when the Prince 
of Wales urges him to put king and 
country before God just once. 

While movies about athletes are tra- 
ditionally considered hard to sell, Char- 
1015 succeeds on so many levels I'll be 
палей if it’s not a whopping hit. Slow- 
motion photography co 
powerful musical score (mostly credited 
to Vangelis) gives impact to the running 
sequences, and the film is visually stun- 
ning throughout, bathed in a kind of 
apbook color that opens up the 
good old days as if they were here and 
Below the surface, there is great 
tenderness and subtlety expressed in re- 
lationships—between school chums or 
rivals, between Liddell and his pious 
sister, between Abrahams and a delect- 
able Gilbert and Sullivan singer (Alice 
Krige) he adores, or between Abrahams 
and his crusty Italian-born coach (lan 
Holm), who sweats out the Olympic com- 
petition at the window of his hotel room 
nearby, watching the stadium and listen- 
ing to see which flag flutters up the pole, 
which nation's anthem is struck to signal 
victory. That's the single most telling 
moment in a film full of old-fashioned, 
unexpected pleasures. YYYY 

. 

Among the major summer releases 
that were kept under wraps for so 
long that they're reviewed here more 
or less as. postscripts. Dragonslayer (Para 
mount) is a sumptuous fantasy with a 
beguiling air of innocence and magic 
about it. Ralph Richardson plays the 
old sorcerer, Peter MacNicol as 
his heroic apprentice and Caitlin Clarke 
as the damsel dresses 
like а boy in order to avoid becoming 
sacrificial virgin—the dragon devours 
virgins chosen by lot, at regular intei 
vals. One hell of an eerie dragon, too, 
and a super, bloody climax, though 
Dragonslayer's special effects are so ef 
fective I would think they'd scare the 
bejesus out of small fry. This mythic 
I tale looks like a trendy kid's movie 
primarily for those of us who became 
kids again after seeing Star Wars. ¥¥¥2 

е 

Another late arrival (though exten- 
sively previewed in our June pictorial) 
is For Your Eyes Only (UA), latest but 
by no means least in the James Bond 

Preposterous plots are part of 
ame, of course, and my only quib- 
ble on this occasion would be that 


bined with a 


with 


tressed who 


33 


PLAYBOY 


Roger Moore's leading ladies—since 
Barbara Bach in The Spy Who Loved 
Me—have been ice queens stubbornly 
averse to either thawing or 

Carole Bouquet, though coolly beau 
as they come, is one of the least excit- 
ng Bond babes to date. Figure-skati 
champion Lynn-Holly Johnson, as a 


sort of captive teenager in the vil- 
lain's clutches, doesn’t add much 
warmth. Otherwise, though, the exer- 


cises are sharp, swiftly paced and well 
up to standard. УУУ 
. 

Almost nothing about Honky Tonk 
Freeway (Universal/EMI) is what audi- 
ences have been conditioned to expect 
of director John Schlesinger. Forget his 
Midnight Cowboy and Yanks, all ye 
who enter here, for Schlesinger's fi 
American comedy is 
farce about a tiny Flor 
Tidaw that tries to trap some tourists 
alter being bypassed by a major inter 
state expressway. Among the attractions 
tried by the town's desperate mayor 
(William Devane) is a wild-game 
inhabited by a weary old lion 
elephant somewhat trained to perform 
on water skis. The fun is that broad, 
а kind of nutty Nasliville—mad, mad 
Americana based on a frecwhecling 
screenplay by Edward Clinton. with 
Beau Bridges, Geraldine Page, Beverly 
D'Angelo, Jessica Tandy, Hume Cronyn 
and Teri Ga rious vehicles, Paul 
Jabara on hand to perform several songs 
on the sound wack. D'Angelo and 
Bridges have some of the best bits, she 

a nympho who's carrying her mother's 
ashes to Miami and has slept with 300 
men Paducah, Kentucky, he as a 
1 Chicagoan who leaves for work 
morning but drives right on to Flor- 
е seems to be much too much 
B. yet it's hard not to notice 


ad an 


turned on by t 
а waitress who leaves her station to be- 
hustler. The film's flaky impro- 
kes it likable, though I 
wound up wondering why Schlesinger 
chose to do а comedy so aimless he 
finally has to end it with a resounding 
crash of cars, trucks and top talent gone 
to pieces. Ууз 


on as 


. 

Joining the U.S. Army їп Stripes 
(Columbia), Bill Murray requests that 
they give him undershorts more stylish 
than standard 
in a low-rise bikini? Mesh, if possible. 
the gag sounds familiar, that's only for 
rters. End to end, Stripes is a macho 
rehash of Goldie Hawn's Private Benja- 
min, with Murray and Harold Ramis 


ls who join up on impuls 
Murray loses his job, his girl, his car and 
his apartment. When they put him into 
ill-fitted uniform, Mu cracks, 


this stuff." There are compensating mo- 
ments of off-the-wall humor, but the rest 
is mostly your standard basic-training 
joke manual—slob humor that pays off, 
sort of, in a debacle featuring Murray 
and his inept comradesin-arms on а 
commando mi: 
pied Crechoslovakia. Overall, Stripes 
stale concept performed with some spon- 
taneity, though I still get an unea 
feeling that, so far, Saturday Night Live's 
alumni are slowly shrinking the horizons 
of film comedy to fit that s 
. 

Miss Piggy doing her 

thing in a lavish musi 


ion into Russian-occu- 


1 number—with 
g along as Fred 
pure delight that's reason 
enough to relish The Greot Muppet Caper 
(Universal). Later, Miss P. does an en- 
core with an underwater corps de ballet, 
spoofing one of those wikl-and-wet 
tasies Esther Williams used to glide 
through. `$ wonderful. Who could ask 
for anything more? Well, director-Mup- 
peteer Jim Henson and his stal st 
seem more comfortable on the small 
screen and may be stretching things a 
mite in this tally pull th Kermit 
the Frog and Fozzie Bear as а couple 
of crack investigative reporters. They're 
alter jewel thieves, and I seem to re- 
member something about "the fabulous 
baseball diamond." Cute. Too cute on 
occasion, even downright awkward now 
and then, with Grodin, Diana Rigg, 
Peter Ustinov, John Cleese and Robert 
Morley at hand for the human touch, 
plus Peter Falk in an uncredited 
cameo, If it's fun you're after, stay alert 
until the band starts playing—and pig 
out. УУУ 


. 
Movies based on hit songs usually 
nd up saying a lot less, at ater 
ngth, than the words and music of 
the original. The rule holds in The 
Night the Lights Went Out in Georgia (Avco 
Embassy). much of it a fairly lethargic 
down-home drama about a country sing 
er (Dennis Quaid) and his kid sister and 
manager (Kristy MeNichol), who wants 
them 10 make it bi 
Hamill plays the boyish si 
who looks cocked and ready for Kristy 
I coming of age All the perfor 
re fine, McNichol proving ag: 
that she's the most. precociously spunky 
teenaged actress in Hollywood, while 
Quaid gets a chance to establish him- 
self as a strong screen presence with 
viable secondary talents as a singer- 
composer. Aside from its appeal as a 
showcase, though, theres so much 
warmth and sincerity and sibling Joy. 
alty floating around in this movie ti 
a violent climax seems almost welcom 
The next-to-last scene best by far— 
à kind of Easy Rider riff of rednecked 
hate and horror that finally catches the 
essence of that title tune. ¥¥ 

WS BY BRUCE WILLIAMSON 


MOVIE SCORE CARD 


capsule close-ups of current films 
by bruce williamson 


Blake Edwards’ 5.0.В. Show and tell 
with Julie Andrews in a bitchy Holly- 
wood comedy. wry 

Chariots of Fire (Reviewed this 
month) Runners and racists in jolly 
gland circa 1924—one of Britain's 
st. wy 

Cheech & Chong's 
amp, but the lunatics 


Dreams Low 
will make 


you laugh. We 

Clash of the Titons Great gods, little 
fishes, plus Maggie Smith and 
Olivier. E 


Dragonslayer (Reviewed this month) 
aping lizards. vv 

Escape from New York John (Hal- 
loween) Carpenters latest prank— 
urban decay. yy'a 

Eye of the Needle Donald Sutherland 
with Kate Nelligan in harrowing spy 
story YY 

For Your Eyes Only (Reviewed this 
month) Bonded. wy 


The Four Seasons Through the years 
ng ordinary people 
la. co-starring 
vvv 


with some a 
direaed by 
Carol Burnett. 

The Great Muppet Caper (Rev 
this month) Miss Piggy’s follies 
a joy 

Honky Tonk Freeway (Reviewed t 


vvv 


month) John Schlesinger in middle 
ge уут 
La Cage aux Folles П Return of [es 
p wrists. уун 


The Night the Lights Went Out in Georgia 
(Reviewed this month) The song said 
it better. 

Outland Sean Connery's space-age 


answer to High Noon. yyy 
Polyester Thanks 10 a gimmick 


own as Odor ib Hunter— 


yy 
Prince of the City (Reviewed this 
month) Police corruption revisited. 
Just fine. YYY 
Raiders of the Lost Ark So far, nothing 
better all year than Spielberg's dandy 
spoof. wy 
Richards Things A grieved widow (Liv 
Ullmann) makes out with her late 
husband's mistress. Stylish. but un- 
vv 
(Reviewed well over two 
rs ago but release delayed) Glenda 
giving the 
ind of performance that won her 
two Oscars. УУУУ 
Stripes (Reviewed this month) Mur 
ray top-Billed. 
Supermon П Right on t 
second time around. 


YYYY Don’t miss 
YYY Good show 


YY Worth a look 
Y Forget it 


“Give the Olympus OM-10...and never 
worry about what to give again.” 


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35 


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EOD 


TELEVISION 


p Appraising the new fall col- 
lection of prime-time series on the 
three major networks, 1 can only con- 
dude that the Moral Majority, the Coali- 
tion for Better Television and other 
such pressure groups have made cnor- 
mous headway in reducing adult TV to 
high-minded claptrap. Each network has 
at least one sprawling, novelistic hour- 


long drama that’s like Flamingo Road 
dry-cleaned. NBC-TV's Father Murphy 
(Tuesdays) stars burly Merlin. Olsen, 


former football star and sportscaster, as 
а gold prospector in the wild West circa 
1870—taking a black man (Moses Gunn) 
as his partner and giving up his treasure 
hunt to found a school for orphans. 
Gloryosky, Daddy. Although unavailable 
lor previewing, CBS-TV's The Vintoge 
Yeers (Frid. е Wyman—Presi 
dent Reagan's first эйе Ле: we forge 
as the powerful matriarch who rans her 
familys California vineyards with an 
iron hand, preserving capitalism at any 
cost. Ron couldn't possibly object, could 
he? Over at ABC-TV, they've got King’s 
Crossing (Saturdays), which explores the 
lives of two sisters (Marilyn Jones and 
Linda Hamilton), aged 17 and 20. whose 
family returns to their mom's home town 
because Dad (Bradford Dillman) is a 
drunken, failed writer. The girls get in- 
volved, soon enough, with a stable hand, 
a symphony conductor and any number 
of family skeletons. 

The crop of new half hour comedies 
leaves a lot to be desired, and I'm cot 
vinced that nine out of ten sitcoms are 
shot in the same Middle-American liv- 
ing-and-dining room, NBC scems to have 
the strongest line-up, with Gobe and Guich 
on Thursdays (Gabe Kaplan of Kotter 
fame plays Yorker who 
moves his family 10 run a coum 
try-music roadhouse, aided by Guich 
Kooch of Carter Country). It's corny but 
could work. An hour later on NBC, Nell 
Carter in Gimme e Breok plays a black 


housekeeper who keeps a widowed police 
captain (Dolph Sweet) and his kids in 


line with zingy one-liners. Carter wowed 
"em on Broadway in Ain't Misbehavin 
and should win some new fans here, 
though the show's Aunt Jemima air is a 
drawback. NBC also has The Mickey Rooney 


Show (Fridays), in which Mick plays a 
feisty grandp: 


moves into his 
partment to bridge 


who 


wrong with Rooney that a top script 
doctor couldn't бх. МВСУ Love, Sidney 
(Wednesdays) was rumored to be a bold 
human comedy about ап aging homo- 
sexual. Well, in the pilot show ] saw, 
Sidney (Топу Randall) has а young 
man’s picture on his mantel. But mostly, 
he seems to be an asexual old softy who 
shares his home with an aspiring actress 


Lee Majors as The Fall Guy. 


The fall network line-up's 
a mixed bag; look to PBS for 
better viewing fare. 


Morse, Brown in A Town Like Alice. 


and her illegitimate child. 
CBS’ best shot in comedy is also a 
pretty long shot, Fd say: Barnard 
as Mr. Merlin (Wednesdays). а 
year-old sorcerer who runs a garage 
in San Francisco and has to find a teen- 
ged apprentice (Clark Brandon) who 
can learn to perform miracles as of yore. 
ABC has Moggie and Open All Night 
back to back on Fridays—the first. cre- 
ated by Erma Bombeck, starring Miriam. 
Flynn as one of those acerbic housewives 
whose jokes about her husband and 
kids sound like Joan Rivers out of Phyllis 
Diller; the second with George Dzundza 
as proprietor of an all-night deli where 
lots of craaaazy customers drop by. His 
wile complains endlessly, and with good 
isc—bored to death, no doubt. АВС 


has a better bet, but hardly a sure thing, 
n Best of the West (Thursdays). a comedy 
Western. about an 
marshal (Joel Hig; 


s) in Copper Creek, 
that wicked little ol' prairie town on a 
Paramount sound stage. ABC has put 
morc time and money into The Foll Guy 
(Wednesdays), a one-hour series starring 
Lee Majors as a veteran Hollywood 
stunt man who picks up а buck hunting 
bail jumpers for bounty betw 
It’s broad, with plenty of ac 


play themselves in the two-hour pilot) 


nd a handsome side-kick (Doug Barr) 
to catch the younger crowd. The Stunt 
Man revisited, this show appears to be 
running simultaneously in several tracks 
and needs a surer sense of direction. 

Crime and high adventure remai 


n TV 


staples, of course, and everyone scems 


to know the rules for playing cops and 
robbers. NBC has The Jomes Arness Show, 
well as The Rock Hudson Show and 
Chicago Story, none r ly lor prescrcen- 
ough all sound solid, standard 
nd crime-related. NBC's The Powers of 
Dovid Stor (Sundays) is something a liule 
different, with Peter Barton displaying 
wondrous kinetic powers as a seemingly 
average superboy whose motto might 
be: “I a icenaged Kryptonian." 
well ABC has several strong, 
though traditional contenders in Code 
Red (Lorne Greene heading a family 
drama about the lives of L.A. firemen) 
nd Today's F.B.J. (Mike Connors as a top 
G man whose agents arc truly good 
guys), both Sundays. In Strike Force 
(Fridays), Robert Stack is the crusty but 
benign top honcho handling a crew of 
skilled Gang Busters. If more of the 
me, desexed, is the mend, CBS’ pro- 
grammers aren't about to turn in their 
badges. They have Simon & Simon (Tues- 
days), with Jameson Parker and Gerald 
McRa as two brothers having a ball 
in their Diego detective agency: 
Shannon (Wednesdays), with Kevin Dob- 
son showing plenty of charisma in the 
tle role as а San Francisco detective 
who has problems with his motherless 


son, in-laws, women and life itself, This 

could be a winner. If they smarten it up. 

50 could Closeup: Jessica Novak (Thu 
CBS) starring comely Helen 
as a conscientious television re- 


porter who scems to be a cross between 
Brenda Starr and Jane Fonda. Wouldn't 
it be grand if TV came up with some- 
thing bolder and fresher than. top-heavy 
star vehicles or rehashes of high-grossing 
movies from past years? Stay tuned, but 
don't hold your breath. 
" 

PBS' Masterpiece Theatre (Sundays), 
that old reliable, gets off to a fine full- 
blooded start on. October fourth with a 


39 


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six-part series based om Nevil Shute's 
A Town Like Alice. Made in Australia, 
Alice stakes another claim for burgeon 
ing Aussie prestige in TV and cinema, 
and stars Bryan Brown and Helen 
Morse are a stunning twosome whose 
romantic chemistry could brighten up 
the tube well into autumn. The two 
meet in Malaya during the Japanese 
occupation of World War Two, when 
she belongs to a pathetic band of Br ШЕП 
women prisoners оп a forced march 
through hundreds of deadly miles of 
heat and horror. He's a plucky Aussie 
prisoner who risks his life to help her 
Richly sentimental, with raw edges, 
drenched in vibrant local color, Alice 
is unique—also a nice change of pace 
for Masterpiece Theatre all 
those bookish British epics th k 
ol still-upper-lip and teatime decorum, 
. 

The fourth season of The Shakespeare 
Plays on PBS will open October 12 with 
a three-and-ahalf-hour Othello directed 
by Jonathan Miller, starring Anthony 
Hopkins. With Bob Hoskins as an lagi 
who all but licks his chops over the evil 
deeds afoot, and Penelope Wilton as a 
heartbreakingly simple Desdemona, 
Othello on TV is engrossing throughout, 
though hardly definitive. This produc- 
tion holds an honorable place in this 
great classic series but seldom lifts it to 
new heights as Derek Jacobi’s Richard 
Папа Hamlet did. 

Й 
amut from Andy War- 


Running the 
hol to Zoltan Rendessy, owner of New 
York's ultrachic Zoli model agency, 
Model is an enticing, perceptive, often 
bitingly funny documentary by Fred- 
erick Wiseman, one of filmdom's most 
astute social critics. This twohour-plus 
presentation in black and white, to be 
aired over PBS outlets at eight P.M. 
Eastern time on Wednesday, September 
16 (double-check date and time with 
local listings), whirls through the Man- 
hattan world of modeling with such a 
wised-up attitude that Wiseman. says it 
all but appears to be saying nothing 
unkind. He's merely everywhere at once 
in an enchanted, glittering void of in- 
terviews, fashion shows, photography 
sessions. You watch a really super pro- 
fessional model (Apollonia) at work, 
and begin to know what it's all about, 
or watch perfectly formed hopefuls deal 
with the tragedy of being only 5'6" tall, 
which seems to mean practically unem- 
ployable in the aeries of high fashion. 
My own favorite bit features a lantern- 
jawed male model, posing in ruggedly 
handsome wool for a photographer who 
asks him to try a deep, introspective, 
thinking-man look, just the ticket to sell 
this particular sweater. "I don't think,” 
says the model with perfect, chilling 
conviction. But Wiseman thinks plenty, 
and 1 think its fair to call Model a 
must. —BRUCE WILLIAMSON 


JOHN . 
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44 


MUSIC 


ECORD HARVEST: Los axcELEs— It 

was springtime, and the Commodores, 

as bassist Ronald LaPread saw it, were 
here to plant this year’s crops 

em right," said the Alal na- 
tive, who would return there, after a few 
more weeks of working 26 hours a day 
in classic Hollywood fashion, to enjoy 
the silence and small-town case of Tuske 
gee. That's where the Commodores met 
11 years ago, as students at the pioneer 
black college founded by Booker 1 
Washington: irs still their spiritual 
home—and, for most of them, a physical 
home as well. 
"My crops are music," the long. le 
musician explained, his soft voice acqu 
ing a tone of ironic self-mockery, "and 

have to plant albums now so by Sep- 
tember they will start to grow, bloom 
and blossom—and I can feed my dogs 
for another yea 

In a frantic burst of the 
Commodores were simultaneously plant- 
ing three albums. Their own LP, In the 
Pocket, begun in Tuskegee and Atlanta. 
was nearing completion in daylong ses 
sions that stayed improbably good-hu- 
mored (you'd be cheerful, too, il two of 
your last four LPs had gone platinum) 
Meanwhile, LaPread was producing A 
Taste of Honey, the gi did 
Boogie Oogie Oogie—and lead singer 
Lionel Richie, Jr., was producing Kenny 
Rogers. 

Richic, who established himsel| 
of America’s top songwriters with such 
emotion-charged ballads as Three Times 
a Lady, Heroes and Still. had been 
paged for his writing and production 
skills by the grizzled country-and-west- 
ern star; their initial collaboration was 
Lady. a tune that put Rogers on the soul 
charts for the first time in his long and 
arccr. 

On a Saturday morning. hours after 
the end of his last recording session and 
shortly before the start of the ne 
Richie pooh-poohed the notion that 
there was anything special about the 
association of middle America's idol and 
the long-haired lead singer of the flashy 
&B group: "We're not concerned 
about Kennys reputation, or mine. 
We're just meeting at the studio every 
day, teaching each other different re- 
cording techniques and trying to come 
up with the best material possible.” 

Richie—the other Commodores call 
him by his surname—was asked to join 
Tuskegee freshman be 
cause he was carrying a saxophone he 
didn't know how to play (“They never 
asked if I could play it"), and joined 
because it seemed like a good way to 
meet girls. 

Now, having met and married the 
girls they were looking for, the same 


n 


activity, 


1 group 0 


опе 


the group as 


guys were still together, kibitzing and 
joking in the studio (all six of them 
write and each oversees production of 
his tunes, with plenty of help from the 
others and with producer James Car- 
michacl, whom they call Мг. Motown. 
functioning as arbitrator). They had 
gone to New York in 1969 and slept six 
n а bed at the Y, waking to find thcir 
guitars gone (welcome to Fun City). 
Helped out by Benjamin Ashburn, a 
Harlem businessman who remains their 
manager and heads their growing cor- 
poration, they proceeded to win over 
Small’s Paradise on amateur night. A 
booking on the S.S. France started years 
of globetrotting in which they picked 
up а unique grad school education (“I 
could be a taxi driver in Paris.” said 


LaPread) and worked their way upward 
until they could do anything they 
nted. 


Keyboardist Milan Williams, having 
finished his work on the new LP, was 
already en route to Tuskegee, where he'd 
be opening a lounge blocks from the 
pus n time for the school's 
centennial ion. Guitarist Thomas 
McC weighing offers to produce 
several groups and had co-written, with 
Richie, one of the songs that Rogers was 
doing. Horn player William A. King, 
who helped point the group in the right 
direction at Tuskegee with a 240-page 


per on the music business, was 
awaiting the outcome of an aw 
ination for the Schlitz radio commercials 
he 1 produced. Drummer Walter 
Orange, who sometimes wishes he were 
less of 


«і nom- 


star so it would bc casier to ро 
places and. jam with people, was think- 
ing about the different. music hell 
eventually put on an album of his own 
LaPrcad. a musician first and. foremost, 
who had never dealt with paperwork, 
was now responsible [or meeting a 
budget and had set up a desk, like a 
gular old businessman." in his Holly 
wood condo. Richie, who would also 
be heading for Tuskegee when his labors 
were done (he’s moved his parents there 
from Joliet, Illinois), was writing music 
for a Franco Zeffirelli film, Endless Love. 

in addition to producing Rogers 
“And to think.” said Richie, "that all 
this has happened to me, an economics 
major—actot minor—when the 
world is full of people who went to 
The Juilliard School or Berklee Col 
lege of Music and can really play. It 

must have been a blessing. 
CARL P. SNYDER 


REVIEWS 


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The one-bedroom unit is completely 
furnished — and for the first year, we'll 
fly two people there and back. 

You own it for the same two-week 
period every year. You can use it, sell 


it, rent it or—best of all — trade it. 
‘Through Interval lnternational’s ner 
work of some 300 worldwide resorts, 
you can swap it for another condo- 
minium each year—even fora different 
two-week period —move about the 
world and vacation in the U.S., 
Canada, the Caribbean, Mexico, 
Europe, Japan and Australia 

t's your Passport vacation —for 
life. Go for itor one of 155 other 
Passport prizes. 


Grand Prize 5 First Р! 
A lifetime share —two Honda Passport Motor- 
weeks annually —in a unit cycle. Il take you 
inacondominiumatany almost anywhere. 
Capran Resorts Inter- HONDA. 

national Florida location PP Passo с: 


youselect ‚ 
an 
s 
К atonal 


50 Second Prizes 100 Third Prizes 
Carrera Porsche Desin FootJoy Rackethall Shoes 
Sunglasses — prestige durable and wear 
eyewear for demandi resistant for men and. 


CARRERA ror Jey, women. 


Qs RT 


Official Rules 

L. (е саѕу wenter Here'sall you have to do. No pur- 

chascis necessary: Hand print your name, addressan 

code on the entry form, including the rame of the to 

те Passport Scotch is distilled. Enter as 
ш cach entry must he mailed in a First 

»nvelope, No Purchase Required 

soport Scorch label states the rame of 

the town in which Passport Scorch is distilled. If youare 

unable to locate a Passport borde send a stamped self- 


will be selected ina random drawing from 
all entres received by Stebel/Mohr Inc., an independent 
ation whose decisions are final. 


sidentsof the United States 
ire of LEGAL DRINKING AGE in the state m- 
ded in their address on theentry form as of the post- 
ark dateon the entry. Sweepstakes void wherever 
shibited by Federal. Stare and Local Laws and Regu- 
Lions Employees and the wert Disallers 
Co. their affiliated companies and agencies. liquor 
wholesalers and retailers are NOT ELIGIBLE. 

5. All prizes will be 
permitted, Prizes are not assignable. Odds of win- 
ning wall be determined by the number of entries 
received. Calvert Disnillers reserves the publicity nights 
ames and pictures of winners without c 
Winners will he notified by mail on or be 
wary 31, 1982, amd may be required to execute an 


milicsef 


warded, No substitutions for prizes 


toue 


wit ot elyshiliry 
c Grand Prize includes: A deed 
Drie winner a furnished one-bed 


naing the 
condominium 


Resorts International Ronda la 
-year membership in Int 


inium maintenance changes, Local 
nd Federal taxes be 
sole responsiblity of the 
7. For acomplete listof major prize 
winners. send a stamped, self 
envelope to: Passport 
rs List. PO. Box 82019. 
N 55182 


Tovernatinal. айнага 
ading use of his con- 


transportanon for two from within 
sor the first two-week vacation. Con- 


EE 
The Passport Scotch Sweepstake 
О. Box 82002, St. Paul, MN 55182 


Passport Scotch is distilled in Scotland. Where in Sootland? Just go to your liquor. 
store— look for the name of the town on the Passport label—wnite itin the space 


< 


Mail to Passport Scorch Sweepstakes 


below fillour the coupon —and rake a fling: vacation for life 

Name of town where Passport is distilled SCOTCH WHIshIES 
" : ASSPORT 
Address. 

Gry SCOTCH 
State. 5^ m RUNG BLENDED SCOTCH wii xy 
Age — — To be eligible, you must Г] of legal drinking age 


PLAYBOY 


48 


contains material composed during a 
solo stint following his ten-album carcer 
as coleader of the popular Siegel-Schwall 
Blues Band. This record combines Sie- 
gel's flair for humor with solid song- 
writing and displays the reliable strong 
musicianship one expects [rom someone 
who plays harmonica solos with sym- 
phonies from time to time. 
. 

Since the Fritz Reiner days of the 
Fifties, Chicago has been a Mahler town 
and, fortunately for everyone, its orches 
tra has been more than a match for this 
titan of romantic music. Mehler Symphony 
No. 2: Resurrection (London Digital), by 
the Chicago Symphony Orchestra and 
Chorus, Sir Georg Solti conducting, is 

nother fine performance by both chorus 
and orchestra, plus another example of 
Londons splendid digital technique. 
wity and balance are remarkable. For 
those unfamiliar with Mahler, this sym 
phony is good introduction to his high 
ly praised use of irony. At times, he even 
pokes fun at his own romanticism. 

. 

Manfred. Eicher's ECM label has be- 
come a jazz powerhouse by putting out 
musical statements that are strongly in- 
dividualistic yet fully mature. Tin Can 
Alley, by Jack DeJohnette’s Special Edi- 
tion. and Carla Bley's Social Studies (Watt 
ECM) are prime examples. With two sax 
men, one of them rising star Chico Fre 
DeJohnette’s quartet. comes on 
with a variety of textures. The 


man 
stron 


title tune has a rusty-nail quality: Pastel 
Rhapsody, on which the leg 


ndary drum- 
mer shows off his pianistic skills, is as 
delicate as a gauze curtain: Z Know 
sounds like rock "n' roll 

Bley is one of the best composers 
‘ound, and her new LP is a landmark 
piece of chamber jazz that works on nu 
merous levels. She's a known activist, 
but her Studies seem to have made her 
philosophical, judging from the marvel 
ously sedate Reactionary Tango. 


SHORT CUTS 


Joe Vitale / Plantation Harbor (Elektra 
Asylum): Joe Walsh's longtime drum- 
mer turns out to be a fine songwriter 
and multi-instrumentalist. This is hard- 
driving rock at its funkiest. 

Romsey Lewis / Three Piece Suite (Colum- 
bia): His funky keyboard lyricism is by 
now a fixture, but the choice of strong 
material and top-shelf arrangements 
make this an appealing album of very 
mainstream pop instrumentals. 

The Oak Ridge Boys / Fancy Free (MCA) 
The flamboyant Gospel-turned-country- 
turned-pop group returns to the ener- 
getic style ol arlier hits and even 
doses with a rarity these days: а rousi 
new Gospel number. 

тоз 
Farewell to Mingus (JAM): The superb big 
band salutes onc of the century's great 
geniuses with breath-taking results. 


FAST TRACKS 


SONGS IN THE KEY OF LAMB: Farmers in 13 Western states are reportedly using 
the Electronic Shepherd, which is a recording device that, when placed among 
a flock of sheep, plays Gospel music and scares away coyotes. This nifty 
little gizmo was developed by Bill Coyle, an instructor at the College of the 
Redwoods in Eureka. California. Why Gospel music, you ask? Coyotes are afraid 
of anything that reminds them of humans, and vocal hymns seem to upset 


the animals. If we'd thought of this idea first, we'd have used John Denver. 


FEELING AND ROCKING: We hi that 
R Bruce Springsteen is planning to star 
in a movie based on his album The 
River, Springsteen's manager i 1 
to be uying to package him as a 
modern Jomes Dean type. . А num. 
ber of rock groups, includi 
Wind & Fire, Blondie, Cheop Trick 
Reed, are working on materia 
new film about a rock musician set 
in the future. The movie is called 
Drals Gordon Lightfoot his signed 
to co-star in Harry Tracy—Desperado. 
with Bruce Dern. 

NEWSBREAKS: A New 
ion called Presley 1 
to get January eighth. Elvi 
day, declared a. national holiday. . 
OK, folks, are you ready for born 
again New Wave rock? Several na- 
tionally based record labels have 
started. distributing recordings featur 
ing Christian lyrics set to а New Wave 
beat. Both Star Song and Pilgrim 
America records are. promoting Eng- 
lish and Irish Christian. New Wave 
acts. . . . len Copeland, president of a 
New Wave booking agency. recently 
sent the first British New Wave bands 
to perform in—are you ready?—Car 
cas. XTC and Jools Holland played to 
8000 kids in two nights. Says Cope- 
land, “The Venezuelans are hipper 
than you think. Two of their exports 
put them in touch with modern socie- 
ty—oil and drugs." . . . Johnny Paycheck 
will appear on The Dukes oj Hazzard 
this fall. . . . Any minute now, Ban- 
tam Books will have its Beatles anthol- 
n the stores. Billed as th 
tles book ever, the two-volume 
collection will contain the music, 
lyrics and arrangements to ever 
they ever recorded, 211 song: 


ersey or 
is trying 
birth- 


Also, the anthology will have photos. 
interviews and a detailed history of 
the Fab Four—all for а steep 
539.05. Merle Hoggord is using 
Willie Nelson's studio in Texas. 
John Lennon's autograph is now worth 
575 to collectors. . We don't 
usually advertise products in this col- 
unin, but this is just too much fun to 
pass up: СК R Guitars, Box 52370. 
Tulsa, Oklahoma 74152, is selling 
wonderful rock-instrument jewelry. 
pius made up like a Stratocaster or a 
Les Paul, a sax or even a baby grand. 
For fve dollars, prepaid, its a 
deal! Jimmy Вийен is hitting the 
lecture circuit on behalf of Florida's 
Save the Manatees campaign. So 
what's a manatee, you ask? A sea 
going mammal currently in danger o 
ехипспоп. Phe atest threat to the 
fewer than 1000 surviving animals in 
Florida's coastal waters is said to be 
speeding pleasure boats 

RANDOM RUMORS: Richard Lester, the 
director of the 1961 Beatles movie 
A Hard Day's Nighi, says it’s ghoul- 
ish to rerelease the film this ye 
The producer, who owns the rights, is 
d to be putting а prolog of Lennon 
singing РІ Cry Instead on the ori 
mal. Lester says, “It’s greed . . . at 
its wor - Warner Bros. has ap- 
parently rejected a Rod Stewort-pro- 
duced live album financed by Rod 
himself. Despite this setback, Stewart 
the studio, getting a new record 
ready for later this year alva 
doran military officials have begun a 
crackdown on “subversive” music. 
cluding. we hear, а Traffic album. be 
cause the cover shot makes them look 
like anarchists. BARBARA NELLIS 


WHAT'S A GRENZQUELL? 


A virmally indestructible new 
fens ваз Wet Germany Ae 
sets of play, it has shown no appreciable 
je incre ылыы signs of wear Itsellsin Palm Springs for 
So accurate they have been used by $85 a throw. 
physicists in pursuit of heq 
Grenzquells run on tiny вас aR 
lasers. Cost: US$95,000. 


The ancestral home of the ill-fated 
Duchess of Grenzquell (1432-1489). Now renting 
for thesummer of 1987 at $5,875 a month. 


Aminiaturized 3-D instant camera 
developed in West Germany for espionage. 
‘The camerasells for $15, 
A cassette of film the size ofa watermelon 
seed sells for $90. 


A million-dollar limousine pe des miss 
from Austria famed for its bullet-proof he ua буе. л chen 
windows, wet bar, audiovisual 
controls and unparalleled mileage: 
87 EPA MPG city. 


re German beer! pee 
The new German airline that flies only between Hamburg and the Ales ten enn lace 


Canary Islands. Each passenger enjoys premier service from doorstep to tinues tobe brewed to this day, using 
luxurious doorstep. One-way fare: DM 18,595 100% barley malt. 


Grenzquell. On thelips of everyone who knows. 


‘Olympia Imports, Olympia, W. 


ETT 


Todays resort hotels seem to be 
built on the notion that everyone is 
on their honeymoon. 

For while they provide you with 
a fairly comfortable room, they 
offer few, if any, enticements to ever 
leave it 

This is hardly the case at Club 
Med. Indeed, for the price of what 
many hotels charge for a mere 
room, Club Med offers an entire va- 
cation village 

A village where, in the course 
of one day, you can water-ski, wind- 
surf, scuba dive, sail and play ten- 
nis. Take aerobic dance and French 
classes. And receive expert lessons 
in every activity* 

Where, in the course of one eve- 
ning, you can take in a French-style 
cabaret or a Broadway-style show. 
Watch the sun set to classical music 
and then move on to a pulsating 
midnight discotheque. 

Where, in the course of one 
meal, you can feast on an endless 
buffet of French cuisine, fresh-baked 
breads, tantalizing local specialties 
and bottomless pitchers of wine. 
And where you can enjoy all of this 
for one pre-paid price 

With no telephones to interrupt 
you. No newspapers, radios or tele- 
visions to distract you. No remind- 
ers of everyday life at all. 

You see, at the 90 Club Med vil- 
lages throughout the world, weve 
learned something about the 
so-called amenities of civilization. 
Youll be much more relaxed if you 
dont take them on vacation 


CLUB MED 


Theantidote for civilization“ 


agent. Or send us this coupon 
Name . 

Address — == 

City = 
State SS — — — 
Are you already a member of Club 
Med? CiYes No 


to village Copyright 1981 


b Med 


KANALY, STAR OF THE 
TELEVISION SERIES,“DALLAS.” 


STANDARD OF THE WEST 
SINCE 1879. 


JUSTIN BOOT COMPANY 

Ч TORT WORTH, TEXAS 76101 
Appaloosa Shearling Jacket 
Style M301 & 
Peanut Brittle Python 
Boot Style 9139. 


ух COMING ATTRACTIONS xX 


DOL Gossip: Robert Redford's next direc- 

torial project will be Sweet-sir, based 
on Helen Yglesias’ novel about a battered 
wife who kills her husband. . . . Bette 
Midler plays an aspiring lounge singer 
in United Artists’ Jinxed, a comedy 
about luck and intrigue revolving around 
the world of casino gambling. Rip Torn 
and Ken Wahl co-star. . . . Director Richard 
Brooks has kept such a veil of secrecy 
around his recently completed film 
Wrong Is Right that studio execs at 
Columbia don't even know what it's 
about. Only Brooks and his star, Sean 
Connery, have scen the whole script. 
Actors went onto the set cold and were 
given handwritten dialog on yellow tab- 
let paper—at the end of their scenes, 
they had to hand it right back. "Brooks 
got very upset whenever he saw a 
strange face om the set,” says one in- 
sider. "He'd just scream and have the 
person thrown off." The film, from what 


e 


Midler 


Redford 


I've been able to put together, concerns 
an internationally explosive situation 
involving the Middle East. Connery 
plays a newscaster; Leslie Nielsen is the 
President of the United States. 

. 

MORE ON PARTNERS: Last month, I re- 
ported that Ryan O'Neal and John Hurt 
would costar in Paramount's Partners, 
Francis Veber's [arce about a gay cop 
and a straight one. More has come to 
light since: Hurt. plays Kerwin, a closet 


case of a police officer whose usual duty * 


is the Police Records and Identifica- 
tions Department. O'Neal is Benson, a 
homicide detective. When several gay 
magazine cover boys are mysteriously 
murdered, Hurt and O'Neal set up house 
together as a cover to solve the crime. 
But when Ryan starts bringing a girl, 
namely, co-star Robyn (Breaking Away) 
Douglass, home, Hurt gets jealous. Seems 
he’s developed something of a crush on 
O'Neal. We hear the one nude love 
scene between Douglass and O'Neal 
required no fewer than 30 takes and 
the modest Robyn wore a pair of black 
panties to the set. Says she: "Ryan was 
on top of me and I had to get my 
underpants off, but I didn't want him 


to roll off of me, because I wanted to 
be covered up. Well, just try taking off 
your underpants with someone on top 


O'Neal 


Hurt 


of you!” For the record, Farrah Fawcett 
(Ryan's girl) and Robyn's boyfriend 
were watching in the wings. Laughing. 
е 

SO HAVE THEM sPAYED: Writer-director 
Poul Schrader seems obsessed with the 
darker side of sexuality—Taxi Driver, 
Hardcore and American Gigolo all testi. 
fy to that filmic preoccupation, Add to 
that roster Schrader's latest sextrava- 
ganza, Cat People. Starring Nastassja 
Kinski, Malcolm McDowell and John (Heart 
Beal) Heard, it's about a brother and 
sister (McDowell and Kinski) afflicted 
with an old family curse that causes 
them to turn into black panthers when- 
ever they become sexually aroused (now, 
there's опе for The Playboy Advisor). 
Although the film derives its title and 
premise from RKO's 1942 classic, the 
similarity ends there. Schrader claims 
that it’s a simple story “of myth and 
eros, an emotional roller coaster,” noth- 
ing more, nothing less. Plotwise, it goes 
something like this: McDowell is a 
ister; his sister, Nastassja, is a vi 
When Nastassja falls in love with Heard, 
she is compelled to reveal her secret to 
him. Heard doesn't care—he's obsessive- 
ly in love with her and prefers the 
company of animals, anyway. There will 
be one total transformation and a whole 
bunch of partial ones, all masterminded 
by effects specialist Tom (Invasion of the 
Body Snatchers) Burman. Moreover, Kin- 
ski and McDowell will transform before 
our cyes, thanks to a recently developed 
process. 


n- 


Kinski 


McDowell 


REMAKE DEPARTMENT: “The Thing has al- 
ways been one of my favorite films," 
says writer-producer-director John (Hal- 
loween) Carpenter, who is currently shoot- 
ing a remake of the 1951 horror classic 
about a vegetablelike creature discov- 
ered during a military expedi 
the North Pole. Movie buffs recall 
that James Arness played the titular life 
form, which bore a striking resemblance 
to a large carrot. Carpenter's version, 
however, will offer a modernized Thing, 
an extraterrestrial that can take on 
human characteristics, then change back 
to its real [orm. Budgeted at $10,000,000, 
the flick will feature an ensemble cast 
(not yet chosen at presstime) and will 
differ significantly from the original. To 
create the effects, Carpenter has hired 
Rob Bottin, the young wizard who created 
magic in The Howling. “The original," 
says Carpenter, "was one of the first 
films to give us a non-Buck Rogers view 
of space creatures. So they really didn't 
know what to do with the creature. I 
can't tell you what our Thing will look 
like, but it will change form before 
your very eyes on the screen." In the 
meantime, Carpenter is looking forward 
to the release of Halloween I, due to 
hit theaters—you guessed it—this Hal- 
loween. "It takes up where the first one 
left off,” he says, "and covers the rest 
of that nigh 


. 

OFF WE GO INTO THE WID BLUE YONDER 
DEPARTMENT: Take a small-town girl 
who works in а paper-bag factory and 


Gere 


Winger 


introduce her to a dashing young pilot 
trainee and what have you got? The 
plot of Paramount's 4n Officer and a 
Gentleman. Described as "an old-fash- 
ioned love story” (R rating notwith- 


standing), the movie co-stars Richard Gere 
and Debra Winger and concerns the ad- 
n 


ventures of an elite corps of aviati 
officer candidates and their relationshi 
with the local girls, who dream of marry- 
ing fliers and seeing the world. Frank 
love scenes abound, I'm told. To prepare 
for their roles, Gere submitted to a few 
weeks of basic training (mostly Marine 
drill and martial arts) and Winger actu- 
ally worked in a paper-bag factory. 
—JOHN BLUMENTHAL 


49 


Look who switched 
to Natural Light. 


Nick Buoniconti switched to some other light beers he had tried. 


Natural Light because he prefers We don't think he even noticed 
the taste. the ingredients listed right on the 
He had no idea that Natural label: Water, Barley malt, Rice, 
Light's great taste comes from using Hops, Yeast. 
Only the finest natural ingredients. But Nick Buoniconti would agree. 
Or that there are no artificial It's not the name that makes you 


ingredients in Natural Light, unlike | good—it's what's inside that counts. 


Natural Light. 
Taste is why youll switch. 


PLAYBOY'S TRAVEL GUIDE 


By STEPHEN BIRNBAUM 


Yr WAS AT NO SMALL sacrifice, including 
endless hours swaying sagging ham- 
mocks and forcing down countless rum 
drinks, that I uncovered this group of 
special, small hotels in the Caribbean. 
What I found at these hotels was the 
sort of personal attention that doesn't 
exist elsewhere, though planned acti 
ties—to say nothing of ice machines, 
casinos and coffee shops—are nearly un- 
known. There is, however. enthusiastic 
help in the fulfillment of personal de- 
sires—whether they involve chartering a 
yacht or just moving your chair under 
a shadier palm. And if your biorhythms 


"you'll find your own island idyl 
among these unique oases. 

The Anse Chastanet Beach Hotel, on 
St. Lucia (Soufriére, St. Lucia, West 
Indies; telephone, 809-455-7355), is actu- 
ally a duster of octagonal cottages 
perched on cool, green hillsides. Most of 
the 25 rooms have wrap-around views 
of the island's twin mountains—the 
jolly green Pitons—their Jush valley and 
the sun-speckled sea beyond. This is the 
pinnacle of privacy, ideal for reading, 
writing, loving, sleeping or just watching 
the bougainvillaea ruffle in the breeze. 

Biras Creck, on Virgin Gorda (P.O. 
Box 54, Virgin Gorda, British Virgin 
Islands; telephone, 809-495-5455), feels far 
away because it is, and the 150 acres of 
resort property takes in three sparkling 
blue ys. The 32 beachside suites are 
luxury in depth; and while it's а five- 
mile hike to town, day-sailing trips to 
other beaches are much more fun. 

On Saba, the Captain's Quarters 
(Windwardside, Saba, Netherlands An- 
tilles; telephone, 011-599-4-2201) is a 
very small, special place on a very small 
imple and friendly and soothing. 
This Victorian house was once a sea 
captain's home, and accommodations in- 
clude ten rooms in an annex. In the 
late afternoon, stroll up to Scout's Place 
for cold beer and warm conversation. 

The first view of Castelets, on St. 
Barts (Mount Lurin, St-Barthélemy via 
Guadeloupe, French West Indies; tele- 
phone, 011-596-87-6173, Guadeloupe), 
suggests that a small, very clegant pi 
of France has been transplanted to an 
island mountaintop. French Provincial 
antiques and handsome fabrics decorate 
the ten rooms—two cozy ones in the 
m: house, eight more in three hill- 
clinging chalets, and all with a balcony 
from which to view other islands. 

The island of Mustique in the Grena- 
dines is best known as Princess Mar- 
gares personal play place, though the 
peers at The Cotton House (Mustique, 


ISLAND IDYLS 


Next to incomparable beauty, 
the big attraction at these 
delightful Caribbean hideaways 
is personal service. 


St. Vincent, West Indies; telephone, 809- 
158-1623, via St. Vincent) are likely to 
appear most often in cutoffs and bare 
feet. Once part of a working plantation, 
this unique enclave has been superbly 
refurbished and decorated. 

The sea-viewing rooms of Curtain 
Bluf Hotel (Р.О. Box 288, Antigua, 
West Indies; telephone, 809-462-1603) 
ramble along the beach-lined edges of 
one of Antigua’s best breezecatching 
peninsulas. Fewer than 100 guests enjoy 
a multitude of water sports, plus the 
best tennis in the castern Caribbean. 
Nothing flashy here, just quality down 
to its tennis socks. 

On St. Kitts, the Golden Lemon 
(Dieppe Bay, St. Kitts, West Indies; tele- 
phone, 809-469-7260) is a graceful an- 
tique house rescued from ruin by a 
retired decorating editor. There are only 
ten rooms, but each has its own scheme 
and theme, decorated in a perfect blend 
of wit and charm. The atmosphere 
evokes a sophisticated house party, and 
the food alone is worth the trip. 

‘The setting for the Jamaica Inn (P.O. 
Box 1, Ocho Rios, Jamaica; telephone, 
809-974-2514) is lush and green with 
palm trees and flowers. The small, per- 


fect beach near Ocho Rios is reason 
enough to put up there, but it's the 
service that is so extra-special. 

The Mooshay Bay Publick House and 
the Old Gin House (St. Eustatius, Neth- 
erlands Antilles; telephone, 011-599-3- 
2319) are set on opposite sides of the 
road on the island of St. Eustatius. The 
Publick House (on the land side) is a 
restored 18th Century warehouse, while 
the Gin House has its few rooms can- 
tilevered over the sea. The atmosphere 
is casual and the taste flawless. 

The Nisbet Plantation, on the island 
of Nevis, West Indies (telephone, 809- 
469-5325), is subject to the nicest kind 
of haunting. The site once belonged to 
the Widow Nisbet, who eventually mar- 
ried Admiral Horatio Nelson, and all 
sorts of romantic stories linger. The 
house is a reconstruction on the original 
foundation, and a stay there is like step- 
ping back into another century. 

In spite of its name, the Oyster Pond 
Hotel is actually a small, beautifully 
secluded castlelike structure on the 
Dutch side of St. Maarten (P.O. Box 239, 
Philipsburg, St. Maarten, Netherlands 
Antilles; telephone, 011-599-5-2206). This 
is not a place for solitary contemplation, 
but it's great for selective togetherness. 

Peter Island Hotel and Yacht Har- 
bour, on Peter Island (Р.О. Box 211, 
Road Town, Tortola, British Virgin 
Islands; telephone, 809-494-2561), is sim- 
ple, sleek and supremely first class. The 
neat A-frame chalets were all prefabbed 
in Norway and everything is done with 
Scandinavian flair, The beach called 
Deadman's , just over the hill, is one 
of the island's best. 

You feel like the world is yours at 
Petit St. Vincent Resort in the Grena- 
dines (P.O. Box 12506, Cincinnati, Ohio 
45212; telephone, — 513-242-1333)—be- 
cause it really is. All of the 113-асге 
island is part of the hotel. Sun worship- 
ers set on a total tan should opt for 
hilltop accommodations. Room service 
is summoned by raising a flag beside 
your door. 

lf Gauguin had headed west instead 
of cast, he could have found barefoot 
happiness at Young Island Resort, lo- 
cated on a tiny island anchored 200 
yards olf St. Vincent (Ralph Locke, 315 
East 72nd Street, New York, New York 
10021; telephone, 212-698-8149). Indi 
dual Tahitian cottages, complete w 
bamboo decor, ceiling fans and outdoor 
showers, are set among tropical gardens, 
and there's lots of relaxing on the beach 
or beside the small lagoon pool. A new 
tennis court is available for the com- 
pulsively active, and a small band of 
islanders occasionally ferries over to 
make music for dancing. 


h 


51 


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THE PLAYBOY ADVISOR 


W am a 19-year-old male, presently living 
with my girlfriend, who is also 19. My 
problem is this: I get very jealous when 
I think of her past lovers. I tell myself 
that it’s stupid and uscless to feel like 
that, but it doesn’t help. Part of the 
problem is that she started having sex 
fairly early (at 14) and has had at least 
ten sexual partners since then. On the 
other hand, I lost my virginity at 18 
and had intercourse only three times 
(with the same girl) before I started 
going out with my present girlfriend. I 
was very shy and never had much luck 
with girls. It has always bothered me 
that I started having sex so late and 
have had such little experience. 1 guess 
I'm very insecure about how I am as a 
lover, though my girlfriend has never 
said anything to make me believe that 
I'm not satisfying her. I love her and 
don't want to hurt her, but I want to 
experience sex with other women. I 
don't know what to do. I guess I'm 
jealous because she has had so much 
more experience than I have—C. G., 
Pittsboro, North Carolina. 

Experience means different things to 
different people. A friend of ours re- 
cently had a woman tell him, “You must 
have had a lot of lovers to get this 
good.” His reply: “No, I merely loved 
one woman well.” All you can learn from 
a one-night stand is what you can learn 
from а one-night stand. Quality comes 
from collaboration. The age at which 
you lost your virginity doesn’t mean 
anything—though this ts a matter most 
American men are very concerned about 
(they tend to lie a lot about it). Before 
you go off on a quest to experience 
other women, learn what you can from 
the present relationship. If you have her 
undivided attention, you have every- 
thing. 


WI, car is perfect for me in every way 
except one: The high revs necessary to 
keep it moving completely wipe out my 
factory stereo. Since I can't change the 
engine, І thought Га opt for a better 
box. That is, if I could be sure that 
even then I'd get good sound. Is this 
a common problem? Whats the solu- 
tion?—R. V., Albany, New York. 

In a small car with little insulation, 
road, wind and engine noise could wipe 
out a live rock band if you could fit it 
inside. To [ind the solution, you have 
to decide how you want the music to 
sound. If you want more volume, a more 
powerful amplifier may be the answer, 
But if you just want to fine-tune the 
sound, you have a chance at a less ex- 
pensive solution. Speaker placement in 


a car, for instance, ts critical. Want more 
bas? Put the speakers on the rear deck, 
where they have a whole trunkful of air 
to play with. Want better highs? Door- 
mounted speakers are the answer. They 
are closer to your ears and the high 
frequencies won't get lost in the Corin- 
thian leather. For the best of both 
worlds, consider adding an equalizer to 
shape the music 10 your car’s acoustics. 
If you play tapes on your car cassette, 
you may find you'll get better sound by 
taping at home on ferrichrome tape for 
playback on your auto stereo. Its high 
bias can boost high frequencies by more 
than four decibels, which will overcome 
much of your treble absorption. No 
matter what you do, however, you're not 
going to get living-room sound in a 
small car. So you might have to ship the 
piccolo solos, drop in something “high- 
way compatible" (such as Willie Nelson's 
“On the Road Again") and enjoy the 
experience for what it is. 


М, fiancée and 1 have a bet that she 
can't give me 1000 blow jobs in one year. 
Could that be harmful to either of us? Is 
it harmful to swallow cum? We both love 
this method of lovemaking (and all of the 
others). One other question: She is able 
to climax six or seven times while gi 
me a blow job; is that unusual 
Wilmington, North Carolina. 
Could that be harmful? That depends. 
Are you planning to hold down a job 


this year? What if you get to New Year's 
Eve with 100 or so to go? Actually, there's 
nothing physically harmful to this chal- 
lenge. Your fiancée’s responsiveness is 
normal, if not an outright piece of luck. 
Masters and Johnson observed that wom- 
en are often brought to orgasm while 
performing oral sex. Is it better to give 
than to receive? For some, perhaps. Of 
course, we advise that if she loses, you 
should be a gentleman and offer her 
double or nothing. 


Every once in a while, my roommate 
and I get a jam going: She plays flute 
nd I pick a little on guitar. It's not 
concertquality stuff, but I'd 
record it just for us and our friends. I'm 
no recording engineer, but I have a 
pretty good tape machine. The question 
is, What kind of mike should 1 use? A 
trip to my local stereo store, with its 
wide range of mikes, did nothing but 
confuse me.—R. L., Topeka, Kansas. 

You have basically three choices in 
microphones: dynamic, condenser and 
electret condenser. Electret-condenser 
mikes run off their own internal bat- 
teries. They have a wide range and are 
very sensitive. They are also very deli- 
cate and have an annoying habit of 
running down in the middle of record- 
ing. An extra sel of batteries is а must. 
Condenser mikes have an external pow- 
er supply and are also very sensitive. 
Although they are used in recording 
studios, you may find them too sensitive 
to temperature and humidity for home 
use. The cost, too, may be a drawback, 
For casual recording around the house, 
therefore, the dynamic mike is probably 
your best bet. The range is fine for any- 
body but a recording engineer and it 
doesn’t mind being kicked around a bit, 
should your jam session turn into an 
old-fashioned jelly roll. 


В have an unusual problem. Whenever 
I start dating someone, I tend to go 
overboard. 1 don't know how to break 
off a relationship, even when there are 
clear signs that my date and 1 are in- 
compatible. If we have made love, I feel 
obligated to call her, to sce her again, 
to let her down gently, to wind up as 
friends—even if it takes months. Maybe 
I'm too nice. I don't know how to be 
casual, or callous. Is there an accepted 
way to calling it quits2—B. N., Roches- 
ter, Minnesota. 

The best advice is the oldest: Do unto 
others as you would have others do 
unto you. Actually, the eliquette seems 
to depend on the duration of the rela- 
tionship. If you enjoyed the first night, 


53 


: A Seite 5 0 M 


x 
ONE OUT OF EVERY I00NEW BUSINESSES SUCCEEDS. 
HERES TO THOSE WHO TAKE THE ODDS. 


home. That's why he selects: 
and serves the ime 
smooth Cutty Sark. 


E] 
d 


d 
21 
d 
aA 
| 
9 


you call the next morning. If you are 
convinced afler two dates that there is 
no future, you disappear. (Most of the 
people we know make up their minds 
after two or three meetings.) If you have 


been seeing cach other for a while, you 


owe your partner a word of explanation 
We don't know anyone who would will- 
ingly submit to а detailed critique of 
flaws, so keep it short. Pay your respects. 
Whatever attracted you in the first place 
is worth recounting. Thank her for a 
special evening—or cpisode. Then say 
that it isa question of priorities. It 
would be unfair to both of you to con- 
tinue the relationship. That you cannot 
slip into something comfortable, how- 
ever inviting, without creating an un- 
comfortable situation farther down the 
road. Just remember: Your ego was on 
the line in the approach. Once you start 
a liaison, the woman becomes sensitive 
to the question of acceptance or rejec- 
tion. Tread lightly. Someday you may 
walk into a room filled with former 
lovers. Better they're friends. 


VV was perfectly happy with my old cas- 
sette deck until I began hearing about 
new ones with three and sometimes four 
heads. I'm embarrassed to ask this ques- 
tion, but here goes. Are three heads 
better than two? Are four heads better 
than three?—L. A, Ogden, Utah. 

Around here we say any head is better 
than none at all, but this seems to be a 
stereo question. And in the world of 
stereo, the head question is a little more 
complicated. In a two-head system, you 
have an erase head and a combination 
record and playback head. A three-head 
system has separate record and playback 
heads (sometimes іп а single housing). A 
four-head system has an additional erase 
head for recording in the opposite direc- 
tion. There aren't a lot of those around, 
so you should just concern yourself with 
two versus three heads. The main ad- 
vantage of the extra head is in monitor- 
ing. You are able to hear the tape as it 
is being recorded, rather than having 
10 wait for playback. Another advantage 
is more technical. Optimum recording 
gaps should be from three to five 
microns wide, while optimum playback 
gaps should be set at one micron or less. 
When record and playback heads are 
combined, the gaps’ distance must be a 
compromise, so the resulting sound is 
also a compromise. If you're serious about 
recording, obviously, three heads are bet- 
ter. You'll have to pay more for the third 
one, but it’s worth it. 


Ham seeing a darling man who copulates 
in the same manner most of the time. He 
stays in the superior position, doesn’t 
stroke but lays most of his weight direct- 
ly on the pelvic arca and kind of squirms 
from side to side. Sometimes after a 
session with him, I feel actually bruised 


WIN A NEW DE LOREAN. ENTER 
THE CUTTY SARK CONTEST. 


Here's your opportunity to take the odds 
and win a De Lorean Sports Car or one 
of the 601 other prizes in the Cutty Sark* 
Contest. To find out how to enter, read the 
official rules at the right. Then enter as 
often as you wish. Here's to your success. 


One Grand Prize: 
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ENTER THE CUTTY SARK CONTEST. OFFICIAL RULES: 

To enter the “Cutty Sork Contes” you must onswer 
the following question: 

What word or words oppear behind the coded 
symbol? 

2.To find the onswer toke your contest certificate to o 
Cutty Sork contest display ot your porticipoting retoil 
liquor store. If you cannot locote a display or do not wish 
to, we will sond you o piece of the "Cutty Sark Contest” 
decoder with usage instructions. To obtain your decoder 
send o stomped self-addressed envelope to: 

Cutty Sork Contest Decoder, 

PO. Box 8856, Море Ploins, Mn. 55348 

Requests must be received prior to October 30, 1981. 

3. Place the official entry certificote behind the “Cutty 
‘Sark Contest" decoder ond write the word or words thot 
‘oppear in ће space provided on your certificate. Мой 
the completed certificote with your name, address ond. 
zip code to: 

Cutty Sark Contest, 

PO. Box 641, Howord Loke, Mn. 55393 

Entries must be pastmorked by November 30, 1981. 

4. Enter os offen os you wish, but each entry must be 
moiled in o separate envelope no larger thon 4Y4" x 912". 

5. Winners will be determined by o random drawing 
fram oll correctly answered, eligible entries The drawing 
will be conducted by the Mople Ploin Company, on inde- 
pendent judging ogency whose decisions ore final. Win- 
ners will be notified by moil The odds of winning will be 
determined by the number of entries received. Liobility 
for toxes is the sole responsibility of the winners. 

6. 602 prizes worth over $60,000 guoranteed to be 
cworded. 

7. Winners may be required to execute on offidovit of 
eligibility ond o release ollowing us lo use the names 
and/or photographs of winners for publicity purposes. 
Prizes ore not transferrable ard with the exception of the 
grord prize ond first prize, not redeemoble for cosh 

В. For o list of mojor winners send o stomped self- 
oddressed envelope to: 

Sork Winners List, 

РО. Box 7798, Maple Ploins, Mn. 55348 

9. Contest open to oll U.S. residents. Employees and 
the fomilies of the Buckinghom Corporation, its odvertis- 
ing ond sales promotion ogercies, ail rode buyers ond 
their fomilies ond the Море Ploin Compory personnel 
ore not eligible. Contest void where prohibited by stote 
low. 


10. Entrants must be of legol drinking oge in the stote 
of their residence os of September 1, 1981. 

11. Certilicotes mechonicolly reproduced are not 
occeptoble. 

12. No purchose necessary. 

86 Prodi Blended Scotch Whisky 

Distilled and Bottled in Scotlond. Imported by the 
Buclingham Corporation. New York, N.Y. 


To enter the Cutty Sark Contest, you must answer the following question. 
What word or words appear behind the coded symbol? 


Май the completed certificate with 
Cutty Sark Contest, PO. Box 641, Howard Lo 
Entries must be postmorked no loter than November 30, 1981. 


оте address ond zip code to; 
Loke, Mn. 55393. 


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I certify that | om of legol drinking oge under the laws of my stote. 


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THE GOLDEN KEY 


For the key person in your life, a gift of gold that unlocks your 
warmest feelings. A solid 14K gold key pendant with solid 14K 
gold chain. Actual size: 34" high. An investment and a possession 
to be cherished for ever. 

To order, send $98.95 in check or money order, or use Ameri- 
can Express, Visa or Master Charge including all numbers and 
signature, to: PLAYBOY PRODUCTS, P.O. Box 3386, 
Chicago, IL 60654. 


Full refund if returned undamaged within 30 days. 


in the mons pubis area. His former wife 
was sexually interested in him for the 
first five years of their marriage but 
gradually became unable to reach an 
orgasm. After several years of that, he 
decided she was “frigid.” I have been 
seeing him for two years. It is getting 
harder and harder for me to orgasm. He 
is 2 lovely person, and I hate to mention 
any displeasure with his style, but I am 
getting concerned.—Mrs. C. B., San 
Rafael, California. 

Perhaps you should keep a copy of 
“The Joy of Sex" at the bedside and en- 
force reading periods upon him. Serious- 
ly, we think you'd be doing him a favor 
by letting him know what you want. You 
should be able to think of ways to impart 
your desires without bruising his ego or 
your, er, mons. It might be helpful for 
you to take the initiative by assuming 
the woman-on-top position. In ihat way, 
youll break the pattern of your love- 
making and be better able to direct the 
flow of your movements. 


[| read your fashion articles with inter- 
est. There's only one drawback. How 
does a working person with a limited 
income, a wife, three children and house 
payments acquire the funds to pay 
$300-$500 for good-looking. good-fitting 
threads? In order to make it in the 
corporate world. you have to dress the 
part; but to dress the part, you have 
to earn an executive's salary. | try my 
best on а limited budget, but neat ap- 
pearance still does not equate with 
"corporate appearance." How does one 
compromise and still have a decent 
wardrobe for both work and leisure, 
without spending all the food and gas 
money?— D. D., Phoenix, Arizona. 

First, you should realize that the 
people you work for have a very good 
idea of your income and responsibilities. 
They do not expect you to show up with 
a killer outfit cvery day. (When you're 
down to your shirt sleeves, sweating out 
a project, no one notices fashion sense, 
anyway.) Your goal should be to develop 
style. Once or twice a month, show up 
in a superlative classic. Do it on the 
right day, in taste, and you will make 
more of an impression than the office 
clotheshorse. In short, take your time; 
wait for the sales; buy the classics rather 
than the trends. You don't have to build 
your wardrobe or your career overnight 


Concerning your response in the May 
issue to Mrs. F. L. of Seattle, Washing- 
ton, regarding anal intercourse: Your 
advice on technique is excellent; how- 
ever, there is one bit of expertise you've 
omitted. It pertains to the risk of in- 
fection. I believe it would have been 
helpful to advise the wearing of a con- 
dom to prevent fecal bacteria (E. coli) 
from entering the male urethra and 
wreaking havoc in the bladder and pros- 
tate. Also, a lubricated condom can be 


used to facilitate entry. Lovers can then 
easily move from anus to vagina without 
stopping to wash—just slip off the sheath 
before doing so. As an educator and a 
counselor, I appreciate the helpful in- 
formation your column provides to the 
PLAYBOY readership. Keep up the good 
work.—Miss L. F., Arlington, Texas. 
Thanks for the houschold hint. 


WI, girltricnd recently switched from 
the pill to a combination of a diaphragm 
and spermicidal foa 


. I have a few ques- 
tions. I enjoy performing oral sex. ls 
the foam dangerous? If spermicides kill 
sperm, are they poison? Do they pose a 
danger to me or my partner?—]. B. 
Boston, Massachusetts. 

This reminds us of the philosophical 
tion, At what point does meat ten- 
slop tenderizing? First the good 
news. According to an article in Medical 
Self-Care, spermicides do not kill sperm 
by poisoning them. Rather, “they alter 
the pH of the vagina, increasing its acid- 
ity to the point where sperm are immo- 
bilized. As a result, authorities say there 
is no reason lo fear harm from vaginally 
absorbed spermicides, or from their 
inadvertent ingestion, except for the 
possibility of an allergic reaction (itch- 
ing, irritation, rash)” In short, it is 
doubtful that you can ingest enough to 
do yourself in. (A simple suggestion: 
Engage in oral sex before applying the 
foam.) Now for the bad news. While 
spermicides are safe for the people who 
use them, there is some evidence that 
they are not safe for children conceived 
while the parents are using them. A 
study by the Boston Collaborative Drug 
Surveillance Program suggests that chil- 
dren of women who use spermicides— 
children who were conceived in spite of 
the birth-control method—have a slightly 
higher incidence of birth defects. (About 
22 percent of infants born to users de- 
wlop birth defects, compared with only 
one percent in the offspring of women 
who do not use spermicides.) There is 
also a higher incidence of miscarriage. 
Scientists believe that the spermicide 
can damage both sperm and the ¢ 
resulting in a less-than-healthy fetus. 
However, the results of the study are in- 
conclusive. Our advice: Don't have chil- 
dren by accident. Plan your parenthood. 
Do it when you want to—not because 
you have to. 


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


we 


You never forget 
your firstGirl. 


ә Less. pes 


“е: 


"Isn't that an expensive engagement ring 
fora guy on your salary ?” 


When | started shopping ЁТ 
for a diamond engagement ~~ 
ring, $1200 sounded like 
a fortune to me, too. See, 
I figured Id spend just what | 
Dad did on Moms ring. You 
know, six or seven hundred 
bucks— tops. 

At first glance, one 
diamond did look pretty. 
much like the next. But when 
the jeweler let me examine 
a couple of different 
diamonds up close, even I 
could see why certain ones 
are worth so much more 1 
than others. Then the jeweler 
gave me a great tip on 
figuring out my price range. 
He said I should set aside 
at least one to two months’ 
salary for the ring. NT су 

By this time, I understood enough to want to go for the best. 
coor sco zoor sacar After all 1 know how much my mom loves her 

"T WE wee diamond, even today And the way I figure it, 
eet Ifa person can spend big bucks on stereos 
sæ йл бш мо and Cameras without batting an eye, 
why should | scrimp on the one thing my fiancée will wear every 


actual size 


single day? 
Prices shown are based on retail quotations and may vary Send for the booklet 
"Everything You'd Lave to Know. About Diamands:” Just mail 51.0010 Diamond Information Center, 
3799 Jasper St, Philadelphia, PA 19124. cs 
This message is presented by the Diamond Information Wer E F 
( JEWELERS Center in cooperation with Jewelers of America, Inc. Look de 
or americaine. for their logo for more information. re? 


A diamond is forever. 


DEAR PLAYMATES 


ММ... do women wane is the famous 
question posed by Sigmund Freud. 
A morc pertinent question may well 
be, What do women think? About men, 
relationships, dating, loving. sex. It 
scemed to us that рглувоуѕ Playmate: 
the women we know best, might have 
revealing answers to questions that come 
up regularly in their lives and in those 
of our readers, Each month, we're going 
to pose one such question to a group of 
Playmates and give them some room to 
tell us 
‘This month's question is: 


What docs a man have to do on a first 


date to get a second date? 


Wa prefer someone brilliant and proba- 
bly a litte bit detached. I don't want a 
man to tell me everything on the first 
date, starting with when he was born 
and ending with his retirement plans. 
There's got to 
be a little my 
tery preserved, 
or 1 begin to 
think, Why 
bother to get 
together again? 
I've got thc 
whole story. I 
usually try to 
hold a little bit 
back, too. My 
story isn't all 
that long, but 
ГИ drag it out over as many dinners as 


1 possibly can. 
MANEK 


VICKI MCCARTY 
SEPTEMBER 1979 


To get a second date, he would have to 
be funny and fun to be around. A 
good communi- 
cator and inter- 
ested in sports 
I don't like a 
man who wants 
to hold your 
hand or kiss 
you right away. 
It totally turns 
me off to start 
out with a new 
man in a gor- 


geous restau- 
rant being 
showered with presents. I'd rather go to 


the beach or have a picnic. Or, if it’s an 
evening date, take a walk or sit by the 
fireplace and talk as friends first. I'm 


not materialistic, so I don't need to be 


impressed. 
Pour fiie 


KAREN PRICE 
JANUARY 1981 


Find out if you can hold hands. Some 
men can't hold hands anymore. Conver- 
sation is important but not about past 
relationships. If you're divorced, try not 
to talk about 
the ex. Why 
drag that into 
a first date? It's 
not that you 
c keeping se- 
crets, it's just 
that the rela- 
tionship is too 
new to get into 
that. Go slow; 
I don't need 
the pressure. 
Coming on too 
heavy is the easiest way to blow the 
second date. If that little spark is there, 
if the vibes are right, it will be there 
for the next time. You don't have to 


push it. шц n et 


MARCY HANSON 
OCTOBER 1978 


Hes got to take things slow. І don't 
want someone who's going to be all over 
me on the first date. If a man really 
wants you, he can wait. I like little 
things, such as 
being thought- 
ful by bringing 
me some flow- 
ers. I don't 
need a big din- 
ner; I could go 
down to the 
beach for an 
evening. But I 
usually try to 


make a first 
date a lunch 
so if it 


doesn't go well, I can say I have some- 
thing else to do that evening and then 


there's no pressure. 
pA mr» 


LISA WELCH 
SEPTEMBER 1080 


ІН. has to be romantic and charming, 
not aggressive and pushy. A lot of men 
feel they have to take you to the most 
expensive place and buy you cham- 


pagne, but they don't have to do that. 
They have to be themselves. Once, I 
went on the road for PLAYBOY and I met 
a guy who pro- 


duced a heli- 
copter to fly 
me round 
and it was 
really bizarre, 

because heli- 


сорт» give me 
the creeps. For 
the $900 the 
helicopter cost 
him, he would 
have been bet- 
ter off saving 
the money and talking to me. I've never 
felt that a big gesture obligates me, al- 
though I think a lot of girls feel that if 
a man goes to all that trouble, they have 
to go home with him. I expect a lot of 
little attention, like phone calls. Or tak- 
ing my call if he's in a meeting 


3 ama Tomasino 


JEANA TOMASINO 
NOVEMBER 1980 


ДА man has to be а very open, honest, 
Consistent person who will treat me like 
a lady and who will take the timc to 
get to know me. He will not act like 
he's madly in 
love because of 
my looks Hc 
doesn’t need to 
do anything 
fancy, though 
it's nice to be 
spoiled. — I'm 
not going to 
knock it. But it 
isn't necessary 
to get my atten- 
tion that way. I 
think small ges- 
tures come across much better than large 
ones. I would prefer that a man get to 
know me as a person, as Lorraine, in- 
stcad of his fantasy of who he thinks 
I might be. 


Reuoime Meow 


LORRAINE MICHAELS 
APRIL 1981 


If you have a question, send it to 
Dear Playmates, Playboy Building, 919 
North Michigan Avenue, Chicago, Ili 
nois 60611. We won't be able to answer 
состу question, but we'll do our best. 


59 


There comes a timewhen 
we all want to sit back айй, 
get comfortable. And thete’s 
no better way than with the 
fine, easy taste of Southern | 
Comfort. \ 

Inspired in the 1800’ 
old New Orleans, this Wẹrld 
famous liquor is delicious 
_ straight, on the rocks, or 
mixed any way you like it. 
It's one of the real comforts 
of life. 


Send gifts of Southern Comfort anywhere by phone. Call toll-free 800-528-6148 charge to major credit cards. 
Offer void in states where prohibited. Southern Comfort Corp. 80-100 Proof Liqueur, St. Louis, Mo. © 1980 


THE PLAYBOY FORUM 


a continuing dialog on contemporary issues between playboy and its readers 


THE HOLY WORD 

A San Francisco TV Station recently 
aired a series on Moral Majorityism in 
which one Christian reverend seemed 
to agree with the Biblical injunction 
of stoning homosexuals to death and 
another M.M.er affirmed that homosex- 
wality was, indeed, a capital crime de- 
serving of capital punishment. That 
caused a nice flap and the second fellow 
retracted his statement; older and wiser 
M.M.ers had advised him he was the- 
ologically incorrect, he said. 

Frankly, I find that recantation even 
more sinister than the original incite- 
ment to violence. After all, the M.M. 
crowd continually informs us that it 
nts to restore "Biblical morality,” 
and there is no doubt that stoning homo- 
sexuals, like burning witches, is man- 
dated in the Bible. Both policies are 
unambiguously endorsed in Leviticus, for 
instance; and, before the rise of secular 
humanism, Christians did execute enor- 
mous numbers of gays and witches (or 
alleged gays and alleged witches). 

It scems to me that the leaders of 
M.M. forced this reversal not because 
it was theologically incorrect but because 
it was politically inexpedient. After all, 
if a mob of their moron Iollowers de- 
scended on one Castro neighborhood 
with rocks, the gays would throw various 
things back at them; there would be 
casualtics on both sides; the National 
Guard would have to be called out; 
there might be pillaging and raping 
Sex in the streets, even, and some 
M.M.ers might be turned into pillars 
of salt! 

It appears that the 1 
are not either courageous or fanatical 
enough to follow the Bible literally, as 
their ancestors did. That can only mean 
that they are politically sneaky enough 
to be dangerous. 


aders of M.M. 


M. Chaney 
Palo Alto, California 


THE HELL YOU SAY 

All you foulmouthed fuckers out there 
are in big trouble now. I've just read a 
ҮР], story out of Cambridge, Massa- 
chuseus, reporting that a group called 
Curseaholics Anonymous has kicked off a 
nat campaign to make public 
profanity a felony offense. Not just а 
misdemeanor, mind you, or an ordi- 
but a goddamn felony! 


nance violation 
The head of the group defined cursing as 
"vulgar language which is used as an al- 
ternative language in our society to show 


masculinity, zachoism or to insult some- 
one or his property and artifacts." His 
property? His artifacts? Is that like 
saying "Thats the shirtiest goddamn 
potsherd I've ever seen and you're a 
piss-poor archacologist. Fuck you and 
the jeep you rode in on!"? 

Seriously, what this country needs is 
fewer laws, not more of them, and not 


“Stoning homosexuals, like 
burning witches, is 
mandated in the Bible.” 


screwy eflorts to correct other people's 
bad habits by means of legislation 
Dave Shapiro 
New York, New York 
We agree; but with so many danger- 
ous nut groups on the loose, it’s nice 
occasionally to find a harmless one. The 
fact that these folks come from Cam- 
bridge raises our suspicions of a Harvard 
prank 


SEX-LAW DEBATE 

Your account of the arrest, conv 
and eventual salvation of "The Wauwa 
tosa Lovers" (Playboy Casebook, Febru- 
ary) is both amusing and instructive. 
You may be interested to know that our 
Wisconsin legislature is once again de- 
bating the weighty issue of whether or 
not fornication, cohabitation, oral sex, 


etc, should at last be legalized for con- 
senting adults in private. At this writing, 
the matter has passed the senate and is 
being argued in an assembly committee. 
I would like to share with your readers 
some of the lively give-and-take among 
our enlightened (and otherwise) lead- 
ers, as reported in the local press. 
Keep in mind that present state law pro- 
hibits just about everything except mari- 
tal sex in the missionary position. 

Representative Clarenbach of Madi- 
Hundreds of thousands of law- 
ling Wisconsin citizens would be put 
in jail if these laws were fully enforced." 

Representative Duren of Cazenovia: 

t condones Ѓогпіса! i 
sexual perversion im private. I b 
the bill is just another foot in the door 
to lower moral standards.” 

The Reverend Hallet of the Eau 
Claire Moral Majority: “The word of 
God declares and tcaches us that homo- 
sexuality is a sin. If God condemns it, 
we arc not to court it.” 

Representative Becker of M aukee 
(a former Catholic priest supporting the 
bill): “The oversight and dominion of 
this behavior lies within the religious 
community,” not the legal community. 

The Reverend Scott, Unitarian n 
ister from Wausau: “Frankly, I get very 
d of people trying to Tay their moral 
ndards on others. 

Representative again: 
"Society has not come apart at the scams 
in lowa, Nebraska, North Dakota or any 
of the 25 єз that have passed con- 
senting-adult laws." 

Representative Бог of Kenosha: “I'm 
not going to vote for the budget if this 
isin i 

The last remark refers to the fact that 
our courageous lawmakers, rather than 
go on record as supporters of immo 
ity and perversion, have attached the 
sexdaw revision to a state-budget-review 
bill in the form of an amendment. 

As a closet fornicator, I eagerly a 
the outcome of Wisconsin's Great 5 
Debate. 


Clarenbach 


(Name withheld by request) 
Milwaukee, Wiscon 

Well, the Wisconsin reform law was 
again defeated—by an assembly vote of 
50 to 49—and il remains a crime to 
cohabit or fornicate in that part of the 
country, Some students at Lawrence Uni- 
versity in Appleton organized a protest 
demonstration in which fornicators and 
cohabiters marched to the local police 
station to “confess and turn themselves 


61 


PLAYBOY 


62 


in.” According to the police, Appleton 
has very few fornicators and cohabit- 
ers, judging from the number who 
surrendered, and they didn't present 
enough evidence io justify arrest. The 
officers we talked with sounded disin- 
clined to bust any fornicalors even. in 
the line of duty but scemed a bit dis- 
appointed at the lack of evidence. 


CHANGING TIMES 

It remains to be seen just how much 
damage has been done to tennis star 
Billie Jean King by the “gay palimony" 
suit brought by the woman with whom 
she once supposedly had a homosexual 
affair. So far, I have to give the Amer 
can public a certain amount of credit— 
people scem to be taking the matt 
. even shrugging it off, perhaps 
оге sophisticated understanding of 
the times that homosexuals are not a 
rare and exotic breed of sexual pervert 
dangerous to society and small children 
on their way to school. And perhaps 
also in the understanding that a homo- 
sexual experience nearly qualifies as 
statistically normal! And that even a 
homosexual "affair" does not brand one 
a card-carrying, full-blown, 100 percent, 
jetime queer. 
1 remember only 20 years ago when an 
extremely talented and popular univer- 
sity professor was literally hounded out 
of town hecause the police in a Texas 
city learned of a “homosexual party 
and took license-plate numbers that, 
with no other evidence, were turned 
over to school authorities and employers. 
That crime went unpunished. 

Perhaps at last the country is reach- 
ing social and sexual maturity. 

(Name withheld by request) 
n is, Texas 

The people, maybe yes; their leaders, 
evidently no; but it's good to hear from 
an optimist once in awhile. Read on. 


TWO FROM TEXAS 

Once again, Texas has used its habit- 
wabcriminal Jaw to translate a minor 
offense into a life sentence. Recently, 
ed to plead guilty 
nd accept а 30-y 


trial and was found guilty of stealing 
two bottles of liquor Irom a house. Be- 
cause he had two previous convictions, 
he received a mandatory lile sentence. 
Those two bottles of booze are now 

going to cost taxpayers many thousands 
of dollars and probably turn a non. 
violent criminal into a walking dead 
man or a violent menace to society if 
he ever does get out. 

(Name withheld by request) 

San Antonio, Texas 


A footnote on Texas politics that you 
may find in : Effective Septem- 
ber 1, 1981, the Texas legislature banned 


FORUM NEWSFRONT 


what's happening in the sexual and social arenas 


PRISONERS OF LOVE 

NASHVILLE—An otherwise well-exe- 
cuted jailbreak went awry when cight 
inmates of Nashville's Metro Jail made 
their way as far as the women’s cell 
block and there found too warm a 
welcome, Authorities said the male 
prisoners kidnaped one guard and over- 
powered another, made their way to 
the women’s facility and stayed so long 
engaging in sex that other guards with 
shotguns were able to find and recap- 
ture them. A local magistrate comment- 
ed, “I think it’s а fair characterization 
" He added 


to say that it was an orgy 


that the escapees were being charged 
with numerous offenses but not with 
rape, because none of the female in- 
mates would sign complaints. 


SNIFF SEARCH UPHELD 

WASHINGTON, pc The systematic 
search of 2780 Indiana public school 
students conducted in 1979 without a 
warrant ond with the aid of 14 drug- 
sniffing dogs has been indirectly up- 
held by the U.S. Supreme Court in its 
decision nol to hear the case. Without 
explanation, the Justices declined lo 
review a Federal appeals court ruling 
that had approved the massscarch 
technique while rejecting the strip 
search of a 13-year-old girl, which il 
called so "outrageous" that il “ex- 
ceeded the bounds of reason by two 
and a half country miles.” No drugs 


were found on the girl and the entire 
search turned up only I7 students with 
drugs or drugrelaicd items, plus three 
cans of beer. 


"DR. DEATH" 

WASHINGTON, D.C—The U. S. Supreme 
Court has sharply restricted the use of 
psychiatric testimony in determining 
whether or not a criminal defendant is 
а menace 10 society and must be sen- 
Тепсей to death. In its decision, the 
Court held that “a criminal defendant, 
who neither initiates a psychiatric eval 
uation nor attempts to introduce any 
psychiatric evidence, may not be com- 
pelled to respond to a psychiatrist if 
his statements can be used against him 
at e capital sentencing procecdin 
The issue arose in а Texas murder case 
after a court-appointed psychiatrist in- 
lerviewed a defendant for 90 minutes 
in order to determine his competency 
fo stand trial and later was called as а 
witness against him during the sen- 
tencing phase of the trial. The same 
psychiatrist had been called Dr. Death 
im a Texas Monthly magazine article, 
because state prosecutors regularly used 
him to testify that convicted murderers 
were likely to repeat their crimes. 


YOUR MONEY OR YOUR WIFE 

ANNAPOLIS—Another archaic “crimi- 
nal conversation” law has been struck 
down, this one by @ Maryland appellate 
cour! that found it in violation of 
equal rights, The court rturned a 
560.000 judgment that a Cherry Chase 
man's girlfriend had been. ordered to 
pay his estranged wife snder an 18th 
Century civil law that permitted a 
husband to sue a man for having sex- 
ual relations with his spouse but did 
not afford wives the same privilege. 
The reversal was granted primarily on 
that ground, raising the further issue of 
sex discrimination on which the law 
itself was found unconstitutional. Simi- 
lar laws have been overturned in other 
states, most recently in Towa, where the 
supreme court found the concept of 
alienation of affection “rooted in ideas 
we have long since renounced, involv- 
ing wives as property” (“Forum News- 
front,” September). 


ABORTION POLL 
A Washington Post-ABC News poll 
finds abortion rights still widely sup- 
ported by most Americans, According 
to the survey, 10 percent of the popu- 
lation approve of abortion “оп de- 
mand" and an additional 34 percent 
approve of it as the woman's choice in 
most circumstances. Only ten percent 

would prohibit it altogether. 


SURROGATE FATHERHOOD 

PASADENA—A California woman has 
won custody of the child she had con- 
tracted to bear for an infertile New 
York couple. The husband, whose wife 
is a transsexual and who had donated 
the sperm for the surrogate mother's 
artificial insemination, dropped his pa- 
ternity-custody suit, saying that the 
publicity generated by the case would 
harm the child, but his name will re- 
main listed on the birth certificate as 
the child's father. The action left un- 
clarified а section of California law 
that states, “The donor of semen pro- 
vided to a licensed physician for use 
in the artificial insemination of a wom- 
an other than the donors wife is 
treated in law as if he were not the 
natural father of a child thereby con- 
ceived.” 


BAD FAD 

ЗАМ TRANCICO—Eight boys have 
been expelled from an East Bay junior 
high school for trying to forcibly pull 
the panis off female classmates. A 
school official said the expulsions in- 
volved three separate incidents, that 
“pantsing’ had distinct possibilities of 
soon becoming an undesirable fad and 
that “we may have nipped this in 


the bud... . This sort of macho rite 


requires swift and decisive handling.” 
An administrator in a neighboring 
school district said no pantsing had yet 
occurred, but “that sort of thing ust- 
ally occurs in the fall. [In warm weath- 
er) they usually like to throw water 
balloons.” 


PATERNITY TESTING 
A blood-testing procedure developed 
for other purposes in 1952 has been 
found between 95 and 100 percent ef- 
fective in resolving paternity-suil issues 


and is being widely accepted as conclu- 
sive legal evidence in courts, Recogni- 
tion of the procedure by courts in New 
York has brought to at least 14 the 
number of states that now accept the 
test, known as H.L.A., for human 
leucocyte antigen. It identifies inher- 
ited genetic markers in the blood's 
white cells, allowing a laboratory to 
match a child with its biological father 
in almost all cases. The traditional red- 
blood-cell tests generally were able to 
eliminate some men who could not be 
a particular child's father but were not 
specific enough to prove that someone 
mas. 


VASECTOMY FOUND SAFE 

Reports that vasectomies can cause 
heart disease have been disputed by a 
new study published іп the Journal of 
the American Medical Association. The 
researchers also found that the mental 
health of the 250,000 Americans who 
go slerilizations cach year appears 

nificantly better ihan that of 
those who remain fertile. In an inter- 
view, one of the researchers said, “1 
would certainly conclude from this 
study that there is good evidence 
against any material, deleterious, long- 
lerm effects of this procedure.” 


V.D. DANGER 

cmcaco—d sexually transmitted dis 
ease that can cause infertility, infant 
pneumonia and other serious medical 
problems has reached epidemic propor- 
lions in this country. The infection is 
caused by a tiny organism called 
Chlamydia, which is a bacterium that 
grows inside human cells. In an inter- 
view in the Journal of the 
Medical Association, Dr. н 
Holmes of the U.S. Public Health 
Service Hospital in Seattle said that 
prenatal testing has found the disease 
present in five lo ten percent of women 
entering a University of Washington 
clinic and may be to blame for an 
alarming nationwide increase in ectop- 
ic pregnancies and for pneumonia or 
eye infections in newborn infanis. He 
added that nongonococcal urethritis 
due 10 Chlamydia infection is probably 
more common than gonorrhea among 
men in some communities and so far is 
neither well recognized nor correctly 
treated in many instances. 


CONSENTING SEX 
WASHINGTON, D.C—By refusing to re- 
instate the convictions of four New 
York residents, the U. S. Supreme Court 
let stand a ruling that the state's 
"sodomy" law is unconstitutional as 


applied to consenting adults. The ac- 
tion came in a single appeal stemming 
from three separate cases involving 
both heterosexual and homosexual con- 
duct, including a case dating back to 
1978 and supported by the Playboy 
Foundation. 


GOOD TRY 

ALBANY—The tax revolt of Ulster 
County's “mailorder ministers” has 
been quelled by a New York appellate 
court ruling that they cannot claim re- 
ligious exemption for property unless 
й is exclusively for church use. The 
decision upheld the state legislature's 
guidelines enacted to stamp out a 
rebellion that began in the town of 
Hardenburgh and soon spread to sur- 
rounding communities in which large 


numbers of citizens had th 
dained by mail and declared t 
homes and farms to be tax-exempt 
church property. 


CENSORS CLIPPED 

ANNAPOLIS—dfler more than 60 years 
of snipping sexually explicit scenes 
from movies, Maryland's motion-pic- 
ture censorship board —the only one in 
the country—lies dead on the cutting- 
room floor. The state senate voted 25 
to 20 against a house-passed bill that 
would have given the three-member 
board another term of existence. 


SATISFIED CUSTOMERS 

cocoa, FLORIDA—A cable-TV relay sta- 
tion malfunctioned, mistakenly picked 
up a satellite's blue-movie channel out 
of New York and gave Brevard County 
viewers seven and a half minutes of 
female nudity instead of Oral Roberts 
Gospel singers. The cable-TV manager 
said that the company serves 125,000 
customers, but only one complained. 


63 


PLAYBOY 


the sale of "drug paraphernalia" in 
stores, and possession thereof by individ- 
uals has been made a crime. This refers 
to items sold in record stores, head shops 
and other places and includes fancy 
pipes, cigarette papers, coke spoons and 
key chains bearing pictures of certain 
wild plants, The governor of Texas has 
proclaimed that this ra 


po 
m 
i 
o 
E 


move is 


guaranteed to drive the drug dealers out 
of business. 
This follows legislation that if passed 
CALL TOLL FREE 80: 
HESE NUNBERS FOR ORDERS ONTO | will require teenage girls to have written 


OPERATORS CANNOT ANSWERINGUIRIES. | Consent of both parents before obtaining 


‘SIZES. Г] SMALL (5-7) an abortion. 
|) What an interesting state to live in! 


COLORS: [J BLACK [JRED J. L. Huguley 


NO-NONSENSE GUARANTEE — а 
Refund if riot totally satisfied. af Houston, Texas 
returned immediately. $21.00 


PUNISHMENT FOR SIN 
The big double feature designed for 
teenage audiences was the Supreme 


arem Jum áit Court's summer spe States may re 

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"cnage girl ain an ab a 

Comfortable, Versatile and teenage girl can obtain an abortion and 


solers sata Vale may require jail terms for lustful teen. 
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Phe Court must believe that such pa- 


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SUNDOWN to sex: what it actually will do is send 


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send ONLY $21.00 plus $1.75 і Тһе Justices also decided that men 
handling charges (Florida and women are not always equal and 
deliveries add 4% state sales tax) upheld an old statutory-rape law that 
gives states that want it (and will they 


ever) the power to send boys to jail 
there to mix with murderers, thieves and 
homosexuals, and come out rehabilitat- 
ed. If they live that long 

The logic behind these decisions goes 
like this: Girls too young for abortion 
should be punished by motherhood; boys 
should go directly to jail. 

J. Andrews 


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P.O. Вох 1837 San Francisco, California 
Delray Beach, FL 33444 
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men and women! In upholding the Ca 
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responsible for illicit sex, Justice Rehn 


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Damn right they do. Maybe now those 

aw sae Ze young studs will think twice before slip 


ping out of their Calvin Kleins and into 
an adventure that, until now, has been 
dangerous primarily for women. 
(Name withheld by request) 
Milwaukee, Wisconsin 


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As ds their wont these days, the 
learned Justices gave a variety of weird 
and conflicting reasons lor upholding 
those archaic statutes, Frankly, I sus 
pect that the real reason the nine old 
men want adolescent Romcos jailed 
in California and pubescent Juliets 
in Utah snitched on by their doctors is 


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sheer envy. H. L. Mencken once de. 
fined. puritanism as the fear old men 
have that young people might be enjoy: 
ing themselves. 

Francis Dashwood 

Monte Rio, California 

We remember that. Mencken defined. 

puritanism as “the impulse to punish 
the man with а superior capacity for 
happiness.” 


MENTAL SHELL GAMES 

Next to the comic strips, my favorite 
morning reading is columnist George F. 
Will, because he is always so (uninten 
tionally) funny. His latest gem, defend. 
ing the Supreme Court's ruling that a 
teenage boy had to go to ng 
intercourse with his girliriend, included 
these remarkable lines: “Increasingly, 
the cultural assumptions that shape the 


for hav 


AGENT ORANGE 
The controversy over the effects of 
finally attracting 
national attention with increasing evi- 
dence that the defoliant used in Vict- 
nam may be that war's unexploded 
bomb, which finally is taking a heavy 


ent Orange is 


toll among former U.S. combat 
troops. Agent Orange: A Story of 
Dignity and Doubt is а half-hour 


16mm film or video tape that explores 
the issue in terms of 
posed to the herbicide, who believe 
their present illnesses are a direct 
result of that exposure. The film is 
narrated by Martin Sheen and inde- 
pendently produced by Jim Gambone 
with the assistance of The Minnesota 
Veterans Coalition and the Playboy 
Foundation. It can be purchased or 
rented by contacting Film in the 
Cities, Inc, 2388 University Avenu 
St. Paul, Minnesota 55114 (6 
616-6104). 


veterans ex- 


minds of those who shape the law sug- 
gest that it is at least quaint, is ahnost 
certainly quixotic and probably is wrong 
to try to use law to promote virtue. . . 
But law need not passively reflect social 
change One function of law is to 
express the community's core values." 
Evidently, Will wants us to believe 
that the libertarian notion that the law 
should deal only with crimes, not with 
“sins,” is a "cultural assumption,” where- 
that the 
core value 


should 
I think 
adorable. If 


as his own view 
punish sins is a 
that's so cute it's almost 
you don't watch his hı 
you hardly notice the pe. 
one shell to the other. 

Mr. Will, I submit that your desire to 
have the law impose your prejudices is 
the cultural assumption, and my deep 
conviction that government should leave 
us all the hell alone is a core 
Indeed, the idea of limiting govern 
ment to the sole function of physical 
ly protecting people, their property and 


ds very closely, 


moving from 


value 


and keeping it off our 
hacks otherwise, may well be the core 
hat єз our Constitution 


unique. 
Ed Peterson 
San Francisco, California 


SPACY 

‘The things going on in this country 
scare the hell out of me. Having rcalized 
t the new majority is moralistic, that 
religious zealots are mounting a cim- 
aign to tell us what we сап or cannot 
do with our bodies, 1 have come up with 
a simple solution. 

My friends and I are presently build- 
ing a spaceship called the Mayflower. On 
July 4, 1982, we plan to blast off into 
outer space and, after several years of 
space travel, land on Plymouth Rock, 
Jupiter. There, we will draw up a 
Declaration of Independence and wait 
for th tant moralists to send out 
the redcoats. 

(Name withheld by request) 
Hendersonville, North Carolina 

Movie fans will tell you that things 
can get pretty grim on Jupiter's moons, 
nol to mention the planct itself, and by 
the time you make it from the local 
Plymouth Rock to a Declaration of In- 
dependence (roughly 100 years, carth 
tine), there'll probably have to be some 
traditional witch burnings and other 
nonsense to put up with. Good luck, 
anyway. 


BLIND LEADING THE BLIND 
I work for 


state agency helping the 
a tell rLAvnov that this 
greatly aggravated for many 
by their lack of a sense of 
in a world of sex and bea 
only is presented only visually. The 
very fact that PLAvwoy exists in Braille 
helps bridge that gap. My patients feel 
less excluded {rom the real world, less ig- 
norant of the subjects others discuss 
frequently, less emotionally and socially 
ually crippled. The sightless 


uty that ce 


pusly hopes to 

rguments. to 
rial 
he finds personally or politically 
disagreeable, 

It should be enough that the s 
are spared visual exposur 
that might please and corrupt 
That they should be spared articles on 
censorship, social change and stupidity 
in high elective office isa bit much. 

(Name and address 
withheld by request) 


moralistic 
deny them access to editorial ma 


usc specious 


them. 


If it weren't a matter of some se 
riousness, it would be quite funny—the 
Congressman from Ohio who wants to 
cut off funding for the Braille edition 
of riaynoy provided by the Library of 
Congress. How did you wicked devils 
ever manage to render Playmates or the 


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PLAYBOY 


other pretty women into raised dots? 
That sounds like a fantastic technologi- 
cal breakthrough for the blind. 

I know that some people sniff di 
approvingly at the nudity in your maga- 
zine and that others snicker knowingly 
at those who claim they buy it for the 
articles. But PLAYBOY is so high on 
the reading list for the blind, that would 
scem to mean something, and you pcople 
should be most flattered that some po- 
litical mossback considers the magazine 
sufficiently provocative that the 
written material should be suppressed. 

Bill Daniels 

Baltimore, Maryland 
We were flaitered t0 make the famous 
ixon enemies list and would be wor- 
ried only if we didn't meet with the 
disapproval of some Congressmen. We 
heartily disapprove of some of them, so 


even 


fair is fair. We haven't said much about 
Representative Chalmers P. Wylie, be- 
cause this stunt may be his first official 
act to айтас! serious national attention 
and we don't feel like doing him any 


fax 


PROPER PUNISHMENT 

A popular radio news program stated 
that 65,000 legal abortions were per- 
formed during the past усаг 
vania. Twenty percent of those abortions 
were to welfare recipients, at a cost 
of $3,000,000-plus to the er. As a 
health. professional, I calculated the cost 
of 15,000 welfare abortions (20 percent 
of 65,000) at $300 each to be 53,900,000. 
That may seem like an overwhelming 
figure—both in dollars and in human 
life—but let me continue. 

Suppose each of those 13,000 wellare 


FORUM FOLLIES 


While covering Ohio 
legal decisions, Columbus 
Citizen- Journal reporter 
Harry Franken dug up 
the following gem: 

The Tenth District 
Court of Appeals in Co- 
lumbus has divided over 
whether Domestic Rela- 
ns Court Judge John 
Hill knows about the birds and the 
bees or was just kidding when he 
allowed that a woman plaintiff may 
have got pregnant from eng: 
sex. 
lt seems that the woman sued her 
г bastard: iming he 
the father of her child. The de- 
fendant admitted having had sex with 
the plaintiff about the time she con- 
ceived, but he argued that she had 
told him she used a contraceptive 
device. He later changed his story 
and said the only sexual activity had 
been prior to the probable period of 
conception. The woman insisted it 
had to be her boylriend because her 
only other activity had been oral 
sex with a 54-year-old diabetic who 
couldn't get it up for sex of any 
other kind. 

Judge Hill refused to rule that the. 
boyfriend was the father, : 


“I quite frankly have to say to you 
I don't know, I don't know whether, 
you know, in the course of some- 


g ev 
nkly don't know 
whether it would be possible lor 
you to get pregnant through that or 
not. Now, so, therefore, 1 can't find 


by a. preponderance of the evidence 
that he's the father of the child.” 
Appeals Court Judge John McCor- 


mac, with the concurrence | 
of Appeals Court Judge 
Thomas Moyer, called 
that “a sarcastic—and ill- 
advised—statement.” 

“The wial court did 
not take judicial notice 
that pregnancy could re- 
sult from oral sexual re- 
lations in his sarcastic 
remark, nor is the judgment against 
the manifest weight of the evidence,” 
McCormac declared in reluctantly up- 
holding the lower court's ruling. 
Appeals Court Judge Alba White- 
side dissented: 
l court's statement raises 
court's 
findings, even assuming it accurately 
reflects the trial court's lack of knowl- 
edge. Unfortunately, the oral opinion 
by the trial court at the conclusion of 
the trial sheds little light on whether 
there was any other basis for the trial 
court's judgment than its erroneous 
condusion that it might be possible 
for a woman to become 
through oral sexual rela 
man. 9 

"While the majority suggests thc 
trial judge may have been being 
‘cute by using sarcasm, the decision 
of a reviewing cot should not be 
predicated upon conjecture and spec- 
ulation as to a possible secret, but ui 
expressed, intent of the trial court's 
findings." 

A closer look at the record indicates 
that Judge Hill may, indeed, have be 
ieved it possible to get pregna 


“The tri; 
some doubt as to thc t 


oral sex, for he contemplates the mys- 
U 


n and observes, 
thing as artificial 
— H. в. FRANKEN 


s of reproduc 
‘There's such a 
insemination.” 


mothers had carried her pregnancy to 
term. At a modest welfare grant of $250 
per month (mother and one child) for 
18 years, the cost, per mother, would 
be $3000 per year (or $39,000,000 per 
year for the 13,000 nt). If you 
consider those figures over 18 years (not 
accounting [or inflation), the final sum 
is $702,000,000. 
Unfortunately, 


many of the Moral 
Majority and ""pro-lilers" are also those 
most adamant against social program: 
welfare and other forms of assistance. 
They would be the first to react nega- 
tively to a crease to support those 
people. 

In addition, many of those unwanted 
pregnancies result in children's being 
born into extremely hostile conditions. 
"Those conditions are foreign to thc 
Richard Schweikers, Jesse Helmses, ct al., 
who would virtually mandate mother- 
hood for all sexually active women. 
"Those unwanted children are often sub- 
jected to a living hell of inadequate 


emotional care, inadequate. food, hous- 
ing and medical care—and to actual 
physical and mental abuse. Again, the 
proponents of “pro-life” are less likely 


to support additional funding for soc 
programs to alleviate such injustices. 
Those same proponents are not eagerly 
waiting the arrival of a handicapped 
child, a child of mixed race or an older 
child (often the result of an abusive 
home situation) into their own homes, 

The Moral Majority may well wish 
to dictate the course of human cyents— 
but unless it has the convictions to sup- 
port its rhetoric with cold cash, it has 
right to demand that its personal 
be enacted into la 

Kit Kellinger 
Baden, Pennsylvania 

You speak wisely but to the deaf. 
We've long marveled at the depth of 
ideological commitment that permits 
anti-abortionists to reject a simple and 
rational position in favor of one so 
costly—to individuals. to society, to 
themselves—that only the fervor of theo- 
logical belief can defend it. Reason 
means nothing when the real disagree- 
ment n one group that considers 
sexual relations something holy and in- 
tended primarily if not exclusively for 
reproduction and another group that 
considers sex merely one of many facets 
of life that can bring either great. pleas- 
ous problems, depending on 
the exercise of judgment by individuals. 
The former group probably is correct in 
its assessment that there's a lot of bad 
judgment going around, but we are not 
convinced that motherhood is the proper 
punishment for either immorality or 
stupidity. 

The following letter, on page 70, is 
misinformed but unquestionably sincere 
and illustrates an opposite perception of 
this issue. 


is be 


ure or sci 


JJ J . A E 


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OR YOUR MONEY BACK. 


AND NOW.. 

If the women in this country would 
open their eyes instead of their legs, 
there would be no need for abortion. In 
this day and age, a woman need not get 
pregnant. Our taxes pay lor clinics and 
family-planning units and they arc 
1 throughout the country. Not to 
on the birth-control methods that 
are sold in drugstores, and the Christian 
organizations that will care for these 
women if they should become pregnant, 
putting the child in a good home, where 
it will be raised and cared for as the 
parents’ own. 

There arc too many unfortunate wom- 
cn who want babies but can't have 
them. There is truly no reason for an 
innocent child to be destroyed in а way 
as horrible as abortion. Why should a 
child suffer for its mother's mistake? T 
think if women knew how an abortion 
were done, they would not go through 
with it. The same is true of men and 
their reckless actions. 1 will use an old 
saying to explain it all: An ounce of 
caution is worth a pound of cure 

(Name withheld by request) 
Aurora, Colorado 


EYE FOR AN EYE 

I hope 1 can shed some light on the 
recent controversy surrounding the so- 
called Moral Majority. Many of those 
who call themselves Moral (with a capi- 
tal M) seem to be missing some very 
important points of Scriptur 

Nowhere in the Bible does God give 
men the right to enforce God's laws; in 
fact, the whole message of the New Tes- 
tament concerns God's forgiving nature. 
Jesus said, "Let he among you who is 
without sin cast the first stone.” Many 
modern-day Christians ignore the deep 
humility implied in that statement. In- 
deed, the most yocal of them scem more 
concerned with moral conformity than 
with self-examination. 

In the same vein, I don't personally 
believe a woman should have an abor- 
tion. But if she chooses to do so, it’s a 
matter between her and God—no one 
clse has а say in it. 

Finally, this: When Jesus disciples 
asked him how they would know when 
the end of the world was near, he said, 
“There shall arise false Christs and false 
prophets. . . . By their fruits yc shall 
know them.” 


Jeffrey W. Rutter 
Ventura, California 


The Playboy Forum" offers the 
opportunity for an extended dialog 
between readers and editors of this 
publication on contemporary issues. Ad- 
dress all correspondence to The Playboy 
Forum, Playboy Building, 919 North 
Michigan Avenue, Chicago, Hlinois 60611. 


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Johnny Rutherford 

makes his living 

by driving over 

THAT N 200 miles an hour 
RUTHERFORD sor there are n 
cars there are in 

W this world, the sports 


in a Chaparral that costs 
a quarter of a million dol- 
lars. Hes won more roces 
than you can shake a 
checkered flag at, in- 
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Indy 500. 
Out of all the 


car he chose was the Volkswagen 
Scirocco. How come, J.R? 

"Because the Sciroccos overhead 
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along with excellent aerodynamics 
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(EPA estimated 25] mpg, 40 mpg high- 
way estimate. Use "estimated mpg” 
for comparison. Mpg varies with speed, 
trip length, weather. Actual highway 
mpg will probably be less.) 


"whoever engineered this car did 
one heck of a job putting the power, 
handling, steering, comfort and brok- 
ing all in just the right balance. 

"Sure there are more powerful sports 
cars around bul who needs them on 
the highway or in downtown Indian- 
apolis. My Scirocco is plenty of car for 
me. All in all, it's o winner. And thats 
important. 

"Because nobody ever remembers 
who finished second” 

J.R, we couldn't have said it better 
ourselves. 


VOLKSWAGEN 
DOES IT 
AGAIN 


PLAYBOY INTERVIEW: DONALD SUTHERLAND 


a candid conversation about childhood traumas, sexuality, radical politics 
and strange roles with the star of “m+ars«h,” “klute” and “ordinary people” 


When the 1980 Academy Award nom- 
inations were announced last February, 
one name was conspicuously absent from 
the Best Actor category: Donald Suther- 
land, the star of “Ordinary People,” the 
performer whose. sensitive portrayal of 
Calvin Jarrett had brought to life the 
pain and stress of а very real American 
father. Sutherland, a veteran of more 
than 40 films, shrugged the insult off 
philosophically: He didn't tend to get 
awards for his work; besides, he wasn't 
going 10 worry—too many other things 
were going right in his life. Indeed, at 
16, Sutherland seems to be an 
coming into his own, His films have be- 
come big hits with the public. Since “О 
dinary People,” he has completed “Gas, 
“Eye of the Needle” and “Threshold.” 
Audiences seem to relate to Sutherland— 
they like his flexibility, his lanky looks, 
his abandonment to his roles. 

More and more, it seems that Suther- 
land is becoming to this generation of 
filmgoers what Humphrey Bogart was to 
movie fans of the Forties and Fifties: an 
actor with fascinating and unusual 
looks, а performer who can play a dozen 
roles and make cach one different. Even 
when Sutherland's films score low at the 


actor 


ooking back on it, the years with 
Jane Fonda provided me with the basis 
of what 1 guess will be the rest of my lif 
Jane helped me come out of an intel- 
lectual and emotional closet." 


box office, they have a cult following: 
“Fellint’s Casanova," "1900" and “Don't 
Look Now" are big numbers at the re- 
vival houses. 

What it may come down to is that 
Sutherland is ап original, and Holly- 
wood—despite all legends to the con- 
trary—is a very conventional place. 
There is something about Sutherland, 
about his looks, style, ideas. life, that 
cannot be pul into a box: His politics 
are leflish and he speaks up from time 
to lime; unlike most actors, he has not 
built а carcer with much forethought 
(instead, he has made a point of taking 
roles that ple him—he will play a 
cameo or a feature role, if the director 
is interesting); he’s a wild man with 
money and spends it with unusual aban- 
don; unlike many stars, Sutherland will 
never end up owning the better part of 
downtown Arizona as a tax shelter, 

As for the private Donald Sutherland, 
his life is both conventional and mot. 
He's been married. twice, had love af- 
fairs with some of the most interesting 
women on two continents; he has no in- 
terest in groupies or one-night stands. A 
critic of traditional marital forms, he's 
lived for ten years with Francine Ra- 


“I was up for a wonderful part, but I 
was told, ‘Sorry. You're the best actor 
for the vole, but this calls for a guy- 
next-door type. You don't look li 
you've ever lived next door lo anyone? 


cette, a beautiful French-Canadian ac- 


tress with whom he's had two sons, 
Roeg, seven, and Rossif, three. Suther- 
land and Racette live together without 


living together very much. He spends 
most of his year on location and she, 
who says she likes her privacy, usually 
doesn't join him when hes making a 
movie. “It’s great fun to have Donald 
around when he's here,” she laughs 
“Here” could be one of several places 


their Brentwood, Los Ang hom 
their sailboat, a хийе at York 
Sherry Netherland, a room in Montreal, 


Suth 
land's life is the life of a vagabond— 
with five bases. 

Yet it is as an actor that he remains 
his most unconventional. His films 
are a study in diversity: In “The 
Dirty Dozen,” hes a child killer; in 
“M*A*S*H,” he's a symbol of Sixties 
anger against war; in “Klute,” he's the 
sweet /hard country detective who saves 
Jane Fonda from a homicidal maniac; 
in Bernardo Bertolucci's “1900,” he is a 
homicidal maniac; in Federico Fellini's 
“Casanova,” he's the great lover; in 
“Don't Look Now,” he's an architect 
who presages his death in Venice; in 


Francine's apariment in Par 


PHOTOGRAPHY EY VERNON L, SMITH 


“If I were to live my life over again, 
the only thing ] would do differently 
is make love more. All the times that 
guilt or Protestantism held me bach, 
well, that’s been my loss.” 


73 


PLAYBOY 


74 


"Invasion of the Body Snatchers," he's a 
San Francisco food inspector who gets 
turned into an extraterrestrial pod. 

Growing up in Nova Scotia, Sutherland 
spent a pained childhood feeling differ- 
ent from others: He was too tall, too 
sickly, loo imaginative, too creative. His 
peers called him Dumbo and Goofus. 
Sutherland spent his childhood develop- 
ing a fast-paced imagination that would 
later fuel his acting talent. How he 
moved from Nova Scotia to Hollywood, 
how he survived two marriages, several 
career setbacks, the madness of the Six- 
ties and the dullness of the Seventies are 
all tales he tells to free-lance journalist 
Claudia Dreifus. Dreifus, whose interviews 
usually appear in the Sunday magazine 
of Newsday, filed this report: 

“I first met Sutherland in 1971, when 
he was doing the ‘Free the Army" shows 
with his good friend Jane Fonda. That 
was during the height of the Vietnam 
war and the ‘F.T-A? troupe was touring 
military bases to give GIs an antiwar 
revue. Sutherland was a big star already. 
Неа just done *M*A*S*H' and ‘Klute? 
and, to be nice about it, he was quite 
full of himself. My job was to cover the 
first ‘F.T-A? show in Fayetteville, North 
Carolina, for a rock magazine—and 
while I thought the show a great idea, 
Sutherland seemed very unpleasant and 
hostile. My impression of him then: 
closed, arrogant, self-righteous, а pain 
in the ass. 

Ten years later, the Donald Suther- 
land I met on assignment for PLAYBOY 
turned out to be a very different man. 
The decade had worked massive changes 
on his character. His relationship with 
Francine Racetle—free and yet commit- 
ted—had obviously been good for him. 
His carcer, which had been on a roll- 
er coaster of ups and downs, was on 
the upswing again. ‘Ordinary People’ 
was turning his life into pure joy—not 
to mention big money because he had a 
percentage of the film's. gross. On and 
off for six weeks this past summer, Suth- 
erland and I met regularly in the dingy 
back office of his New York publicist. 
As it turned out, he had plenty of free 
time. A play for which he had signed a 
seven-month contract, Edward Albee's 
‘Lolita,’ had closed after one week. Each 
day, we'd sit there with my tape record- 
er, with a huge pot of coffee, a mound 
of grapes for his special diet and my 
note pad of post-Freudian questions. 

“Sutherland became extremely at- 
tached to the room and could work in 
no other place. A minor crisis once en- 
sued when Candice Bergen wanted to 
use the room for something; she was 
sent elsewhere. At our third interview 
session, I suggested that Sutherland was 
qualifying 100 many of his statements— 
being too ambivalent at times. Hc 
looked at me sharply: ‘I don't mean to 
be. РИ tell you anything you want. I 


want to make this a very truthful inter- 
view. I don’t want to hold back.’ And, 
after that, he didn't. 

“When not making tapes, I spent a 
fair amount of time hanging out with 
Sutherland. He and Francine are great 
fun. One nighi, they took a group of 
us to a grand dinner; we were going 10 
see Fellini's ‘City of Women’ after the 
meal, but that seemed superfluous. 
Three kinds of wines and champagnes 
flowed, along with good talk and great 
food. Francine, who has a French wit, 
explained why Sutherland had been so 
impossible 10 live with while he was 
making ‘Fellini's Casanova’ (she had left 
him behind in Haly for most of nine 
months): ‘You cannot live with Casa- 
nova,’ she laughed. ‘Casanova is impos 
sible. He is like silk. Silk is very nice to 
feel and to wear, but you cannot wash 
u^ 

"After dinner, the group decided to 
walk to Rumpelmayer's on Central Park 
South—it's a place where Sutherland 
likes to go for postsupper milk shakes. 
During the ten-block stroll from the 
restaurant, Francine and her sister got 
lost. Sutherland was not concerned: 


———— 
"In the early Sixties, 
the voles I played were 
often homicidal 
istic 


ma niacs—b ut ari 
homicidal maniacs.” 


“Francine will turn up eventually 

“An hour later, a flower girl came in 
from the street and informed Sutherland 
that a stranger had purchased а bouquet 
of roses for him. Мо! too long after that, 
a waitress arrived with а huge stuffed 
dinosaur—presumably, another gif! [rom 
another admirer. This gift sparked his 
interest and he dashed outside to sec 
whal was going on. There was Francine, 
selling roses to passers-by: She had 
slipped the flower girl a few dollars and 
was plying her trade with a straight! face. 
"You conceited man!” Francine. shouted 
al Sutherland with a mock pout. ‘It sure 
took you a long time to get the message.” 
She had also rented a horse and carriage 
to lake them home. 

“The main thing I learned about 
Sutherland in the time I spent with him 
was that he's а man with a deep need 
to be loved and appreciated—more than 
most people in show business. When 
ABC's ‘20/20’ did a feature on him, sev- 
eral of his actor pals were asked to com- 
ment about him oncamera. All refused. 
Sutherland was wounded. No matter 
how much his publicist assured him that 


people like Robert De Niro, Jane Fonda, 
Robert Duvall and Robert Redford just 
didn't do oncamera comments for any- 
body, he remained hurt. 

"You shouldn't take it personally, 
I suggested. ‘Hollywood people just 
don’t have a Bronx street sense of loyal- 
ly.” He was not mollified. 

“What Sutherland does when he needs 
a fix of affection and affirmation is to 
look for it on the street. He is the only 
movie star I've met who likes what hap- 
pens to him when he strolls down Sixth 
Avenue. Strangers stop and stare, Aulo- 
graphs are requested. In response, he 
ups his Panama hat, offers a grin as 
wide as Central Park—and, for a brief 
moment, feels like he owns the town. As 
he signs autographs, he feels his cars 
are just fine and that he's far from Nova 
Scotia and Goofus; he feels that his life 
glows and thal, yes, he is, indeed, very 
beautiful.” 


PLAYBOY: In a recent magazine article, 
you were described as а "beautiful gi- 
ralfe.” Do you think you're good-look- 
ing, as movie stars are supposed to be? 
SUTHERLAND: A beautiful girafe? Gi- 
raffes are ugly. АЙ I see is those long 
necks and the knobby little things on 
top of their heads. But, no, I don't like 
my face much. I'm not wild about my 
nose, I hate my ears. I wish my face were 
less thin. And I wish people wouldn't 
come up to me in airports and say, "My 
God, you sure look better in person than 
you do in movies." 

PLAYBOY: Your unconventional looks 
must have something to do with 
your early career, when you played bi- 
zarre characters. Did you ever think you 
were in danger of becoming this genera- 
tion's Boris Toll? 

SUTHERLAND: Boris Karloff? Mmm. I never 
thought of it that way—but, yes. I was 
working in British television in the early 
xties, and the kinds of roles I played 
were often homicidal maniacs—but artis- 
tic homi i Li i 
movie work, in Dr. Terror's House of 
Horrors, 1 played a doctor who killed his 
vampire wife. At the end of the story, 
I'm in trouble and 1 remind the town's 
other doctor, “But you 1014 me to drive 
a stake through her heart." He denies it, 
laughing, “Wi nonsense." After they 
cart me off to jail, he says, “There wasn't 
enough room in this town for two doc- 
tors—or two vampires." Then he flies 
away. 

Let's sce: In Die! Die! My Darling, I 
put lifts and shoulder pads on, dy 
white and played someon 
speech impediment who was retarded. 
In The Dirty Dozen, 1 played а guy 
killed a child. And, of course, there w 
the one that started it all—Castle of the 
Living Dead, in 1964—and 1 played a 
tch in that. Come to think of it, 
wasn't just in the early parts. Recently, 


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PLAYBOY 


76 


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in 7900, directed. by Bernardo Berto- 
lucci, I played the part of a terrible, 
vicious mean, a guy who 
smashes cats to death by butting them 
with his head isn't someone most people 
will identify with. 
PLAYBOY: And yct one of the parts you'll 
be remembered for is that of Calvin 
Jarrett, the father in Ordinary People. 
SUTHERLAND: Yes, I can't tell you how 
wonderful my street life has been since 
Ordinary People. Now strangers come 
up to me to say they have a cousin who is 
just like Calvin Jarrett. What I get from 
the public is warm and wonderful. But 
it started to turn around before that, in 
1978, when I did Invasion of the Body 
Snatchers. It was a freaky movie, but 
my part was very mainstream. For once, 
I looked like the guy next door. 
PLAYBOY: Which must have been a relief. 
SUTHERLAND: Yeah, especially when I con- 
sider the roles that were denied me be- 
cause of my looks. Once, about 25 years 
ago, in London, I was up for a wonder- 
ful part in a movie called Three O'Clock 
in the Morning. 1 read for it and instant- 
ly knew I was absolutely right for the 
part. The next day, 1 was taken to an 
office and was sat down as if I were a 
child about to be expelled from school 
and told, “We're terribly sorry. You're 
undoubtedly the best actor for the role, 
but this part calls for а guy-next-door 
type. Mr. Sutherland, you don't look 
like you've ever lived next door to any- 
on 
PLAYBOY: Has it always been that way 
for you? 
SUTHERLAND: Yeah, I was always а gawky 
kid. I had polio and my left leg was 
shorter than my right, and when I was 
ten or eleven, 1 was a head taller than 
anyone around. My head was thin and 
long and everyone called me Goofus or 
Dumbo. The implication there was that 
Thad I could fly with them. 
Once, during summer vacation, the 
other kids hid up in a tree and when I 
walked beneath them, they peed on my 
head. Т went to my mother, who never 
allowed herself to be surprised about 


killer. 1 


ars so big 


anything, and told her about it. She 
looked at me gently and said, “Well, 
Donnie, what did you expect?” She was 


wonderfully honest and would never lic 
about anything. I asked her once, “Am 
I good-looking?” She said, "No." But 
then she added, “Your face has a lot of 
character, Donnie.” 

PLAYBOY: Which wasn't what you w 
to hear. 

SUTHERLAND: No. Though I had a wonder- 
ful childhood inside my head, outside I 
was terrificd about how I related to the 
rest of the world. I hoped, somehow, that 
I had some kind of mask that would let 
me slide through. | hoped 
wouldn't go, “Ugh!” when they saw me. 


щей 


people 


I really wanted, desperately, to be ordi- 
nary—anonymous. 

PLAYBOY: It docsn't sound like you had 
a chance. Do you want to talk about it? 
SUTHERLAND: О Тһе basic facts about 
my childhood are that I was born in St. 
John, New Brunswick, in 1935. My fam 
ly lived on a farm in Hampton, a half 
hour out of town, We had a cow named 


Bossie, and pigs. As a child, I was sick 
all the time. I had polio, rheumatic 
fever, hepatitis, a mastoidectomy, two 
tonsillectomies—the first one was incom- 
plete—and, basically, every illness in the 
book. I seemed to be accident-prone. 
Once, my mother said, "Donnie, watch 
out for that stick,” and the next thing I 
knew, this big wooden stick was stuck in 
my throat. My mother had to hold on to 
my blood vessel to kcep me alive until 
the doctor arrived. Getting sick wasn't 
all that bad. My father, who hates hos- 
pitals, would break his ass to get private 
nurses for me. I was my father's favorit 
As for the family, it was loving—close. 
My mother was a minister's daughter, 
with a very strong sense of right and 
wrong. 

PLAYBOY: What was your father? 
SUTHERLAND: My father is a gambler—an 
87-year-old gambler. When my father 
wasn't gambling, he was a salesr 
wonderful salesman, a brilliant entrepre- 
neur. He used to pride himself on having 
the largest sales record and the largest 
expense account of any salesman in all 
Canada. He used to say t he would 
have been the best salesman in the 
world i£ he had been born an Ameri 
can—which is such a Canadian thing 
to say. 

Canadians are so incredibly insecure. 
Every single Canadian has, somewhei 
in his psyche, a fecling that people in 
the United States have some kind of 
visceral experiences 
that he does not have. If you're Cana- 
dian, you think about a person from the 
States as the brother who went out to 
sea and 
51,000,000 in Costa Rica or Hong Kong. 
PLAYBOY: Back to your father. Was it 
fun—his flamboyance, his gambling? 
SUTHERLAND: No. The gambling m 
жаз. Sometimes, we'd go to these wonder- 
fully clega 
father sitting at one and sa 
der what the poor people 
today." And he'd order something very 
extravagant from the waiter and turn to 
my mother and say, "What do we care 
for expenses? We've got plenty of mon- 
ey!” In fact, he had lost everything. We 
had nothing. My mother was in tears for 
the whole meal. 

You know, recently, I got a letter from 
my first wile, Lois. She'd seen Ordinary 
People and she thought I'd played my 


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father in it. But that wasn't right—my 
father is nothing like C. 


vin Jarrett. He 
is, in fact, the reverse of him. The closest 
Ive been to my father in a movie was 
the old man in Fellini's Casanova. There 
were parallels to draw on: My father's a 


strong individual, but he’s never thought 
t much about the future. Never 


Its a real drag. But, anyway, in Casa 
nova, 1 was trying to sound and move 
like him, And when they put the old 
make-up on me, I looked in the mirror 
and I saw the face of my mother! 


Francine came into the dressing room 
and went, “АҺА!” It was a shock. 
PLAYBOY: Was being an adolescent in 
Nova Scotia hard? 

SUTHERLAND: Adolescence cverywhere is 
hard. Its normal condition is madnes 
PLAYBOY: What about yours in particu 
lar? Were you a rebellious teenager? 
SUTHERLAND: No, not at all 
lot of Calv 
I said, my mother's father w 


There was a 


nist feeling in my house. As 


a minister 


and some things—sex, for instanc 


were 
never talked about. People now have no 
idea how repressed the Forties were— 
how dry, how sexually ignorant. My 
terribly frightening 
to me. My first erection happened in a 


body's changes wer 


school shower. I had no idea what it was 
Well, in school, we had been shown a 
film about venereal disease and hookers 
in Japan. No one told us anything uselul 


about vaginas or penises or sexuality or 
All they 
said was. "Something will happen and 
you'll get a disease and you'll have huge 
sores." So when I got my first erection, 1 
was convinced it was a venereal disease. 
I walked around for two whole days. 
wondering how | was going to explain 
to my mother that I had V.D. 

PLAYBOY: Did you have a difficult time 
with girls? 

SUTHERLAND: At first, | was mostly afraid 
and guilty 
had girllriends—some ri 


and bea 


anything we needed to know. 


oh. so guilty! But I always 
ally wonderful 
itiful women. But it 


lways sur 
prised me that they wanted anything to 
do with me. The guilt 
thing. My first kind of sexual experi 
ence—all it was was kissing and touch 
ing. 1 must have been 13. We sat on het 
back porch, She was wearing panties and 
it was so erotic. But as soon as we had 
finished, I jumped up and said, "Im 
sorry! I'm sorry!” And 1 was kneeling 
and begging her to forgive me. God, 
awful. Just the thought of it. 

In the next couple of months, some 
one told me about masturbation. I had 
no idea what he was talking about 
Nevertheless, I went home and mastur 
bated. And, God, I have to tell you, it 
was the hugest shock! I never expected 
anything to come out from where I peed! 


that was the lı 


that’s se 


When I suddenly had this overwhelming 
explosion, I nearly died of a heart attack. 
Needless to say, I felt this was original 
sin—this had to be, if anything was. 
PLAYBOY: You didn't trust your senses? 
You couldn't say to yourself, “Hey, this 
feels good, 1 should go with it"? 
SUTHERLAND: Oh, God, no. You know the 
Lena Horne song, “If it feels good, it 
must be right"? Well, the main feeling 
1 had was, If it feels good, it must be 
wrong. Even when, years later, it came to 
making love to a girl | was in love 
with, even (hat felt wrong. Some of this 
has caused sadness. ] think if 1 were to 
live my life over again, the only thing 
I would do differently is make love more. 
All the times that guilt or Protestantism 
or whatever has held me back from mak- 
ing love to someone I had affection for, 
well, that’s been my loss. 
PLAYBOY: Did you alwi 
Nova Scotia for Hollywood and the big 
time? 
SUTHERLAND: Oh, no. When 1 was a boy, 
I never wanted to be a movie actor. It 
wasn't within the rcalm of possibility. 
The idea of being a stage actor was fine. 
Hollywood was someplace you knew ex- 
ised, like never-never land, but real 
people didn't live there. And if they did, 
no one from Nova Scotia ever got there, 
anyway. As I said carlicr, to be born 
Canadian is to be born with somewhat 
of an inferiority complex. No, what hap- 
pened to me was that I decided to study 
acting at the University of Toronto. I 
did school plays. I did summer stock. 1 
did terrible work in engineering classes, 
which is what my father wanted. Then, 
toward the end of time at school, I made 
a bet with myself. I had this small part 
in The Tempest, a hard part. 1 prepared 
very carefully. There was a very influen- 
tial critic at the 
Mail, Herbert Whittaker, and I said to 
myself, H he likes what I've done, TIL 
become an actor. If he doesn't, ГІ quit. 
PLAYBOY: And? 
SUTHERLAND: And he wrote, “Donald 
Sutherland has a spark of talent that 
illuminates the stage.” So the year after 
my graduation, when I was 23, 1 went to 
England to study at the London Acade- 
my of Music and Dramatic Art. Very 
Very ry, very 
British. It was there that I was complete- 
ly miserable. And it was there, because 
of bad training, that I lost my voice. Oh, 
1 had the most beautiful, deep, melodic 
voice! 1 could do almost anything with 
it. My teacher, Iris Warren, said it was 
the wrong octave for the English stage 
She made me do exercises to raise it an 
octave and I strained my vocal cords and 
then .. . my voice was gone. T couldn't 
allord to go to high-priced Harley Street 
doctors to get it fixed afterward, either. 
Jris Warren hated my guts. She once 


s want to leave 


Toronto Globe and 


snobby prestigious. V 


went up to an actor friend of mine at 
a school Christmas party and said, 
“George, you mustn't spend so much 
time with Donald, we have respect for 
your work" It was hard for me to be 
so—disliked. I have a strong need to be 
liked by the people I'm around, But 


ever since then, 1 haven't had much re- 
spect for acting teachers. That pla 
just not good for North American ac- 
ply. North 
tempera- 


e was 


tors—they treated them horri 
Americans have a different 


ment, voice, attitude. 

PLAYBOY: Were you treated like a pro- 
vincial? 

SUTHERLAND: I was a provincial. I wa 
from Nova Scotia. 1 was like Klute— 
the first time he sees New York. By the 
end of my second year—it was a three- 
year program—I knew things were only 
to get worse if 1 stayed, so I 


goin 
dropped out. When I look back on it 
now, I think 1 had a Kind of minor 
breakdown around that time. I just m 
member my scalp and my ears moving 
in a way that was so tense. I was very, 
very nervous and unhappy. 

PLAYBOY: You were married around that 
time, weren't you? 

SUTHERLAND: Yes. I had met Lois at the 
University of Toronto and we had lived 
together. When I was at my unhappiest 
in London, she happened to send me 
some roses. The next day, she phoned 
me from Canada. “Did you get the 
And I said, "Oh, for God's sake, 
boat and come here." So she 
boat and we got married and 


roses?” 
get on 
got on 
it lasted for seven years. 

PLAYBOY: Why didn't it last longer? 
SUTHERLAND: Because it was a fix for my 
loneliness at that moment. But it wasn't 
a life remedy. Lois and 1... even now, 
we're good friends. She just wrote to me 
the other day and asked me to send her 
some tapes of poetry 1 used to read to 
her. We did a lot of th reading to 
each other. 

PLAYBOY: After you left the academy, 
your career improved, didn't it? 
SUTHERLAND: Oh, yes. There was a won- 
derful year working in a repertory com- 
pany in Perth, Scotland, and it was there 
that 1 developed a great liking for 
Scotch whisky. By 1961, 1 was working 
in repertory theaters all around England 
and doing parts on British television, on 
The Saint and things like that. 

In 1964, I did my first big feature, 
Castle of the Living Dead, which was 
shot in Italy, and it was there that my 
film career began to take off. It was also 
there, in 1964, that I fell into the house 
of Shirley Douglas, my second wife. 
PLAYBOY: What happened to Lois? 
SUTHERLAND: 1 had fallen in love with a 
woman, a secret woman. We were to- 
gether about a year, furtively. When 


RONRICO 


The taste that 
could start a 


» 


PLAYBO 


80 


that relationship ended, so did the m 
riage. Everything just fell apart. For a 
while after that, I lived with another 
woman, a really bcautiful, intelligent 
actress. And then came Italy and Shi 
ley. But the marriage to Lois just basical- 
ly ended the way it began: It had run its 
course. It just stopped. It was like a bus 
ride. I got on the bus and then I got off. 
Now, my second marriage, to Shirley, 
isn't like that al all. With her, it 
nore like flagging a bus—and getting 
run over. Shirley . . . Shirley, she's a 
very complex and interesting woman. 
Her father was the head of the New 
Democratic Party—which is the left po- 
litical party in Canada. I was attracted to 
ley in the same way I'm still attracted 
to her. She's a. very dynamic, powerful, 
extraordinary person. From the first, we 
didn't make a very good couple. Our 
needs were so different. But in 1966, 
when it turned out that she was preg- 
nant, it wasn't so much like a burden— 
it was a gift. It was like, “Ah, thank God, 
maybe this will make the thing work for 
us." I mean, we loved cach other. So we 
got married in the middle of the filming 
of The Dirty Dozen. John Cassavetes was 
my best man. Shirley and I had three or 
four very difficult years ahead. We stayed 
together under the most diffcult circum- 
stances until . . . until 1 met another 
woman. 
PLAYBOY: Jane Fonda? 
SUTHERLAND: Yes. 
PLAYBOY: We'll talk 
Why did you and § 
stormy time? 


about that later 
hirley have such a 


We had twins, and they were wonder- 
ful. But we were pulling apart all the 
me. s “the boss” in the mar- 
n the relationship was to 
be inferior on as many levels as possible. 
When my career really took off with The 
Dirty Dozen and with M*A*S*H, I 
think my success bec 


cult for her to take, 1 wasn't 
nymore. 

PLAYBOY: Did you do a lot of drinking 

during t ge 


SUTHERLAND: D) ing is an understate- 
ment for what we did: а boule of Scotch 
a day. Shirley was a heavy drinker at the 
ic—she's since stopped. 

PLAYBOY: Did you drink a lot together? 
SUTHERLAND: I think we drank a lot— 
apart. We'd start the day by getting up 
and filling am orange-juice glass with 
Scotch. And things went on from the 
Oh, God, I remember . . . once in 1967, 
we had just moved to Los Angeles from 
Europe. The Dirty Dozen had come out 
and it seemed a good idea to be near 
the work in L.A. Well, Shirley thought 
it was very us to live in 
Beverly Hills, be he schools are 
better for the kids." We didn't have two 
cents to live on. But, somehow, Shirley 


borrowed .000 from a bank in Eng- 
land and we moved into one of the 
most expensive rental houses їп all 
Beverly Hills. Well, we lived there— 
without money for clothes or food or 
even the whisky and four packs of ciga- 
rettes y we were doing. One day, 
after making a total ass of myself at a 
Hollywood producer's home, I stopped 
drinking 
PLAYBOY: You just stopped flar? 
SUTHERLAND: Yes. That and smoking. All 
at once. It was Monday and I said. “On 
Saturday night, at midnight, I will go to 
bed and never smoke cigarettes or drink 
whisky again." And I never have. I do 
drink wine. But whisky . . . I hate being 
out of control. 

PLAYBOY: Was it hard to go cold turkey? 
No. | do anything I 
obsessed and crazed by it 
for a whole day—but then I was OK. 
You know, once in 1967, Shirley had 
me go to this doctor in Engl a psy- 
chiatrist. 1 was depressed, I guess. Well, 
he put me on Stelazine in combination 
with something else. The combination 
it was banned in the 


——— 
" [don't mind surrendering 
will. I mean, I know, 
sexually that's what I 
do—that’s part of 
what I do.” 


ates. Well, I took those horri- 
ble drugs for two years. When I got back 
to the States, my own doctor couldn't 
believe I ng that drug. He told 
me it would take months to get olf. I 
said, “No, I'm oll of it as of this minute.” 
And І was. I don't know what the long- 
term results might be, but I could get 
off of heroin if I had to. I might be 
banana alterward, but I could still gee 
off. 

PLAYBOY: Why did you pi 
give you Stelazine? That's 
given to psychotics. 
SUTHERLAND: ] went to the psychiatrist 
because Shirley told me to. T js what 
he gave me. I did everyth icy told 
me to do. 

PLAYBOY: You just surrendered your will? 
SUTHERLAND: I don't mind surrendering 
will. I 1 know, sexually that's 
what I do—that's part of what I do. 
PLAYBOY: From what wi d, Shirley 
olved in radical politics and, 
you were 
make for 


t anyone to 
drug usually 


mez 


ve rea 


less of an acti: 
conflicts? 

SUTHERLAND: Oh, yes. T was an actor, am 
an actor. І might imbue my work with 


political sensibilities, but I am actor 
first. As for Shirley, she spent some of her 
time on street corners trying to conve 
any black person she met to the Black 
Panther Party—something I was not do- 
ing. I kind of resigned myself to the situ- 
nd tri 
to support her and the children. In the 
end, I thought it was much more impor- 
е 
t went on in my 
Do you know that 
ends of the Black 
Panthers used to have meetings in my 
house that were so secret that I wasn't 
allowed to attend? I found that so 
palli: » We were making M*4* 
at the time—and the whole thing 
ng. If you look at M*4* 


= 
me get into a fluster 


madden 
n, 
about something during one scene. 
liott Gould puts a spoon in my mouth 
and calls me Shirley. That's because he 
was making fun of me and the kind of 
turmoil going on in my house. 

PLAYBOY: T he FBI raided your 
house; that's more than turmoil—that's 
big trouble. 

SUTHERLAND: That actually happened a 
couple of times. Once, the police raided 
our country house in New York. They 
were looking for Angela Davis, but she 
wasn't there. Angela, I think, was at the 
or somewhere. But the real- 
id was while I was in Yugo- 
slavia making Kelly's Heroes. Our house 
in Los Angeles was raided and Shirley 
ged with conspiracy to raise 
money for firearms for the Black Pan- 
thers, or something wild like th ‘They 
bejesus out of my kids 
and harassed them. During the raid, they 
said, “АП right, Sh 
wall" and they held a g inst my 
stepson's head. The police went in with 
guns drawn at two in the morning, and 
they took Shirley to the station. 1 don't 
know what happened—whether it was 
true that she put a check in the п 
for $100, as they said, or whether she 
had ordered hand grenades 
it was. The case was eventually thrown 
out of court 
PLAYBOY: What did you do in Yugoslavia 
when you heard about the FBI raid? 
SUTHERLAND: It was not the best news to 
hear. But. filming Kellys Heroes was a 
r on a lot of scores. I nearly died 
n Yugoslavia. Spinal mening 
I was in a coma: I remember being 
side my body and looking out. And I 
could see th 


ilbox 


r whatever 


gh my eyelids. Doctors at 


t understand a damn word, be- 
cause they spoke Serbo-Croatian. I guess 


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she got there, I was alive. It w: 
an awkward moment for the relation- 
ship. For the first time in about six 
months, she embraced me. I couldn't tell 
her that in lilting me up off the bed and 
embracing me the way she did, she w: 
causing me more pain than I had ever e 
perienced in my life. Our relationship 
ad really turned terrible by that time. 
I mean, she could hardly kiss me. 
PLAYBOY: In Ordinary People, Mary 
Tyler Moore's character has great dith- 
culty touching her son. 
SUTHERLAND: Yes, but ] didn't make the 
connection until I saw the picture. When 
I was playing the part, I didit think 
about any parallels to my own life. After 
1. when I saw the movie, Е started 
to laugh: it was like home used to be. It 
wasn't that Shirley had trouble touch. 
ing me—she couldn't stand touching me. 
A lot of the wounds I felt because ol that 
relationship finally healed when I went 
with Jane. Jane isa truly wondertul per 
son to lov loving, loving person 
PLAYBOY: You mentioncd M*A*S*H. 
Was it fun to work with Robert Alunan? 
SUTHERLAND: I wouldn't say it was fun. I 
loved Elliott [Gould] and a lifetime 
friendship was made there. But 1 was 
rd time with Shirley and 
a very "group" kind ot 
g- I'm not good in groups. People 
were doing a lot of dope. L was “Elliott's 
friend.” I wasn't Alunan's first choice for 
the part, anyway. He wanted James 
Garner. Ingo Preminger, the producer, 
had seen me in The Dirty Dozen and it 
was he who wanted me. The whole ех. 
perience was very strange, very confused. 
Altman had thrown the script away and 
he'd fired the cameraman. Bob was di. 
recting it in such a way that we didn't 
do the same sound take for a close-up or 
a medium shot. We said different things. 
I don't know how the sound editor got 
it all together. I hope he got an Oscar 
He sure deserved a citation from God, 
because he did a genius job on it 
PLAYBOY: Did the stardom that came 
with M*A*S*H (ecl good? 

SUTHERLAND: It felt good for Elliott. For 
But I do re 


me, it was a mixed thing. 
member going to New York alter 
M*A*S*H, and Elliott was at the height 
of his success and people just mobbed 
him wherever he went. We went into 
this wonderful restaurant and he ordered 
a boule of Château Laflite, 1919, 
everyone in the restaurant was looking 
atus. Four waiters in white tails brought 
us the wine. The wine w 
poured and approved oL 


swirled it around in his mouth. 


and 


snilfed and 
nd Elliott 


looked up at the waiter, grinned idioti 
cally and let the wine drip out of his 
The reaction in the 
restaurant was one of the funniest sight 
you've seen in your life, though no 
body laughed 

PLAYBOY: And it was through Gould that 


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PLAYBOY 


you met Jane Fonda, wasn't it? 
SUTHERLAND: Yes. She had come to El- 
liott's house for something. She was still 
with Roger Vadim at the time. 1 remem- 
ber we touched hands—just the tips of 
our fingers—and it was really electric. A 
couple of days later, she came to my 
kitchen and we talked. Jane was going 
through huge changes at the time. She 
was just about to leave Vadim. She and 
a companion had traveled across the 
United States and she had seen her own 
country from a completely new perspec- 
tive. In a firsthand way, Jane was learn- 
ing about Indians, ghettos, poverty— 
things she had known about only ab. 
stractly before. And she was so very open 
to everything she was seeing. She soon an- 
nounced herself as a radical and became 
an activist. Well, at the same time that 
Jane was going through this, we fell in 
love. I left Shirley—though Jane and I 
never really lived together continuously 
Basically, our three years together were 
a time when we were both experiment- 
ing and seeking: politically, emotionally, 
personally. 1 lived mostly in rented 
rooms. At the Chateau Marmont in L.A., 
in a loft in Chelsea in New York while 
we were making Klute. 

PLAYBOY: What was it like to mix up 
your personal, political and professional 
lives? 

SUTHERLAND: It was one big bowl of soup 
and it was terrific, wonderful. You 


couldn't ask for a more generous, excit- 
ing, funny, sensuous woman than Jane. I 
loved her with all my heart. As we talk 
now, I have a vision of her—of how 
funky she looked with a curly wig in 
Steelyard Blues. Jane would talk a great 
deal about "fragmentation"—about how 
painful it was not to live a life with “a 
center." We fought, we struggled not to 
live fragmented lives. 

PLAYBOY: Whose idea were the Free the 
Army [F.T.A.] shows that you, Jane and 
others did in the carly Scventies? 
SUTHERLAND: Jane's—and also Howard 
Levy's, who was an ex-Army captain 
court-martialed for refusing to train 
Green Berets. What we did was tour 
military bases—here and in the Far 
Fast—and put on antiwar revues. My 
part was to read the final passage from 
Dalton Trumbo's Johnny Got His 
Gun—the section where the guy wakes 
up and discovers he has no arms or legs 
The idea behind F.T.4. was to show 
GIs—and this was during the heat of the 
Vietnam war—that not all performers 
were Bob Hope. We gave them mild 
antiwar satires and they loved it. 

Gls hated that war, hated what they 
were being forced to do. Wherever we'd 
go. soldiers would come up to us and 
tell us of atrocities they'd committed, of 
the bad dreams they were having be- 
cause of it, about how much they wanted 
the war to end. For me, I had no 


trouble participating in that kind of 
protest. I didn't like doing anything 
political within the United States—be- 
cause I am, after all, Canadian. But 
there was a huge Canadian partici 
in the war—and so I felt, on this, I had 
a right. 

The F.T.A. shows were incredibly im- 
portant to me on a personal level. I had 
experienced these incredible successes 
with Klute and M*A*S*H and it would 
have been real easy to become over- 
whelmed by big-star fantasies. The tours 
always brought me down to carth. You 
can't feel like you're such hot stuf when 
you're in the Philippines and some sol- 
dier is telling you about how his best 
friend was blown up for nothing 
PLAYBOY: Did your participation in 
F.T.A. hurt your career? 

SUTHERLAND: I don't know. It's hard to 
say. I don't think the authorities tried 
to smear me in the same way they tried 
to smear Jane. What I do know is that 
1 came back from the F.T.A. tour and 
things just fell apart. I had been con- 
sidered one of the major “bankable 
stars, along with Streisand and Redford 
and folks like that, just before I left 
And then, you know, I just went off to 
the Far East with Jane for a year. When 
I came back, I was broke and there were 
a lot of people in the film-making com- 
munity who weren't particularly happy 
with my political position. While my 


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films remained strong in Europe, noth- 
ing really big happened for me until 
1973 and Don't Lock Now. 

PLAYBOY: During the years you were with 
Jane, her every movement was monitored 
by the Government. What was it like to 
have a relationship under surveillance? 
SUTHERLAND: Funny. Every call was 
bugged, so you talked in code and gob- 
bledygook. We'd have а supersecret 
rendezvous. We had a house—or she had 
a house—with a garage on one street, a 
front door on another and a back door 
on a third street. I'd leave the house at 
night, drive around the block and drive 
back to the garage, which had a door 
that led directly to the bedroom, and 
then we'd go to sleep. For a good year, 
nobody knew we were together, despite 
all the surveillance. We had a wonderful 
time. We'd laugh about it. But once— 
and this wasn't funny—Jane was coming 
into the States through Canada, and the 
police kept her in jail and wouldn't let 
her change her tampon and other things. 
They laid it down heavy on her. 
PLAYBOY: And not on you? It certainly 
must have bothered you to see men in 
dirty raincoats standing in front of your 
house taking notes every time you and 
Jane held hands. 

SUTHERLAND: No. There had been more 
of those guys in front of Shirley's house. 
PLAYBOY: Why did the affair end? 
SUTHERLAND: "Го be honest, there never 


was the sense that it would go on for all 
that long. I mean, it was not going to be 
a permanent relationship and we both 
knew it. While it was going on, it was 
terribly exciting at all levels. Looking 
back on it now, those three years pro- 
vided me the basis of what I guess will 
be the rest of my life. Jane helped me 
come out of an intellectual and emo- 
tional closet. In the end, I guess, we just 
fell out of love with each other. We had 
broken up once before we started the 
Е.Т.А. tour, and then we got together 
again. We stayed together as friends 
throughout most of the F.T.4. tour. 
Jane had a lot of other work. She was 
going in a whole other way. 

PLAYBOY: Was the breakup related to 
Tom Hayden? 

SUTHERLAND: No. Not really. No, it wasn't. 
It was just over. 

PLAYBOY: What did you do after that? 
SUTHERLAND: Shot myself! [Laughs] No, 
what I did was buy a dog. l did. I 
bought a beautiful Scottish otterhound 
and I packed my bags and went inside 
my head. I've come out a lot now and 
again since them. In the period after 
that, I spent a lot of time traveling. 1 
was in Japan and then came back 
through Europe to America. Got my dog 
and went to Miami. Went to Canada 
and made Alien Thunder there. While 
on that movie, I met Francine and fell 
very carefully in love with her. I've been 


in love with her ever since. 

PLAYBOY: When you say carefully, what 
do you mean? 

SUTHERLAND: Just that. Carefully. Falling 
in love with Francine was like diving 
into a lake—and I was checking to sec 
if there were any rocks there. Usually, 
I fell in love and I crashed on my head. 
PLAYBOY: How did you meet her? 
SUTHERLAND: We were working on this 
movie together and I took an instant 
dislike to her. She was tall and dark and 
very beautiful. She didn't seem to like 
me very much. For me, the need to be 
liked is very big. We were both living 
at the Idylwyld Motel in Saskatoon, 
Saskatchewan. She lived upstairs from 
me. She had a dog, and I had that 
wonderful Scottish hound. Most of our 
communication involved our trying to 
keep our dogs apart. One afternoon, I 
was having a shower and I had left my 
door open so that my dog could come 
and go. Well, the dog ran off and I ran 
alter it—wet, from the shower, stark- 
naked. And suddenly, there was Fran- 
cine standing in the doorway. She took 
one look at me and she ran away. She 
was back a minute later, though. She 
had not run away because she was 
shocked—she had run to get her glasses! 
It was funny. 

PLAYBOY: What happened to the dogs? 
SUTHERLAND: The dogs made love and 


85 


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so did we. The dogs had babies and so 
did we. 

PLAYBOY: "Today, you choose mot to 
marry, despite the fact that you have 
two children together. 

SUTHERLAND: She chose not to marry. 
When Franc was about 11 years old, 
her mother took her to the wedding of 
a cousin that scared the living bejesus 
out of her. She was literally so fright- 
ened that she ran home and said, 
“Please—I'll do anything you ask, just 
don't make me get married ever." And 
l had a lar experience. But instead 
of going "to watch," I had “to be" For 
someone who lives day to day, the way 
l do, those two marriages weighed on 
me like a stone. I can commit to the fu- 
ture as long as I'm not compelled to. 
Francine gives me ample breathing 
room—more breathing room than the 
German government would have wanted 
in 1939. You know, we spent our first 
two years together not being able to 
talk much with cach other. She spoke no 
English—I no French. All we ever did 
was communicate physically and eat and 
drink. 

PLAYBOY: And how do you manage the 
problems of monogamy and commit 
ment? 

SUTHERLAND: Monogamy and commit- 
ment? How do I handle them? Private- 
Iy—very privately. Very, very privately. 
PLAYBOY: Why did you and Francine de- 
cide to have children? 

SUTHERLAND: Well, from the very begin- 
ning, Francine wanted children. When 
she entered into the relationship, she 
said, "Listen, onc thing you get to give 
me out of this is a child." I said, "OK." 
X mean, we were in love. It was hard 
to go about doing it. She had to have 
all kinds of things done. You know, her 
body was not ready—there was some 
kind of blockage of the Fallopian tubes. 
But as soon as that got corrected, she got 
pregnant in about three hours. Roeg, he 
was a pure child of love. 

I was present at both of our sons’ 
births and participated in them. It's 
very exciting and exhilarating to give 
birth to a baby. Our second son, Rossif, 
was born with his umbilical cord 
wrapped three times around his head. 
When I saw this, I nearly died. When 
he came out, his face was purple. And 
that affects you. Whenever he cuts him- 
self or bruises himself, I get shocked. 
PLAYBOY: Have you been a parent to 
the twins you had with Shirley? 
SUTHERLAND: They're with Shirley, of 
course. I was a good parent to them 
when I was allowed to be alone with 
them. But it was never like it is now 
with me and Francine. I mean, we share 
everything, me and Francine. We shift 
and change roles. I do everything from 
warm the bottles to feed to change the 
diapers. She does more than I. But we 


do interchange. 1 wouldn't want to im- 
ply that we have a role reversal. I'm 
not doing what John Lennon did. That 
wouldn't be within my nature. But the 
twins, well, Shirley and my relationship 
was such that we couldn't participate 
mutually. You know, 1 just got a lousy 
letter from one of the twins. She's 14, 
and H-year-olds are just crazy. You can't. 
really hold anything they say at 14 
against them. The best thing to do is 
forget it, forget what you might have 
done if you'd gained custody. 

PLAYBOY: Do the twins resent you? 
SUTHERLAND: I would think so. Particular- 
ly that daughter. 

PLAYBOY: Through all this turmoil, you 
seem like a man who likes—and needs— 
women. 

SUTHERLAND: Oh, gosh. I certainly do. 
The women Ive been involved with 
through my life have really been terrific. 
Basically, I have better relationships 
with women than with men. 

PLAYBOY: Why? 

SUTHERLAND: I get on better with women 
because, basically, I like making love 
with them better than making love with 
men, And I find everything about their 
psyche and their struggle wonderful, ex- 


“When Pm acting, I'm 
kind of a concubine to 
the director. What I have 
to do is satisfy him.” 
— 


hilarating. There are some men Im 
close to—Elliott Gould, Robert Redford, 
Sean Connery. But, on the whole, I feel 
more relaxed with women, more at ease. 
PLAYBOY: You say you like making love 
with women better than with men. Does 
that mean you've been attracted to men? 
SUTHERLAND: You mean sexually? 

PLAYBOY: Yes. 

SUTHERLAND: No. But I do have a 
friend, a makeup guy I really like to 
go dancing with. I do have a wonderful 
time dancing and being with him. But 
it's not sexual. 

PLAYBOY: Freud says that the two things 
that motivate a human being are love 
and work; but we've talked mostly about 
love, about sex. Let's change the sub- 
ject to your work. 

SUTHERLAND: Sometimes the feeling is the 
same, you know. When I'm acting, I'm 
kind of a concubine to the director. I 
mean that, quite seriously. My job is 
to understand the character and give 
the director what he wants. What I 
have to do is satisfy him. Jt is very 
intimate, very sensuous, very loving to 
do that. The director ends up liking 
you because you satisfy him and you 


end up loving him because it is very 
satisfying making someone else happy. 
It's like being a good lover to some- 
one—wonderful. With Nick Roeg, with 
Federico Fellini, with John Schlesinger, 
with Bob Redford, I think I've been a 
very good lover. 

PLAYBOY: Did you always have that atti- 
tude about acting? 

SUTHERLAND: Oh, no. I used to think the 
actor was all-important. The truth is 
that film making is about directors. 
When I made Klute with Alan Pakula, 
there were real problems. I had a spe- 
cific way I wanted the character to be— 
a different way from Alan's. I wanted 
Klute to go to New York with a Pennsyl- 
vania Dutch accent and I wanted him to 
be more shocked by the decadence of the 
place—the shopping-bag ladies, the pov- 
erty, the extreme wealth. Well, all of 
that made for big problems between 
Alan and me. It was, after all, his movie 
and my ideas were outside the context 
of the film. Alan is an interesting man. 
He has a wonderful area on his back— 
from the shoulder blades just up to his 
cortex. 105 very straight and very in- 
teresting to look at. Basically, he didn’t 
like me very much. 

PLAYBOY: Why? 

SUTHERLAND: I don't know. Anyway, he 
behaved as if he didn't like me very 
much. Looking back on it, he was abso- 
lutely within his rights, because I was 
behaving in а self-centered way. I was 
very self-righteous in those days. Now, 
when I think about the way I was, I 
just want to cringe. 

Do you know that Janc and I went 
through a whole period when we 
wouldn't sign autographs for people? 
We thought we didn't want to be cla: 
fied as “movie stars,” that being movie 
stars was elitist and that by signing auto- 
graphs, we were encouraging people to 
feel inferior. I'd get a letter from a fan 
who'd liked Klute and who wanted an 
autograph for his daughter. Then Id 
write this guy a long political letter— 
very personal по form letter—saying 
why J was no better or worse than he and 
that autographs were elitist. I'd sign the 
letter. Then, a few weeks later, I'd get a 
letter back from the same man: “Dear 
Mr. Sutherland—my wife and I would 
like to thank you for your letter. We 
thought it was really bullshit, but we cut 
your signature off for my daughter.” 

Nowadays, I sign autographs with 
great pleasure and happiness. 

PLAYBOY: When did your attitude about 
acting change? 

SUTHERLAND: I began to understand that 
the actor is not important with Nick 
Roeg and Don’t Look Now. That must 
have been 1972. Roeg had sent me the 
script for the movie and then telephoned 
me. On the phone, I “Well, the 
character should do this and that." Roeg 


87 


PLAYBOY 


said, "No, we're not making any changes. 
"The script is going to be what I want it 
to be. Take it or leave it." So I thought. 
to myself, Why not try this? Let's find 
out what it's like to not interfere. That 
conversation changed my life—changed 
my whole attitude about acting. Now 1 
think of myself as the director's play- 
thing. Film acting, basically, is about 
the surrender of will to the director. 
Francine and I named our first son after 
Nick Roeg—that’s how important the 
lesson was. Our second son, Rosif, is 
named after Frédéric Rossif, the direc- 
tor of To Die in Madrid. Francine lived 
with him for many years and he is a 
great friend. 

PLAYBOY: Don't Look Now is a memora- 
ble movie. What was it like to shoot it? 
SUTHERLAND: I love that movie. Among 
all my 40 or so pictures, it ranks high as 
a personal favorite. But making it was 
perilous. We filmed in Venice; and when 
I had nearly died from spinal meningi- 
tis in Yugoslavia, they flew me to Venice. 
So, when I returned to do Don't Look 
Now, 1 had this premonition that I was 
definitely going to die in Venice. 
PLAYBOY: Which is what the movie is 
about—a man who has visions of his own 
death. 

SUTHERLAND: And that’s what I was hav- 
ing every minute I was there. A lot of my 
own life was paralleling the movie. I 
mean, I was death-obsessed. As a kid, I 
could tell you everything there was 
about dying. About how long it took 
Ethel Rosenberg to die in the electric 
chair, about how a man looks after he is 
hanged, about what happens in death by 
drowning. Me, I've always been con- 
vinced that I was going to die by drown- 
ing—and there I was in Venice, with 
water everywhere. 

PLAYBOY: This is beginning to sound like 
"Thomas Mann's Death in Venice. 
SUTHERLAND: It was! For one thing, I had 
vertigo, and the movie required that I 
do things like go to the top of a scaffold- 
ing in a church, way up, be hit by a 
board and dangle there in the air, hang- 
ing from a rope. 

PLAYBOY: Don't film companies hire stunt 
men for tasks like that? 

SUTHERLAND: They couldn't get a stunt 
man to do it. The Italian stunt man 
who'd been hired wasn't given the prop- 
er insurance. He went up on the ladder 
and halfway up, he came down and said, 
“I'm mot doing itl" So I'm standing 
there, and I’ve got vertigo, but I have no 
choice. The production didn't have the 
money to hire another church for an- 
other day. So I go up there to have some 
guy throw a wooden board on me. I'm 
saying, "Fuck it—this film has to hap- 
pen." I tie myself up on a rig, climb up 
50 fcet, and I know if I turn a bit too 
much in the wrong direction, the wire 
that's holding me will break and I'll be 
dead. Suddenly, for the first time in my 


life, I have no vertigo. I'm 50 feet above 
the floor. I had never done that before. 
I made Nick promise me that when I 
had swung, I would just go over and land 
on a platform he'd rigged. He had a 
camera there. Well, I did that, but he 
got so excited that he pushed me off the 
platform—and there I was, dangling in 
the air again. The next day, Julie 
Christie and 1 had to shoot the love 
scene. 

PLAYBOY: That love scene? The steam- 
iest, sexiest love scene in modern cine- 
ma? Was it embarrassing for the old 
Calvinist in you? 

SUTHERLAND: Well, what do you think? 
You're in a room for cight hours. In bed. 
Naked. Two guys with noisy cameras are 
there and they're photographing your 
bun, your cock, your mouth, your nose, 
your everything. Yes, it makes for a little 
self-consciousness. Julie and I had an 
agreement that any footage that exposed 
either of our sexual organs would be 
given to us, so that we could burn the 
negatives. 

PLAYBOY: Why? 

SUTHERLAND: Because I don't think that's 


——— 
"T was death-obsessed. As 
a kid, I could tell you 
about how long it took 
Ethel Rosenberg to die in 
the electric chair, howa 
man looks after he is 
hanged." 


what being an actor is about. If 1 wanted 
to do that, I'd just go make blue movies. 
I draw the line on a certain kind of 
explicitness—I'd rather people used 
their imaginations a little. The sex scene 
was important to the film because it was 
a way those two people could express 
their love and their need for each other. 
But I do draw the line. I remember 
watching Bobby De Niro and Gerard 
Depardieu in 1900, in the scene where 
they both take this woman to bed. They 
were nude, Well, it seemed to me that 
there was a terrible vulnerability and 
self-consciousness that was inherent in 
the situation. It seemed a little . . . be- 
yond the pale. And there are so many 
social taboos in male nudity, and the 
male sexual organ specifically, that I 
don't see any value an audience can get 
from looking at my cock—hard, soft or 
indifferent. 

The reason the sex scene in Don't 
Look Now works is that Roeg cuts away 
all the time and breaks it up. You have 


something else to look at—besides the 
actual sex. I felt very pure about that 
scene. And very self-conscious. And very 
self-protective. Julie and I felt very hon- 
orable in doing it. I was dismayed later 
on, when I heard what happened to that 
scene in the higher echelons of the old 
regime at Paramount—and I was dis- 
mayed at how much despair it caused in 
certain quarters. Julie, I think, was 
punished for that scene by people who 
felt it was improper for her to do. 1 
heard rumors that some people took the 
Jove scene out of context and showed it 
around in private screening rooms. If 
that’s true, I really resent it. Because 
that was a beautiful movie, a beautiful 
scene—and it was hard to do. 

PLAYBOY. Were you and Julie offscreen 
lovers at the time? 

SUTHERLAND: No. I was with Francine 
already. I don't know how that rumor 
got around. 1 have a huge amount of 
respect and affection for her, but no. 
PLAYBOY: After Don’t Look Now, you 
played the Fascist Attila, in Bertolucci's 
1900. It was an ambitious movie but a 
commercial failure in the U. S. What was 
the problem? 

SUTHERLAND: There were many problems 
with the way the film turned out. Berto- 
lucci, basically, was doing an opera 
about Italy. As for Attila—my character 
Attila—he was two-dimensional border- 
ing on one-dimensional. That wasn't 
really my fault. Bernardo and I had dif- 
ferent concepts of the character—and I 
was into doing it his way. This was after 
Nick Roeg. Anyway, 1 came to the part 
wanting to do something out of Wilhelm 
Reich's Mass Psychology of Fascism. 1 
wanted to create a Fascist who started 
out with fanaticism and a true belief 
that he was right. He becomes a bureau- 
«at, not so much out of conviction as 
out of habit. I wanted to create a bu- 
reaucrat who made people think, There 
but for the grace of God go I. Well, 
Bernardo had a completely different 
idea. He wanted an operatic monster. 
Me, I should have known as much as 
soon as I saw the script. 

But I've got to say, we did have some 
nice parties during the making of that 
movie. One night, we rented a hotel and 
we had a wonderful dinner for the 
whole crew, with a bottle of wine for 
everybody. And a band. And a magician. 
And two strippers. At the head of the 
table, there were turkeys and lambs and 
pig and geese all cooked. Oh, God, it 
was wonderful! Actually, the party 
wouldn't have gotten too expensive if we 
hadn't ordered a cream cake for cach 
person. By the time we got to the cake, 
everyone was so drunk and happy that 
someone pushed his cake into the next 
person's face. Then, basically, what you 
had was an Italian custard-pie fight. I 
had to pay for a new ceiling for the 
hotel and a new rug. I had to buy a new 


LAST VEAR, HANDGUNS KILLED 
8 IN GREAT BRITAIN. 
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10,728 IN THE UNITED STATES. 


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. INO’ 
t N.W. ington, D. 
О (202) 638-4723 


STOP HANDGUNS BEFORE THEY STOP YOU. ^ 


PLAYEOY 


90 


saxophone for the band. One of the 
strippers was the only person to criticize 
it. She said she had never seen anything 
so juvenile and stomped off in a rage. 
But, gosh, it was a wonderful party. 
PLAYBOY: Was it because of 1900 that you 
came to be Fel Casanova? 
SUTHERLAND: Well, partly. Actually, we 
had met during the filming of Alex in 
Wonderland. Fellini had a role in that 
movie. But when I was in Parma, mak- 
ing 1900, he came up with a friend and 
we had a wonderful little lunch together. 
That must have been in 1975. I wasn't 
working that particular day, and so 1 
drove him to Milan and as we drove, he 
told me about his plans for the film. 
He said, "Forget everything you've 
thought or heard about Casanova. The 
film I want to make has nothing to do 
with anything сїзє. It is about Italy and 
not remembering the past and about 
political dilemmas.” Mostly, he was talk- 
ing about Casanova's inability as а 
person to remember the past and learn 
by it. Thus, he was constantly repeating 
himself. As soon as he fell in love, the 
past didn't exist. 

PLAYBOY: Alter a childhood in which you 
were thought of as ugly, it must have 
bcen a delight to be offered the chance 
to play one of the great lovers of history. 
SUTHERLAND: It was wonderful, truly won- 
derful. They'd put me in my clothes and 
I'd sit there happily for ten hours, wait- 
ing for Fellini to call me. If he didn't 
want me, that was fine. I was happy as a 
pig in shit. They shaved my head, 
shaved my eyebrows and they gave me 
a new nose and a new chin, and 1 truly 
thought I was beautiful Now people 
come up to me and say how brave I was 
to make myself so ugly. I'm amazed. J 
thought J looked wonderful. 

PLAYBOY: Why did the movie take a year 
to make? 

SUTHERLAND: It was supposed to take only 
eight months, but there was a hiatus of 
two or three months in the middle of it. 
The negative of the film was stolen, 
Someone broke into the vaults where it 
was stored and stole raw film, negatives. 
They took some of Sergio Leone's film, 
some of Bertolucci's and some of Fel- 
lini's. They knew what to take. You see, 
you don't edit negatives, you edit prints. 
And, basically, what happened was that 
someone was holding the entire Italian 
film industry to ransom. Whether, in 
fact, anybody did pay for it, I don't 
know. All I know is I went to Aspen and 
skied with Francine and eventually we 
started ag: But, as long as it took, 
some of the times during Casanova were 
quite wonderful. I had a wonderful 
house with a pool and a vineyard that 
produced 2000 bottles of wine a year. 1 
think we drank the 2000 within the first 
six months. The wine could get to the 
kitchen and no farther. 

PLAYBOY: While your European film- 


work was artistically important, it did 
not help put you back into the category 
of a "bankable" star. Didn't it take 
Ordinary People to do that? 

SUTHERLAND: Well, you know, over the 
years I've never stopped working, and to 
me I was never so much building a ca- 
reer as working on things that were 
important to me. It was mor 
to work with greats like Schl 
lini and Bertolucci and Redford. I had 
a lot of bad luck with some of my pic- 
tures. But Га say, yes, Ordinary People 
was a completely wonderful thing to 
have been part of. Redford, he's a 
genius. Every note in that film was right. 
The fact that the movie moved my im- 
age to something more like what I 
wanted made the whole experience even 
better. 

PLAYBOY: Yet you were ambivalent at 
first about doing the movie, weren't you? 
SUTHERLAND: Well, originally, they had 
wanted me for the psychiatrist. I wanted 
to play the father. 1 knew Bob Redford 
would be a terrific director—it would be 
impossible for a man as sensitive as he 
not to be. But it was a weird deal. They 


“Ordinary People’ was a 
completely wonderful 
thing to have been part of. 
Redford, he's a genius. 
Every note in that 
film was right.” 


weren't going to pay me money up 
front—just a percentage of the film. I 
was strapped for money. I was so 
strapped, in fact, that earlier I had re- 
fused a percentage of Animal House in 
exchange for cash up front for my small 
role in that movie. God, what a mistakel 
If I had taken the percentage, I'd now 
be richer than Croesus. Well, who cares? 
It doesn't matter. I live with a huge-debt 
mentality, anyway. There are debts still 
from my marriage to Shirley, debts that 
old. 

So, anyway, the percentage aspect of 
the deal didn’t appeal to me. And when 
the offer came, I happened to be in 
Montreal at an Expos game. Now, 1 
dearly love the Expos. Along with sports 
cars, they are the great passion of my 
life. So my agent had me paged in the 
stadium and said that, yes, indeed, Red- 
ford wanted me for Ordinary People but 
that I had to give him an answer right 
away. I said, “I can't give you an answer 
now. The Expos are losing to Chicago. 
Ill call back after the game.” Well, by 
the seventh inning, the Expos had scored 


four runs and all was right with the 
world. So 1 called California and said, 
"Yeah, I'll do it." 
PLAYBOY: Lucky thing the Expos scored 
those runs. 
SUTHERLAND: Yeah. Lucky thing. 
PLAYBOY: How was Redford to work with 
as a first-time director? 
SUTHERLAND: He was brilliant and beau- 
tiful—and so easy. Usually, when I start 
a film, I'm always awkward with the 
director the first few days. But with Bob, 
the first few days were much easier. He 
surrounds actors with a great deal of 
affection. And I knew things would be 
right from the first rehearsals at Bob's 
house in Chicago. You know, there's 
an e. e. cummings poem that 1 have a 
huge affection for, somewhere i have 
never traveled. Well, I walked into Bob's 
bedroom, and I picked up an anthology 
of cummings’ work, and the book fell 
open to a page Bob had folded over. 
And it was that poem. It was an omen 
for the kind of cooperation and under- 
standing that we had in Ordinary People. 
You know, alter we had shot that last 
scene where Calvin Jarrett tells Beth 
through his tears, “I'm not sure I love 
you anymore,” I felt that the way I had 
done it just wasn't right for the charac- 
ter, for what happened to him next. Bob. 
didn't agree. The film editor didn't 
agree. They thought the take was ter- 
гібс. 1 wanted Calvin to be calmer, less 
hysterical. Well, Bob had enough faith 
in my sense of it to later hire a complete 
studio, reconstruct the set and reshoot 
the scene. By that time, Mary Tyler 
Moore was already in New York, play- 
ing in Whose Life Is It, Anyway?, so we 
reshot the scene with Bob offcamera de- 
livering Mary's lines. And that's what 
Bob went with—that’s what you see in 
the movie. 
PLAYBOY: Does it bother you that every 
other major actor and the director in 
Ordinary People was nominated for an 
Oscar—except for you? 
SUTHERLAND: No. 
PLAYBOY: Corne on. 
SUTHERLAND: It bothers me only in terms 
of Bob Redford. There were people in 
Hollywood who gave him flak for cast- 
ing me. When I wasn't nominated, for 
а second 1 felt a twinge of: Maybe Bob 
will see this as a criticism of his choice. 
PLAYBOY: For a man who says he needs 
to be liked as much as you do, not to 
be nominated must be wounding. 
SUTHERLAND: There were a lot of good 
people who weren't nominated—and 
there were a lot of marvelous actors who 
were. Besides, 1 never thought I'd get 
nominated in the first place. I didn't 
get nominated for Homer Simpson in 
The Day of the Locust, and 1 didn't get 
nominated for Fellini’s Casanova. It 
doesn’t make a big difference to me. It's 
the performance that counts—and how 
the director and the audience feel about 


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PLAYBOY 


92 


my work. Audiences loved that movie, 
and they loved Calvin Jarrett. 

PLAYBOY: What about the critics? They 
were extremely respectful of you in 
Ordinary People. 

SUTHERLAND: True. But they hadn't al- 
ways been. Pauline Kael . . . Pauline 
Kael. Now, she's a very interesting 
writer. Well, Pauline Kael reviews The 
Day of the Locust and she says, "There's 
nothing specifically wrong with Donald 
Sutherland's performance. It’s just 
awful.” That was the most destructive, 
stupid piece of criticism Гуе ever 
received. What do you do with some- 
thing like that? I stopped reading re- 
views after that. 

PLAYBOY: You mentioned earlier passing 
up an opportunity to take a lucrative 
percentage of a movie. Have you ever 
handled money well? 

SUTHERLAND: I'm always broke. I have no 
idea why. It may be a legacy of my 
childhood, but I don't live a very squir- 
rel-like existence. There are enormous 
debts that I ran up when I was with 
Shirley. I'm certainly not poor, but I 
seem to keep only about 15 percent of 
what I make on a picture. Between 
United States taxes, Canadian taxes, 
California taxes, my corporation taxes, 
my attorneys, my accountants, my 
agents—well, I end up with 15 or 16 
percent. I spend a lot of money when 1 
have it. My expenses are astronomically 
high. ing at hotels is expensive. 
There are people in my organization I 
support. A nice bottle of wine costs. 
Francine and I bought a house in Los 
Angeles and we paid $900,000 for it. 
PLAYBOY. Since Ordinary People, have 
you tried to avoid bizarre characters 
in choosing your roles? 

SUTHERLAND: Well, in Threshold, I play 
Dr. Vrain, who's modeled somewhat on 
Dr. Denton Cooley. And, yes, my char- 
acter is a decent, dedicated, brilliant, 
wonderful surgeon. But in my next mov- 
ie, Eye of the Needle, I play a Nazi kill- 
er. So, no, I play each part according to 
the needs of the director. I pick my parts 
because they interest me. There's no 
strategy. Otherwise, 1 wouldn't have cho- 
sen to do Lolita on Broadway last winter. 
PLAYBOY: Why did you take the role in 
Lolita in the first place? 

SUTHERLAND: I was living in a Frank 
Lloyd Wright house in Chicago that 
attacked me and it caused Lolita to 
happen. 

PLAYBOY: You'd better elaborateon that. 
SUTHERLAND: It’s simple, really. Frank 
Lloyd Wright designed the house I was 
temporarily living in while we were 
filming Ordinary People in Chicago. 
From what I understand, he was having 
an affair with the wife of the man he 
was designing the house for. That man 
was very tall. So Wright, who was short 
and vain, designed the house in such a 
way that a tall person couldn't live in 


it without severe cranial damage. I hit 
my head all the time. It drove me crazy. 
Well, one day the phone rang and I 
smashed my head and landed flat on 
my back, dutching the phone. It was 
a young agent saying that, on my behalf, 
he was turning down the Humbert Hum- 
bert role in a new Edward Albee play of 
Lolita, because those were his instruc- 
tions. I was in such а foul mood I was 
looking to get back at anybody, so I 
yelled at the agent not to turn down 
the play. 

PLAYBOY: And in retrospect? 

SUTHERLAND: In retrospect, it would have 
been better if I'd been knocked out cold. 
PLAYBOY: There was a lot of conflict 
reported about that play, which closed 
in one week. Why? 

SUTHERLAND: The fault really was with 
the way the play was written—and also 
produced. Edward Albee is fundamen- 
tally an antiheterosexualist and he had 
the feeling that unless Lolita's mother 
was ugly, people wouldn’t understand 
why Humbert Humbert is attracted to 
Lolita. Which is bullshit. Shirley Stolar, 
who is a wonderful actress, was really 


“The fault with ‘Lolita’ 
really was with the way the 
play was written—and 
also produced. Edward 
Albee is fundamentally 
an anliheterosexualist." 


miscast—and turned into a sight gag. 
I protested that. Anyway, the play closed 
and I had my first vacation in a quarter 
of a centu 
PLAYBOY: So it's been nice to take a break. 
SUTHERLAND: Yes, it was unplanned, un- 
scheduled—and thoroughly delicious. 
Francine hasn't had rne around for such 
a long time in years, and she says she 
likes it. For the past few months, I've 
done nothing except see my family, 
watch the Expos play, sail my boat and 
go for frequent sessions with a PLAYBOY 
interviewer. All of it has been very, very 
pleasant. You know, until we did this, 
until today, I never thought а psychia- 
trist could be used for a thinking proc 
ess. I've discovered a lot of things for 
myself. It isn’t normal, because I don't 
usually open up so much in interviews. 
But this time, partly because of the 
amount of work that's gone into it and 
partly because of the vulnerable phase 
I'm in, it's turned out to be interesting. 
PLAYBOY: Is it strange for a work-obsessed 
person to spend a few months without 
work? 


SUTHERLAND: The basic feeling is good. 
Although my lawyer very ominously told 
me he was going to talk to me about my 
cash flow today. So I don’t know. But 
the vacation is nice. I mean, I love act- 
ing; but there’s something about it that 
is madness. I don't know why that's true, 
but I haven't not acted in a quarter of 
a century, and it has affected me. I can 
now feel layers peeling off, and I like 
the person who's living underneath. 
When you're working as an actor, you 
can't be yourself. A farmer can work 
his land and still be himself while he's 
farming. That’s why I think acting is 
crazy. I need to do it, but it's crazy. It 
isn't normal. 

PLAYBOY: "There goes that word normal 
again. It's important to you, isn't it? 
You said toward the beginning of this 
interview that being ordinary was an 
obsession for you as a child. 

SUTHERLAND: Oh, I don't know for sure. 
Normal? Normal? What does it mean? 
In the Fifties, in Canada, it was very 
important to be a normal kid. But most 
of my life, I've felt a lot like Homer 
Simpson in The Day of the Locust. 
Overbig, innocent, unlovable, out of 
the mainstream, not normal. As a kid, 
what I really was obsessed with was 
executions, with death. Well, now, in 
the past three years, I don't feel like 
Homer Simpson at all. Basically, I 
stopped thinking 1 was going to be 
executed. 

PLAYBOY: Why would anyone execute 
you? For not being normal? 

SUTHERLAND: Maybe. But the fact is that 
three years ago, my life began to fit 
together. Let me backtrack a little to 
when we began this interview a month 
ago. I told you that my life fclt good 
because I was winning all this ap- 
proval—but the truth is that my life 
feels good because I'm getting hold of 
my whole person and containing him. 
My work life, my street life, my family 
life, they've become one full thing. That 
fragmentation that Jane used to talk 
about has disappeared. The other day, 
Fellini told me how relaxed 1 am these 
days. Well, this wholeness leads to a 
kind of self-acceptance. What it comes 
down to is that I'm getting closer and 
closer to someone I'd be content to dic 
with. Do you want to know what the 
most truthlul thing about me is? 
PLAYBOY: Sure. 

SUTHERLAND: It’s this: All I want for my 
life now is that when people read this, 
the baseball strike will be settled and 
the Montreal Expos will be headed 
for the world serics. If that happens, 
everyone can know that I'm peaceful, 
happy and optimistic. If it doesn't. I'll 
be sitting alone on my s 
where, in a state of despa 


e OC A S à 1. 
WHAT SORT OF MAN READS PLAYBOY? 


He's a traveler, and he prizes his vacation time—PLAYBOY readers traveled more than 46 
billion miles in 1980. He can make *'a jug of wine, a loaf of bread and thou" the essence 
of enjoyment even now. He likes the beach beneath his feet and doesn't mind getting 
sand in his shoes. He enjoys unhurried days, unfettered women and unlimited access Ej 
to PLAYBOY, because it keeps him current with the currents of contemporary life. 


the making—and it couldn't have come at a better time. Each side has just 

about exhausted its emotional stockpile, the result of too many years of second- 

guessing and being second-guessed, of the inability to laugh with the opposite sex, of sex 
itself about as tender and spontaneous as a contract negotiation. 

Righteous cause or not, it was just no way to live. But the good part of the years of 

conflict is that we men and women have learned some valuable lessons about ourselves and 

about one another. Some of the differences between us don't seem quite as major as they 


THE 

AGE OF 
SEXUAL 
DETENTE 


f FIER MORE than a decade of warfare between the sexes, there's а new accord in 


used to. And other differences, when you think about them, really aren't so bad after all. 
"The border lines are undefined, so there's bound to be some scattered fighting still. 
And like those World War Two soldiers who hid in the jungle for years, there'll be a few 


holdouts who refuse to believe the battle is over. 


But the signs are unmistakable, and they are everywhere: A new era is at hand. Here's 


what it means to all of us. 


welcome to the 
postliberation 
world 


article 
By LAURENCE SHAMES 


HE ARMISTICE was subtle. 
lt was unofficial and nnan- 


nounced, and you couldn't pin- 
point the day when the truce had been 
effected. It was more a matter of tallying 
up the understated signs. You might 
have noticed first, for instance, that 
women were wearing softer clothes 
again, that a certain downturned se- 
verity had vanished from the corners 
of their mouths and the recent wari- 
ness had departed from their eyes. 
You might also have remarked that an 
unaccustomed number of men were do- 
ing trade with florist shops, emerging 
with their tissuepaper packages held 
aloft, their (continued on page 98) 


musings of a 
not-so-angry 
woman 


article 
By BARBARA GRIZZUTI HARRISON 


of writers, one of whom was inordi- 
ately fond of talking about what 
he liked to call "the 1 


Ez the past summer with a group 


not a chauvinist, and I think Edith 
Wharton is a terrific writer, but. . . ." 
Then would follow a list of grievances 
against women. It was difficult to believe 
that one man could have so many. 

So I got mad at him, and I wrote his 
name on many slips of paper, which 1 
put in desk and dresser drawers—an old 
English remedy, prescribed by Nancy 
Mitford, for those to whom you wish no 
good to come. Then, of course, I felt 
guilty. Because (continued on page 230) 


PLAYBOY 


98 


chins scrupulously shaved, their ties 
tightened a notch. From movie mar- 
quees, you might have inferred that 
the romantic comedy was making a 
comeback and wondered why love was 
again becoming such a popular subject 
and why marriage was again the logical 
ending to so many stories. On the job, 
you might have gathered that a certain 
rite of passage had been accomplished, 
that women no longer seemed so driven 
to prove themselves and that men no 
longer appeared to be sitting back smug- 
ly, waiting for them to fail; the old boys 
and the new girls had become colleagues. 
At parties, dinner clubs and discos, you 
might have chuckled at the revival of a 
quaint and archaic ritual: Men and 
women were dancing again, and not in 
the flailing and isolated style of recent 
times but together, in each other's arms, 
cheek to cheek. 

Thus the evidence accumulated, till 
the glad but guarded conclusion finally 
came clear: The sexes were making 
peace. The struggle that might conveni- 
ently, if imprecisely, be termed the 13 
Years’ War (1968-1981) was winding to 
a close. There were still skirmishes, to 
be sure—cases still pending in court and 
grievances still rankling in human 
hearts—but the overriding spirit of the 
day was amity. 

Men and women were playing the 
time honored diplomatic game of pre- 
tending an accord, then waiting to see if 
a true accord developed. And, sure 
enough, a real understanding—one that 
transcended politics and had nothing 
whatever to do with surrender—seemed 
to be emerging. Its central wisdom was 
the recognition that life is more pleasant 
when men and women try—against 
whatever obstades, in the face of what- 
ever discouragements—to like each other, 
to observe the childhood edict to play 
nice. After a time of taking everything 
too scriously to play at all, the sexes 
were ready to try playing once again. 
With all its implications of hope, sly 
negotiations and the continued jockey- 
ing for advantage, détente was in the air. 

. 

In an era of détente, there is ап ип- 
derstandable tendency to put the recent 
hostilities out of mind, willfully to for- 
get that a year, a month, a day ago, one 
would have liked nothing better than 
to let one's current ally have it right. 
between the eyes. There's nothing to be 
gained, however, by taking a revisionist 
stance and soft-soaping the war. It was а 
war, and if we're to arrive at a useful 
derstanding of the present truce, we 
have to examine what the fighting was 
like—not the issues involved but how 
the conflict felt, what it did to our view 
of ourselves and one another. Lest I 
open myself to rebuke, even at this late 
and peaceable juncture, I won't pre- 


sume to say much about the women's 
view of the fray. But whats it been like 
to bea man these past 13 years or so? 

Let's say it has called for quick re- 
fiexes. In contrast to what most of us 
had been taught about how history 
worked, this was a period in which wom- 
en set the tone and defined the issues, 
while men were put in the unaccus- 
tomed position of having to respond, to 
account for themselves. And responses 
were demanded under extreme duress. 
At this remove of time, we can all be 
rather blasé about the women's move- 
ment—as we can be blasé about the 
atomic bomb and the fact that men 
have walked on the moon; it is good to 
recall, however, that in its early mani: 
festations, the movement was a thing of 
awe and terror. The collective voicing 
of women's rage was something new 
under the sun, and men were as defense- 
less against it as against the Andromeda 
Strain. A colleague of mine still trembles 
in relating his own first brush with the 
female vanguard: 

“It was 1969," he says, “and I was a 
junior at NYU. Id registered for a 
course called Psychology of Women— 
bozo that I was, I thought it would be a 
good way to meet girls and also a help 
in later life. Well, first meeting of the 
dass, I wear my best bell-bottoms and a 
dean shirt, and all the women are wear- 
ing overalls—and not the cute, designer 
kind, either, but the ones that are meant 
for working under cars. Then the pro- 
fessor comes in. She's got a crewcut and 
she opens the festivities by trashing 
Freud. Next thing I know, they're all 
talking about orgasm, and that's when I 
get the news that the clitoris is where 
it’s at, the vagina having about as many 
nerve endings as a Baggie. The message 
was crystal-clear: We don't need you, 
buddy boy. 

Confronted by this tidal wave of fury, 
what was a poor benighted male to do? 
Many. in the early years. at least, took 
refuge in their machismo, traded blow 
for blow and let it be known that Betty 
Friedan could go to hell, for all they 
cared. Needless to say. women scoffed, 
sneered and spat at this attitude, but no 
matter: The men who adopted it were 
secure in the knowledge that, deep down 
inside, these very same females wanted 
nothing more than a roaring good tum- 
ble with a heman such as themselves. 
This conviction, while almost certainly 
mistaken, was solace to millions of men 
in a very difficult period. 

As the Seventies began, however, the 
ranks of the diehards started to thin as 
more and more men, bombarded by ac- 
cusations, inundated by angry slogans, 
assumed the mea culpa stance. If women 
were that furious, the reasoning went, 
we must be the ones to blame. Men 
looked inward and discovered all sorts 


of hateful things about themselves. It’s 
true, their soul-searches told them: We 
don't think little girls are as good at 
math; we do believe that women tend 
to be lousy at parallel parking. Men be- 
came ashamed, and they did penance by 
depriving themselves of those things 
that had traditionally been celebrations 
of maleness. It became profoundly un- 
cool to have muscles, to go fishing, to 
play competitive sports, to read Heming- 
way. It was crass to take the lead in 
seduction, and becoming erect under 
any circumstances was evidence of the 
will to subjugate. A cruel historical 
irony was establishing itself: At the pre- 
moment when women, perhaps for 
the first time since Biblical days, were 
becoming able to have sex without guilt, 
men were moving to the position of hav- 
ing guilt without sex. 

‘Things got worse before they got bet- 
ter. By the middle of the last decade, 
self-loathing was no longer enough: men 
were also supposed to be vulnerable. 
This meant that either you cried all 
over a woman's blouse on the first date 
or you were an insensitive Још. Now, 
the really bizarre thing about this insis- 
tence on vulnerability is that women 
ever could have believed that men were 
invulnerable. What a grotesque misread- 
ing of the evidence! What a total and 
utter failure of empathy! Look at the 
great male icons, Look at Bogart, for 
Chrissake, the toughest of the tough, 
wincing and practically doubling over 
at the tinkle of a melody in Casablanca; 
look at Citizen Kane, the big bad ty- 
coon, blubbering on his deathbed about 
his favorite boyhood toy. Moments like 
this, you might have thought, would 
have served as indications that men 
have feelings, too. But no, things like 
that were too subtle for the Seventies; 
the Seventies demanded grand psychic 
spectacles, public self-immolations. 

And mcn provided them, in spades. 
The day of the wimp was upon us. We 
saw it in the rise of whipped-dog jour- 
nalism, pages dripping with ecsta 
confessions of inadequacy. We heard it 
in the smarmy ballads of Barry Mani- 
low, a guy who wears his vulnerability 
like a dress. We cringed at it in the 
maddening ineffectualness of the hus- 
bands in films such as An Unmarried 
Woman and Ordinary People. 

Something had gone very wrong. The 
punctures that had been made to effect 
a notuncalled-for deflation of the twa- 
ditional male ego had refused to seal, 
and all the joy was leaking out of man- 
hood. The vigor, the feistiness and, not 
least, the humor were oozing away. We 
were becoming a breed of softspoken 
and agreeable nerds. The gusto was 
going, going and just about gone. 

Fortunately, however, men weren't 

(continued on page 205) 


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former top model maud adams joins bruce dern in 
“tattoo; the year’s most controversial skin game 


pictorial essay By BRUCE WILLIAMSON 


Wy fri THE UPCOMING autumn release of Joseph E. Levine's 
۷ Tattoo. movie mavens as well as mere voyeurs will be 
treated to one of those sexual collisions that nearly al- 


ways provoke controversy. Do they or don't they really get it on? 
is the big question. We may never know the answer, for magnifi- 
cent Maud Adams and quixotic Bruce Dern, who costar as the 
film's extravagantly adorned busy bodies, have been flashing dif- 
ferent signals all year about whether or not their lovemaking 
during the intensely crotic climax of Tattoo is the real thing. 
Dern said yes in a woman's (text continued on page 101) 


Chosen over 200 other dream girls to entice Dern in Tattoo (right), 
Adams shows the distinctive style that prompts superproducer Jaseph 
E. Levine to laud her as “the most beautiful, most promising actress 
I have hod the pleasure to present since Sophia Loren in Two Women." 


= 
MAUD ADAMS PHOTOGRAPHED EXCLUSIVELY FOR PLAYBOY BY DENIS PIEL 


101 


Unveiling his handiwork (above), 
Dern's compulsive tattooist personifies 
the film's provocotive poster, which 
proclaims: EVERY GREAT LOVE LEAVES ITS 
MARK. As directar Bab Brooks puts 

“The most horrific aspect of the movie 
is that he does on the outside af the 
body what we ordinarily da on the 
inside—we tattoo each other's heads.“ 


The big tolked-abaut 
love scene in Tatfoo (left) 
ond the intense erotic 
mament just preceding it 
(opposite page) bring a 
dramatic new dimension 
ta you-show-me-yours- 
and-I'll-show-yau-mine. "1 
con't imagine what some 
people will say when 
they see this,” says Dern, 
thaugh Maud insists thot 
their sexy clase encounter 
may appear ta be ciné- 
ma vérité but was mastly 
realistic acting ond . . . 
well, all іп а day's wark. 
We say nice wark if yau 
can get it—and the Mor- 
cl Majority doesn't pick- 
et theater box offices. 


SCENES FROM "TATTOO" PHOTOGRAPHED BY NANCY ELLISON / GAMMA-LIAISON 


magazine interview Jast spring, adding, 
“The film is not X-rated, but what the 
crew saw was X-rated.” Then a slightly 
mismatched pair of interviews in Oui's 
April issue had Bruce promising 
whole fucking relationship from begin- 
ning to middle to end, including a physi- 
cal consummation oncamera,” while 
Maud played it cagey in print—and pri- 
vately began to steam. Such food for 
feuds seldom hurts at the box office, and 
there is an honorable historic tradition 
of speculating about famous love scenes 
that seem to fog the fine line between 
hard breathing and hard-core—Julie 
Christie and Donald Sutherland in Don’t 
Look Now, Sarah Miles and Kris Kristof- 
ferson in The Sailor Who Fell from 
Grace. . . . That's pretty good fast 
company. 


Adams and Dern, however, don't real- 
ly need a trumped-up battle of the sexes 
to sell themselves. He has been one of 
moviedom's top character actors since 
the early Sixties, finally nudging his way 
to superstardom for his hypersensitive 


Says Tattoo cinematographer Arthur 
Ornitz, "She hos something that Garba 
had, that almost mesmerizes the camera, 
but she's a freer spirit than Garbo. 

Mavd's classic beauty becames glorious- 
ly warm when she oils up, then simmers 


down far photo sessions ot a Long Island 
beach house where she is no longer a 
captive as in Totfoo—merely captivating. 
A dedicoted nature lover, Maud finds 
“utter bliss“ in the outdoors. “Thot's 
where | go fo seek peace, strength, a 
new perspective. It's like meditation for 
me. This is o key ta Swedish tempera- 
ment. When yov're brought up in a 
severe climate, yau love warmth. People 
just blassam like flowers in the summer 
sun.” Call her a queen if you want to 
turn Maud aff. But wha wauld want to? 


Working with photographer Denis Piel, says this scrumptious Svensko 

а, “wos more like on octing experience thon simply posing in 
front of о camera. He prepares you for a shot almost оз o director 
would, then seems to be peeking in on you with a feeling of intimocy 
that 1 love." Whether posing or performing, unguordedly nude or 
Tattoo’d, what Moud volves most is totol commitment. “I’m a modern 
woman in that I’ve alwoys looked ofter myself; yet I'm old-fashioned 
when it comes to love. | like to take core of o mon, cook fer him. 
Giving love and being loved bock is the most marvelous thing | know.” 


work in Coming Home and last years unfairly neglected 
Middle Age Crazy. Maud, a Scandinavian cover girl who 
made her first movie (The Christian Licorice Store) in 1971, 
is the former supermodel well remembered for that rainy, 
wringing-wet Lip Quencher TV commercial, though she also 
made a splash opposite Roger Moore's James Bond in The 
Man with the Golden Gun. 

Still, what's a more interesting conversational topic than sex? 
In search of the story behind the movie and Australian-born 
photographer Denis Piels rLAvBov-commissioned exclusive 
shooting of Maud Adams, I decided to Jet the lady have the 
Jast word. So I talked to Dern first. 

Bruce was wearing a plaid shirt and jeans when he showed 
up at my Beverly-Wilshire Hotel suite. Now 45, with a lean, 
hungry look, he's a habitual (continued on page 207) 


ILLUSTRATION BY MILTON GLASER 


the reporter went down to el salvador with the most absurd 
notion—he thought there would be reasons for all the killing 


DEATH 
AS A WAY 


F LIFE 


article 


By CHRISTOPHER DICKEY 


OCTOBER 15, 1979. The general expected 
the call, but when it came, he wasn't 
ready. 

For two years, he had been the presi- 
dent of El Salvador, the last in a 50-year 
line of carefully selected dictators. He 
had been picked by the general who 
preceded him because he was tough, and 
he had set out to show that his reputa- 
tion was justified. His government would 
suffer no dissent from Communists who 
wanted to restructure the society of his 
little country. They would be taken care 
of as they were always taken care of. 
They could leave the country, or they 
could disappear, or they could die. 

But now everything seemed to be 
going wrong. Everywhere the general 
turned, more Communists were spring- 
ing up. They seized factories, govern- 
ment buildings, churches, embassies. In 
the countryside, they somehow managed 
to train 30,000 peasants, workers and 
students. They brought them into the 
city and marched them through the 
streets and nothing scemed to stop them. 
What was the point of having 80,000 
paramilitary men in ORDEN if they let 
that kind of thing happen? 

Three months earlier, Nicaragua had 
fallen to the Communists and every- 
thing pointed to El Salvador as their 
next target. Mother of Jesus, if Somoza 
could fall, anything could happen. 
"Thousands of Somoza's national guards- 
men had been rounded up and thrown 
into jail. Some had escaped to El Salva- 
dor to tell stories of defeat and chaos, 
and the general's soldiers had listened to 
them. Horrified. 

Now his troops were growing restless 


and disillusioned. He could see it. 
There were Communists in their ranks 
and constant reports that they were 
plotting a coup. The troops were saying 
they had never had a voice in picking 
him for the job, but why should they? 
Nonetheless, they resented him. He paid 
them, applauded them, and they hated 
him still. 

In August, the general had called 
several of the most obvious conspirators 
to the Casa Presidencial. Of course, they 
denied everything. Where could he turn? 
Washington was no help. The Yankees 
were always throwing their weight 
around, but they were never there when 
you needed them, Now they were full of 
this human-rights talk. Human rights 
was nothing but Communist propaganda, 
but Mr. Carter up in the White House 

layed right along. The general would 
have no part of it. He refused to take a 
single Yankee gun for his troops rather 
than listen to such nonsense. 

Besides, today there was a more im- 
mediate problem. All morning long, the 
general's aides had been calling the 
cuartels and no one was answering. Now 
there was a phone call for the general 
from one of those colonels—Jaime 
Abdul Gutiérrez—who had denied every- 
thing in August. 

This was too soon. It was the wrong 
time of day. Coups always came at mid- 
night on a weekend in El Salvador, 
and this was a Monday morning. Out- 
side the breeze-blown palace, beyond the 
scar-faced guardsmen with their machetes 
and machine guns under the trees, traf- 
fic was moving normally. The city 
seemed peaceful, more peaceful than 
usual. 

“Senor Presidente,” said the voice, 
“the armed forces of El Salvador have 
decided to remove you from the presi- 
dency of the republic. We have declared 
ourselves in rebellion.” 

е 

Within five hours, General Carlos 
Humberto Romero was on an airplane 
bound for Guatemala. His key ministers 
and his high command were with him. 

Two young colonels, Gutiérrez and 
Adolfo Arnoldo Majano, were now in 
command—vowing economic reforms, 
respect for human rights and the begin- 
ning of a new democracy. 

On the other side of the city, behind 
the reinforced concrete and the bullet- 
proof glass of the American Embassy, 
there was palpable relief. “We weren't 
promoting a coup,” an American policy- 
maker said coyly. "We were just promot- 
ing things that the general's government 


109 


PLAYBOY 


wasn't doing.” 

U.S. officials knew what the young 
officers were up to weeks before they 
finally made their move. And October 
15 was not a moment too soon as far as 
the State Department was concerned. A 
bloodless coup averts а bloody insurrec- 
tion. For once, reform had a chance to 
beat out revolution. The left would be 
co-opted, its banners removed. El Salva- 
dor would not be another Nicaragua. 

Maybe the Salvadorans didn't under- 
stand all the ramifications and maybe 
their culture, their history and society 
gave them no preparation for such a 
move. But now they would learn to do 
things with American guidance. The 
basic principles were easy enough to 
understand. 


. 

Washington, winter 1979. A cold driz- 
zle was freezing on 36th Street in George- 
town, but the air inside F. Scott's bar 
was thick with warm congeniality. Jean- 
Pierre told three stories that night. One 
was about the murdered husband, one 
about the Nazi funeral and one about 
artillery on the mansion’s lawn. Jean- 
Pierre's English was not good and his 
memory may have been tinged by the 
champagne. And probably they were not 
stories he told often, because so few 
people had heard of El Salvador and so 
few cared. 

"Fhis was before the troubles there 
became the war and before the White 
House drew a thick red line around the 
country warning world communism to 
keep out. It was before Ronald Reagan 
was President, before advisors and heli- 
copters and secret slaughter on a mas- 
sive scale. America was watching Iran 
for the hostages to be released, for 
the United States to bomb Tehran in 
vengeance, for something to restore the 
nation's crippled pride. Ted Kennedy 
was on the campaign tail. Carter was in 
the Rose Garden. Reagan was waiting to 
make his move. There had been a brief 
flurry of interest in the Nicaraguan war, 
but now that it was over, Central Ameri- 
ca had slipped back to the clichéed re- 
cesses of America's mind. Picturesque 
peasants, comic-opera dictators, bearded 
revolutionaries. Bananas. 

The occasion was a goodbye dinner for 
one of Jcan-Pierre's friends at a back 
table amid F. Scott's art-deco flash. The 
friend was a reporter, a novice corre- 
spondent about to leave for Central 
America on his first foreign assignment, 
and Jean-Pierre had lived in El Salvador 
h his first wife in the early Sixties. As 
the champagne flowed, he started talking 
about his ex-wife and Los Catorce, the 
Fourteen Families. His wife was one of 
them and he had traveled among them, 
a Frenchman among Francophiles. Rich 


110 Latins seem always to be Francophiles 


or Anglophiles or Italophiles; they want 
so desperately to be Europcan, some- 
thing other than what they are. Even the 
idea of Fourteen Families, a journalist's 
fancy in the Filties, became a cult among 
the Salvadorans. Really, there were per- 
haps 100 families that controlled the 
wealth of the country, but every one of 
them tried to prove it was one of the 
Fourteen. 

They told Jean-Pierre all sorts of 
stories, but there were these three inci- 
dents he could not forget. 

A young woman of the Fourteen mar- 
ried an American. They lived part of the 
year on the family's finca—a sprawling 
estate, a hacienda, a world of its own, 
where the couple were absolute rulers. 
The American developed a taste for 
peasant women. Often he returned to 
his own bed only late at night. 

His wife was proud and beautiful, like 
so many daughters of the Salvadoran 
rich. She knew too well what the gringo 
was doing, and one night, as he returned 
to her side, she ordered him to make 
love. He apologized: He was tired. She 
ordered, He demurred and she pulled a 
revolver from the drawer next to the 
bed and put it to his side and again de- 
manded love. There was none. Of course, 
there couldn't be. And she shot him 
through the liver. It took him three 
months to die. Then his body was 
shipped back to the States with no ques- 
ns asked. None would ever be. 

Jean-Pierre smiled and shook his head. 
“They are that way,” he said. "They 
could always do whatever they wanted. 
It is like another universe." 

lt is a universe that accepts brutality 
and loves the trappings of power. During 
World War Two, its leaders were quietly 
sympathetic to the Nazis, breaking rela- 
tions with Germany only under heavy 
pressure from the United States. After- 
ward, a certain kind of German found 
El Salvador—like the feudal Paraguay 
and Guatemala—a comfortable place to 
settle, 

The final solution held little horror 
for the Salvadoran powers that were. 
Although some of the supposed Fourteen 
were Jews, they understood the need to 
id the country of its dangerous socialist 
refuse. In 1932, some Communists led 
by Farabundo Marti ignited a peasant 
revolt. The military government slaugh- 
tered at least 17,000 peasants—maybe 
30,000; there was no one really interested 
in counting. To the Fourteen, it was a 
satisfactory final solution. 

Jean-Pierre knew all that. Still, he was 
surprised when he saw the honor guard 
in full Nazi regalia escorting a funeral 
cortege in San Salvador more than 15 
years after the fall of Be 

Yet he had grown comfortable in Sal- 
vadoran society. It was full of comfort- 
able people—articulate, well educated, 


self-confident and competent in the man- 
agement of their often vast holdings. 
Even the decadence had a certain appeal. 
It is fascinating to be rich in a country 
where the rich are supremely different 
from everyone else. 

But the dinner party changed all that 
for Jean-Pierre. It made the comfort and 
the difference seem despicable. The 
house was one of the most spectacular 
in San Salvador. Looking back on it, 
Jean-Pierre smiled. It seemed incredible. 
‘The table was set with the finest silver 
and crystal, of course, but what stuck in 
the mind was the floor, made of glass, 
above an aquarium full of exotic fish. 

The families gathered there that n 
would have gone on dining in their ac- 
customed opulence and obliviousness if 
the troops had not arrived. The soldiers 
asked at the door and the owner per- 
mitted them to come around the side of 
the house to set up their light guns on 
the lawn beneath the terrace overlook- 
ing the city. 

‘There was trouble below, a student 
demonstration to be crushed. Cham- 
pagne was brought out to the terrace, 
along with such binoculars as could be 
found, and the ladies in their evening 
dresses and the men with their cigars 
flinched a little and called out “Good 
shot” when the guns went off. 

An artillery captain, informed that 
Jean-Pierre had been in the French arti! 
lery, gallantly offered to let him fire a 
few rounds. 

"I shouted at him,” said Jean-Pierre, 
I couldn't believe it. I went inside. I 
couldn't watch anymore.” 

A few months later, he went home to 
France. 

Almost 20 years afterward, as the 
fledgling correspondent heard the sto- 
ries, they seemed wicked fairy tales. Over 
the next year in El Salvador, he looked 
for the house with the glass floor. Behind 
the high walls and menacing guards of 
the rich, he never found it. But killing, 
guns and that same savage disregard for 
life were everywhere. 

А 

The old Communist was 50, but his 
face was heavily lined. Salvador Cayetano 
Carpio had once been a seminary stu- 
dent, then the leader of the breadmakers’ 
union in San Salvador. He gradually 
rose to be secretary gencral of the Com- 
munist Party. He was arrested and tor- 
tured many times. For a while, hc lived 
in Mexico. There were also trips to 
Havana. 

He talked of “guerra popular prolon 
gada,” a long war leading like Fidel’s 
from the mountains to the cities. He 
called himself Marcial. Years later, left- 
wing Latin journalists would call him 
the Ho Chi Minh of the Americas. 

But 1970 was a bad year for Marcial, 

(continued on page 172) 


“Tonight I'm looking for a good guy.” 


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HARVARD 


GETS DOWN TO BUSINESS 


now everyone can get into harvard 


humor By ANDREW FEINBERG 


Colleges and wniversilies, beset by 
dizzying increases in operating costs, are 
becoming more businesslike, and. Har- 
vard has even considered founding a 
genelicenginecring company. If this 
trend continues, the following could be 
financial highlights from the 1984 an- 
nual report of the profitable conglom- 
erate, HaruUcorp: 

* Our ten-year licensing agreement 
with Murjani International has already 
contributed substantial profits, You have 
doubtless seen our spicy national cam- 
paign for Harvard Jeans, with the catchy 
slogan “Now everyone can get into Har- 
vard—good jeans that need no splicing. 
We are especially tickled with the wor 
of our TV spokescouple, Brooke Shields 
and Henry Kissinger. 

+ The library system, for centuries a 
financial albatross, is finally beginning 
to spread its wings and fly right. Adm. 
sion tickets to the stacks are selling well 
and the higher prices charged during 
exam weeks have met little consumer re- 
sistance. (This policy, of course, extracts 
revenue primarily from "wcenics," who: 
no one likes anyway) Additional in- 
come was realized from the sale of 
3,000,000 rarely used volumes to the 
Scott Paper Company. 

* During the past fiscal year, our leas- 
ing of Harvard Yard to the Minnesota 
Mining and Manufacturing Company 
(3M) proved extremely lucrative. By the 
end of the decade, the firm's stripanining 
will have been completed and the bc- 
loved Yard will be returned, even better 
than new, to all of us who love it. Our 
ЗМ agreement may remind you of the 
controversy over the Exxon drilling plat- 
forms in the Charles Ri Once again, 
we state: Those are not our rigs, they 
belong to Exxon and MIT. 

= Our sports division increased profits 
by 46 percent, helped notably by the 
improved attendance of two of our new- 
est teams, the Boston Red Sox and the 
Boston Celtics. The new Crimson Bet- 
ting Service (CBS) not only has allowed 
students to wager on their favorite teams 
ating with an undesirable 


without assoc 
element but also has been phenome- 
nally profitable for us. 

"he probability unit of the mathemat- 
ic division (once known as a depart- 


ment) has been plucking grapes in the 
same vineyard. Its Blaise Pascal Instant 
Winner Lottery game is thriving. 

- Significant increases in class size have 
resulted in substantial economies. Our 
smallest seminar—The Role of the In 
vidual in Contemporary Culture—now 
has 219 students. We've reduced our pay- 
roll by merging many courses, and this 
operation has been overscen by Chaun- 
cey Boswell, P. T. Barnum Professor of 
Economics, French and Fine Arts. 

* Cafeteria profits jumped 39 percent 
when we introduced the Universal 
Lunch Program. Four days a week, we 
now serve only one entree—cabbage and 
soybean paste, topped with Lipton onion- 
soup mix. On Fridays, of course, the 
protein-rich culinary delight remains la 
viande mystérieuse avec sauce congelée. 
(This Junch experiment is being under- 
written by a $1,000,000 grant from the 
Campbell Soup Company. The firm is 
interested in the long-term effects of dry- 
soup-mix consumption and is particu- 
larly curious about thc nitrite-related 
Facefirst Linoleum Syndrome. Any stu- 
dents who feel uncomfortable after a 
meal—or who might just need a lift— 
are encouraged to buy pharmaceuticals 
from licensed dealers all over campus.) 

+ The film division had an extraordi- 
nary усаг. Our lovely campus was flood- 
ed with bustling film crews at work on 
such future hits as The Paper Chase HI, 
Love Story IV, Preppic Animal House, 
The Henry Gabot Lodge Story and Deb- 
bie Does Harvard. 

+ Although the — Adopta-Harvard- 
Child program started slowly, it is now 
flourishing. Top Radcliffe students are 
handsomely recompensed for delivering 
healthy children (fathered by robust 
Harvard men), and the young are then 
auctioned off to the desperate hordes of 
infertile upper-income couples who as- 
pire to nuclear familyhood. 

* In a precedent-setting swap, we sent 
legal whiz Archibald Cox to Stanford- 
Com (often called "the HarvUcorp of 
the West") for Sidney Hook, $250,000 
and a Nobel Prize winner to be named 
later. Cox's value had barely been kecp- 
ing pace with inflation. 

Now to the true jewels in our eco- 
tiara, the prospering intellectual 
ions of our academic subsidiary, 
Harvard University. 


* Psychology led all operating units 
with a 230 percent gain in profits. The 
division's long-range study of sex roles 
is progressing well at the 16 univer 
owned and -operated massage parlors in 
the Combat Zone. Last year, the division 
began to sell some of the research ani- 
mals so gloriously used by B. F. Skinner. 
Those well-adjusted beasts can fetch 
fine prices and, even though they tend 
not to last very long away from Dr. 
Skinner's exemplary care, they do pos- 
sess a certain cachet while they linger. 

* In a budget-cutting move last April, 
we eliminated the Sociology division, 
which had been gushing red ink like a 
sickly squid. No one, except for a few 
ex-professors, has complained, and even 
the Boston Globe hailed the step as “as- 
tonishing.” Make tacks, Anthropology! 

+ Physics, however, had a wonderful 
year, and revenues were greatly en- 
hanced by the spring sale next to the 
3M dynamite-storage center. Fast-moving 
big-ticket items included quarks and 
antimatter. The unit's Timothy Leary 
Space Laboratory, which is investigating 
how far one can go, has become so popu- 
lar that student volunteers are now pay- 
ing $50 an hour to work in it. 

* Profits in the English division 
zoomed 62 percent, spurred by the new 
Best-Sclicr Writing Seminars. The 
courses teach students to emulate Har- 
vard graduates such as Norman Mailer, 
John Updike, Theodore White and 
Da Halberstam, and the only condi- 
tion is that 15 percent of all future hard- 
cover, softcover and miniseries revenues 
be returned to mother HarvUcorp. 

+ Last year, the Music division finally 
got its act together and went 
ivory towers across the land 
with the sounds of our first 
Classico" releases: Mahler's Das Lied von 
der Erde, with Erich Leinsdorf conduct- 
ing Blondie; Disco Schocnberg; and Van 
Cliburn's Satie Night Fever. 

It has been, in short, a marvelous year 
and the future looks terrific. When it 
comes to new dimensions in education 
1 marketi 
give you the old college try. Our only re- 
gret is that tuition costs, which we had 
hoped to hold steady, will have to rise 
again next year. In deference to you, the 
stockholders, the increase should be 
about 59 percent. 


B 113 


114 


from siraightedges to electric superrazors, 
here's everything you need to know about the 
fine art of shaping and shaving your beard 


The line-up of safety rozors, above, includes (left to 
fight! a broseploted: pelif/shover:for mustoches thar Was 
feotures a tapered heod with two cutting edges (56! 
and 14”), from Hoffritz, Chicago, $16.50; a Swiss-mode 
molochite-handled rozor, from Alfred Dunhill of London, 
Chicago, $375; a 24-kt-gold-electroplated pistol-grip razor 
equipped with a Gillette Trac Il cartridge, by Holston, $40, including 
а 4oz. bottle of Holston cologne (not shown); а Gillette Atra razor head thot 

has been crafted to о flared silver-plated handle, by Reed & Barton, $24.50; and 
one razor from a Bic 5-Pack, obout $1.25. To the left of the razors is a tube of Loger- 
feld Beard Softener/Conditioning Cleanser, by Parfums Logerfeld, $8.50; and above 
them a 6-oz. aerosol can of YSL Pour Homme Extra Rich Shave Foam, by Yves 
Soint Laurent Porfums, $6. Above center: Germon-mode stroight-edge rozor Q 
with a double hollow-ground blode, from Hoffritz, $43; and a bodger- (С 


bristle shaving brush, from Alfred Dunhill of London, about $95. 


M 


A 


article By) HENRY POSTEE daily 


ritual of tending to a beard provides a visible 
and constant reaffirmation of a man's sex, a con- 
stant projection of his male image. And, as such, 
the shaving of the beard deserves the very best. 
Wet shaving is the method chosen by 75 percent 
of American men, while 25 percent prefer to use 
an electric razor. Dermatologists have no medical 
proof that one type of (continued on page 200) 


e The Take A Look travel mirror (top center) opens like с 
book for regulor and magnified viewing, by Clairol, 
about $30. Next to it is a covered ceromic shaving mug 
and boarbristle brush, by Halston, $50. Continuing clock- 
wise: A bottle of Gentleman Moisturizing After Shave Balm, 
by Parfums Givenchy, $13; it stands next to c flask of Rolph 
Lauren Chaps Soothing After Shave Balm, by Warner Western 
Fragrances, $7.50. Beard-and-mustache comb of horn, from Al- 
fred Dunhill of London, $32.50; and a 6-oz. bottle of Pre- 
Electric Lotion, by Aramis, $6.50. The stainless-steel and chrome 
Model SM-600ST electric shaver is smaller than a cigarette pock 

but still features a full-power motor, by Mitsubishi Electric, $90, including а 
leather kit that contains a chrome-plated mirror and a brush for cleoning the 
shover blades. Last, that man-sized electric razor with the stubble grip is an Eltron 
990 that comes with a detachable cord and a sideburn and mustache clipper, $95. 


ILLUSTRATION BY OAN QUARNSTROM. 


115 


jE BUMPED INTO Kelly Tough 
for the first time in the kitch- 
en at Playboy Mansion West. 


She'd stopped by for an orange juice 
alter a daily rehearsal /workout with The 
Playmates, the Playboy singing group. 
Kelly's hair was tied back, perspiration 
delicately matting the finer tendrils to 
her temples. At that peak hour of 
twilight, her surname seemed most in- 
appropriate. 

Later Kelly explained, in her charac- 
teristic don't-mess-with-the-kid style (yes, 
she's a toughie, even a brat, she says), 
that the name Tough originated among 
Norsemen who invaded Scotland. Her 
particular clan came to rest in Van- 
couver, British Columbia, where Kelly 
grew up a few streets away from her high 
school chum Dorothy Stratten—who, in 
fact, helped convince Kelly she was Play- 
mate material. 

"The Toughs found the going tough in 
Vancouver. "We were so poor,” Kelly 
told us, “that I was allowed to wash my 


hair only once a weck. We couldn't 
afford the hot water.” 

Kelly remembers talking to her rabbits 
in the back yard at the age of ten, telling 
them, "One day I'm going to win a beau- 
ty contest and the reporters are gonna 
ask me, ‘Is there anything you want to 
say to your friends back home?” And I'll 
say, ‘I told you I could do it.” Well, 
her rabbits, who must have been all cars, 
told some other rabbits and. ... 

As you can see, Kelly's doing better 
now; she assures us her state of undress 
doesn't mean she doesn't own any 
clothes. She has been living in California 


Below, Kelly rehearses with (from 
left) musical director Vic Caesar and 
Playmates Heidi Sorenson, Michele 
Drake and Sondra Theodore. “The 
Playmates already sing well as a 
group,” says Kelly, “but now we're 
polishing up our individual perform- 
ances. I have a very big, low voice.” 


TQUIGHIING IT 


she’s beautiful, she’s sensitive and sometimes 
kelly tough even lives up to her name 


PHOTOGRAPHY BY MARIO CASILLI 


“Гис grown up ina liberal age and 1 agree with its changes. Women should 
have the opportunity to say, “This is how I am? I want an equal 
118 relationship, with no double standard. Equal power, equal compromises.” 


"In still too young to get involved. 
I don't think Гое ever been in 

love. I’ve loved people, but not 

love love. I’m not ready for it yet 

and I’m not going to be ready 

until I get my carcer going.” 


for more than a year, and her present 
coolheaded manner hardly jibes with her 
description of herself as nervous ingénue 
arriving at Mansion West for the first 
time: “I remember driving through the 
gates—I sat in front. I'd never been in a 
limousine before, so I'd looked at the 
driver and said, ‘Can I sit in the front 
seat with you?’ I felt so alone.” 

At the Mansion, Kelly found a friend 
in Sondra Theodore, Miss July 1977, who 
provided a shoulder to lean on. Other 
Playmates were helpful, too—which sur- 
prised Kelly. 

"I thought they'd all be sharpening 
their claws, ready to lunge at my throat,” 
she confessed, “but they're not like that. 
They stick together. We've all dealt with 
the same things—like leaving the boy- 
friend back home.” 

That's just what Kelly did when she 
was offered spot in The Playmates sing- 
ing group. It was a snap decision—she'd 
wanted to be a singer all her life. "When 
I was a little girl," she reminisced, “шу 
mom had an antique umbrella handle 


“Doing my centerfold was difficult, 
because I'm pretty shy. But now I'm 
proud of it. I love it. It's a 

work of art. Every time I sec it, 

I ask whoever's with me, ‘Wanna see 
my centerfold?’ Of course, I wouldn't 
take off my clothes and say, ‘See? 
What kind of a girldoyou think Lan 


Sondra,” says Kelly. “I can 
really trust her. She doesn’t 
give me advice. She tells me 
my options. That's the kind 
of person I can relate to." 


Kelly spends much of her time 
these days in rehearsal with The 
Playmates. At right, she velaxes 
during a break in the schedule. 
Kelly’s musical tastes ате 
eclectic; she likes everything 
from classical to bluegrass. 


that had belonged to my Auntie 
Pearl. It was etched in gold with 
mother-of-pearl and was shaped just 
like a microphone. I used to turn on 
the radio and sing along into that 
brella handle—it was my mik 
When Playmates musical director 
Vic Caesar first handed Kelly a mike, 
commenting that it might feel awk- 
ward, Kelly puzzled him by reply- 
ing, "It doesn't feel awkward; it 
feels just like Auntie Pearl's um- 
brella handle.” 

Propped up by nerve, ambition 
and Thomas Wolfe's observation 
that you can’t go home again, Kelly 
has adapted to her Los Angeles life- 
style. While many aspects of her 
California life thrill her—the weath- 
er, the parties, the friends—she 
admits to some disillusionment. 

I've been disappointed by a lot 

of people I've met, like TV stars I'd 
seen and thought I'd like to meet. 
Then I'd meet one and think, What 
a jerk." 

Would she care to name names? 

No. 

‘And I miss the outdoors around 

ncouver. When Hef showed me 
the redwoods here, I said, "We've 
got a forest back home that makes 
this one look like twigs’ It's a 20- 
minute drive to the beach, another 
20-minute drive to go skiing. You 
can hike to places where people have 
never even been. I miss it. 1 miss it. 
LA. is a complex and fast place. 
Back home it was all so simple. 

“But I'm directing all my energy 
toward one thing—my singing ca- 
reer. I just remember who I am— 
Tough.” 


PLAYMATE DATA SHEET 


N 5 LAS, 

BUST:_2@ WAIST: HIPS: I _ 

HEIGHT: 2 WEIGHT: 4 SIGN: aJar rees _ 

BIRTH DATE: 42,446,462 BIRTHPLACE: Шиа, BC., CANADA 

IDEAL MAN: ALUE сосу е 9 аллу. [LOST OE AKL £ 

СЉ HO cov MOT OMA V. MOE дё дыл РИ ПИГ EP CAE /Л/ E 

TURN-ONS: Зу [SECS I R cco MELIA, SATA 

DRE AIH POUE X PUTO VO THE GEER OUTDOOR . _ 

TURN-OFFS: ZOE PUT ON Wt , 4AZİMESG ато IEEE. 

EE 

HOBBIES: ZL „жоме бай ‚ NAGLA V RELICS _ 
ine oe n 


FAVORITE MOVIES: AA 
THE Becky HORROR РИСИ Shia), FAUTASIA Žž 
FAVORITE MUSICIANS: Z2 v^ ш SATA LS. rau Y INEL y 

Жуу Fem? > TUE MEBRTBREAKERS, хет EA THE BEATLES 
FAVORITE SPORIS: SKE, FOUR MERLIN, HEKE 


x 


BIGGEST JOY: ; Ра 


COMENT ГАЈ THE CL = f@A2ZLE DOZUE = FuBERTY S THE 
Bann ff mE ? Ay. 
PEE Ires. Mec 2 


PLAYBOY'S PARTY JOKES 


lt seems to me that you'd fill the position nice- 
ly, Miss Taylor,” announced the executive as 
the interview wound down. 
‘And I feel I'd enjoy working here as your 
secretary, Mr. White,” responded the girl, "ex- 
cept for one particular thing." 

“What might that Ье?” 

“Your Christian name is Thomas, Mr. 
White, and mine is Апп... . 
“What do first names have to do with it?” 

"I simply can't see ending every letter you 
dictate to me by typing “TW:at'!” 


Do you remember that night last month. 
Eddie," the baby sitter inquired of her clan- 
destine-visitor boyfriend, "when you wrestled 
off my panties and sprayed me with some of 
Mrs. Beardsley's expensive perfume?" 


“How could 1 ever forget it, honey?" 
"Well ...I'm fragrant!” 


She was unwilling at first.” recounted the 
lewd Air Force chaplain, "but I finally man. 
aged to get in on a whang and a prayer.” 


Our Unabashed Dictionary defines depressed 
nymphomaniac as a glum-ball machine. 


A retiring old sailor named Tripp 
Had a fling upon leaving his ship; 

But he failed to use care 

Ina prostitutes’ lair, 
Which is why Tripp has postnaval drip. 


Gulliver's Unabashed Dictionary defines tiny 
penis as a Lilliputz. 


So what if they do have pictures of you put- 

to a sheep?” the left-wing Western 
ог aide argued. "Especially in this day 
and age, you don't necessarily have to resign.” 

"Чез the ridicule that gets to me,” sighed 
the pol, gingerly picking up the newspaper 
whose banner headline shouted: “sex SCANDAL 
HITS BLEATING-HARD LIBERAL.” 


Popeye and Olive Oyl had had a terrible row 
and, as a result, the former sought solace from 
a prostitute for the first time in many years. 
“But first let's get something straight, girlie,” 
he grunted. “How much are you going to stick 
me for in return for letting me stick you?” 

“Forty bucks," he was told. 

“Well, blow me down!” exclaimed Popeye, 
shocked by the sexual inflation. 

“That'll cost уа an extra twenty, sailor,” 


added the pro. 


We don't hold with the theory that what the 
initials Y.M.C.A. really stand for is Yummy 
Males Cruising Around. 


How well hung was he?” one newsmedia 
groupie asked another. 

"Let me put it this way," was the reply. 
"Have you heard the term editorial wee?" 


She exulted, while touring Nantucket, 
“Tue a cherry, and no one can pluck it!” 
Said her guide, with a smile, 
“I was raised on this isle. 
You've a virginal clam? I could shuck it.” 


P 
ann 


The tickets to the sex clubs orgy were so 
oversold that there was insufficient floor space,” 
a participant subsequently complained, "so it 
was standing-ram only.” 


My boyfriend and I saw a great picture at the 
drive-in the other night,” one girl told anoth- 
er. "It was very emotional and moving. I kept 
getting this lump in my throat all through the 
performance.” 

"It sounds impressive,” commented the 
friend. “Tell me, though, Ruthie, how did 
you find time to watch the movie?” 


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 isselected. Jokes cannot be returned. 


"Well, I'll be damned. I think it's the 
ball I lost this morning!" 


ELL, HE'S GORGEOUS," the blonde woman 
said to her companion, "but don't you 
think he's a thug?" 

The man with her was about 50, his face 
deeply tanned and finefeatured. His haircut made 
him look like a boy in a magazine ad for a military 
school, gone gray. 

He shrugged and lighted a cigarette. 

“They're all sort of the same. If you think he's 
gorgeous, that's good enough for me." 

“Damn it," the woman said. “Whatever happened 
to the carefree college boy we always dreamed of?" 

“I don't want a carefree college boy," the man said. 


“I want a bad guy I can keep in line.” 

The woman glanced over at Pablo and worried the 
lime in her Cuba libre with a candy-striped straw. 
“But don't you think this cat looks a little demented?” 

"Could be he's high on something," the man said, 
without looking over. "That could be bad. On the 
other hand—as long as he can work—it could make 
him easier to handle." 

“Are you sober enough to talk to him? Га like a 
closer look." 

“Sure,” the man said. "Let's run him past.” 

"The woman waved her straw languidly until Cecil, 
the bartender, caught her signal. He walked over 


ILLUSTRATION BY ERALDO CARUGATI 


A FLAG 


pablo had been set up and there was no more to it. he was 


among crazy people, in an empty landscape that smelled of death 


By ROBERT STONE 


author of Dog Soldiers 


PLAYBOY 


132 


to Pablo, who was beginning to fret over 
his beer. 

‘OK, bruddah. Front and center for 
de mon. I tell dem we know each other 
from New Orleans.” 

Pablo sighed behind his Benzedrine- 
He swung off his stool and marched 
confidently toward the table where the 
couple sat. He had been watching them, 
a little greedily. They looked rich and 
heedless, the lady sexy and loose. They 
aroused his appetites. 

“My name is Callahan,” the gray- 
haired man said when Pablo stood be- 
fore him. “This is Mrs. Callahan.” 

"Right pleased to meet you," Pablo 
said. “Pablo Tabor.” 

“Well, we're right pleased to meet 
you, too, Pablo,” Deedee Callahan said. 
“Please have a seat.” 

Pablo sat down. Mrs. Callahan called 
for two more rum and Cokes and an- 
other beer for Pablo, while he and Calla- 
han looked at each other blankly. 

Cecil brought the drinks. He had a 
smile for everyone. 

“Well, the thing is, Pablo,” Callahan 
said, “that the missus and myself have a 
boat and we're looking for a crewman. 
She's a powerboat.” 

Pablo nodded. 

“Do you have seagoing experience?” 

“Well,” Pablo said, “I can steer. I'm 
pretty handy with engines. I can operate 
and maintain any kind of radio equip- 
ment you got. If you got radar, I can 
work with that, too.” 

"You must have been in the Service." 

“Coast Guard," Pablo told him, taking 
the chance. 

"Good for you," Callahan said. "Can 
you navigate?" 

“Guess I could get a fix on a radio 
beacon. I never used a sextant much.” 

Pablo chewed his thumbnail. “Where 
is it you and the lady were going to take 
your boat?” 

"Oh," Callahan said, “up and down 
the coast. Maybe do a little island-hop- 
ping. We'd want you for less than a 
month. You could leave the vessel any 
number of places." 

“Could I ask you about the salary?” 

“Well, 1 usually leave that to my 
number one. But I can tell you it's high- 
er than customary. Because the work is 
hard and we have our standards." 

“That'd be OK with me," Pablo said. 

"I'll tell you what," Callahan said. 
"We have a few things to check out 
before we can give you the OK. If you 
check back here around five—either 
we'll be here or we'll Ісаус а message 
with Cecil.” 

“Jeez,” Pablo said. "I was hoping you 
could tell me one way or the other.” 

Callahan smiled sympathetically. “Sor- 
ry, sailor. No can do.” 

When Pablo was on his way, the Cal- 


lahans drank another round. 

“Jesus, it's depressing.” Mrs. Callahan 
said. “They're all such creeps.” 

“The only question these days,” Cal- 
Jahan said, “is, will they turn on you? 
It's sad, bur that's the way things are.” 

“I think I've just decided,” Mrs. Cal- 
lahan said, glancing toward the bar, 
“that I don't like him." 

"He's a deserter,” Callahan said. 
“Those guys are usually a good bet.” 

“Maybe we're supposed to think he's a 
deserter. Maybe he's a Fed." 

"He's too fucked up to be a Fed. I 
mean, they're just not that good.” 

"Maybe we can get by without him.” 

“I don’t think so," Callahan said. 

‘They sat in silence for a while. 

“It’s your decision," the woman said. 

“I used to like it,” Callahan said, 
“when the baddest thing around these 
parts was me. These days I'm just an- 
other innocent abroad." 

Mrs. Callahan waved the cigarette 
smoke away from their table. 

"Don't get me going," she said. “I'l 
start to cry.” 


E 

"Three blocks from the bar was an 
American-style farmacia with a green 
cross over its doorway. Pablo visited it 
to inveigle some speed from the druggist. 

“What the fuck's the matter?" he de- 
manded, holding up his Stateside pre- 
scription bottle. "I got a scrip for it 
back home." 

The pharmacist ignored the bottle 
and gave Pablo not so much as a shrug. 

“I'm overweight," Pablo said grimly. 
He was not in the least overweight. 
fucking depressed, dig? How about 

When the druggist extended a hand 
to urge Pablo toward the door, Pablo 
prepared to belt him. Only at the last 
minute did he realize that the man’s 
attention was focused on the pink bank 
note he clutched in his left hand. 

The druggist was trying to escort 
Pablo discreetly outside, an urbane effort 
that Pablo’s nature resisted. 

“Tiene que volver a la tarde,” the 
man said softly, trying to speak beneath 
the hearing of his assistants. “¿Más tarde, 
comprende? Ahorita no.” 

By the time they reached the street, 
Pablo was able to understand that he 
was being dealt with. 

“OK,” he said. Glancing at his reflec- 
tion in the drugstore window, Pablo saw 
that if he did mot appcar particularly 
fat and low-spirited, he did look rather 
like a bad-ncws gringo who might short- 
ly be in jail. 

“¿Más tarde, right?" Pablo asked the 
druggist. The professional man turned 
hurriedly inside. 


. 
It was hard to be cool. For one thing, 
the bird calls were driving him bananas; 


they kept sounding like someone making 
fun of him. Pablo reflected that he had 
been strung out in some shitty places 
but that none of them seemed quite so 
shitty as Vizcaya, where even the birds 
in the trees weirded you out. 
е 

Grim and frantic, he waited. The 
druggist came out the door. He had 
taken off his green smock and was wear- 
ing a dark sports coat. He crossed to 
the shady side of the street. 

“Ritalin?” the druggist asked. 

“Uh-uh,” Pablo said. "Gotta be am- 
phetamine, pure and simple." 

“Dexamyl?” 

Pablo nearly snarled with exaspera- 


“Benzedrina,” said the druggist. 

It was the most beautiful Spanish 
word Pablo had ever heard. 

“Benzedrina,” he said. "Fuckin' A." 

"Twenty dollars," the druggist said 
s they walked. 

'Are you kiddin' me? For how many?" 
“For cincuenta. Fifty tablets.” 
“Jesus Christ" Pablo “Shit, 

ОК." He was in no mood to bargain. 
They turned into a narrow dirt street 

bounded on both sides by corrugated- 

iron fencing on which there were a 

great many posters celebrating the party 

in power. The druggist gave Pablo an 
unmarked bottle with the tablets inside. 

Pablo handed over 20. The pharmacist 

quickly turned away and walked back 

toward his drugstore. 

Pablo hoped to Ch he had not 
been taken. Hc opened the bottle. They 
were Benzedrina, all right, little pink 
tablets, 500 migs. 

Hot shit, he thought; he swallowed 
two of them and leaned back in the 
shade of the corner building. 

On his empty stomach, he began to 
get the rush fairly early and it felt like 
the real thing. 

“Thank you, Jesus,” Pablo said. 


. 
When he returned to the Paris Bar at 
five o'clock, the Callahans were nowhere 
in sight. Cecil, still working, paid him 
no attention. He sat down on a stool, 
his eyes fixed on Cecil's round, bland 
face, working himself into a tightlipped 
exaltation of rage. 
‘What the fuck, man?" he demanded 
of Cecil at length. 
“Keep you voice down and you damn 


looking at him. 
“Yeah?” Pablo asked. “No kidding?" 
"In de mornin’, you go to de bus 
terminal and you get de bus to Palmas. 
Palmas, you understandin' me?” 
“I understand you." 
“Dat bus under way at ten in de 
(continued on page 138) 


PLAYBOY'S FALL AND 
WINTER FASHION FORECAST 


forget fads and fuddy-duddyness; looks for the months ahead 
will be diverse and distinctive—coupled with a dash of the unexpected 


attire Ву DAVID PLATT 


THE соор News about summer's drawing to a close is that it's 
also finally bringing down the curtain on any fashion strag- 
glers who are still into high-glitter disco threads, punk cos- 
tumery and ultraconservative styles right from the pulpit of 
the Moral Majority movement. To be well dressed today is, 


Above: A kiss on the hand may be quite Continental, but this 
guy's going for higher stakes in his brushed Shetland-wool blonket- 
plaid jacket with notched lapels and о center vent, $210, worn with 


above all, to exude self-confidence without sc 

ment. The movers and shakers of mensw 

positively to the challenge of increasing male fashion aw: 
ness by producing an immense diversity of fabrics, colors and 
cuts—all designed to appeal to the educated eye. And they're 


wool tweed pleated straight-leg slocks, $104, a worsted wool crew- 
neck sweater with rib trim, $110, and a cotton oxford shirt with 
a buttondown collar, $35, all from Turnbury by Mary Novak. 


PHOTOGRAPHY BY FRANCIS GIACOBETTI 


also not putting all their fashion eggs in onc basket, as they 
often do, emphasizing only a single look or a smattering of 
trends. Instead, manufacturers are giving males a variety of 
good designs, relying on the individual to put the looks to- 
gether correctly. Collectively, our fashion eye has learned to 
expect the unexpected—in part because there are so many 


new looks around worn so well. And here's another tip: Its 
wisest not to mix a single new item of fashion with older, 
alien elements of your wardrobe, as that type of team-up 
usually won't jell. For example, if the gun-metaLblue and 
cream-colored reversible coat by Randy Allen shown in this 
feature were combined with a conservative business suit, the 


Above: Two minds with but a single thought—his pol 
ished-cotion outercoct that reverses to a wool mod- 
el with double-snap-front closure, $350, ribtrimmed 
wool crew-neck, $85, wool long-sleeved shirt with a 
small round collar, $120, and flannel slacks with but- 
ton-through cuffs, $120, all from ATZ by Randy Allen. 


Below: Striped for cction in o wool pinstriped suit, $375, multicolor cotton 
striped shirt with a medium collar, $25, end o cotton knit fie, $15, all by Yves 
Saint Laurent; plus a cowhide belt, by Buxton, $12. Bottom: Black is the color 
of her true loves coat—o cotton/silk polyesterfilled ane, by Daniel Hechter, 
$120; worn over a wool plaid jacket, $200, wool slacks with straight legs, 
$67.50, lomb's-wool/Angora three-button pullover with rib trim, $52.50, and 
а cotton herringbone shirt with a medium collar, $30, all by Jean-Paul Germain, 


whole ensemble definitely wouldn't knit. 
But when the coat is combined—as the de- 
signer envisioned—with a cream-colored 
sweater, shirt and slacks, everything works. 
It's that understanding of what's mixable 
and matchable that makes today's fashion 
scene so interesting—and challenging. 

signers are increasingly putting together 
total looks that integrate but don't overly 
coordinate. The result is a new enthusiasm 
for bolder patterns, more unusual colors 
and textures and unexpected shapes. Take 
a cue from them and try it yourself. 


Right: She's paying more than lip service to 
his choice of threads, which include a multi- 
color wool muted-blonket-plaid ventless jacket 
with notched lapels ond flap pockets, $395, 
worn with Saxony wool flonnel double-pleated 
slacks with adjustable waist tabs, $155, a 
cotton buttondown shirt, $65, ond a satin tie, 
$35, all by Alexander Julian; plus a Shetland- 
wool striped crew-neck, by Alexander Julian 
gle, $95. Below: Love turns winter 
spring—perhaps with a little help from this 
chap's wisely chosen cald-weather wardrobe, 
which includes a multicolor cashmere/wool 


Jacquard twill jacket, $425, corduroy West- 
ern«tyle slacks, $100, and a striped shirt, $50, 
all by Giorgio Armani; plus а wool Shaker 
knit sweater, by Gianfranco Ruffini, about $65. 


Below: Our polished fellow's fashion act includes a polyester/cot- — lined-to-the-knee wool gabardine slacks with straight legs, $135, both 
ton/nylon coat with self-belt and quilted shoulder treatment, by by Nancy Knox; a multicolor plaid flonnel shirt, by Von Heusen, $1 
London Fog, $165; cashmere fisherman’s-knit sweater, $450, plus and a pure alpaca fringed muffler, by Susan Horton, about $48. 


PLAYBOY 


A FLAG FOR SUNRISE 


(continued from page 132) 


“From the dock, the Cloud appeared to be a shrimper. 
Inside she had the appointments of a cutter.” 


mornin’ and you got to be on it, be- 

cause Callahan say so and you best do 

it. Dese people don’ wait on you desires.” 
E 


Palmas was a gas station at the end 
of a dirt street that led past mean wood- 
en shacks to the ocean. Pablo climbed 
off the bus with his gear and walked 
the length of it. He paused at the dock- 
side—there were a few shops and 
bodegas and the office of the captain of 
the port. Tied up at the two piers were 
two dozen local shrimp boats of 90 or 
100 feet, their wheelhouses painted in 
bright tropical colors like the local buses. 
There was no craft in sight that looked 
as though it would be the Callahans’ 
powerboat. He put on his Macklin 
Chain Saw hat, took his sunglasses from 
the pocket of his shirt and looked from 
one quarter of the harbor to the other. 
Nothing but shrimpers. He walked out 
onto the pier, set his bag down and 
leaned against a piling, cursing under 
his breath. 

From behind the tinted-glass wind- 
screen of the Cloud, Callahan and Fred- 
dy Negus watched Pablo on the pier. 

“That's our boy,” Callahan said. 

“Gawd,” Negus said. 

"What's wrong with him?" Callahan 
demanded. Callahan was drinking a rum 
and soda and the sight of it in his hand. 
at so early an hour made Negus uneasy. 
"He showed up, didn't he? He's just a 
deserter, thats all" He saw Negus 
glancing at the drink in his hand and 
put it down beside the Fathometer. "I 
mean, what do you want, for Christ's 
sake? Billy Budd?” 

“You hire these monkeys and then I 
got to keep them in line. I'll tell you, 
Jack, I'm getting plumb wore out.” 

“Hell, Freddy,” Callahan said, “you 
been out in all the weather. An old 
pirate like you." He stepped unsteadily 
over the hatchway and into the galley 
for another drink. 

“Maybe that’s the problem,” Negus 
said. “We're all getting a little old for 
piracy.” He put his baseball cap on and 
went out onto the little bridge beside 
the wheelhouse, squinting into the sun. 

“Hey, you!” he called down to Pablo. 
“Pablo! Come on up here. 

Pablo stepped over the rail. The man 
who had called him was tall and lean, 
tanned, with lazy faded blue eyes. He 
indicated a hatchway behind the wheel- 
house and followed Pablo through 

“I'm looking for the Cloud,” Pablo 


J38 explained. 


“You're standing in her,” the tall man 
said. 

Callahan came forward from the gal- 
ley, a glass in his hand. “Well donc," 
he said. “Right on time.” 

Pablo turned from the tall man's 
steady gaze. 

"Christ, Mr. Callahan. You told me 
you had a powerboat. You didn't say 
nothing about shrimping.” He felt dis- 
appointed and betrayed. It was not at 
all what he had looked forward to. 

"You don't see any sails, do you?" the 
tall man asked him. “This is a power- 
boat." 

"What's happening right now," Cal- 
lahan said, "is that you're being engaged 
as a crewman on the shrimp boat Cloud. 
We're registered out of Marathon, Flor- 
ida. We're licensed to fish in the terri- 
torial waters of the United States, of 
Mexico, Belize, Compostela and Tecan. 
Any other questions will have to wait. 
OK?" 

“What am I working for?” Pablo 
asked bitterly. “A percentage of the 
catch?” 

“That sounds like a question to me,” 
the tall man said. 

Pablo looked at the man again. From 
his accent, Pablo made him out to be a 
white Bahamian. Hope Town, Spanish 
Wells, some sorry-ass town like that. A 
mean redneck. 

"Let me introduce Mr. Negus,” Calla- 
han said. “My number one.” 

Pablo nodded. Negus shifted the plug 
of tobacco in his cheek. 

“And let me hasten to assure you that 
you're not being taken advantage of. 1f 
we were looking for cheap labor, there's 
plenty to come by down here. You'll do 
fine, but you've got to go by our rules." 

“Where you from, son?" Negus asked 
Pablo. 

“Texas.” 

“Lay out your gear for us.” He indi- 
cated Pablo's bag and the deck of the 
passageway in which they stood. For the 
first time, Pablo noticed that the in- 
terior bulkheads were paneled in dark 
wood, the rubber-matted deck was spot- 
less, He opened his bag and spread his 
store of worn work clothes, toiletry bag 
and slickers across it. Negus crouched to 
rifle through it and motioned him up 
against the bulkhead. Pablo leaned for- 
ward on his palms. 

“Sorry,” Callahan said. 

In a few moments, Negus had an 
automatic and a diver's knife out on 
deck. Grimly, he turned out Pablo's 


pockets one by one. 

“What's all that for?" Callahan asked 

mildly. 

“Just for protection.” 

“You can't keep that pistol while 
re aboard,” Callahan told him. “You 

might have an accident. The knife, OK.” 

Negus gave him his Dacor knife. 
“Wear it on your belt where a man can 
see it, sailor.” 

“Welcome aboard,” Callahan said and 
took his drink aft. 

He walked through the galley and 
into a dark comparunent where the for- 
ward ice hold should have been, closing 
a door behind him. Pablo looked from 
the well-stocked bar in the galley to the 
tinted glass fronting the pilothousc. At 
the forward end of the passageway in 
which he stood was a Modar U.H.F. 
transmitter and a C.B. There were A 
and C Іогапѕ and what appeared to be 
a 72milerange radar scanner. The 
wheelhouse had a brand-new recording 
Fathometer. From the dock, the Cloud 
had appeared to be a moderately clean 
100-foot shrimper. Inside she had the 
appointments of a cutter. 

"There were two ice holds, empty and 
with their hatch covers off. Aft of them, 
a hatchway led down to an airless laza- 
ret where there was a single bunk and 
some bales of chafing gear. 

“You can sack out for a while, if you 
like,” Negus told Pablo. “But we're go- 
ing out before sunset and I want every- 
body standing to.” 

“Roger,” Pablo said. 

• 

Pablo leaned idly оп the rail as they 
cleared the harbor. His want of a bath 
was bothering him acutely and he wished 
that he had asked them about it while 
the boat was still hooked up to a dock- 
side water line. If there was a woman 
aboard, he reasoned, the Cloud must 
have a head and shower somewhere. 

No harm in asking, he thought after 
a while, there might be enough wa- 
ter from the evaporators or a fresh-water 
supply somewhere aboard. They seemed 
to have everything else. He went for- 
ward to the wheelhouse and leaned his 
head through the hatch. Negus and 
Callahan were in the bridge chairs. 

“If we got some time now and there's 
water enough, could 1 clean up? 1 ain't 
shaved nor showered for a while.” 

Negus looked from Pablo to Callahan. 

“There's enough,” Callahan said. 
“Right behind the galley. Knock first.” 

He went back to the lazaret to get 
some fresh clothes and his toilet kit and 
then up to the galley. Behind it was the 
door to the dim compartment into which 
Callahan had earlier disappeared with 
his drink. He knocked twice on it. 

“Hello,” called the voice of Mrs. 
Callahan. 


(continucd on page 211) 


“Look at it this way. You're living in the 
golden age of deposed dictators.” 


139 


THE WORLD'S MOST 
DARING SPORTSMEN 


in defying death for 

the sake of amusement, the 
oxford dangerous sports club 
has elevated the cheap 

thrill to an art form 


1N 1933, Н. W. Tilman decided he'd like to check out the beach at Cameroon. 
Only problem w that moment Tilman happened to be at his beach-front 
home in Mombasa, about 3000 miles away. To reach Cameroon's sandy shore 
required the first east-to-west traverse of Africa through the dense, uncharted 
jungles of Uganda and the Congo. Tilman was undeterred. Alone on his 
bicycle, armed only with a machete, he rode off into the sunset, probably 
pausing cach afternoon at four for tea. A little more than two months later, he 


PLAYBOY 


reached his destination. At the age of 
56, with almost 25 years of exploration 
in Africa and the Himalayas behind him, 
the irrepressible old codger then bought 
a boat and, over several expeditions, 
eventually sailed it around the world. 
He even made a trip to the South Pole, 
which he reached just before his 69th 
birthday. 

The decline of the British Empire 
and an increasingly well-charted globe 
have made the Tilmans of this world 
a dying breed. Once, an Oxford educa- 
tion, tweed trousers, two pairs of socks 
and a heavy coat were all a British gen- 
tleman explorer needed to make an all- 
out assault on the summit of Mt. Everest. 
These days it seems to require a s 
figure budget, international sponsorship 
and a small army of Sherpas to get that 
far. Indeed, "the right stuff" as Tom 
Wolfe's test pilots called it, is in distress- 
ingly short supply. Or seems to be, any- 
way, until you cast your eye toward one 
David Kirke and that cradle of the ec- 
centric idle rich, the university town of 
Oxford, England. 

Kirke does not look like an adven- 
turer or a hero of any kind. In fact, seen 
in his army-surplus coat (secured with 
safety pins) after a typical Friday eve- 
ning at a smoky Oxford pub called The 
Bear, he looks as though he might need 
help walking home. With a slight beer 
drinker's paunch, bristling gray-flecked 
beard topped by bulging eyes and re- 
ceding brown curls, he seems the quin- 
tessential upper-class twit gone to seed. 
Which he is. But he also happens to be 
the roguish kingpin of the world's only 
club devoted exclusively to those sports 
and diversions so dangerous, so improb- 
able, so utterly outlandish that no one 
else would even think of them, let alone 
try them. As founder, director, idea man 
and prime mover of the Oxford Danger- 
ous Sports Club, Kirke is out to prove 
that the call of the wild still comes 
through loud and clear. In this age of 
electric socks and inflight entertain- 
ment, he means to demonstrate that 
neither skill nor experience is necded 
to set а hanggliding record, fly an air- 
plane, climb a mountain, scale a live 
volcano or leap from a high-speed train. 
As Kirke carries his celebration of the 
dilettante to manic extremes, his actions 
tend to confirm what his friends cheer- 
fully admit: that he is, by usual stand- 
ards, deranged. 

Even in his upbringing, the 34-year- 
old Ki seems to have been molded as 
a Victorian adventurer. With an educa- 
tion in self-reliance through his early 
years, Kirke proceeded, well prepared, 
to Oxford. He spent three undistin- 
guished years there, as befits a man of 
good taste, leaving with a “gentleman's 
[ in English literature to take up 


142 journalism in London. Whatever the 


initial romance of a profession that in. 
volved watching other people do excit- 
ing things, Kirke found early on that he 
much preferred being watched himself. 
Helped by the fact that no one seemed 
to think he was destined to be a great 
journalist, Kirke packed his bags in 1970 
and returned to Oxford, to that haunt 
of great eccentrics and brilliant cranks. 

There, with Christopher Baker and 
Ed Hulton, two friends who share a bit 
of that wild gleam that lights Kirke's 
eyes, he set about experimenting with ad- 
venture. Where some Oxonians become 
self-taught experts in dead languages or 
Australian wines, he would make him- 
self the world expert on what he calls 
life-questioning sport. 

The first step was to sample the tradi- 
tional dangerous sports. During the 
summer of 1977, with no expertise and 
little equipment, Kirke clambered to the 
top of the Matterhorn. That August, 
without ceremony or training, he and 
Baker launched themselves down the 
Landquart in Switzerland, thus becom- 
ing the greenest of novices ever to sur- 
vive what is probably Europe's most 
treacherous stretch of white water. 

The reckless successes began piling 
up as Kirke, fired by his growing enthu- 
siasm for danger, looked for ever greater 
potential disasters. Later that summer, 
though he lacked a pilot's license, he 
somehow rented a small airplane, which 
he managed to get airborne and return 
safely to earth without ever having flown 
one of the contraptions before. 

The birth of the Oxford Dangerous 
Sports Club, however, was delayed и 
October, when Kirke planned his first 
group activity: champagne brunch for 
six, followed by a jump from Rockall, a 
63-foot sea stack off the coast of Scotland. 
After a climb that was treacherous in 
itself, Kirke's little party looked down 
to where the ebb and flow of crashing 
waves created a cycle of filling and emp- 
tying pools—one instant safely full, the 
next nothing but bare rock for a diver 
to land on. Deciding that discretion was, 
indeed, the better part of valor, several 
would-be members of Kirke's new club 
turned around and risked the climb 
back down. Two people finally jumped, 
and Kirke himself dived headfirst into 
the freezing water, though he had never 
even jumped from a high board before. 
Ali that finally marred this true baptism 
of the club was that the boys already 
knew how to swim. 

"The following summer, for Kirke and 
his club, was devoted to experimenta- 
tion. Having by then tried all tradition- 
al dangerous sports of importance, they 
felt it was time to move on, to invent 
new ones. In addition to the simple 
thrill that novelty provided—and it was 
becoming increasingly hard to thrill 
Kirke—there was an increased clement 


of risk involved. Danger was relatively 
easy to evaluate when one knew what 
had happened before; it assumed mys- 
terious dimensions, however, when the 
odds were unknown. It was about that 
time that the calculations for all the 
group's events—the crucial calculations 
of speed, velocity, impact and so forth 
that determined — survivabi 
turned over to Simon Keeling and Alan 
Weston, two of Kirke's buddies who had 
taken their respective Oxford degrees in 
engineering and computing, and who 
thus could be counted on to produce 
reasonably reliable estimates. However, 
because the dangerous sportsmen were 
not about to let the tedious certitude of 
modern science interfere with the spirit 
of their challenge to nature, they ad- 
hered to a policy of undertaking only 
adventures never before attempted, so 
that there would always be an element 
of uncertainty involved. 

Thus did various bobsled runs in 
France and Switzerland take on new 
dimensions in the summer of 1979, when 
negotiated atop a block of ice fitted with 
a seat. Wheelchairs turned nearly lethal 
as they were moved out of hospital cor- 
ridors and onto steep hillsides for the 
purpose of quick descent. During the 
traditional running of the bulls through 
the narrow Spanish streets of Pamplona, 
Kirke and company substituted skate 
boards for foot speed. And in what was 
planned as the climax of the summer, 
the tuxedo-clad sportsmen were to have 
parachuted into the Longleat animal 
park's lion enclosure, each armed with 
a revolver containing only one bullet. 
The fact that this event never came off 
probably had more to do with lack of 
organization than with lack of nerve. 

Exactly what makes Kirke tread the 
edge of the great abyss with such regu- 
larity is impossible to say for sure. When 
he is not risking a final farewell, h s daily 
schedule borders on the unbearably rou- 
tine—a sort of burlesque of life in Ox- 
ford. Emerging every day about noon 
from his chaotic apartment, where 
books are strewn all over and trophies 
of dangerous ventures litter the shelves, 
he ambles to the center of town in time 
for lunch at The Bear. There, su 
rounded by his cronies, the world's most 
daring sportsman sits eating omelets and 
drinking pints of beer until the sun goes 
down. Then it's off to his club, where he 
can sit in a leather wing chair and read 
the papers with England's finest, warmed 
by frequent doses of good Scotch. 

Now, admittedly, this is not the regi- 
men of either genius or fitness. And, 
deed, Kirke takes unconcealed pride in 
the fact that he is usually at least five 
years the senior of his fellow Dangerous 
Sports Club members and apparently in 

(continued on page 192) 


-— 

southeastern sirens 

4 star in a sequel 
> 


that sparkles with belle, 
book and candor 


ou Самт Go anywhere these days without 
sccing a sequel—the next Star Wars or James 
Bond saga is never more than a swashbuckle 
away, and Raiders of the Lost Ark junkics arc 
demanding another fix for their Indiama Jones. 
The moguls here at rraysoy think a beautiful 
Southern belle has to be more smashing than 
R2-D2, 007 or even the inimitable Indiana any day, 
зо you are now one of the privileged many invited 
to our special screening of Girls of the Southeast- 
ern Conference, Part 11. While looking at these 
ladies, you won’t want an intermission. Just lean 
back and enjoy. The preview's over and the fea- 
ture's just beginning. 
For those who missed our first episode (and 


An LSU Tigress who hoils from 
Lebonon, Suzanne Shaheen (еН) 
hails ” “going crozy' and men who 

M toke core of their bodies." She's 

WES driven а few men crozy with the 


way she takes core of hers. 


PHOTOGRAPHY BY DAVID CHAN AND ARNY FREYTAG 


M3 


Part Spanish, part In- 
dian and part trish, LSU 
sophomore Devin De 
j| Vasquez (left) hopes her 
I J| rasy future brings along 
Мр ashy, quiet man af 
77 mystery to whisper in her 
ear. Devin plans to model a career in fashian. 
Seniar Tricia Doyle (below) prays far days 
of rays so she can sun-bathe. The sharp-eyed 
men of LSU proy her prayers will be heard. 


shame on you), we devoted it to the 
beauties of "Bama, the misses at M 
sippi and Mississippi State, the visions at 
Vanderbilt and the fauna of Florida. 
This month we begin at Baton Rouge's 
Louisiana State University, where the 
ladies are the Tigers, and slosh our 
leisurely way northeast through bayou 
country to tiny Auburn, Alabama, 
where the football faithful seethe at the 
mention of Bear Bryant and his Cri 
son Tide over at Tuscaloosa. From there 
we pass through the smoky hills of Ten- 
nessee to Knoxville, where UT men find 
out early that all UT women aren't Vol- 
unteers (our sexual survey shows Ten- 
nessee girls to be on the conservative 
side). Then we make our way farther 
north to the bluegrass of Lexington, 
where the prevalent S.E.C. football fa- 
naticism (text continued on page 148) 


Two more Tigresses from LSU are Chole Vilas (above), providing New Orleans’ French Quarter a vision with Spanish eyes, and Holly Kelley 
(below), steamingly content in a Baton Rouge spa. Future attorney Chole finds drunks and exams trying but has no objections to good food, 
exotic locales and Tigers of varying stripes. Holly's ambition was to be in PLAYBOY, Now it’s to be in PLavBoy with her identical twin. 


Ws all downhill from here for Tennessee's 

Corolyn Arnold (below). She wonts to fashion 

а coreer in textile science upon sewing up 

her degree, and then ski from October to March. 

Carolyn's into intelligent men with hairy chests. UT's 

Sheri Proffitt (right) wouldn’t mind becoming the first 

womon Supreme Court Chief Justice. It’s Sheri's opinion she could 
overrule all the moles who might want to get into her cham- 
bers. She loves athletics ond athletes, medieval movies, picnics 
the mountains and Vols football, but thinks there ought 

to be a law agoinst the stormy weather in Knoxville. 


UT junior Julia Gillis (below left) took up ballet years ago and hosn't put her heels down since. She moy one day experiment with biologicol 
research. Noture lover Tish O'Connor (below right) says, "I hate it when men soy I'm oll right. All right compared with what?” With 
iust about anything, we'd say. Weight lifter Crystal McToggart (right), a senior ct UT, is a bar belle who holds her own in gym-dandy style. 


Don't tell her corfederates at 
Auburn, but Ohioan Marcia Levy 
(right) is hot for hockey and cold 
for football. It's rumored she tried 
to start a local ice-hockey team, 

but the players all drowned. 
Marcia’s assimiloted now, though. 


gives ground to round-ball rage at the University of Ken- 
tucky. Our campus crusade ends in Athens, Georgia, home 
of the national football champion Bulldogs and of some lady 
Bulldogs you'd be glad to find chasing your car. 

Last month we revealed some of the results of PLAYBOY'S in- 
formal study of the sexual practices and preferences of hun- 
dreds of S.E.C. women. This month we reach the climax, in 
which our respondents tell us their most unusual collegiate 
sex experiences. Our findings needn't be taken as the height 


Aubum offers a stunning set of sunshine girls in Shari Helton (left) 

and Anne Jones (below). Shari, not one to spin her wheels, intends to 
be a hospital administrator as soon as she motors away from Auburn. 
Send Anne a dozen roses and a bottle of champagne—she'll number 
you among her favorite things. Yet another eye-catching sun catcher, 
Anne plans to become a celebrated artist “even before | pass on.” 


Kentucky Wildkitten 
Deanna Rankin 

(right) hopes there's 

a place for her in o 

і high-fashion autfit 
ш % when she leaves Lex- 
ington. She detests finals, but Wildcats 
hope ta interest her in preliminaries. 


of scientific inquiry, but we take com- 
fort in the fact that these revelations 
should end the notion that there’s noth- 
ing interesting to do on a small-town 
Saturday night. 

Todays S.E.C. girls consider them- 
selves more sexually liberated than their 
predecessors of the Seventies. Only 15 
percent of the girls who sent back our 
questionnaire are virgins, and even “com- 
mondaw (text concluded on page 198) 


ing an upbeat to Churchill Downs in 

le, Kentucky’s Sallie Crutcher (above 

left) and Pamela Skaggs (above right) 

оге odds-on to draw eyes and neighs. Sallie 
is a prospective physician, while Pomela's 
bullish on the business world. Another future 
businesswoman is Kentucky junior Julie 
Gayle (right), who's keeping her fires burning 
while she waits for a heatth-worming man. 


Right: With ladies like these 
cheering them on, its no wonder 
Georgia's Bulldogs are the na- 
tional champs. Debra Kittle (left) 
aspires to а thespian career ond 
adores romance above every- 
thing else. Kothy Murphy (right) 
hopes she can break into the 
recard business, vinylly, sa she 
can produce a platinum platter. 


Three high notes to keep Georgia on your mind: Senior Candy Howell (above) will soon be a model/economist. Journalism grad student 
Claire Peterson (below) reports that she wants to be a TV newswoman. (Mony Georgia men report thot they'd like to be Cloirevoyant,) 
Punnie Brittain (right) is turned off by “men who drool, snore or stagger.” So don't go running to Punnie if you're deathly ill or hung over. 


PLAYBOY 


152 


“I said I enjoy riding a ‘big one'—I didn’t 
say anything about surfing." 


short tales from the renaissance 


AGOSTINO was a brave soldier of Parma 
who had lost one eye in the wars, and 
it so happened that he wed the prettiest 
girl of the city. Her name was Giulia. 
When they awoke on the morning 
after their wedding, Agostino sat de- 
jected on the edge of the bed and stared 
into space. 
“Prediletto, my darling, why are you 
suddenly so gloomy?" Giulia asked. 
"Well, it scems that you've made a 
fool of me," said Agostino glumly. "I 
took it for granted that a well-bred girl 
would be a virgin on her wedding night. 
Now I've found out that's not true.” 
Giulia sniffed. “In the first place, 
you didn't ask me. In the second place, 
I didn’t think it was ladylike to bring 
up the subject. And third—well, after 
all, does it make any real difference?” 
“When I took you in marriage, you 
were not whole,” Agostino muttered. 
Giulia tried to be reasonable. "I took 
you in marriage and you are not whole. 
You are missing one eye, aren't you?” 
Grudgingly, Agostino nodded his 
head. "Yes, true. But it was my enemies 
who made me lose 
"So?" said Giulia. "In my case, 
was my friends who made me lose i 
—Ludovico Domenichi (1515-1564) 


When Messer Giuliano Davanzati of 
Florence was posted as ambassador to 
the court of Naples, he became quite 
friendly with King Alfonso. Now, there 
was a persistent rumor that the king 
was having a royal affair with a certain 
Neapolitan noblewoman called Lady 
Lucretia. It seemed likely enough, since 
she was without a doubt one of the 
most superb beauties in all Italy. Her 
form was perfection; her face was classic; 
and the color of her hair made the 
raven's wing look ashy. 

There was no evidence at all to sup- 
port the rumor. The king was never 
seen téte à téte with the lady. He paid 
her no special attention in public. The 
rumor was often denied. And it was 
none of Giuliano's business (as he would 
have admitted), but still he was curious. 
ng spring morning. the king 
ited Giuliano to ride with him and, 
riding along one of the trails they 
met Lucretia with some of her attend- 
ants. She bowed her head to the king 
in a charming but quite formal manner. 
The king greeted her with equal for- 
mality. 

After she had passed, Giuliano said 
musingly, as if half to himself, "Yes, 
indeed, one of the loveliest women I've 
ever seen, It's a shame that she has those 
two ugly blemishes on her body.” 

"What? What?" shouted the king. 
“What blemishes are you talking about?" 

"No personal observation, I assure 
you,” said Giuliano, “just hearsay—but 


[е 


it's often said that she has a large black 
mole on her left buttock and another 
on the inside of her right thigh.” 

"By the head of God, that's a thun- 
ing lie!” Alfonso exclaimed. 
By the head of God, I believe you," 
Giuliano said, smiling. "Actually, 1 was 
just testing out a real rumor.” 
— Niccolo Angeli dal Bucine (1430-1199) 


di 


Marco Vitelli was a very adept painter 
and a very short-tempered man, and he 
was always on the outs with his parish 
priest, whom he considered a madman. 
One day, he was at his easel in his sec- 
ondstory studio, just adding a touch of 
burnt umber to a canvas he had almost 
completed, when Padre Satrielli burst 
into the room. 

"The priest hurried around frantically, 
sprinkling the floors and the walls with 
water. In horror, Marco saw a spray of 
water fall on his newly painted land- 
scape. 

“Idiot! What are you doing?” he 
screamed. 

“Why, just my duty,” said Padre 
Satrielli in a calm voice. “This is Holy 
Saturday. And on Holy Saturday, 1 am 
supposed to visit all the homes in my 
parish and bless them with holy water." 

“Why? Why?” Marco wailed hysteri- 
cally, staring at the spotted picture. 

“Because it is good in the sight of 
the Lord. Remember, God tells us that 
every good deed we perform will be re- 
turned to us a hundredfold from above.” 

“Oh, He does, does He?” said Marco as 
the priest went out the door. It struck 
him as an interesting thought. 

He rushed into the bedroom and 
pulled the chamber pot from under the 
bed. He ran to the open window and 
waited for the good father to emerge 


ILLUSTRATION BY BRAD HOLLANO 


Ribald Classic 


into the street. Then Marco emptied 
the load of piss onto his head. 

“Here is the hundredfold blessing 
from above!” Marco yelled. "Come back 
on the next Holy Saturday and the Lord 
will provide you an even bigger re- 
turn!" —Leonardo da Vinci (1452-1519) 


Father Arlotto, the famous storyteller 
and wit, arrived in Naples in the spring 
of 1448. He had been there only three 
days when Alfonso V of Aragon, king of 
Naples, sent for him. “I have heard much 
of your humor," said the king when 
Arlotto was ushered in, "and so I wished 
to have some conversation with you.” 

‘They walked in the gardens, toured 
the palace and finally sat down to enjoy 
some wine. From time to time, the cour- 
tiers could hear shouts of laughter from 
the king as the priest told some espe- 
cially amusing story. 

In the course of the talk, the king 
said, “I have heard of the renowned 
book you keep, that special black book 
that lists the greatest fools in Europe 
and the most remarkable exploits of stu- 
pidity. Is that rue?” 

Arlotto nodded. 

“Have you found any Neapolitans to 
enter among the select?” The king 
grinned, trying to decide which among 
his subjects had committed the most 
notable bungles or blunders. 

“There is just one,” said the priest. 

“Ah, and whose is that?” 

“Your own, Your Majest 

"So?" cried the king in astonishment. 
“Explain yourself, sir." 

Arlotto pulled out his black book and 
consulted it. "Yes," he said, "I see that 
you recently entrusted your German 
servant Teodorigo with five hundred 
gold ducats and sent him to buy cattle 
for you in Germany." 

“Father, that’s hardly something that 
deserves your list!” exclaimed the king. 
“Teodorigo, though a German by birth, 
has been my most faithful servant for 
twenty years.” 

“Forgive my suspicions, Your Majesty,” 
said the priest. “But he is a man outside 
the Church of Rome; he is returning to 
his native land; and, moreover, one can 
live comfortably for a lifetime in Ger- 
many on five hundred ducats. 

King Alfonso remained silent, his face 
darkened, as he contemplated his mis- 
take. Finally, he looked up and smiled. 
“Father, you may be right. But, then 
again, you may be wrong. What if Tco- 
dorigo does return with the cattle? What 
will you then do with your famous book 
of fools?” 

"Well," said Arlotto, 
your name and write hi 
—Anonymous. From “Motti e facezie 

del Piovano Arlotto,” 1514, retold 

by Carlo Matteo 


"Ill just scratch 


[v 1 


THE DRY MARTINI, bloody mary and 
brethren are alive and well in most of 
their accustomed haunts, but that doesn't 
mean our drinking habits and. fashions 
are fixed in marble. One of the in- 
triguing contemporary manifestations, 
call it a trendlet, is the wine cocktail. 
Just what is a wine cocktail? Pretty 
much what the term implies: a mixed 
drink, cocktail or cooler, on a wine 
rather than a spirit base. Now largely 
the province of avant sippers, wine cock- 
tails may yet prove to be the quaffing 
wave of the future. They certainly com- 
plement the current tilt to moderation 
and flavor, being light, sapid and satis- 
fying—with roughly half the alcohol con- 
tained in standard mixtures. At the very 
least, wine cocktails add a new dime 
sion to the happy hour—expanding 
one's possibilities for pleasure. They're 
also ideal lunchtime libations; you can 
sip several wine cocktails for sociabi 
and still feel up to the mound of work 
that's awaiting you back at the ranch. 
Although wine cocktails today are an 
extension of our enthusiasm for wine, 
they're something of a born-again phe- 
nomenon. Such drinks as the adonis 
(sherry and sweet vermouth) were the 
rage in Paris during that raffsh period 
known as la belle époque. More recently, 
Harrys Bar in Venice has given the 
bellini (spumante and fresh peach juice) 
international renown. But the most pop- 
ular wine concoction on these shores is 
undoubtedly the kir, a simple blend of 
white wine and créme de cassis. Don't 
waste a Corton-Charlemagne or top- 
growth California Chardonnay in a kir. 
Any crisp, dry white wine will do. How- 


154 ever, you should bc fussy about the 


looking for an 


alternative to high-proof 


potables? try a 


concoction made with vino 


THE WINE-COCKTAIL HOUR 


drink By EMANUEL GREENBERG 


liqueur. Make sure it’s of good quality 
and fresh. Crème de cassis declines 
quickly, tending to oxidize and change 
color. If a bottle lingers in your digs, it’s 
advisable to refrigerate it after opening. 

Following are recipes for the kir, with 
variations, and other exemplary wine 
cocktails. 

KIR 

crème de cassis (such as L'Hé- 
ier-Guyot or Ropiteau Frères) 

3 ozs. dry white wine, chilled 

Pour cassis into wineglass. Twist and 
turn glass so cassis coats sides. Add wine; 
stir quickly. 

Communard: Substitute chilled dry 
red wine for the white. 

Rince Cochon: Use only 1 teaspoon 
cassis, just enough to tinge the drink. 


Ve о 


PINK BIRD 


4 ozs. dry white wine, chilled 

1 oz. pineapple juice, chilled 

% or. sweetened lime juice 

4 teaspoon grenadine 

Dash bitters 

1 teaspoon framboise 

Slice peeled kiwi fruit, fresh berry 

Pour wine, pineapple juice, sweetened 
lime juice, grenadine and bitters over 
ice in goblet. Stir well. Pour framboise 
over back of teaspoon to float on drink. 
Garnish with fruit on pick. 


ORLY CARAVELLE 


A sparkling notion from the Orly 
ton's L'Atelier Ba 

1 oz. grapefruit juice 

2 teaspoons Grand Marnier 

З ozs. champagne, chilled 

Shake grapelr 


and Grand 


Marnier with ice. Strain into tulip cham- 
pagne glas. Add champagne; stir 
quickly. 

RED OX 


2 ozs. dry red wine 

Y4 oz. porto 

2 оз. canned beef bouillon, undiluted 

Lemon wedge 

Freshly ground pepper 

Pour wines and bouillon over ice in 
old fashioned glass. Squeeze lemon into 
glass; add rind. Sprinkle with pepper; 
stir well. 


SUTTER CREEK COBBLER 


4 ozs. medium-dry red wine, chilled 

у oz. lemon juice, sweetened to taste 

7Up, chilled, to taste 

Pack large wineglass with finely 
crushed ice. Add wine and sweetened 
lemon juice. Fill with 7Up; stir quickly. 


LEMON ZINGER 


Small scoop lemon sherbet 

3 oss. fruity white wine, chilled 

3 ozs. bitter lemon, chilled 

Lemon slice 

Spoon sherbet into large rocks glass. 
Slowly stir in little wine, then add rest. 
Add bitter 1 Garnish 
with lemon 


SPRITZ CON BITTER 


4 ozs. dry white wine, chilled 

1 oz. Campari 

Club soda, chilled 

Pour wine over ice cubes in high- 
ball glass. Add Campari; stir well. Add 
splash soda; stir quicily. 


HA 


ATLANTIC CITY 


it’s a winning combination: luxurious rooms, great food, games of chance, 
a lavish show and more—all beside the boardwalk and the beach 


You're not in the race car, or the top hat, or even the wheelbarrow (that’s for losers in Las Vegas). You're in a cab. But there’s 
a strange sense of sweeping over a greatly outsized Monopoly board as you turn from Ventnor Avenue toward the Boardwalk. 


You suspect the hotels will be huge red-plastic blocks with triangular roofs. 
The hotel with the Rabbit Head on it isn't quite like that. There is a steel-and-glass glint to it that eclipses the remem- 


brance of cardboard fantasies. So this is not a board-game Boardwalk after all. It’s the new Atlantic City, and the building 


with the Rabbit Head doesn't resemble any hotel you've ever seen before. 
The message you get from looking at it is different from that conveyed by the dated elegance of the Waldorf, say, or by 


Welcome to the international excitement of the Playboy Hotel and Casino, 
Atlantic City. Arriving guests (left) poss beneath the glass-and-steel bridges 
that connect the two buildings of the spectaculor $135,000,000 complex 
ond past Dovid Wynne's sculpture The Two Swimmers (above), modeled 
on Playmate Victoria Cooke and the artist's stepsan, Johnny Wynne. 
The adjacent arched structure below is Atlantic City's Canvention Holl. 


PHOTOGRAPHY BY RICHARD FEGLEY 


Nothing storts the day out more romantically thon a leisurely 
breakfast in bed—served with a flower, of course. Go ahead and 
scatter croissant crumbs, yau devil; you don't have to make the bed. 


Getting into the spirit of things, carefree guests check out the shopping 
arcade with its colorful florist’s cart (above) and pump a few coins into 
one of the casino's 1262 slot machines (below). The casino space in the 
hotel is divided into three levels, each looking out over ocean and Board- 
walk through enormous picture windows (a feature unique to Playboy’s 
casino in Atlantic City, where natural light is the exception in gaming areas). 


the Woolworth’s incandescence of Circus С 
The Playboy Hotel and Casino suggests a different 
game—a style and substance that don’t force them- 


selves—a good time from the moment you pass co. 
The $135,000,000 Playboy Hotel and Casino, at 
Florida Avenue and the Boardwalk in Atlantic 
City, opened this past spring as the scventh and 
most sophisticated of the resort town's hostelries. 
Irs a dominating presence that looks out over the 
ocean, story theater structure connected 
a pair of glass-and-steel sky 
walks. Right next door is the city's 41,000-seat Con- 
vention Hall, Naturally, we think our new property 
is something special, but we're not alone. Reporter 
Edgar Koshatka, sent by The Philadelphia Inquirer 
to check out Atlantic City's Xanadu, wrote that 


Before there were cosinos, Atlantic City boasted both beach and Boardwalk. They are still there, and still enticing. The beach (above left) 
is one of the best on the Eastern Seaboard, and the Boardwalk offers fun, gaming, salt-water taffy, of caurse, souvenirs, snacks, psychic 
readings and unusual forms of transportation such as the streetcar above right and the traditional wicker ralling chair (now motorized). 


` < E 


Atop the 22-story tower of the Playboy Hotel complex are swimming pool and Jacuzzi 
(above), the breath-taking Tahitian Room bar and restaurant (left) and heclth-club fo 

(not shown). The Tahitian Room is a good place to relax with a tall tropical drink, listen 
to a little live music or indulge in a feast of succulent Polynesian, Mandarin, Szechwanese, 
Mongolian or Cantenese specialties; here, too, a delicious Sunday brunch is served. Below, a 


Most popular of the three casino-level lounges is Hef's (above), which features snacks and entertainment as well os Playboy-sized drinks. 
Edgar Koshotko, writing for The Philadelphia Inquirer, proclaimed the drinks at Hef's "better than ot any other casino” and the Bunny 
service “extraordinary.” The other lounges are the Playmote Bar, second level, and Cartaon Corner, third, filled with illustrated laughs. 


The gome af European aristocracy James Bond played it, too), chemin de fer (above), was introduced to Atlantic 
differs fram baccarat in that players campete against ane another, rather than against the house. Perfect for entertaining is the Chicago 
Suite (below left), one of six VIP suites an the 21st flaor, each named far a Playboy Club or Resort city (others: Londan, New York, 
Los Angeles, Osaka, Nassau). At right below, a couple warms to the seductive atmosphere of the Chat Noir, an excellent French restaurant 
named for the first af the famed Montmartre cafés of the 18B0s. Among its habitués were Louis Pasteur, Edgar Degos, Henri de Toulouse- 
Lautrec and Emile Zola. In Atlantic City hang six paintings by Adolphe Willette from the original baite. (Shown here is La Gifle. 


ty by Playboy; it 


Playboy's is "easily the most tasteful of the seven 
local pleasure palaces.” 
. 

First things first. You unpack and take an ele- 
vator down lo the fourth floor, where you find the 
top level of Playboy's three-story casino. 

What you notice first is the light. Really. We 
know you didn’t come here to look at the light; 
you came for the craps, the blackjack, the heavy 
tension at the baccarat table. You may even have 
come for the miles of glowing, money-eyed slot 
machines. But we promise you, the first thing you'll 
notice when you step onto one of the three tiers 
of the casino is the light. You can see for miles 
through vast banks of picture windows. The ocean 
secthes right outside. And you can see the sky: 


As the day gives way to evening (above), guests’ fancies are likely 
fo turn to thoughts of love, logically leoding to the lavish Playboy 
Fantasy show in the Caboret (below), fecturing 36 performers. 


PLAYBOY 


162 


PERAMBULATING THE PROMENADE 
a walk on the boardwalk is seldom a boredwalk 


The Boardwalk is arguably the 
most famous promenade in America. 
Back in 1870, Camden and Atlantic 
Railroad conductor Alexander Board- 
man and Jacob Keim, proprietor of 
the Chester County Hotel, fed up 
with having sand and sea water 
tracked into their passenger cars and 
hotel lobby, petitioned the city coun- 
cil for erection of a wooden walkway 
along the beach front. The council 
duly resolved to construct one, ten 
feet wide and one mile long. The 
rest, as they say, is history, much of 
it, with other minutiae about Atlantic 
City, retold delightfully in words and 
pictures in Vicki Gold Levi and Lee 
Fisenberg's Atlantic City: 125 Years 
of Ocean Madness. Todays Board- 
walk, with its distinctive herringbone 
pattern. designed to keep women's 
high heels from catching in the 
cracks, is just under six and a half 
miles long and 60 feet wide at its 
widest point. It has seen a lot of 
history: the first Easter Parade (1876), 
first Ferristype wheel (1872) and the 
first amusement pier built over water 
(1882), to name a few. 

Today, it’s a wonderful mélange of 
the grande luxe and the tacky. Splen- 
diferous casinos stand cheek to jowl 
with ramshackle stands offering wk 
PRINT ANYTHING T-shirts, salt-water 
tally, pizza by the slice, souvenirs, the 
services of psychic readers and phre- 
nologists, submarine sandwiches. 
“Twas ever, apparently, thus: In 
former days, enormous resort hotels 
such as the Traymore, the Shelburne 
and the Marlborough-Blenheim hob- 
nobbed with hawkers of Kewpie dolls 
and tinted photos. 

An amazing number of entertainers 
got their start on the Boardwalk and 
the piers that once jutted from it 
(some, mostly in parlous state, still 
do). Ed McMahon's old man used to 
run a bingo parlor on the Boardwalk. 
Ed himself entered showbiz there as 
a pitchman. It was the starting point 
for Jack Klugman and Charles Bron- 
son. The young W. C. Fields was 
billed in Atlantic City as "America's 
Greatest Comic Juggler,” and John 
Philip Sousa, Paul Whiteman, Bud 
Abbott and Lou Costello cut their 
performing teeth there as well. Even 
Flo Ziegfeld opened his Follies there 
in 1906 before taking it to Broadway 
the following year. Barbara Stanwyck 
and Carmen McRae were chorus girls 
at the Cafe Beaux Arts and Paradise 
Club, respectively; Dean Martin and 
Jerry Lewis first teamed at the Para- 


dise, where they had been signed to 
work separately. 

Then there were, and are, the 
beauty pageants. Prettiest Waitress 
(1957 entrant: Ali MacGraw), Little 
Miss Atlantic City (1939 winner: 
Phyllis Newman), and, of course, Miss 
America, which has been going on 
since 1921—when it was called the 
Inter-City Beauty Contest. Among 
that competition's celebrated runners- 
up: Joan Blondell, Miss Dallas 192 
Vera Miles, Miss Kansas 1948; Cloris 
Leachman, Miss Chicago 1916; and 
Anita Bryant, Miss Oklahoma 1959. 
Misses America, you'll recall, have 
included Bess Myerson (1945), Lee 
Meriwether (1955) and Phyllis George 
(1971). 

Even before the Boardwalk- 
deed, the reason for Adantic Ci 
development—came the beach. It's a 
super beach, with good surf, and the 
only one in the area still free to the 
public and where swimming is per- 
mitted (elsewhere, it's wading only, 
please). 

You can walk, jog, bike during 
limited hours, take a tram or a 
molorized xolling chair along the 
Boardwalk: you'll want to check out 
some of the six other casinos, five of 
which are located on or near the 
planked path. 

Wandering elsewhere in Atlantic 
City, on avenues that sound weirdly 
r—from the game of Monop- 
oly, invented in 1930 by Charles B. 
Darrow, who named his streets for 
Atlantic City thoroughfares—you'll 
see a number of fast-food palaces 
specializing in submarine sandwiches. 
One of the best known is the White 
House on Arctic Avenue, a shrine of 
quintessential diner decor (and site 
of the phone booth from which Susan 
Sarandon made her call home to 
Canada in Louis Malle's film Atlantic 
City). If your tastes are more high- 
brow, Atlantic City also boasts an 
arts center, a ballet company and, at 
nearby Somers Point, the South Jersey 
Regional "Theater. The concierge at 
Playboys Hotel and Casino cam fill 
you in on details for these and many 
other attractions in and out of the 
city, from churches to charter fishing. 
trips. She also has copies of the menus 
from other restaurants and can guar- 
antee dinner reservations. 

Because you're not, after all, going 
to spend every moment at the hotel. 
Adantic City is probably worth at 
least a week's stay. You'll have some- 
thing different to do every day. 


Daylight, for God's sake. Most casinos 
you've seen are dark, glitzy, enormous 
barns. This is glittering but genuine. A 
place where you can gamble without 
feeling sensory deprivation. This is gam- 
ing without guilt, at a gentlemen's club 
that welcomes ladies. 

You sit down at a table of chemin de 
fer. You've never played it before, but 
you've read about it in James Bond nov- 
els. It's like baccarat, only instead of 
competing against the house, you're up 
against the other players at the table. 
A Bunny is your dealer. She explains, 
quietly and efficiently, the essentials. You 
can't help noticing her graceful hands as 
she glides one card, then another from 
the shuffling shoe. She has blonde hair, 
green eyes and а body that makes it hard 
to concentrate on this game. But you 
force yourself. 

Eventually, you join your lady at a 
rouletie wheel. It's not quite the same as 
the ones you've seen before. "It's a single- 
O wheel, like the ones in Monte Carlo,” 
she whispers. “The pit boss"—she. ges- 
tures toward a dark, handsome man 
in evening garb—"explained it to me. 
He says the odds are better than at the 
double-O wheels—you know, like the 
ones we played in Reno.” 

The odds are better on the ten of 
Playboy's 15 roulette wheels that feature 
single-O play. “We want to give casino 
patrons the best game possible," says 
Rick Howe, Casino Manager. "It's just 
good business.” 

All told, there are 81 blackjack tables, 
20 craps tables, 1262 slot machines, two 
tables of baccarat, one of chemin de fer 
and more than 100 electronic blackjack 
and poker machines on three casino 
levels. 


D 
When it's time for a break, the two of 
you take the escalator down, passing the 
second casino level and heading for the 
first. An atrium joins the three levels, 
and shining in its center is a confection 
of glass and steel, its facets shimmering in 
the light. From above, you hear melody. 
Out of the corner of your eye, you catch 
quick, darting movement. Could that be 
a bird, flitting back and forth in the dia- 

mond-studded branches of that tree? 
"There was a songbird—a wren, we're 
told—that took up residence in Rob 
Fisher's Northern Lights sculpture, three 
stories of suspended stainless steel and 
brass and Plexiglas. Apparently, the bird 
had inadvertently been trapped during 
construction; water from the lavish plant- 
ings surrounding it and crumbs scattered 
by Bunnies kept it alive. Finally, 
(continued on page 202) 


THE FAMOUS WRITERS' 
COOKING SCHOOL 


ч э = > 
ree am dm ы 
ч 5 Se = 
1 __ cu m 
-— "ӘӘ v 
b, د‎ —— 


whaddaya get when you ask a bunch of big-name authors for their favorite 
recipes? well, some are light, some are spicy, some are just plain stewed 


WRITING AND COOKING must have a lot in 
common—otherwise, why would the jar- 
gon be so similar? For example, writers 
always talk about cooking up an idea. 
And once they've done that a few times, 
half of those ideas end up on the back 
burner. Food for thought, we'd say. 
Anyway, maybe that was the connec- 
tion that inspired Dean Faulkner 
Wells—who happens to be William 
Faulkner's niece—to ask a whole bunch 
of big-name writers for their favorite 
personal recipes. Wells has blended the 
results into a cookbook that's as much 
at home in the library as in the kitchen. 
Most of the 


uthors responded. with 


gusto—alter all, tapping out a recipe 
beats slaving over a hot typewriter amy 
day. There was, however, one notable 
abstainer: John Cheever admitted that 
he wasn’t qualified to contribute. “The 
only time I ever go into a kitchen,” 
he wrote, “is when someone is chasing 
me out the back door.” 
„ 

Roy Blount. Jr. is the author of 

About Three Bricks Shy of a Load and 


Crackers. 


GARLIC GRITS 
(Serves Six) 


I got this recipe from Maureen Dees, 


SCULPTURE BY PARVIZ SADIGHIAN 


of Mathews, Alabama, who served me 
and her then-husband, Morris, some of 
it in their house, which once had a cross 
burned outside it. 

% cup milk 

1 tablespoon salt 

1 cup quick-cooking grits 

% cup margarine 

2 eggs, beaten 

24 package garlic cheese, finely diced 

2 to З cups cornflakes, crushed 

% cup melted butter 

Combine in casserole 14 cup boiling 
water, milk, salt, grits, margarine, eggs 
and half the cheese. Stir over low heat 
until cheese melts. Top with cornflakes; 


163 


PLAYBOY 


164 


pour butter over cornflakes. Sprinkle 
with remaining cheese. Cook in 3509 
oven for 45 minutes. 

In between bites, sing stanzas of my 
poem about grits, called A Song to Grits. 


A SONG To GRITS 


When my mind’s unsettled, 
When I don’t feel spruce, 
When my nerves get frazzled, 
When my flesh gets loose— 


What knits 
Me back together's grits. 


Grits with gravy, 

Grits with cheese. 

Grits with bacon, 

Grits with peas. 

Grits with ham, 

Grits with a minimum 
Of two over medium 
Eggs mixed in ‘em: Um! 


Grits, grits, it's 
Grits I sing— 
Grits fits 

In with anything. 


Grits 
Sits 
Right. 


Rich and poor, black and white, 
Lutheran and Campbellite, 
Jews and Southern Jesuits, 

All acknowledge buttered grits. 


Give me two hands, give me my wits, 
Give me 40 pounds of grits. 


True grits, 

More grits, 

Fish, grits and collards. 

Life is good where grits are swallered. 
GRITS! 


William F. Buckley, Ji is the editor 
in chief of National Review, a syndi 
cated columnist and host of the televi- 
sion show Firing Line. Among his works 
are God and Man at Yale, The Governor 
Listeth, Stained Glass and Who's On 
First. 


SUPPLY-SIDE-ECONOMICS FUDGE 


I cooked feverishly during two sum- 
mers, age 14-15, and I made a con- 
siderable sum of money from my 
cooking—somcthing on the order of $14 
or $15 per summer. I produced a most 
delicious fudge, which I sold via an old 
lady's institution in Sharon, Connecticut, 
at 65 cents per pound. My father was so 
unkind as to point out, somewhere along 
the line, that the cconomic model after 
which I had fashioned my enterprise was 
perhaps unreal inasmuch as I used 
exclusively ingredients provided by my 
father's kitchen, 

Anyway (for a double portion): 


14, cups milk 

4 squares Baker's chocolate 

14 pound butter 

2 cups sugar 

Stir until you sce what look like dis- 
crete globlets. Test these by dripping, 
by teaspoon, a drop or two. If they come 
down fragmented, you must leave the 
mixture under boil. If they come down 
whole, you are ready to lift the mess off 
the stove. On no account should you 
pass stage two from inattention, because 
the effect of this is a granular fudge. At 
this moment, you should add a teaspoon- 
ful of salt and two to three teas; 
of vanilla extract. The point of w: 
this long is that you should have not 
allowed the vanilla to evaporate. If you 
are living in the post-industrial revolu- 
tion, you may submit the whole to a 
blender, adding nuts or not, according 
to market demands. The beating should 
continue until the stuff is very nearly 
cool. And only then poured into a plate. 


Harry Crews is the author of A Feast 
of Snakes and Blood and Grits, among 
other works, and was winner of the 
1972 American Academy and Institute of 
Arts and Letters Award. 


SNAKE STEAK 


Take one diamondback rattlesnake. 
(Fifteen feet of garden hose, a little gas- 
oline in a capped jar, a crokersack and 
a long stick will be all you'll need to 
take the snake. On a cold day, 32 degrees 
or colder, find the hole of a gopher—the 
Southerner's name for a land tortoise. 
Run the hose down the hole until it is 
all the way to the bottom. Pour a tea- 
spoon of gasoline into the hose. Cover 
the end of the hose with your mouth 
and blow. Shortly, the rattlesnake will 
wander out of the hole. Put the stick in 
the middle of his body, pick him up and 
drop him in the sack. On the way home, 
don't sling the sack over your shoulder, 
and generally try not to get struck 
through the cloth.) 

Gut and skin the snake. No particular 
skill is needed for either job. Cut off 
the head six inches behind the eyes. Cut 
off the tail 12 inches above the last rat- 
tle. Rip him open along the stomach 
nd take out everything you see. Peel 
m like a banana, using a pair of pliers 
as you would to skin a catfish. Gut the 
snake into one-inch steaks. Soak in vin- 
egar for tcn minutes. Drain and dry. 
Sprinkle with hot sauce, any of the 
brands out of New Iberia, Louisiana. 
Roll in flour and deep fry, being careful 
not to overcook. Salt to taste and serve 
with whatever you ordinarily eat with 
light, delicate meat. 

Figure one snake per guest. Always 
better to have too much th 
when you're eating someth: 


James Dickey won a National Book 
Award in Poetry with Buckdancer's 
Choice, Among his other works are Into 
the Stone, God's Images, The Strength 
of Fields and the novel Deliverance. 


DICKEY'S OFF-TRAIL. 
DEER-LIVER SLUMGULLION 


Chop up deer liver from fresh-killed 
spike buck. Brown with fat in pot on 
open fire. Chop up onions, potatoes and 
anything else edible from your buddy's 
pack. Crumble up dead leaves and 
sprinkle liberally into recipe. Pour in 
two cans of mushroom soup and one of 
beef stew, pretending it is venison. Eat 
between fire and tent. Accompany with 
all available fiery whiskey. 

My outdoor cookery proceeds from 
the premise that the hunter will be 
hungry enough to eat anything and 
drink anything, even the cans themselves 
and the deer's horns. 

Cooking the Dickey offtrail way is 
dead easy. 


Ken Kesey lives in Oregon, where he 
was editor and publisher of Spit in the 
Ocean. He is the author of One Flew 
Over the Cuckoo's Nest, Sometimes а 
Great Notion and Garage Sale. 


HUEVOS WHATEVEROS 


My favorite fare is, of course, fried 
steak—about an inch and a half thick, 
popped right into a screaming-hot skillet 
and set sizzling on the table, still in the 
skillet, so everybody can hack hot bites 
from the meat as it fries. But what I am 
famous for is the mystic rapport I have 
with the remnants of yesterday's meals. 
In fact, I am known in certain under- 
ground gourmet cirdes as the Jackson 
Pollock of Leftovers. 

An example: my Huevos Whateveros. 
Into a deep black frying pan pile the 
remains of last nights Mexican meal— 
refried beans, ruptured enchiladas, for- 
saken chile rell nos, etc. Add enough 
stewed tomatoes to make this stuff a 
little soupy. On top of this bubbling 
burrito bed, open and arrange as many 
fresh eggs as you plan to serve, yolks 
intact. As all this bubbles over a low 
heat, grate some cheese over the top and 
chop in a few green onions. Don't stir. 
Sprinkle with cumin and cayenne as 
taste and courage prescribe. When the 
whites are firming up and the yolks are 
still open-eyed and slippery, slip the skil- 
let briefly beneath the broiler, until 
the eggs white over and the cheese blis- 
ters. Don't let the yolks get hard! 

Serve with tortillas and Dos Equis. 
Tortillas optional. 


Larry L. King is the author of The 
One-Eyed Man, Whores, Politicians, and 
(continued on page 188) 


“We can't go on meeting like this, baby; my neighbors and 
Jour passengers are getting suspicious.” 


165 


ENDE OND сыы. Im... | 


ALP GFORGE V 
KIN, 
NESS 


PHOTOGRAPH A SCENE THAT WHISPERS 
AND WIN SOMETHING TO SHOUT ABOUT 


THE J&B “IT WHISPERS” PHOTO CONTEST 


A good eye could win you 
a trip ~ two to Scotland. 


GRAND PRIZE 


Round trip air fare for two to Scotland, deluxe 
hotel accommodations, meals, sightseeing and 
$2,500 spending money (or $1 

Just capture a scene that you feel “Whispers” and 
send it to us. If our judges think it's the best, we'll give 
you a trip to fill your scrapbook and your memories. 


5 FIRST PRIZES 


A Nikon/Nikkor 
camera outfit 
valued at over 
$3,500. Because 
we think you're 
good enough to 
deserve the best. 


50 SECOND PRIZES 
A Nikon EM 35mm camera worth over $350. 
250 THIRD PRIZES 


‘Two hundred and fifty winners will be awarded a 
handcrafted J& B Serving Bar with 4 crystal glasses. 


1000 FOURTH PRIZES 


One thousand photographers will win a custom- 
made, sixty page J&B leatherette scrapbook — for all 
their moments that whisper. 


WANT TO ENTER? 
Clip the coupon from the bottom of the page or see 


your participating liquor store for an entry blank. 
"Then find the setting, scene or view that you think 


whispers J&B, and send it in. Make certain that you 
follow the rules below. Incomplete entries will be 
invalid. 


OFFICIAL RULES—NO PURCHASE NECESSARY 


1 Toenter. submit black-and-white or color photcgraph (2%" x 24" to 8" 0") cf a scere that 
youtee! “Whispers” Slides and transparencies are not accepted. 

2 Handprint your rame, adress. апаар code on Ihe oficial entry orm ога plain piece of paper. 
Glueortapeittothebackof your photo entry. Do notwrite on photo, includecaraboara backing to 
protect picture ın mail. Include with your entry the answer tothe folowing question: What do the 
initials "8 8" onabotlle ol J&B Rare Scotch standfor ? Your entry will notbe eligible for judging 
unless this question is answered. The information needed to answer this question may be found 
by looking al the label of any bottle of J&B Rare Scotch You may obtain a free label facsimile by 
writing to: J&B Label. PO. Box 2920. Westbury. NY 11591 

3. Enter as often as you wish, Each entry must be mailed separately to: J&B “IT WHISPERS” 
CONTEST, PO. Box 2917. Westbury. NY 11591. Entries must be received by December 31. 1961 
а. Entries will be judged onthe basis ot originality (0 1o 30 points), relevance tothe theme {01040 
points), composition (0 to 20 points). photographic technique (0 to 10 points). Winners vill be 
selected under the supenision ol National Judging Insitute, Inc.. an independent judging 
organization, whose decisions are final on all matters relating to this contest. АП prizes will be 
awarded. and winners nolilied by mail. Prizes are nol transferable or exchangeable. Only ane 
prize to an individual or family. 

5. All entries become the property of The Paddington Corporation with al rights. including the 
Tight to edit. publish and use any photo without further consideration of 
paymentto the contestant No correspondence about entries will beentered 
into. nor will photos be acknowledged or returned. 

6. before receiving a prize, each entrant must warrant his age. that the 
photograph was taken by himself. that he isan amateur photographer. and 
that he has ful rights to the photograph and that it has won no previous 
award or competition. 

7 The contest 15 open to U.S. residents, except employees and their 
families of The Paddington Corporation. its affiliates. advertising and 
sales promotion agencies. liquor wholesalers and retailers. professional 
photographers and Don Jagoda Associates, Inc. Void where prohibited 
All federal, state and local regulations apply. Taxes on prizes. Wany. are 
the responsiblity of the individual winners 

B. Entrants must be of legal drinking age in the state ol their 
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= 


PLAYBO 


A WAY OF LIFE (continued from page 110) 


“There were guns in the streets. The university was 


shut down and Duarte was jailed, beaten. 


» 


and 1971 was worse. In those first two 
years of the decade, El Salvador was 
4 democratic government. 


n Democratic Party was 
building a popular base as a 
ternative to the military regimes 
of the past. The Christian Democratic 
leader, José Napoleon Duarte, had been 
elected to three successive terms as mayor 
of Sa ador. In. 1972, Duarte was 
running for president and his party had 
allied itself with every liberal and leftist 
opposition group in the country. There 
seemed no way the coalition could lose. 
All but the oligarchs and the army were 
behind Duarte, and even they were let- 
ting him r He had to win. 

After he did, the army moved in. The 
elections were voided. There were guns 
in the streets. The university was shut 
down and Duarte was ја 
threatened with execution, forced into 
exile Suddenly, in the eyes of so n 
defeated liber students, priests and 
red, as he 
y. With ne 
gave his group a 
name: the bundo Martí Nations 
Liberation ces. Like all political 
groups in El Salvador, it came to be 
known by itials: thc LLN. 

Within a few months, another group 
was formed as well. Its members were 
looking lor a strategy that was not so 
prolonged, that would fight not just for 
the hills but, right away, for the cities. 
Those guerrillas were younger and bras 
er and their Popular Revolutionary 
Army—the E.R.P.—went in for direct 
fund-raising activities. One after another, 
leading oligarchs and foreign business- 
men wer tched from the streets and 


ransomed for millions of gun-buying 
dollars. 
The soul of the E.R.P, was a student 


He shared 
his closest 
gos and 


poct named Roque Dalton 
leadership with Ernesto Jov 
friend, 
Joaquin Villa 

At first, 


ll were caught up in the 
revolution: ту com- 


But as one, two, three years passed, Dal- 
ton began to have doubts about their 
tactics. He saw his group becoming a 
collection of f 
that for all 


rigorous militarism, it 
had garnered no great popular following. 
For hours on end, he would debate with 
Villalobos and others, who began to sus- 
pect that Dalton’s ideals—and, 


worse, 


172 his ideology—were tainted. 


The end came suddenly for Dalton. 
In 1975, he was given a "people's trial 
and summarily executed 

Jovel and Cienfuegos were furious. 
They broke w and formed their own 
guerrilla 
Dalton's thinking, they believed that or- 
ganization must be the key to insurrec- 
tion. The masses must be mobilized. 

The F.A.R.N. spawned F.A.P.U, The 

F.P.L. created the Bloque. The E.R.P. 
finally created the LP-28. The strength 
of the left instantly started to grow as 
unions and peasant groups were pulled 
together into those new "popular or- 
nizations.” 
By the late Seventies, although guer- 
las continued their kidnapings and 
small-scale assaults on the military, the 
popular organizations were the new van- 
guard. New leaders emerged. They were 
bitter, charismatic young men like Ju 
Chacon of the Bloque, whose peasant 
parents were slaughtered by the security 
forces. Chacón led fights for basic issues 
such as the price of food. People flocked 
to him. 

From dh poster-covered offices in 
obscure corners of the university—i 
back of the law school stage, in a little 
room behind the student-union offices— 
these lords of the streets could. virtually 
paralyze the country at will. And when 
they were arrested or tortured, their 
friends would scize an embassy or call a 
strike and set th free once a; 

Yet they were taken by surprise the 
day General Romero was ousted. The 
ng colonels who were now in com- 


nd announced that they were bring 


roup, the F.A.R.N. Following 


ing all the popular 
intellectual allies, even the 
Communists and socialists, into the 
overnment, 

Should a truce be called? Chacón 
briefly thought so. But to call a truce 


was to abandon the fight for ultimate 
power when it seemed almost ready 
for the taking. 

Then, too. the security forces seemed 
uninterested in the colonels promises. 
They denied having any political p 
oners They said they just couldn't 
seem to find any. And while the gen- 
erals and scores of other officers were 
dismissed, many whom the left believed 
were guilty of countless crimes remained 
n powerful positions. The killing was 
increasing. not subsiding. 

There was no truce. 

. 

The reporter packed up his desk in 
the vast Washington newsroom, sorted 
files, made an occasional phone call, 


getting ready to head south. He needed 
to know more about the new Ambassa- 
dor the Carter Admini s send- 
ing to El Salvador. 

It seemed thi 


Robert White would 
have a tough time with conservatives 
at his confirmation ngs. He was 
Ambassador to Paraguay and blasted 
the corrupt old di for 
human-rights abuses every chance he got. 
Now Senators who thought dictator- 
ship was а useful ally a 

nunism would get a shot 


heari 


orshi 


р ther 


at him. 


The Carter people at State thought 
White was just what they needed in El 
He was tough, outspoken, di 
rect, a perfect point man for the Admin- 

"s plan. The reporter called one 
of his friends, a liberal Senator's aide. 
talked about how hopeless the 
loran situation seemed, how relent- 
lessly bloody and confused. 


said the aide. "I don't know w 
make of it, but, you know. there are 
some people saying he's being sent down 
there to end his carcer 
б 

Soldiers who heard the 
laughed like children 
n adult's obscenity. La Puleada, they 
called it, a kind of “Fuck-you song" the 
military high command used to force 
out all the civilians in the government 
ten weeks after bringing them 


pe record 
who overhear 


Tt was never a comfortable union. 
The civilians blamed the military for 
continuing violence and repression. 
Especially, they blamed the minister of 
defense, Colonel José Guillermo Garci 
and his tightknit dique in the high 
command. 

Garcia was a short, round-faced, 
quicksmiling man with a large, un- 
ightly mole on his chin. He was 


about as physically unimposing as any- 
onc who wore a uniform. But he was 
part of the old order. At one point, 
before General Romero edged him out, 


a seemed to be in line for the 
job of president-dictator. Moderate left- 
ists both inside and outside the govern- 


ment believed he still wanted the job. 
ted him out and they wanted 
ned forces restructured. 

icit backing from Colonel Ma- 
jano, the civilians tried to foster a kind 
ol de council of young and 
low-ranking liberal officers to which 
everyone in the armed forces would be 
accountable. 

It was a bad move. It gave Garcia 
all the excuse he needed. 

The Salvadoran army has a fixation 
about its integrity. Many of the sol. 
diers who supported the ouster of the 
generals were lukewarm on the refc 
supposed to follow, But they sa 
the corruption of the high command was 
ging their beloved institution. They 


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PLAYBOY 


174 


also saw that the civilians in the gov- 
ernment were getting nothing done 


and now those same civ 
у king the entire 
the army. 

The showdown came at the end of 
December. The cabinet and the junta 
were mecting when suddenly command- 
ers from all over the country marched 
in and seated themselves around the 


jans were open- 
foundation of 


room. 
The commander of the Guardia Na- 


cional, Eugenio Vides C ova, stood up 
and told the civilians that they were sons 
of whores, unfit to govern anything. The 
military, he announced, would not lis- 
ten to them. would not follow them, 
and gave its entire allegiance to García. 

The civilians were shocked. Some 
were terrified. What did the armed 
forces want them to do? For days after 
the confrontation, they went around ask- 
ing the question. But the army didn't 
want them to do anything except get out. 
It way already negotiating with the Chris- 
пап Democrats to replace the 

Afterward, White would say that the 
ivili n the first government were 
the best people El Salvador had to offer. 
But by then, most of them were on the 
side of the guerrillas. 


. 
The Pentagon had an idea. Z 

Brzezinski on the National Security 

Council liked it. The Central Intelli- 


gence Agency thought it seemed logica 
and was putting together infor 
that made it seem more so. 

A Deputy Secretary of Defense told 
Congress there was “evidence of Cuban 


efforts to orchestrate Communist move- 
ments in Central America." He didn't 
say what the evidence was. “There are 
also indications that the Cubans cur- 
rently appear to be involved in the 
Salvador.” He didn’t say 
what the indications were, but he had 
begun laying the groundwork for the 
new idea. 

Tt was quite simple—send American 
advisors down to show the Salvadoran 
army how to fight guerrillas wl 
course, respecting human rights. Send 
them transportation and communication 
equipment to help them fight more 
effectively. (They already had plenty of 
guns) Generally, shore them up. then 
let them go out and clobber the agents 
of international comm 

White was livid. Not yet Ambassador, 
his stalled by Senator 
esse Helms of North Carolina, he al- 
ready found himself the middle of 
a policy showdown. 

“The Pe on has this driving need 
to get in there and show they can win a 
guerrilla war," he fumed in private. 

The Salvadoran armed forces were 
butchering people in wholesale lots. 
They had desuoyed the best chance 
for a political solution by ousting the 
i rom the first coalition. The 
Democrats were already d 
ling in the second junta because their 
paper agreement with the colonels 
proved. within weeks, to be nothing 
more than that. 

And now the Pen with infor- 
mation that some of the guerrillas had 
been trained in Cuba—ignoring the fact 


ism 


confirmation. 


Christian 
vi 


gon, 


that they were ill-armed and their sup- 
port among the people, their real 
strength, would only grow if the United 
States endorsed the bloody excess of the 
military—wanted to give the military 
everything its chiefs desired. 

White was supposed to oversee this 


lunacy? 

“If we are prepared to back a 
government this shaky,” he told a 
friend, “we have to look at what our 


options are down the road. I believe that 
75 percent of this is poli the 
United States—a fear by the Administra- 


something else 
тараа and the Р: 

Six American advisors had secretly 
been sent to El Salvador for a few 
wecks in November. Now there might 
be 36. That, White and his allies in 
the State Department were convinced, 
would be only the beginning of a new 
quagmire in Cenwal America. There 
would inevitably have to be more and 
morc advisors. 

If any U.S. troops went in, 
made it clear, he would not. 

+ 

The El Salvador 
port was completed in the last few 
months of General Romero's rule. It 
stands gleaming white and modern on 
the coasta n, surrounded by the 
tidy plots of farmland. San Salvador, the 
capital, is 40 miles away, but the beaches 
re right at hand. ‘The airport was 
tended to service i ional tourists 
flocking to the wide expanses of gray 
Pacific sand. 

But on the day the young reporter 
arrived in mid-February, the airport 
was all but deserted. The only crowd 
was at the ticket counter for outgoing 
planes. Anyone who had enough money 
to get out was leaving El Salvador and, 
if they were smart and could afford it, 
they took everything they had with them. 
Wellgroomed men in dark business 
suits stood waiting, while their body- 
guards—square-built thugs wearing dark 
glasses and carrying bricfeases—watched 
over them. At the boarding area, а sign 
advised passengers chat they would be 
searched lest they carry guns on board 
by accident.” 

The superhighway leading from the 

to San Salvador dissolves in 
bout ten miles taxis 
seemingly endless, twisted 
road to complete the trip. The reporter 
thought about ambushes all the way to 
the hotel. By the time he got there, he 
wanted a drink. 
At the bar, a pudgy, pig-eyed man 
with small hands and an obscene voice 
sat down on the stool beside him. The 
let showing the 
butt of a 58 Colt on thc bar 


Whi 


international air- 


wealthy man. I uke pre 


cautions. In my car, I have an UZI. You 
know the gun? 
The reporter looked down into his 


drink and the man started telling any- 


one who would listen what isholes 
and whoresons the members of the 
government were. 

“Well,” said the reporter cautiously, 


“where would you say you are on the 
political spectrum here?” 
would have 


The man stared. He 
seemed ludicrous if it weren't for the 
pistol. "I am not capitalist. I am not 


Communist," he said in his whiny voice. 
"I am National Socialist. You know—a 
Nazi." 

The reporter cut the conversation off 
as quickly as he could. It was too much. 
El Salvador was not ion of Nazis. 


Nothing was as simple as that. But ak 

ng confronted by the 
mad bitterness, the striving after simple. 
final solu “We must kill all the 


snakes," s; 

Old money was more tactful than that. 
The Fourteen were more secretive and 
more subtle in their schemes, even if 
the end were the same. But this was a 
self-made man, the kind who couldn't 
get out to Miami as the Fourteen could. 
He was a madman trapped in a mad- 
housc—believing that murder was the 
only way out. 


+ 

Hundreds of people—most of them 
poor, some in rags—came to listen to 
the solt, humble voice of the archbishop. 
There were also some in the соз who 
carried notebooks and tape recorders, 
and at the beginning of his homily, the 
gray-haired little pastor made what 
d a joke about people who thought 
scs were more political rallies 
and that people came out of political 

iosity." But this was i 
t I intend is 
d the archbishop. “H 


policy,’ 


ise of the need of the moment I am 


g the politics of my home- 
land, it is as a pastor reading from the 
Gospel.” 

Archbishop Oscar A. Romero made 
that statement in various ways countless 
times. But there was litle doubt that 
his was the most powerful political voice 
n the country. 
cw priests have ever been so intense 
ly loved or hated. To many of the poor, 
he seemed a saint. Visiting the shacks 
smothered the ravines in the capi- 
the hovels made of sticks in the 
о brought the people 
hope. To the radical left, he was not 
only an ally n authority, a figure 
of international standing—and also a 
moderating force they found nowhere 
within their own rinks. To the right 
d much of the military, li 
Communist demagog. 
form was the pulpit of the 
Metropolitan Cathedral, perhaps one of 


the ugliest buildings in the world. He 
left it unfinished because he felt the 
money was beuer spent on thc poor. Its 
conerete-and-brick had faded, and rust- 
ing iron reinforcing rods protruded from 
its spires. Where stained glass might be, 
there was only corrugated fiberglass, its 
n the random points of light 
let holes. 

On this Sunday, the archbishop had 
heard that the United States might be 
sending men and п pment io 
the Salvadoran government. He had 
a letter to President Carter and 
would 


only make 1 
Salvadoran mi 
more people than unde 
regime. If the equipment being sent was, 
ned to make the soldiers 
more efficient, whether the equipment 
itself was lethal or not, then they would 
only be able to kill more people with 
more impunity. 

“I hope that your religious sentiments 
and your sensibility for the defense of 
human rights will move you to accept 
my decision,” Romero wrote to Carter, 
“thereby avoiding a greater spilling of 
blood in this suffering country.” 

. 

To the extent that he could, the re- 

porter ignored the burst of gunfire out- 


tary was already killing 


any previous 


indeed, d 


side the hotel. He on his bed, 
watching El lor's newest television 
маға slight, muscular man, а young- 


looking 40 with thick black hi 
sat behind a studio desk asl 
countrymen why so man 
in the government. 

the October coup, Major Ro- 


+ who 


g hi 
Communists 


to D'Aubuisson м chief of intelli. 
gence for the ın Guardia 
Nacional. He was reputed to have 
rather rough way of questioning people, 
and some of the officers who seized the 
government from the generals thought 
D'Aubu ng, 
is own right-wing coup at the time, so 
they discharged him along with the old 
high comm: 


ig. however, the major 
went straight into politics. Taking ad- 
antage of the new freedom of specch, 
his backers bought him television time 
every few nights to blast the liberals 
the government and identify the Reds. 

D'Aubuisson was well trained to track 
down Communists, He had studied at 
the International Police Academy in 
Washington, D.C., before the Congress 
found out torture was on the curriculum 
nd shut it down. He went on to refine 
his antiterrorist techniques with the po- 
lice in Uruguay and Taiwan, then briefly 
did a stint with the U.S. Green Berets 
in Pa during the carly Seventies. 

Few people would have guessed th 
he would be so charismatic on the screen. 
His appearance and his opinion quickly 
made him the darling of the conser 
tive Sal iddle class. After years 
ing in the shadow of the oligarchy 
and struggling their way up through any 
opening in their country of limited op- 
portunity, the burghers of San Salvador 
had finally found a voice. The left never 
took them into account—the guerrillas 
wanted their war to be a class war and 
the bourgeoisie was the incarnation of 
evil The middle class was small, but it 
1 grown in the past decade as El 


“The finance company would like to have 
their Mr. Bailey back." 


175 


PLAYBOY 


Salvador began to industrialize; and now 
that most of the Fourteen had aban- 
doned the country, it was up to the 
middle class to save it. They were being 
kidnaped and killed, and as far as they 
were concerned, they were at war. D'Au- 
buisson might get money and guns from 
the Fourteen in Miami, but he had the 
hearts of the middle class. 

Tonight he was talking about the 
Communist reforms the junta was getting 
ready to announce and he was focusing 
attention on the Cli an Democrats in 
particular. This man, Mario Zamora 
Rivas, was a Communist. Why was he 
allowed to serve as a minister of the gov- 
ernment, as the “attorney gencral for the 
poor"? Why do the great Salvadoran 
people endure such a travesty? 

. 

Children climbed trees to look over 
the crowd and down through the shat- 
tered windshield of the car. The reporter 
squeezed among the cluster of spectator 
Through their sweat came the butcher- 
shop smell of the corpses. 

Two women had already been taken 
to the hospital. There was no rush for 
the men. One in the back seat of the 
little Toyota was slumped over on his 
side. Puckered, dime-size holes showed 
through the torn fabric of his shirt. The 
man sitting in front of him in the dri 
er's seat was apparently the main target. 
There was nothing left of his face. An 
eyeball hung in the vicinity of what was 
once his cheek. There were some teeth 
visible in that ge a. But so ma 
heavy-caliber bullets had been. pumped 
ato his head that it had collapsed 
melon rotted in the field. 

The reporter wanted to find some way 
of putting meaning to what he saw. That 
was why he had come out here. The only 
dead he had ever seen before were rela- 
ives in funeral homes, the embalmers’ 
wax replicas of people he had known. He 


wanted to see death as the Salvadorans 
saw it. 
But death, presented like this, on a 


street full of the curious in a quiet 
n section of the city, without 
without even the trappings 
of officialdom—there were no policemen, 
no n ngless. The re- 
porter found himself thinking, like the 
children around him, could he look at it 
again? He could. He could have looked 
there had becn any point 
. There was not even a story 
hs. Murder on the streets was 


edics—seemed mea: 


these di 
a commonplace, not news at all, in El 


. But the reporter began as 
questions of the bystanders. 

It seemed a pickup truck had pulled 
in front of the little car and slammed on 
its brakes. Two men riding in the bed 
stood up with automatic rifles, G-3s, the 
kind the army used, and s 

The killers had lingered a bit at the 


в 


176 scene, One had drawn а large skull on 


the wall beside the car and another had 
taken a glob of the driver's brain and 
lobbed it into the middle of the draw- 
ing—a little message from the Union of 
White Warrior 

But why were these men killed? An 
old woman said they had worked for the 
attorney general of the poor. One of 
them, the d may have looked a 
little like Mario Zamora. "But they were 
just derks on their lunch hour," said the 
old woman. “They never got involved in 
politics." 

Apparently, the message had gone to 
the wrong man. 


D 
The party was still going on at onc in 
the morning. Most of the Christian 
Democratic leaders were there tell 
political jokes and stories while Zamora 
or his wile kept their glasses filled with 
Scotch. It took a while for everyone to 
relax, but they had protection—their 
bodyguards were stationed near the door. 
The death squad came in through the 
skylight. There were perhaps a half- 
dozen men in all, but nobody remembers 
very clearly. Everybody was ordered face 
down on the floor. One by one, the 
partygoers were asked their names. 

“We don't want to make any mistake,” 
said a gunman. “ 

“Mario 2 

"Get up. Come on." 

No one heard any shots. The gunmen 
left. When a's body was found in 
the bathroom, he had more than a 
doi bullets in his head. 

The Christian Democrats flatly blamed 
D'Aubuisson for the murder, and pri- 
ely they said his tactic was obvious. 
He was trying to intimidate or climi 
nate anyone who might be a bridge to 
the moderate left, who might be able to 
begin negotiations for a peaceful settle- 
ment. If he could force them out of 
the government altogether, he would 
succeed. 

Already the Ch 1 Democrats were 
badly split. Zamora’s death was the final 
blow for some members. Héctor Dada 
Hi one of the two Christian Demo- 
crats on the junta, resigned from the 
government and the party and left the 
country. He was replaced by Duarte. 

The military promised a thorough in- 
vestigation of Zamora's dcath. No suspect 
was ever found. There was, in fact, no 
investigation, 


. 
The rhythm of killing was approach- 
ing some kind of climax, but it was 


impossible to say what that would be. 
The left had slowly pulled its ranks 
together. АП the guerrilla factions ex- 
cept the Р. had joined a coordinat- 
ing directorate. The leading civilians 
from the first junta formed the Demo- 
ic Revolutionary Front to lobby for 
world-wide support of the rebels. 
Although the Salvadoran government 


finally began its reform program in 
March 1980—after nearly six months of 
unfulfilled — promises—the archbishop 
edging ever closer to endorsing in- 
surrection and he continued to blast 
the government at ever 
The reforms were good, he said. 
they had to be taken in “the context 
of the dead and the annihilation. 

Something was going to happen, but 
the reporter was sick and would not 
for it. After only a few days, he 
returned to the apartment he kept in 
Mexico. He telephoned the woman in 
the United States he had been secing—or 
trying to sec—for more than а year 
and, on impulse, they decided to get 
married immediately, before some new 
horror show dragged him back to EL 
Salvador. It would take just four days 
in Philadelphia for the blood tests to 
dear and the papers to be processed. 

He didn't tell the ofhce where hc 
was going, just that he would be gone. 
When he saw his bride-to-be at the 
Philadelphia airport—how strange and 
quiet and peaceful even that crime-rid- 
den city now scemed to him—he told 
her that nothing could stop them from 
marrying now except. 
They're going to kill Romero. I 
don't know when, but soon. If it hap- 
pens this weekend, I'll have to go back 
down. That's all there is to it.” 

It seemed, in Philadelphia, so melo- 


dramatic to say that. lt just a 
feeling, after all. 
. 
D'Aubuisson's failure to carry off a 


Febr coup against the 
Democrats was a setback, but hardly a 
defeat. His people reorganized and now, 
as the Presidential race in the United 
ates was fully under way and Reagan 
took the lead, they were regaining con- 
fidence. Some of them already had con- 
tacts among Reagan's entourage who 
recognized the danger of letting commu- 
nism sweep over El Salvador and saw 
what quasi-Communists the Carter. Ad- 
ministration had put in power. 

Men in the Senate like Helms and 
his staffers understood the danger and 
could be talked to. This was a time 
cetings, a time to 
al backing in what 
on and his people were sure 
would be the new Administration. 

But there were other things to be done 
as well, and to be done right now, be- 
fore the chaos worsened and the left had 
the guns to mount a full-scale insurrec- 
tion. Notes made by D'Aubuisson and 
his friends at the time refer to some- 
thing called Operation Pineapple. A 
gun was bought—a .22-caliber rifle with 
a telescopic sight. Money was deposited 
in a Miami bank account 


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there and often said evening Mass in the 
adjoining chapel. 

This night there was a special service, 
a memorial Mass for the mother of one 
of the few leftist publishers still in the 
country. It was a pleasant evening, with 
the doors of the chapel open, as always, 
to let the cool night breeze circulate. 

In his Sunday homily the day before, 
the archbishop had denounced the 
iolence of both the left and the govern- 
ment, but, as so often happened—be- 
cause there were so many more examples 
of government violence to cite—he had 
seemed to be attacking only the regime. 
More boldly than ever before, he had 
made ап appeal—a demand—for the 
violence to end. He had directed his 
words to the troops: “I ask you, І pray 
you, in the name of God, I order you to 
stop the repression!" 

But this cvening his words were quiet- 
er. He talked of the need for any Chris- 
tian to involve himself in the world, 
despite the risks. “He who wants to with- 
draw from danger will lose his life.” said 
the archbishop. But the person who gives 
himself to the service of others will be 
like a grain of wheat that falls to the 
ground and dies—but only apparently 
dies, for by its death, its wasting away in 
the ground, a new harvest is made. 

The archbishop prepared the Eucha- 
rist and raised the chalice to God. 

He never saw the gunman just inside 
the chapel doors. 


• 

An awkward calm settled. over San 
Salvador in the days following the arch- 
bishop's death, Everyone was waiting for 
the funeral on Sunday, but the violence 
did not increase. 

Chacén warned his people that they 
were being tempted into a trap. Stay 
quict, he said, the government is trying 
to produce an insurrection before we arc 
ready. The spontaneous uprising never 
came, but the tension remained, a pal- 
pable bitterness and despair settling over 
the barrios. 

Conservatives openly gloated. Of 
course, they didn't approve of murdering 

ests, they said, but one had to admit 
that Romero got what he deserved. 
When you put yourself in politics in this 
country, you have to expect this kind 
of thing. 

Ambassador White had been in EL 
Salvador for three weeks. А personally 
conserva nd religious man, а New 
England Irish Catholic whose faith was 
somehow strengthened by decades in 
Forcign Service posts where suffering was 
always visible, White was appalled at 
what he saw in El Salvador. 

“When we have cuerpos de seguridad 
who commit more crimes than they solve, 
it is a very sad situation," he said. There 

vas no applause that week when he ap- 


ive a 


178 peared before a chamber-of-commerce 


luncheon. It was not a friendly audience 
and White was not friendly to it. 

“The violence in the countryside con- 
tinues," he said. “The excesses of the 
security forces continue," causing d 
affected workers and peasants to join the 
ranks of the militant left. “They are be- 
ing killed and tortured and I have 
talked to them and I know who is doing 
it. 


White looked around the room grown 
arctic with silence. Reporters at the rear 
be i 


was an abomination, White continued. 
What w ned by the killing of Ma 
Zamora? By the murder of the archbish- 
op? By the killing, just today, of Juan 
Chacón—— 

Several reporters dashed out of the 
room to telephones. 

Chacón dead? 
furiously. He wa 
the university, 
White's remarks. 

The import of White's speech that day 
was lost in embarrassment and back- 
tracking. He had been assured at least 
twice that morning by his military and 
intelligence people that Chacón had 
been killed. They had cither lied to him 
or been lied to by their Salvadoran con- 
tacts. Either their information was gross- 
ly erroneous or someone was setting 
White up for a fall. 

e 

Palm fronds waved above the heads of 
the crowd. It was Palm Sunday. The 
reporter had forgotten. 

People were everywhere, filling the 
cathedral square and spilling over into 
the side streets. Many, perhaps most, 
were women and  children—50,000 
mourners for the archbishop. А folk 
choir sat around the coffin on the cathe- 
dral nging, "You are the God of 
No troops, no guns were in 
sight. The only people in uniforms were 
boy scouts manning the ropes that kept 
the crowd oll the sidewalk in front of 
the high steel gate at the bottom of the 
steps. The morning sun was hot, and 
near the rope, where the crowd was most 
tightly packed, women were fainting. 

The funeral oration was begun. A 
Mexican cardinal delivered a long, dron- 
ing message of Christ that carefully side- 
stepped all the volatile issues once 
addressed by the man now lying 
the heavy casket. Above the coffin 


hey began checking 
not dead. He was at 
surprised as anyone at 


tthe 
archbishops chair, symbolic and empty. 

rhe reporter listened awhile from the 
shade of trees at the corner of the cathe- 
dral, then moved out onto the sidewalk 
in front of the fence. 

A cheer went up from the crowd. The 
muchachos—"the boys"—of the popular 
organizations had arrived after marching 
through the city. The crowd somehow 
managed to pull apart to let them 
through. Many of the boys and girls 


wore kerchiefs over their faces, and 
some carried banners. Many others car- 
ried the plastic bags and satchels and the 
long thin boxes that the reporter knew 
from experience held Molotovs, pistols 
and rifles. At the sides of the crowd, two 
embassy officials observing the funcral 
decided to return to their offices. 

The cardinal kept speaking. A wreath 


of plastic flowers in the yellow-and-red 
colors of the Bloque was pa vard 
above the crowd and pla the 


coffin. Another cheer went up. The mu- 
chachos raised their fists in salute and 
chanted a revolutionary slogan. The 
cardinal paused a moment, then went on. 

An explosion. 

Everyone turned to sce where it came 
from—somewhere near the closest corner 
of the nal Palace diagonally across 
the plaza, leaflets were floating through 
the air. The muchachos often used little 
bombs to launch their propaganda above 
the heads of à crowd, but this—— 

Another explosion. Another. A quick 
burst of shots. 

The only place for the reporter to go 
was over the fence and he surprised 
himself with his speed as he vaulted i 
He shouldered his way up the sta 
through the crowd of clerics, but at the 
top, the priests blocked his way. 

Panic had swept the crowd. Shots 
were going off everywhere now and 
people were running, most of them 
toward the cathedral steps 

The priests seemed oblivious to what 
was happening. “Calm down. Calm 
down.” they said to the wailing masses. 
“There's nothing to worry about. 

Automobiles exploded at h corner 
of the plaza, sending liquid flame 
spreading out across the pavement. The 
barrier rope had disappeared and now 
hundreds, thousands of people were 
pressing against the fence, It was still 
locked. Some were making it over, but 
many were not. Old women were being 
a to death, their faces squeezed 
between the 3 

The screams, the shooting, the bombs 
were deafening. and the priests—their 
cries for calm now altogether lost—fell 
back the cathedral, stumbling, 
knocking over the archbishop's c 
some of th ing to drag the coffin 
with them. The reporter made his way 
to the stairs leading into the choir loft 
and spires, but they were already blocked 
by masked muchachos, pistols drawn. 

The gates were forced open and 
people poured into the cathedral. Des- 
perately, they sought out friends, rela- 
tives, some touch of safety. Withi 
minutes the cathedral was so crowded 
t was impossible to move. Men who 
stripped off their shirts and twirled them 
above their heads to keep the air circu- 
lating found themselves so tightly pressed 
they couldn't get their hands back down 


rs 


ushed 


into 


‘Oh? And what kind of trick were you expecting for five dollars?” 


179 


PLAYBOY 


to their sides. Children were lifted onto 
shoulders. 

Behind the reporter, an old man was 
expiring. The people around him were 
shouting for room. The old man was 
naked from the waist up, his chest de- 
formed, his cyes staring at nothing. For 
30 minutes he was wrestled through 20 
feet of crowd toward one of the areas in 
the church more exposed to bullets but 
with more air to breathe. 

On his hands and knees, the reporter 
worked his way up the stairs past women 
and children and old men who were 
praying amid the rattle of machine guns 
and the blast of Molotov cocktails push- 
ng in at them from outside. Finall 
the choir loft, he could begin to study 
the situation. Most of the shots were out- 
going. The muchachos were blasting 
away from all three entrances to the 
cathedral and from high in the spires. 
Others were prone in the street, firing a 
any sound or movement. Some were chil 
dren, perhaps ten years old, almost over- 
whelmed by the pistols in their hands. 

Everyone's immediate fea 
the military would appear 
ing into the building or even inv 


le it to 
clean out the snipers. But the army, the 


to be 


police, the Guardia were nowhe 
seen. 


The shooting died out slowly in the 
hedral square and slowly, very slowly, 


to trickle outside. Smoke 
from bu still hung heavy on 
the scene. The reporter looked at the 
shoes piled near the fence where th 
panicked owners had lost them, at the 
leaflets with Romero's face on them, at 
the bodies. Volunteer rescue teams had 
appeared, They were loading uncon- 
scious mothers and grandmothers, old 
men and boys—the possibly alive—into 
trucks and ambulances to be take ay. 

Off to one side of the cathedral was a 
muchacho who had seen a photographer 
taking his picture when the shooti 
started. He had struck a revolutiona 
pose with his Molotov and it had blown 
up in his hands. Now he lay on the side- 
walk, the bones showing at the stumps 
of his arms, à hole under his chin where 

bit of shrapnel had entered, the back 
of his head gone and the brain spilling 
where it had exited. 

Perhaps he had spun around as he fell 
or perhaps somebody had come along 
ater and donc it. The boy's body was 
wrapped in a banner of the popular 
organizations. 


people be; 


. 

The debate about who, how, what had 
started the massacre would go оп for 
er be resolved: but in the 

nd, the question was irrelevant. Any- 
one could have started the madness and 
the panic that day. It was the culmina- 
tion of so many months and years of 
fear and hatred and hopelessness, and 
it ultimately made the hopelessness 


i80 worse. These were the boys who were 


asking for the people's faith, who were 
preparing to lead them in a glorious 
revolution, and the boys had panicked 
with everybody else. They had kept fi 
ing long after there was anything to 
fire at—if, indeed, there had ever been— 
nd more than 30, perhaps more than 
40 people lay dead for nothing. 

A goal of the terrorism all along had 

been to make the people cry out, "Ваза 
ya!" —Enough!—bring us peace, no mat- 
ter what you have to do. The guerrilla 
thought “the masses" would believe, as 
they did, that insurrection was the only 
htists were certam that 
the great people of El Salvador would 
support a ruthless crackdown on the 
troublemaking Communists. But no side 
looked as if it could win quickly or 
would deliver what it promised if it did. 
The people turned inward and with 
resounding apathy said to their would- 
be saviors, “To hell with you all. 
5 of power-grabbing 
competition wi government, the 
embassy and the left continued. They 
were well established by April 1980 and 
over the next eight months, the m 
rists would be strengthened on all sides. 
Within the government, the pre-emi- 
nence of Garcia and Gutiérrez would 
continue to grow. At the embassy, the 
Pentagon would find ways to work 
around White and, in defcrence to Presi- 
dent Carter, put a human-rights vencer 
on its initiatives. On the left, tlie popu- 
lar organizations would steadily lose 
their power to mobilize the masses, but 
the guerrillas themselves would begin to 
get the guns they had wanted and 
needed for so long. 

This was a wai 


But the patter 


g time, the period 
of “the phony war,” as one disillusioned 
Marxist called it. The casualties were 
real enough, but there was a growing 
consciousness on all sides that each little 
maneuver, each little skirmish, might be 
ised to influence world opinion. 
Delegations of ns who had once 
served in the government and now sided 
with the guerrillas traveled all over the 
world to establish links with Social 
Democratic parties and convince poten- 
ial Western friends that the regime the 
insurgents wanted would be a democratic 
paradigm, not a Marxist dictatorship. 
Duarte and his party lobbied the Chris- 
п Democrats of Europe and South 
America, looking for allies to join the 
United States in its support of their 
regime. They were embattled moderates, 
they said. caught between the extremes 
of a Neanderthal right and а Pol Pot 
left, but the reforms were winning them 
more support every day and their troops 
had the country under control. D'A 
buisson and his followers traveled m; 
ly to Miami and Washington, with 
occasional side trips to the sympathetic 
regimes of Gua Honduras and the. 
southern cone. All they wanted was a 


real democracy like the one described in 
the U.S. Constitution, where free men 
could work and thrive in a truly capital- 
ist economy. 

The left was easily taken care of, they 
said—it didn't have the support of the 
people. It might be necessary to use some 
еге mcasui nst the subvci 
and their sympathizers for a while, but 
that was the price you had to pay for 
edom. 


e 
‘The hotel was as empty as it had eve 
been, and after five days in El Salvador, 
the reporter was glad to be g 
lt was Thanksgiving Day. He û 
listened to thc 

bags. 

it confirmed," came the 
voice breaking into the music, “Enrique 
Alvarez, Juan Chacon and four other 
leaders of the Revolutionary Democratic 
Front have been arrested. 

Jesus, there was no getting out of here. 

‘The reporter called everyone he could 
think of—Church officials and Garcia, 
White and the commander of the em- 
bassy military group. It was the usual 
bility merry-go-round. 

The Church cl 
cratic Front leaders were getting ready 
to hold a press conference when men in 
civilian clothes backed up by unilormed 


White 
rightwing extremists trying to дема 
lize the regime—but they didn't rule out 
the chance that some of the security 
forces helped. G said he had no 
knowledge of any arrests and had no 
information on the incident, which had 
taken place at a Catholic boys’ school in 
the center of the capital. Later in the 
afternoon, after calling around to all the 
cuartels, he would refine his statement to 
say there had definitely not been any 
arrests and the military had had noth 
to do with the affair. 

There were no clear answers, but the 
consequences were extreme. In the next 
few hours, the bodies of the revolution- 
aries, strangled and shot, were found 
littered outside the city. 


Ah s Muzak drifted 
through the hotel bar as the reporter 


sat talking with Jean Donovan and 
Dorothy Kazel the day before the funer- 
al. The lelt was trying to explain away 


the expected small tur 
were going to show up but not really 
in force, because you know what hap- 
pens under this genocidal government 
and there is mo point in having your 
people slaughtered needlessly. Dorothy 
and Jean, who spent most of their days 
һ the p Liber 
© skept 
they were 
fear. 
Dorothy was а nun, but the kind of 


ut people 


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PLAYBOY 


182 


nun one meets so often in Central Amer- 
ica. More frequently than a habit, she 
wore blue jeans and a checked shirt. 
Jean was younger, 2 lay worker who 
looked like a nun. It wasn't their clothes 
that made them so obviously religious 
women, it wi their manner, their 
smiles and their thinking—their seem- 
gly boundless concern about other 
people's suffering. 

“Things have changed so much in 
the past year," said Dorothy. "There's 
such hatred everywhere. 

The reporter called it an atmosphere 
of vendetta. Everyone was looking for 
some kind of revenge. Often, he said, 
the clergy were vulnerable targets. 

"We're OK," said Jean. “The safest 
person in El Salvador has to be a 
blonde, blue-eyed gringa.” 

The reporter was called to the phone 
and Dorothy and Jean decided to leave. 
They waved goodbye as they went out 
the door. 

"Let's stay in touch. . . 7 

“ГИ call you їп а few days,” said 
Dorothy. 


5 

Robert White knew what he was 
going to see and he dreaded it. The 
black bulletproof Cadillac and its two 
chase cars drove on and on through the 
parched dryseason countryside, For a 
while. they seemed headed for the air- 
port along the winding, rough-surfaced 
le road. Another time, White might 
have been concerned about the possibil- 
ity of an ambush laid out from the high 
banks on either side of the narrow pave- 


ment. But he hardly thought of such 
things anymore. It wasn't worth it. The 
security men would worry about that. So 
far, no attempts against him had come 
even dose. He had luck or Providence 
to thank for that, he supposed. Some- 
nes it occurred to him that he had 
been taking up an inordinate amount 
of God's time since he arrived in El 
Salvador. 

He wanted to get there. That was all 
he cared about. Get there and see who 
ihe gringas were im the shallow gra 
hoping— But there was no hope. He 
knew who they were. He and everybody 
at the embassy had been calling every- 
where lor more than a day. The mi 
tary had said it had no inform: 
Finally, the Church had gotten a 

Two of the women had stayed in 
Whites house just two nights before. 
They had come over for dinner with 
the priest they worked with and they 
had stayed up too late to drive all the 
way back to La Libertad. So White and 
his wife had asked them to stay. 

It was just the next night that they 
had gone to the airport to pick up Sisters 
Ita Ford and Maura Clarke, and then 
they had just disappeared. 

The Cadillac turned off the airport 
road and headed east toward—what was 
the name of the little town?—San Juan 
Nonualco. ‘There were other little vil- 
lages on the way. Peaceful. Ordinary. 
As if nothing had happened. 

The violence was widespread but 
iously selective. Graham Greene 
ten about such things. “Cruelty 


ve, 


"I'm afraid we'll have to 
excuse you, madam. Your pronounced 
aversion to armed robbery makes it unlikely 
that you could serve impartially.” 


swept through the county like a spot- 
light." The Ambassador had been read- 
ing and rereading Greene. The books 
seemed to say a lot about White himself, 
about his God, about these people—"the 
torturable class.” It had once seemed 
people were immune to the 
but now anybody, everybody 
was eligible. Torture had become a great 
equalizer. 

The Cadillac stopped among the re- 
porters’ cars plastered with signs telling 
the world they were press, as if that 
would do any good. They were clustered 
around a mound of dirt in a little patch 
all the other little patches 
nd dusty, with a few trees 


of land, dry 
and bushes. 

The grave was opened and there were 
a couple of Guardia standing around, 


watching nothing in particular, and an 
officious little justice of the peace who 
had to oversee such thi and the re- 
porters and photographers wondering 
whether or not to look—not knowing 
not to. The smell of the dead ran like 
a poisonous current through the still air. 

One by one, the bodies were pulled 
out. Jean. It must be Jean, but her face 
had been exploded by a bullet in the 
back of the head. Her pants were half 
unzipped. Her underwear somehow 
hung from her ankle. Now Dorothy, 
Sisters Ita and Maura, being dragged 
ike sides of meat from the pit. 
Reporters were talking to White, but 
he didn't hear. He turned and stared 
at the Guardia, the little judge, the 
camera crews, stared all around, trying 
to control himself. 


Й 
One day after the nuns’ bodies were 
covered, all United States aid to El 
or was temporarily suspended. A 

commission was appointed in 
hington to go down and investigate 
what appeared to be a cover-up of the 
kilings. Every bit of the evidence that 
existed, and there was not much, point- 
ed to members of the security forces— 
most probably the national guard—as 
the murderers. They had set up a road- 
block where the nuns might have been 
stopped, and it was clear that the mili- 
tary in the arca knew where the nuns 
were buried but had said nothing about 
itin wer to the enb 

“They've got an oldboy network," 
said White. “They know mn well who 
did it, but they're not saying. 

More than moral indi; 


di 


sy's inquiries. 


tion was at 


work here. There was also the coldly ob- 
served political opportunity for the 
с n Democrats to gain the upper 


ad in forging an agreement with the 
army. They would have the full backing 
of the United States and they might at 
last force the military to clean its ranks 
from the bottom to the top. 

w an opportunity as well. 
D'Aubuisson returned from Guatemala. 


Rea 
United < 


n was already President-elect of the 
tes. If D'Aubuisson's friends 
in the military could just hold out a lit 
tle longer, another six weeks, then the 
Reagan Administration would take office 
and the pressure would be off. 

All the powers in the country were 
moving to take advantage of the regime's 
confusion in the wake of the killings. 
Some changes were bound to take place 
and some officials were going to lose out. 

The first to go was Adolfo Majano. 

He had dithered and ploued for too 
long and, in his frustration at steadily 
losing power, he had begun to make 
thinly veiled criticisms of the high com 
mand. Majano was a chess player, one of 
the best in El Salvador, and he played 
politics like he played the рате of 
infinite calculation and subtle 


up 


ng of the military’s commanders— 
h Maj not invited—a vote 
nd by an overwhelming ma- 
jority, they voted to remove the colonel 
from the junta. He was assigned to an in- 
significant diplomatic post, the usual 
d so many of his former 
d gone to. Instead, he went 


exile, the 


White was calling on all his powers to 
resolve the crisis in the Christian Demo: 
crats favor. But his powers were waning. 
Word had leaked shington of a 
Reagan transition-team “hit list" that 
named White as one Ambassador sure to 
be sacked. He appeared а 
y of a lameduck Administration 
and El Salvador's conservatives saw less 
reason than ever to listen to him. 

White sent a steady barrage of cables 
to Washington, asking for public support 
from Reagan's people. For a while, he 
seemed to get it. Re 
advisor Richard Allen said on national 
television that the Reagan Administra 
tion would continue to support a mod- 

i n El Salvador. 


ign policy 


crate, refori 


visors on. Latin America as well as with 
D'Aubuisson's people in alvador. 
White was not sure what DiGiovanni was 
telling those people, but he suspected— 
and many of the D'Aubuison crowd 
believed—that the hidden message he 
brought was exactly what they wanted to 
hear: "Do what you want and need to 
do. The Reagan Administration. will 
back your play." 


. 

One by one, the officers walked into 
the Casa Presidencial with their pistols 
drawn. The reporter standing in the 
doorway of the waiting room got a little 
nervous. He walked down to the guard 


SEAGRAM DISTILLERS СО. N Y.C AMERICAN WHISKEY — A BLEND. 80 PROOF. 


a 23 


183 


PLAYBOY 


post to see what was happening and, to 
relief, saw a long table piled high 
h pearkhandled .155 and customized 
.357 Magnums, UZls, nine-millimeter 
automatics with extra-long clips. Good 
idea to leave them down here, he thought. 
Somebody might get angr 

Upstairs on the balconies above the 
tropical courtyard, the final decision on 
the new structure of government was 
being made. Majano was now officially 
out. The four other junta members 
would remain in place, but Duarte 
would get the title of president. Real 
power would remain, however, with 
Gutiérrez, now the vice 
commander in chief, and w Я 
still ensconced as defense minister. All 
that would be made public later in the 
day. There was another, secret agree- 
ment—the price the Christian Demo- 
crats demanded for staying in the 
government. 

Certain key members of the military 
would have to be removed from their 
commands. Most prominent on the list 
was deputy minister of defense Nicolas 
Carranza. A year before, he had voted 
against bringing the Christian Democrats 
into the junta. He wanted a military 
regime with technocrats handling day- 
to-day administration. That was close to 
the D'Aubuisson scheme of things and 
the Christian Democrats suspected. Ca 
ranza of being their most dangerous op- 
ponent within the army. He would have 
to go in January. 

At the same time, a couple of other 
commanders would be relieved of their 
posts, and by the beginning of February, 
the chief of the treasury police was also 
supposed to go. 

It was not an agreement the soldiers 
liked, but it would do for the moment. 
And, some considered, it could always 
bc amended. 

They picked up the 

E 

"Let the Yankee Pentagon make no 

istake. If it attacks the Salvadoran 
people, it will have another thorn in i 
side.” 

The Havana auditorium erupted in 
long, enthusiastic applause, and Salvador 
Cayetano Carpio stood back and soaked 
up the adulation. After so many years 
underground, the 60-year-old guerrilla 
t the peak of his power, 
speaking before his socialist brothers at 
the second party congress of Cuba. Rep- 
es were there [rom all over 
the Communist world, and he wanted to 
thank them for the help that was going 
to make his revolution possible at last. 
months now, arms bound for El 
Salvador from Vietnam, Ethiopia, Cuba, 
Eastern. Europe and the Soviet Union 
had been flowing into Nicaragua—so 
many that bottlenecks were forming. 
‘They couldn't be moved fast enough. 


guns and left. 


184 But they were on their way nonetheless 


and the Salvadoran guerrillas—with all 
the people behind them, they said— 
were going to present Reagan with an 
reversible military situation” by the 
time he took office on January 21. 
Revolution or death!" shouted Car- 
pio. 

Viva Salvador,” screamed the crowd. 
{View 
But later, when the first shots of the 
long-awaited “final offensive” came, they 
missed pretty badly. A guerrilla squad 
attacked Ilopango, the military air base 
just outside San Salvador, with some 
newly arrived American-made, Cuban- 
supplied recoilless rifles Every round 
they fired soared over the barracks, over 
the planes and helicopters they were try- 
ing to hit and over the long, broad run- 
way to land harmlessly in а weed patch 
on the other sid 

It was not an auspicious beginning 
rillas and things would get 
worse. The government army was sup- 
posed to split. Except for a few minor 
incidents, it stayed united. The people 
were supposed to rise up en masse, as 
they had in the Nicaraguan revolution, 
to build barricades and hit the soldiers 
hard wherever they appeared. But the 
people did not rise up. Attacks were 
mounted on cuartels throughout. the 
country and the guerrillas demonstrated 
a level of coordination they had never 
shown before. But not a single cuartel 
was taken. 

After those first few days in January 
1981, the guerrillas declared that the 
final offensive was actually a general 
offensive. It really wasn't supposed to be 
final at all, just a beginning. 

It was that. The phony war came to 
an end with the attack on Tlopango air- 
port. In San Francisco Gotcra, where 
some of the heaviest fighting took place, 
bodies lay rotting on the streets for days. 
They were burned to help kill the 
stench and disease until there was noth- 
ing left but charred meat on sets of ribs 
and femurs with. perhaps a recognizable 
foot attached. The same scenes were re- 
peated in Zacatecoluca, in Suchitoto. 
Soon the countryside would be nothing 
but deserted fields and clusters of build- 
ings become bullet-riddled ghost towns. 

. 

The reporter was sick of it. The blood- 
shed, the venal idiocy of it all. It meant 
so little, finally. At least 13,000 people 
had died in El Salvador since his arrival 
there almost a year before. One could 
play games with a statistic like that, 
could say that proportionate to its popu- 
lation, the United States would have to 
lose 500,000 people to political violence 
in order to sense the same social and 
human cost. 

But, of course, death isn't measured 
that way. Numbers of corpses don't 
count until you know one, or two, or a 
dozen of them, or, at least, until you 


can see them as some part of yourself — 
as an American or as a journalist or as 
a nun, There are cynical axioms in the 
newspaper business to cover such things. 
One dead hometown boy is worth ten 
dead Englishmen is worth 50 Australians 
is worth 200 dead Chinese or Indians or 
Salvadorans or. 

But even the Salvadorans came to 
look at the numbers of the dead with a 
numb, sometimes vicious detachment. 
In their less discreet moments, some of 
the more extreme rightists would talk 
of the need to kill 200,000 leftists in 
order to clean up the country. No one 
was immune anymore. Everyone was 
somebody else's Communist or imperial- 
ist. No place was safe. 

The war had become so much bigger 
than E] Salvador. It was a symbol of the 
new battle between nd West, and 
individuals get lost in symbols. After the 
United States voted in November 1980 
to make America tough and strong once 
ing back its respect, no 
an in Washington wanted to be 


Salvador” in the face of the Krem 
maneuvering. 

Robert White tried in his sometimes 
dumsy, sometimes belligerent and exces- 
ive way to keep perspective. In his 
mind, the issue should have been wheth- 
ashington wanted to be 
nbered as a supporter of a “geno- 
iling regime." But even 


cidal, 
White finally rolled with the tide. 


When four or five oversize dugout 
canoes full of armed men landed on a 
Salvadoran beach just across the Gulf 
nseca from Nicaragua. White all 
but called it an inv obody else, 
not even Duarte, went that far; but 
White had just signed off on a complete 
renewal of “nonlethal” U.S. military 
aid to the Salyadoran government, and 
this was an opportunity to make the 
point that it was justified. 

The intelligence reports about mas- 
ve deliveries of guns to the guerrillas 
ad persuaded White that the U. S. aid 
was necessary. The memory of the nuns 
stayed with him. He was bitter at what 
he saw as а noninvestigation of their 
deaths. But the size of the threat, the 
hundreds of tons of arms supposedly 
going to the Communists, forced him 
to go along with the Pentagon at least 
th 


Within days, the 
ed to indude, for 


supply was extend- 
the first time since 
1977, lethal wi 000,000 worth 
of M-16 rifles, g chers, recoil- 
less rifles and four Huey helicopters. 
Accompanying them would be U.S. 
advisors. Just for meci al training. 
No combat personnel. Again, White 
went along with the decision. He hadn't 
wanted to escalate the war. But the 
Communists had already done it and 
the United States could not just sit back 
and watch. The Salvadoran troops had 


КУ 


MJ 


Cohan loon TA 4 


“And that would be little Susan.” 


185 


PLAYBOY 


186 


held off the final offensive "without a 
single cartridge" from the United States, 
but now they had started to run out. 

There were worries, though. While 
White was playing them down, at least 
in public, his aides were despondent. 
They could see the door opening for the 
next Administ was not 
even President yet, but Carter, old 
human-rights Carter, was setting up 
a Stame of erty play, handing 
the ball and letting him sprint toward 
the goal Carter had only a week left 
in office, but he was taking responsibility 
for endorsing the Salvadoran military 
with gilts of bullets and bombs and 
American soldiers. Reagan could put in 
more bullets, more bombs, more Ame 
cans, and they would be only increments, 
not the crucial first step. 

Yet even that was not enough for the 
Pentagon. On the eve of Reagan's In- 
auguration, Colonel Eldon Cummings, 
head of the embassy's military group, the 
U.S. А 


went to 
on 


75 more U.S. 


dvisors Cummings 
the Salvadorans had requested. 
White exploded. This finally was too 
much. Let Reagan make the decision to- 
morrow; White was sure as hell not 


oing to do it. A year ago, he had seen 
the quagmire coming, had seen the po- 
tential for the Vietnamization of El 
Salvador. He was not going to sign off 
on it now. 

Within « month, Alexander Haig. the 


new Secretary of State, called White to 
Washington, Haig not happy with 
his work as Ambassador and White was 
relieved of his post. As a career Foreign 
Service officer, he had to be assigned 
to some new position of equal rank. 
Haig made him some offers he had to 
refuse, then effectively fired him from 
the diplomatic corps. 

б 

Colonel Jaime Abdul Gutiérrez took 
a Ggarette from the reporter and loos- 
ened his tie. The colonel was relaxing 
in the Casa Presidencial as he reminisced 
about the October coup some 15 months 
before. He smiled as he talked about his 
feud with Majano, who, after all, had 
never been a commander as he had, had 
never been in private enterprise as he 
had. The fall of the first junta brought 
a laugh. Now the Christian Democrats 
were irritated because the head of the 
treasury police was still at his post, con- 
trary to their little agreement. But that 
could be worked out. Duarte had proved 
to be very flexible. 

The war was going all right. Of 
course, Gutiérrez couldn't say that it 
would be over in four months or one 
year or two. The guerrillas were pretty 
heavily dug in in the mountains of the 


north. There was always the danger 
that if they pulled off some spectacular 


victory, the people who thus far had 
stood apart from them would suddenly 
and finally rush to their sides as saviors. 
But the government reforms were wor 


SEO AES. 


"It's the usual—the women are talking orgasms and 
the men are talking chain saws." 


better than | anybody—especially 
iérrez—cxpected. they would, and 


maybe the government had won more 
hearts and minds than anyone knew. 

Of course, the problem, thought the 
reporter, was that no one knew. No one 
ever knew anything. Elections were be- 
ing planned with the idea that the 


people could finally express their pref 
erence for one man, one course of action 
or another. Guti was very enthusi- 
astic about the idea. It would give the 
Salvadoran government some legitimacy. 
But both the left and the right were 
rejecting the elections as a ploy by the 


Ah, politics. Gutiérrez just wanted to 
save his country from the Communists 
and his army from disintegration and 
humiliation, and always there were these 
politicians complicating things 

But finally Washington had come 
around. As Gutiérrez sat talking to the 
reporter, there were American cargo 
planes unloading new guns a few miles 
away. The Hucys patrolled the skie: 
Scattered around the country were 51 
U.S. advisors to turn his troops into 
crack units. If more cquipment were 
needed, more advisors, the Yankees now 
seemed to be dependable suppliers. 

The reporter had met some of the 
advisors. Clean-faced and enthusiastic, 
full of talk about the great morale of 
the Salvadoran army and the fight 
against international communism. They 
were going to show the Salvadorans 
how to fight a guerrilla war “even bet- 
ter” than the way the United States had 
fought it in Vietnam, as Colonel Cum- 
mings used to say. 

So the colonel had many reasons to 
be confident about the future. But he 
was a S n. and the future, he 
knew, was never certain. 

What if there were peace? That wor- 
ried him. 

"I want to tell you,” said Gutiérrez, 
“my impression is that peace is tough 
than war. What I mean is that in this 
n this present circumstance, 
ating everything on one 
objective. And no matter how many dif- 
ferent trends there are in the army, you 
nage, because there is one enemy, 
use there is danger, because of lots 
of things, But when all that ends, then 
comes the question of how to bring to- 
gether all these forces afterward.” 

But, Colonel, aren't you worricd that 
there might be some other Gutiérrez out 


there plotting against you? Would you 
know it if there were? 
He thought for moment. “No,” he 


said, smiling at the reporter, "you can't 
know that. Really, when these things 
appen, the last to know. . . . 
Outside the Casa Presidencial, the 
streets were quiet, more quiet than usual. 


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


9 mg. "tar", 0 .8 mg. nicotine av. per cigarette, FTC Report Jan. 80. 


©1981 BAWTCa. 


Take the road to flavor 
- ina low tar cigarette. 


The low ‘tar’ with = 
genuine tobacco flavor, lL = 


RALEIGH LIGHTS 


PLAYBOY 


188 


WRITERS’ COOKING SCHOOL 


(continued from page 164) 


“John Birch Society Beans are so named because of 
the intense internal reaction they produce.” 


Other 
Whor 


Artists and The Best Little 


house in Texas. 


GLAZED BARBECUE RIBS VACATION 


Pour ‘bout 18 bottles of barbecue 
sauce in a washtub or the biggest pan 
you can get in your oven. Flop many, 
many ribs into it and let simmer—oh, a 
week or two, depending on how much 
acation you've got coming. On return, 
break top glaze with a hammer and fish 
out ribs while wearing rubber gloves. 
Keep rubber gloves on while eating. Eat 
in bathing suit or old clothes you do not 
care about. 


Norman Mailer won Pulitzer Prizes 
for The Armies of the Night and The 
Executioner’s Song. His other works in- 
«lude The Naked and the Dead, Barbary 
Shore and The Deer Park. 


STUFFED MUSHROOMS 


You chop the stems, squeeze as much 
water out of them as you can, which is 
the trickiest part of the whole dish. You 
have to use dish towels and do it again 
and again. Then sauté the chopped 
mushroom with onions very finely 
chopped, shallots (if you have them) and 
а good amount of garlic. I give no pro- 
portions in this, because it's thc sort of 
dish that must be cooked to the tempei 
ment of the chef. The sautéing, inci 
dentally, must be done with a lavish use 
of quarter-pound sticks of sweet butter. 

When it’s all going nicely, grate in 
fresh nutmeg, quite a bit, and a good 
amount of black pepper. Then set aside 
to cool. Indeed, you can do beuer than 
that and set it in the refrigerator. This 
is not only for ease in handling but I 
swear it improves the flavor. 

Belore the caps are stuffed, brush the 
tops with butter and bake them on a 
Пас dish for five minutes. Then fill them 
with cold stuffing and sprinkle them 
with a mix of bread crumbs, a bit of 
cinnamon, salt, pepper, mustard powder 
and grated lemon peel, all of which 
makes a heavy dust on top of the stuffed 
mushrooms. Then put it in and bake 
for five minute: 

Remove. That's 


Willie Morris is the author of North 
Toward Home, Yazoo, The Last of the 
n Girls, James Jones: A Friend- 
d Terrains of the Heart. 


BIRCH SOCIETY BEANS 
(Serves 30-35) 


jo 


‘These beans are so named because of 


the intense internal reaction they pro- 
duce. Once you master their basics, you 
can enhance them with all sorts of 
things. The imagination must be given 
sovercign reign. As they say about win- 
ning football teams, these beans have 
momentum. Some endow them with aph- 
rodisiacal nuances, while others deem 
them unimpeachable for hangovers 
Now that I live again in my native 
Mississippi, I serve them on New Year's 
Eve, as І did in the North, for my beans 
evoke the nostalgia of sorrow, memory 

nd belonging. 
Serve these wonderful beans once and 
the compliments of your guests will echo 

in your heart. 

$ sticks butter or margarine 

As many fresh country sausages as you 
can afford (Polish sausage will suf- 
fice if absolutely necessary; wieners 


will do, too. As a matter of fact, add. 
a dozen wieners to this recipe any- 
way) 

4 large onions 

8 large green peppers 


3 or 4 jalapeno peppers (fresh or 
canned) 

2 dozen mushrooms (fresh. if poss 

if not, 3 cans) 

6 or more hard-boiled eggs 

3 cans water chestnuts 

5 big cans peeled tomatoes 

1 dozen strips of bacon 

19 cans, regular-sized, barbecue beans 

(preferably Campbell’ 

"Tabasco 

Worcestershire sauce 

A lot of chili powder 

Salt, pepper 

One jar molasses 

15 slices of cheese (preferably cheddar, 

but any kind will work, except 
gruyére and camembert) 

Put all three sticks of butter at the 
bottom of an extremely large cooking 
pot As the butter melts, throw in the 
sausages and wieners, both well sliced. 
Sauté until brow 

Throw in the onions, green peppers, 
jalapeno peppers and mushrooms (all 
finely sliced). Allow these to sauté so 
they will soak into the sausages and 
wieners. 

Put in the hard-boiled eggs, sliced. 
Start mixing about now. Add the water 
chestnuts, well diced. Then toss in the 
canned, pecled tomatoes. Add the strips 
of bacon, which also need to be sliced. 
Let them sauté with the other things. 
all the barbecue beans, juice 
Stir again vigorously for a long 


ble: 


time. Make sure the beans get well 
tegrated with the previous ingredients. 
Add large quantities of Tabasco, Worces- 
tershire and chili powder. In fact, use 
more chili powder than you think you 
should. Courage is needed at this point. 
Salt and pepper a great deal. Continue 
to stir every minute or so. 

Add the molasses, all of it at one time. 
Keep on stirring. Mix in even more chili 
powder. Allow all this to simmer over a 
low-to-medium fire on top of the stove 
for about 30 or 40 minutes. 

Spread the cheese slices all over the 
top of the beans. 

Place the whole pot in an oven heated 
to about 325°. Keep the beans there for 
about two hours. But if you do not take 
them out every now and then to stir, 
they will stick to the bottom of the pot. 

Just before serving, open the windows 
of your home. 


Joyce Carol Oates won a National 
Book Award for her novel Them. Among 
her other novels are With Shuddering 
Fall, Do with Me What You Will, The 
Assassins and Unholy Loves. She is also 
the author of a play, Daisy. 


THE CAREER WOMAN'S MEA 


1 can Campbell's soup (any va 
1 can opener 

1 saucepan 

] can water 

2 soup bowls 


George Plimpton is the founding edi- 
tor of The Paris Review. Among his 
works are Paper Lion, The Bogey Man, 
Mad Ducks and Bears and Shadow Box. 


DINTY MOORE BEEF STEW 


Years ago, to provide sustenance for 
those who came to parties in my loltlike 
digs looking out on the East River, I 
offered, well, vats of Dinty Moore Beef 
Stew. | say vats because there always 
seemed an awful lot of it, both before 
and after the parties. 


I can't remember how I decided on 
Dinty Moore Beef Stew. 


Perhaps it was 
n to years of nibbling on deli 
cate hors d'oeuvres at other people's 
paries—an — anti-water-cresssandwich 
syndrome. Of course, being a bachelor, 
itv ctical matter: 1 had 
the time or inclination to roll oddments 
around a toothpick or cut squares of 
nd decorate them with an in- 
al dollop of something or other 
on the top. To make and offer such 
things seemed an art to be compared 
with blowing glass or cracking diamonds. 
Dinty Moore Beef Stew was an answer. 
if a rather thunderous one. 

Open can. Do this by whatever means 
possible . .. even an ax will do. The 
without the contents emptied is un- 
ving at best, and I have never 


ac 


never 


Radar Clairvoyance 


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More than the basics 

Any self-respecting radar detector covers the basics. 
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ESCORT has a sixth sense for radar That's good 
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What makes this possible is, in a word, superheterodyne. 


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The superheterodyne technique was invented in 1918 
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All this performance makes things interesting. When 


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Nice extras 

ESCORT has a few extras that make owning it even 
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Another nice thing about owning an ESCORT is that 
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Second opinions 

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BMWCCA ROUNDEL The volume control has a 
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want the best, this is it. There is nothing else like it 
PLAYBOY ESCORT radar detectors .. (are) 


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PENTHOUSE ..."ESCORT's performance stood out 
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for your postage costs to return it. No obligation 


How to order—It's easy 
To order, nothing could be simpler. Just send 
five things to the the address below. Your name 
and address, How many ESCORTs and Visor 
Clips you want. Any special shipping instruc- 
tions. Your phone number. And a check. 


Fam 
| VISA 
Visa and Mastercard tuyers may substitute 
their credit card number and expiration date for 


the check. Or call us toll Iree and save the trip 
1o the mail box. Order today. 


CALL TOLL FREE. . . . 800-543-1608 


IN OHIO CALL. . .. ... 513-772-3700 
ESCORT $245.00 
($1103 Ohio res. tax) 

Visor Clip. $7.00 
(5032 Chio res. tax) 
CINCINNATI 
MICROWAVE 


* Department 307 
255 Northland Boulevard 
Cincinnati, Ohio 45246 


PLAYBOY 


180 anything the sume way tw 


heard of anyone even trying it, 

Pour contents into pan and heat. One 
of the things to remember about Dinty 
Moore Beef Stew is that it never changes 
its basic look, It looks the same in the 
can, in the saucepan, on the plate and 
dumped into the garbage. It doesn't 
surprise onc—like the abrupt rise or fall, 
s the case of a soufflé. It doesn't 
transform itself from one thing into an- 
other—like an honest egg into the 
jumbled contusion of an ill-made omelet. 
It doesn't even change color—ike a 
lobster. Or crack and pop like dry cereal. 
Steam rises [rom Dinty Moore Beef 
Stew when it is heated—that is all! 

Serve. One can of Dinty Moore Beef 
Stew serves about 100. The reason for 
this interesting ratio is that guests don't 
usually like the looks of the dish, at least 
the y I make it. They circle it, like 
dogs circle a porcupine. 

Garnitures. For very grand part 
some authorities surround the Dinty 
Moore Beef Stew with a ring of rice— 
the over-all effect on the serving platter 
not unlike that of a whitewall jeep tire. 

Plates. The china or iron var iety is the 
best. Dinty Moore Beef Stew heaped on 
à paper plate will turn that substance 
to the consistency and resilience of a 
tissue handkerchief, Even the stoutest 
cardboard will bend almost instantly un- 
der the heft of a helping of the stew. 

One Jast word about serving Dinty 
Moore Beef Stew at a cocktail party. I 
used to serve baguettes along with the 
stew—long loaves of French bread that 
stuck out of a wicker wastepaper basket 
like baseball bats, These were for break- 
ing apart and for spooning up the gravy 
off the iron plates, if one were inclined 
to do so. Now I find it preferable to 
offer soft, pliable, newly baked loaves 
rather than the stiff, rock-hard variety 
l once used until, well, the incident. 
This occurred when two guests—appar- 
cntly inflamed by the sight, once again, 
of Dinty Moore Beef Stew steaming 
stolidly on the sideboard—went after me 
with the nearest implements at hand; 
namely, those rock-hard baguettes, rather 
like the bladder-wielding scene in Tann- 
häuser. Those things snap, with sharp 
cracks, when they hit the noggin, and 
they leave pebble-hard crumbs on the 
floor that are extremely painful under- 
foot. Better the soft variety. 


Tom Robbins has served as copy writ- 
er for the Richmond Times-Dispatch 
nd The Seattle Times. His works in- 
clude Another Roadside Attraction, 
Even Cowgirls Get the Blues and Still 
Life with Woodpecker. 


zoor 
(or, ZUKES NOT NUKES) 

I cook by vibration and seldom make 
which 


means I can do no more than ез 
measurements. This smacks of futi 
but ГЇЇ wy to explain how I prepare 
Zoop. 

Several fresh zucchini 

Milk 

Butter 

Cheddar cheese 

Lemon pepper 

Steam zucchini in chunks. While zukes 
are steaming, warm the milk. Amount of 
milk depends on what consistency you 
like your zoop, thick or thin. Put butter, 
at least one third stick, in heating milk 
and allow to melt. When zucchini begins 
to become tender (don't overcook!), re- 
move from heat and place in blender. 
Add warm buttered milk. Blend. Pour in 
large mixing bowl and stir in grated 
cheese and lemon pepper to taste. Serve 
mediately. For a special occasion, such 
as your wedding night, you may add a 
can of chopped clams, nectar and all. 
This dish is extremely fast to prepare, 
it's quite inexpensive, it's nutritious, 
morc delicious than it sounds—and the 
color is gorgeous. 


mate 


Irwin Shaw played quarterback for the 
Brooklyn College Kingsmen in the carly 
Thirties. He is the author of many short 
stories, including The Eighty Yard Run 
and The Girls in Their Summer Dresse: 
Among his other works are The Young 
Lions, Rich Man, Poor Man, Evening in 
Byzantium and The Top of the Hill. 


ITALIAN DELIGHT. 


First hire a small, dark Tuscan Jady. 
Accompany her ceremoniously into the 
kitchen. Make no suggestions. Leave the 
kitchen. Make a martini. Stir well. Drink 
slowly. Wait. The results are invariably 
successful. 


Red Smith is sports columnist for the 
New York ‘Times Syndicate, He won a 
Puliver Prize in 1976 for his commen- 
lary. His books include Out of the Red, 
Views of Sport and Strawberries in the 
Wintertime: The Sporting World of Red 
Smith, 


JIM MOORE'S BOTLED-BAKED POTATOES 


At Jim Moore's restaurant in New 
York, known widely as Dinty Moore's, I 
got the recipe for his boiled-bz 
toes. I went home (to subu 
phia in those days). “You'll love these,” 
1 told my wife. 

“You cmpty a nickel bag of salt into a 
kettle of water,” I said. 

You can't get a nickel bag of salt,” 
1. 


she 
“All right," I said. "You empty a ten- 
cent bag of salt into” 
“You can't get it in a bag," she said. 
“You empty a ten-cent box of salt into 
a kettle of water," I said. 


“A whole box of salt?" she said. 

T said, "Never mind. I'll do it. 

Jim Moore had told me to boil the 
potatoes seven to eight minutes in the 
heavily salted water, then e them. I 
did, but I used a Jl aluminum kettle 
and all the water boiled away swiftly, 
leaving the potatoes g bath 
of wet cement. I kept adding water, final- 
ly baked them and they were delicious. 


William Styron won a Pulitzer Prize 
as well as an American Academy and 
Institute of Arts and Letters Howells 
Medal, for The Confessions of Nat 
Turner. Among his other works are Lie 
Down in Darkness, The Long March and 
Sel This House on Fire. His most recent 
novel is Sophie's Choice. 


A CLAM CHOWDER 


FLORENCE BASS'S VIRGI 


ig up in Tidewater 
s an ample and 


When I was grow 
Virginia, our cook w: 


cheery black lady named Florence Bass, 


whose genius resided in the way she 
could take an essentially Northern dish 
and by a subtle Southern touch trans- 
mute it into something extraordinary. 

48 cherry-stone (medium-size) clams 

4 cups water 

2inch square (or equivalent) slice of 

slab bacor ably Virginia or 
North 

2 large onions, chopped very fine 

4 medium unpeeled potatoes, diced to 

the size of small sugar cubes 

Freshly ground black pepper 

3 cups milk 

Place clams after washing into a large 
pot, along with the water. Cover and 
bring to a boil and simmer until clams 
open, 10-15 minutes. Let clams cool in 
the water and their own juice, retaining 
both. This is a good time to dice the 
bacon (into v5-inch pieces), to peel and 
chop the onions and to dice the pota- 
toes. Remember that un peeled. potatoes, 
besides being more nutritious, give better 
taste. A food processor is am excellent 
onion chopper. Placing the potatoes in 
the julienne disc of a processor, then 
roughly chopping with a knife, is an easy 
method and gives them a fine consistency. 

In the bottom of another large pot, 
fry the diced bacon over medium heat, 
allowing grease to accumulate at the 
bottom of the pot. Add the minced 
onion and sauté well but not enough to 
brown. 

Open dams, which by now should be 
cool enough to handle. Be careful to re- 
tain all residual juice to add to the pot. 
Chop clams medium fine with knife or 
in food processor, which is much faster. 
Add these clams and all of the retained 
juice to the bacon-onion mixture in 
second pot. Bring to a boil and then 
simmer for ten m 

Add the diced potatoes, bring to a 


utes. 


boil and simmer for 15 minutes more. 
While simmering, add freshly ground 
black pepper in copious amounts. Flor- 
ence went heavy on the pepper, and it 
really makes a difference. She never used 
salt; there is enough in the juice. 

Add the milk, which has been brought 
barely to the boil. Stir well and serve. 
This chowder improves with age and 
after а day or two in the refrigerator is 
at its peak. In the proportions described, 


it should serve eight to ten as a main 
course. 


Calvin Trillin is a staff writer for The 
New Yorker. His works include U.S. 
Journal, American Fried: Adventures of 
a Happy Eater and Runestruck, a novel. 


CALVIN TRILLIN'S SCRAMBLED EGGS 
THAT STICK TO THE PAN 
EVERY TIME 
This is my only dish. I turn it out 
every schoo] morning for my two daugh 
ters. They hate it. 


Milk, if you can find it (back behind 
the lettuce, hidden by the shadow of 
the Chinese takeout leftovers) 

Butter 

Burn the butter while looking for 

sandwich bread for lunch or discussing 
ribollavin content of various cereals. 


Apologize to daughters for your lan- 
guage. Put a little milk (if you can find 
it) with the eggs and scramble away until 
youre afraid the butter might burn 
n. Shove the eggs around in the pan 
until you remember that the toast is 
about to burn. Turn back to the eggs, 
which by this time have stuck to the pan. 

Serve with burned toast and wan smile 


Eudora Welty is the author of 4 Cur- 
tain of Green, Losing Battles, Delia 
Wedding and The Optimist's Daughter. 
Among her honors are a Pulitzer Prize 
and a National Institute of Arts and 
Letters Gold Medal. 


CHARLES DICKENS’ EGGNOG 


This is the eggnog we always started 
Christmas Day off with. I have the recipe 
my mother used, though she always re- 
ferred to it as Charles Dickens’ recipe. 

6 egg yolks, well beaten 

3 tablespoons powdered sugar, sifted 

1 cup bourbon 

1 pint whipped cream 

6 egg whites, whipped into peaks but 

not dry 

Nutmeg, if desired 

Add the powdered sugar gradually to 
the beaten egg yolks. Add the bourbon a 
little at a time to the mixture. Add the 


and the beaten 


whipped cream cag 


whites, folding gently in. Chill. Serve in 
silver cups with a little grated nutmeg 


on top, if desired. 


Tom Wolfe is the author of The Elec- 
tric Kool-Aid Acid Test, The Painted 
Word and The Right Stuff. 


THE TEN-O'CLOCK COMPOTE 


Im not much of a cook. 
accomplishment in the kitchen has been 
my breakfast dish, which I cat 310 morn- 
ings cach year. 

The night before, put the contents of 
two bags of Mariana Extra Fancy dried 
apricots, a can of pitted prunes and a 
box of golden seedless raisins into a big 
bowl, Fill with water, add half of a lem 
on and a tablespoonful of sugar and let 
it stand overnight. In the morning, bring 
it to a boil and let it simmer for 10 or 15 
minutes. Take out a cereal bowl and put 


My one 


about three tablespoons of roasted wheat 


germ in the bottom, Now spoon in six or 


seven apricots and prunes and garnish 
with the r 
layer of Alpen cereal. Then a light layer 
of 100 percent bran cereal. Add milk. 
Save the rest of the compote in the re- 


aisins. On top of this put a 


frigerator [or tomorrow . . . and tomor- 


and tomorrow 


Tow. 


DENIM 


For the man who doesn’t 
have to try too hard. 


He doesn't have to. Things come easy for 
the man who wears DENIM?” Because 
a man feels better. A man feels cooler. 


A whole new feeling in 
Cologne and After Shave. 


© ЭВО Lever Brothers Company 


DARING SPORTSMEN 


(continued from page H2) 


“What Kirke had his eye on was nothing less than 
the world’s highest suspension bridge.” 


PLAYBOY 


the worst shape of all. He also takes 
pride in the fact that while dimbing 
Kilimanjaro, he went straight to the 
19,000-foot summit without missing a 


stride, while his young companions 
wheezed and gasped their way from be- 
hind. 


‘The secret of his stamina and of his 
remarkable ability to survive the un- 
survivable is neither training nor any 
particular talent but a psychological 
toughness that produces unparalleled 
performances through the sheer force of 
his will. Kirke assumes he will survive 
nd, believing it, he does. With heroes 
of the era of the amateur—with m 
like Scott in the antarctic and Stanley in 
Alrica—he shares a mental 
ion that enables him to endure horren- 
k dearly in the 
most disconcerting of crises, "Everyone 
has a certain level of anxiety," he says. 
“I direct my mo the events 1 


determi 


dous pain and to th 


Maybe so, but to the 1 ob- 
server, Kirke's behavior is not as calm 
as he claims. А man who prefers ex- 
tremes in every aspect of life, Kirke 
replaces the d S army coat 
id safety pins each evening with an 
equally battered black tic and tails. He 
throws a succession of extravagant par- 
ties that seems to keep him stylishly in 
the hole. It ultimately be more 
te to s Kirke's 
the safety valve for anxieti pre- 
occupations that are larger than life. 

But whatever the cause. there can be 


in Kirke's eyes had in 
full-fledged оп 
us sportsmen and a 


nization of 
sorted hang- 


With the trio of Baker. Weston 


"cing forming the core of the 
ound Kirke. the sportsmen were 
ning to stir interest in wider circles. 
nce their personal resources were rap 
idly dwindling and their schemes grow- 
g exponentially more expensive. that 
was а very good thing. Late in 1978, they 
enlisted the support of an independent 
film-production co ad the BBC 
for off Mu 
Kiliman 
to master the sport, of course, but his 
woth talking and confident air con. 


on 


need the men holding the purse sirings 
that he was champion 
The expedition served to clinch 


Kirke's status as a legend among the 
cognoscenti and, at the same time, 
192 proved a disaster for the BBC. Loaded 


down with hang-gliding apparatu: 
plies and the obli, 


sup- 
ory formalwear, two 


of Kirke's companions abandoned the 


attempt during the tortuous ascent. 
Weston, the only experienced hang glid- 
er in the group. got to the top but 
crashed on take-off, destroying his glider 
and injuring his ankle. Keeling, mean- 
e, managed a take-off, then bou; 
wil off the mountainside, 
d and then screamed back 
toward earth in a nylon and metal-tubed 
power dive leftward. The BBC captured 
approximately 12 seconds of filmed 


douds. But what was the end of a short 
film clip best forgotten by the BBC was 
only the beginning for Kirke. Once en- 
veloped by clouds, he continued to fly 
through the mist without a compass or 
an altimeter, eventually coming in for 
а gentle landing on a coffee plantation 
25 miles away. 

‘The Kilimanjaro exploit proved to be 
а crucial w i 


cohesiveness of the group and, symbolic 
of that new clubbiness. an official club 
tie (a silver wheelchair on black back- 
ground). It also established the dub as 
darling—and, just as important, 
convinced the sporismen that anything 
they did was a media event. Kirke con- 
tinued to indulge a mania for secrecy 
about preparations for the groups 
events, but he was increasingly receptive 
10 the idea of coverage once the events 
were under way, particularly if that 
meant money. And, finally, it was Kili 
manjaro that first prompted him to 
speculate seriously about what was to 
become the club's most spectacular un 
dertaking—a 
ancient. pube: 
suitable Lor m. 


modern vii 


tion on an 
y ritual that would be 
s media coverage 

e's new scheme actually 
tives in the highlands of New 
nea who, in a strange rite of pas- 
sage, tie springy vines to their ankles, 
As they hurdle 
st toward the ground, the vine 
snaps them to a mind-jolting halt just 
inches from the forest floor, Kirke and 
Baker replaced the jungle vines with 
astic bungee cord, similar to the straps 
used to hold books on the back of a 
bicycle but strong enough to bring super- 
sonic jet fighters to a stop on the decks 
of aircraft carriers. And it would not be 
jungle tees the sportsmen would leap 
from but high bridges—preferably over 
rivers. 


Kir 


pril Fools’ Day, 
was from one of England's highest 
sion bridges, the 245-foot Clifton 
One end of the 
ridge, the other 
to an improvised harness designed by 
Keeling and Weston. With champagne 
toasts, Kirke, Weston, Keeling and Tim 
Hunt—younger brother of champion 
racecar driver James Hunt—all stepped 
off. Like tuxedo-clad yo-yos, the danger- 
ous sportsmen dropped the full length 
of their cords. stretched another 100 feet 
waterward and bounced back up nearly 
200 feet; then it was down and up and 
down again, in bounces of decreasing 
magnitude, until they hung, limp but 
ecstatic. 120 feet below the bridge. It 
was only after Weston had popped the 
cork on the celebratory champagne he'd 
carried along on the leap that the re- 
maining members of the party hauled 
them back up to the bridge 

Arrested and photographed, the sports- 

men had achieved both of their ob- 
jectives: They had garnered national 
publicity and all four jumpers were 
ve, which proved their new sport 
could be played. After another trial leap 
that October from the Golden Gate 
Bridge in San Francisco, Kirke decided 
they were ready for the big time. 
t he had his eye on was nothing 
a the world’s highest suspension 
bridge. Like a toothpick slung across a 
funnel, the 1260-foot Royal Gorge Bridge 
spans that gorge over the Arkan 
River just outside Canon City, Color 
The gap. which is 
the top, narrows to less than 60 feet at 
the base. Without even having seen the 
bridge, the sportsmen were eager to 
jump from it. Keeling and Weston got to 
work on their computations. After much 
they unced th. 
gee cord 415 fect long, with Kirke at- 
tached, could be expected to stretch at 
least that distance again: Kirke would be 
subjected to a force of five gs and would 
pass out on the rebound. 

Kirke was intrigued, “This will require 
total control, mental and physi 
you won't know the result until у 
wake up. How excellent!” he exclaimed. 
ЛЕ you do everything correctly up to 
the point you pass out, then you'll sur- 
vive, but if you don't—if you make a 
mistake—then you'll die not even feel- 
ing your own death." But even as they 
ndulged in that kind of existential 
reflection and no 
ipping up the publicity and the 
side of the expedition 
ack in early 1980, That's Incredible!, 
the now-notorious ABC show that special- 
izes in videotaping self inflicted mutila- 
tion for mass consumption, had a lot less 
to its discredit than it does now. Kirke 
was convinced that anything called 
That's Incredible! simply had to need 


suspe 
Bridge in Bristol. 
bungee was tied to th 


bi 


deliber: 


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An exciting trip to 
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OFFICIAL RULES—NO PURCHASE NECESSARY 

1. On official entry form, or plain piece of paper, по 
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8015 liqueur or brandy os an ingredient. Include. 
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3. Entries will be judged and finalists selected under 
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‘on independent judging organization. Winners will 
be selected from among the finalists by a qualified 
expert in the field. Judging will be based оп: origi- 
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—(0-20 points); taste appeal—(0-20 point: 
preparation—(0-20 points); availability of ingredients 
—(0-10 points). Recipes moy be judged without 
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individual or family. Prizes moy not be exchanged ar 


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опу entry. Decision of the judges is final. 

4, Each entry must be original work of contestant. 
Judges moy disqualify recipes known fo have been 
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1o execute affidavit of eligibility and release. 

5. Entries become property of Erven Lucas Bols Distill- 
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6. Contest open to residents of US. except employees 
ond their fornilies of Brown-Forman, Inc. ils subsidi- 
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‘are people involved in preparation 
or serving of mixed drinks as a 
profession. Void wherever taxed, 
prohibited or restricted by law. 
Toxes cre responsibilty of individuol 
winners. 

7. You must be of legal drinking 
age in your home state as of Aug. 
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ners, send stomped, self-addressed 
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OFFICIAL ENTRY FORM 
| Please Print Cleary: 


[State س‎ 
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| 
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eee 


PLAYBOY 


194 


his kind of adventure. As it turned out. 
he was right. 

Kirke and the producers agreed on an 
$18,000 fee to fill the club's coffers. Fill 
them, that is, so they could be emptied 
again. For the spirit of the club, 
Kirke ordained that every cent of the 
take would be spent on the jump itself 
and associated celebration. 

The television company scheduled the 
filming for March sixth 
three jumpers, Kirke decided to do it his 
way or not at all. He insisted on flying 
over as many of the dub members as 
wanted to go, and most of them con- 
verged on London first for a preflight 
From Paris 
a shy young mu 
vas to be the jump's ollicial p 
id came ex-Oxonian Anthony 
Sophia. Oxford 
ielded Murphy's brother Rob, Kir 
nd me—an experienced. rock-climber, 
in charge of tying the bungee cord: 


Finally, tired and drunk from their 
ous preliminary celebrations, the 
party converged on San Francisco fivc 


before the scheduled jump. Weston 
was to meet up with the crew at the 
. but Paul Foulon, Weston's 
stepbrother and the group's second 
American, drove down [rom Portland in 
his pickup—bringing with him the 
bungees used in the Golden Gate jump 
the ycar before. 
very event may be my last," Kirke 
declared, before we set out for Colora 
in a convoy consisting of a white 
lac convertible, two small trailers 
the pickup. "Festivity is required. If 
g goes wrong, the party must 
celebrate life, not mourn death. 
A parody of a motorcade, the I 
ous Sports caravan weaved, skidded and 
ted the law at an average of 70 
miles per hour across the Great Ameri 
can West, white Cadillac in the lead, 
packed to the brim with silly-looking 
weirdos in ties and tails. To the un- 
ed. the convoy itself looked like 
ngerous sport: $1980 worth of liquor 
stowed in the trunk, all being pumped 
with indecent haste into the already 
saturated livers of Bri s sickest and 
strangest, who even in England could 
not be ed on to find the right side of 
the road. 
No one slept, of course, for total 
party required total commitment. Be- 
sides, if the revelers tried to sleep, they 
ight actually pass out, and given the 
alcohol diluting the blood of 
those Englishmen, it might be weeks be- 
fore they would see daylight again. After 
18 hours of coi king, the 
Dangerous Sports Club pulled into the 


ger- 


truck stop in Ely, Nevada, at six o'clock 
in the morning. The boys tightened their 
1 swaggered im. Forty-five 


truckers’ jaws dropped into sedimented 
cups of coffee. Warily, the waitress ap- 
proached. Kirke smiled his evil smile, 


while all eyes bulged expectantly. Antho- 
ny Murphy, part of the supporting cast, 
pped dilfidently forward. Dressed in a 
r jacket with tails, he 
peered benevolently at the permanent- 
waved waitress. "Excuse me, but can you 
tell me, how viscous i 


your porridge 
Later that day, as we crosed into 
Utah, a storm blew in, and how the Brits 


loved it! Windows rolled up, 
zero, we fishtailed wildly down the in- 
visible road—40 miles an hour on a 
skating rink you couldn't even sec! T 
danger fit [or dangerous men, 
they reveled in every bit of it. With pu 
lic school voices jabbering at cocktail- 
party levels, the drunken caravan roared 
on into the dark, a meteor of the English 
upper class burning insanely across the 
snowdrilts of the American desert. 

We arrived in Canon City, 14 miles 
outside Royal Gorge, one day before the 
jump. Up to that point, the club had 
been a bit worried about how seriously 
That's Incredible! was going to take its 
sport. One look at producer Alan Lands- 
ions and all were r 
sured. In addition to a dozen cameramen, 
a helicopter had been rented for some 
I shots. Eying the chopper wistfully, 
id, “There may be some tangible 
benefits from this tele: 
alter all. Perhaps I could persuade them 
to let me go with their helicopter. 
the boys took a look 
around—and down. Standing atop the 
wind-swept bridge, 1053 feet above what 
looked like a pencil linc of river, the dub 
looked for the first time just the slightest 
bit pensive. It was a long way down. 

No time for regrets now, thought 
Kirke, and he took the rest of the Brits 
olf for early-alternoon drinks among the 
natives of Canon City, while the two 
Americans on the team set to work tyi 
¢ cords that would be used in the 
next day's jump. 

It was a tricky business. In p 
jumps, Kirke had explained, to my hor- 
hey had used seven-millimeter vacht- 
pe and overhand knots to secure 
the bungee cord to the bridge. With that 
sort of knot tying, the jumpers would 
have about a 50 percent chance of drop- 
ping directly into the river below. So we 
spent eight hours constructing a line 
from two strands of 17-millimeter bun- 
gee cord, then tying the line into a 
carefully designed. mountaineering-rope 
anchor that would secure the cords while 
preventing a fatal, frictive rub between 
the bungee cord and the bridge. Meai 
while, a piano was rented for Gibbs. It 
began to look as though the event would 
come off. 

veryone was “quite keen” to be the 
first off the bridge. Kirke decided to 
have five jumpers leap simultaneously, 
on cords spaced evenly along the bridg: 
irke, in the middle, would be on a 41 
foot length. Weston and Hunt would 
flank him on 240-foot lengths, leaving 


ion company, 


on th 


jous 


ror, 


ing 


the outside positions for the novices 
(Foulon and me) on 120-foot cords. 

The b 
at the 


nd of 1000 fect of line, to within 
fect of the water, he would be 


»mensely widened pendulum 
The slightest breeze from the 
direction could blow him off 
ap him into a sheer granite 
30 feet away at the base. 


wrong 
course and s 
face only 
"Strawberry jam spread on rock" was 


Weston’s cheerful description of the 
probable result of an crror in his calcu- 
lations. 

Another problem was the force ol 
gravity, and, again, Kirke was to be 
most affected, Exactly how much force 
he would be exposed to if all went well, 
The Weston-Keel- 
ing estimate of five gs seemed plausible, 
but no one would have been su 


uts in their кт des 
ss out with a force of ten gs. No one 
anted to think what would happen if 
any of the jumpers was head-down when 
the g force built up. 

АЙ in all, 


this was unmistal 


one knew to precisely what length the 
bungee cords would stretch on a jump 
from this height. Moreover, no onc had 
really wied to find out. Not knowing. 
and not wanting to know, was what the 
club was all about. 

Our celebration lasted until three the 
next morning. The jump was planned 
for ht A.M., in order to m 
breezes that could turn Kirke 
pulp: but it wasn’t until nine that the 
first of the club staggered in, We q 
set up a portable bar right next to the 
nbulance thoughtfully provided by 
That's Incredible! Missing members of 
the club were pulled from bed at 11 
1 to dress for the 


into a 


ad, the copter blades chopped 


ominously, and a crowd started to gather. 


me-show 


cters dressed as 


the bridg 
than a hı 


у | had a 
drink and was promptly арро снай by 
the bridge authorities. They wanted him 
to sign forms relieving them of all re- 
sponsibility. His hand trembled as he 
took the pen. He had to steady himself 
belore he signed. No one had ever seen 
Kirke shake before. 

Looking down at the looped bungee 
cords dangling off the bridge and blow- 
ing gently in the wind, the sportsters 
were beginning to think quite seriously 

bout getting hurt, and to think especial- 
ly that if anyone were going to get hu 


it would very likely be Kirke. ing 
that Weston and Keeling had estimated 
that he would come within nine fect of 


the river, Kirke approached me and said, 
"Geoff, old man, I realize you have 


"Well, yes, it did raise its head, Mother, but it 
wasn't nearly as ugly as you described." 


PLAYBOY 


196 


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worked hard on the preparations, but 
is it still possible to extend my rope by 
four and a half feet? I'm quite keen to 
just touch the bottom before bouncing 
up.” When it was pointed out to him 
that he was likely to be unconscious, he 
decided to reconcile himself to the nine- 
foot margin. 

‘That settled, the club members wanted 
to enjoy a few leisurely drinks before 
the jump, but everyone else seemed im- 
patient. The television crew began to 
worry about whether or not the leap 
would take place at all. The ambulance 
crew fretted about the winds whipping 
up the canyon, which would throw the 
jumpers off course. And the tourists 
complained of the cold and began to 
call for the jumpers to hurry. Kirke was 
undaunted. Quieter than usual, he re- 
quested that his breakfast of eggs Bene- 
dict be lowered to him after he jumped. 
While Gibbs played appropriate bungee 
music on the piano, Kirke pondered 
how to keep the eggs warm on the 
descent. 

Finally, alter posing for a picture next 
to the ambulance, the group began to 
get ready. Beyond having a few more 
drinks, that involved my tying each of 
them into a full body harness and at- 
taching it to the bungee cord. The dub 
has a tradition of never checking its own 
knots, and only Foulon, who was wear- 
ing a cowboy hat with his tuxedo, was 
gauche enough to inspect his harness. 
Weston, dressed in a gray morning suit 
and club tie, seemed worried as he was 
secured to his bungee, calling for “more 
drink, please" He lit a large Havana 
cigar and puffed nervously while the 
others were readied. Next to be tied in 
was Hunt, who sported a black tux with 
tails and a gray top hat secured under 
his chin. 

Now, only minutes before leaping 
into the unknown, Kirke was moving 
slowly. Weston impatiently cried out, 
"Please get to your rope, David. I can't 
wait much longer. I have to jump off 
Soon." 

Kirke nodded and solemnly walked to 
the long cord in the middle. “Have a 
good one, old boy,” he called to Weston. 
As I tied him into his harness, he tried 
to light his pipe. but his hands shook 
too much to strike the match. Dressed in 
a black morning suit with tails, a black- 
velvet top hat and the club tie, he 
allowed one of the cameramen to assist 
him with a light. He quickly got control 
of himself and joked that the harness 
was too tight. “I really must go on a 
diet!” he exclaimed. With Gibbs at the 
piano setting the mood, I finished Kirke's 
knots and headed for my own rope. It 
was almost three o'clock. 

Walking from Kirke to my place at 
the side, I was struck by the reality of 
what I was about te do. Until that mo- 
ment, І had been so absorbed in the 


partying and preparations that I had 
not really worricd about iny own jump. 
Suddenly. there was nothing more | 
could do for the others. Now it was my 
ass out on the line. The sounds of classi- 
cal piano and helicopter blades were 
replaced in my ears by the pounding of 
my heart. I gave a final glance at my 
comrades, then I looked down. 

Nearly 1100 feet below, the river 
looked like a thread, The canyon walls 
seemed only inches apart. I trusted the 
bungee cords and the knots I had tied. 
I was the only one using a safety line— 
a security measure that Kirke considered 
highly unethical. Rationally, I knew I 
would be safe; yet I was gradually en- 
veloped by fear. I tried to calmly remind 
myself that I'd been subjected to more 
danger than this climbing vertical rock 
walls. Just as I began to regain control 
of my trembling body, I was interrupted 
by a cameraman who said, "Boy, aren't 
you afraid that there safety rope 
wrap around your neck as you bounce up 
and hang you as you fall back down?" 

1 hadn't been, but suddenly I was. My 
testicles quickly receded into the safety 
of my body. My entire groin tightencd. 
My mind raced incoherently. The others 
were already over the retaining fence. I 
clambered after them while my panicked 
brain screamed, “No!” 

For a moment. we paused on the 
farthest supports. It was reassuring, at 
least, to see how much farther Kirke's 
cord hung down into space, blowing 
gently at the limit of my n. АП 
sound ceased. Time stood still. Kirke 
raised his hand, signaled опе... two ... 
three, then stepped calmly into the air. 

I pushed off and my mind immedi- 
ately signaled, "Error!" Like 2 cartoon 
figure, I desperately tried to walk back 
to the bridge while hanging motionless 
in the air. Then I fell. 

My mind stopped. My heart stopped. 
The only thing moving was my body, 
free-falling into the void. My life be- 
came calm as I came to a gentle stop 
400 feet down—only to be catapulted 
violently skyward. Accelerating upward, 
totally out of control, I was elated. The 
bungee had held. I slowed to a stop 
again, now 50 feet below the bridge. 
Regaining body control, I was able to 
turn and sec the other jumpers. Foulon, 
at the far side, was at the same height 
I was. Far below, Weston was beginning 
his first upward bounce. Kirke was still 
falling, a dot disappearing in the abyss. 
I watched them all during my next de- 
scent, noting happily that no one had 
berry jam. | thoroughly 
enjoyed my last few bounces, trying 
several somersaults as I rose and fell. 

Soon we were all hanging like spiders, 
suspended between heaven and earth 
in a giant V. The television helicopter 
circled us and we waved to it and to one 
another, thumbs up all around. It was 


become stra 


now only a matter of waiting to be 
hoisted back up. Soon Hunt, Foulon, 
Weston and I were safely on the bridge. 
Foulon appropriately described the feel- 
ing for the television audience as "in- 
credible." 

Meanwhile, Кігке cord proved to 
be making it impossible to pull him 
up. For nearly three hours, he hung 
900 feet below us, without so much as 
an overcoat to protect him from the 
cold. With wind whipping up the can- 
yon and the temperature near freezing, 
we knew he was in considerable pain. 
The harness would be cutting off cir- 
culation to his legs. The medical crew 
began to worry. Finally, we found a way 
to bring him up by pulling the bungee 
with a tow truck. When he reached the 
bridge, Kirke's only concern was the 
whereabouts of his prized top hat and 
pipe, both of which had been lost in his 
struggle to remain upright, 

Kirke described the jump for the televi- 
sion cameras, saying such an experience 
“definitely gives one heightened appre- 
ciation for life.” Privately, he admitted 
a slight disappointment with the event. 
‘The Weston-Keeling estimates had been 
way off. He hadn't passed out and had 
stopped a good 100 feet short of the 
water. “Quite the worst of it was, I didn’t 
get a good bounce.” he said. “My cords 
stretched and stopped. The shorter 
jumps were definitely better sport." 

While the television crew disbanded, 
Gibbs and various of the sportsmen took 
turns jumping. And, as always, the party 
went on. 

For most of them, the Dangerous 
Sports Club is only an occasional diver- 
sion, so this was a rare event, to be 
savored and prolonged. Only Kirke has 
made the club a way of life, moving 
from one event to the next. Recently, 
he made the first motorized-hang-glider 
crossing of the English Channel, nonstop 
from London to Paris. Since the French- 
man Jean Marc Bovier surpassed Kirke's 
high-altitude hanggliding mark, Kirke 
has been trying to talk his way onto an 
expedition to the peak of Mt. Everest. 
“I shall hang glide off Everest by 1985," 
he predicts, “even if I must charter a 
helicopter to the summit.” He is also 
planning “an extremely festive outing” 
for his friends in a padded school bus 
floating over Niagara Falls. His top 
priority, however, is to set the world 
free-fall record by parachuting from a 
helium balloon at 130,000 feet. It will 
require a pressurized suit to keep his 
blood from boiling and a temperature- 
control device to prevent his freezing in 
space or burning up on re-entry to the 
atmosphere. Weston and Keeling are 
already at work on the designs. 


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PLAYBOY 


198 


SOUTHEASTERN CONFERENCE 


(continued from page 119) 


€ ыс Шы ш MOT eee 
"We have reports of amorous events on college diving 


boards, on a trampolin and on the golf course.” 
ڪڪ ا ي ي ي‎ 


virgins” are few and far between. (A 
common-law virgin is a law or prelaw 
student who is too busy studying to do 
much of anything else.) 

Quite a few Southeastern ladies say 
they sometimes go out looking specif- 
ically for sex, and those who do report 
а 75 percent success rate. Rumor has it 
that groups of concerned campus gentle- 
men are trying to get in touch with them 
to attain the 100 percent ideal. 

As for sexual inventiveness, S.E.C. 
coeds are electrifyingly Edisonian, and 
any suggestion that they're still old. 
fashioned is patently ridiculous. We've 
categorized some of their turn-ons, and 
we've given them heads as follow: 

FIELDS oF PLAY: Not only do most girls 
list the jock as the campus character 
they're physically attracted to but a great 
many of them recall athletes and athletic 
surroundings as the settings [or their 
most uncommon sexual experiences. A 
number of the ladies admit to an inter- 
est in dominating athletic men, which, 
we suppose, would make them jock 
satraps. 

An Alabama girl tells of making love 
one night on the football field in coach 
Bryant's own Denny Stadium, and one 
has to feel sorry for the throngs who 
showed up the next afternoon and got to 
sce only a football game. While we're 
on the subject of crowds, another coed 
reports being in the act of performing 
fellatio on a young man in a sailboat 
when а passenger-laden houseboat drew 


up alongside. The passengers cheered, 
our heroine continued, and the passen- 
gers cheered some more. All of this got 
quite a rise out of the young man, but 
has all blown over by now. 

We have reports of amorous events on 
college diving boards, on a trampolin 
in the gym (did the earth bounce for 
you, too?) and of afternoon intercourse 
on the golf course, A Tennessee girl 
volunteered to join her gentleman on 
the wack at the university. It was late 
at night, but there were still joggers 
puffing past. She says the runners 
"couldn't see us, because it was dark, 
but they would have had to be deaf not 
to hear us.” She doesn't say whether or 
not her partner was a broad jumper. 

SOMETHING'S BURNING: There was a 
night not long ago when a Florida lass 
sneaked her boyfriend into the dorm. 
"We were in the middle of an out- 
rageous orgasm," she says, "when there 
was a fire drill.” Everything turned out 
all right, though. Her boyfriend got out 
in ume. 

A 23-year-old LSU Tigress was staying 
with her Tiger in Baton Rouge's Prince 
Murat motel. During the latter stages of 
their encounter, the bed next to theirs 
caught fire, She took it as a sign from 
God, she reports, and wouldn't allow 
any morc internal combustion. 

MISTAKEN IDENTITY: Another young 
Florida woman reports having had sex 
with a man who, she found out later, was 
not who she thought he was. It hap- 


pened between doses of Quazludes, and 
she'll always remember it as а strange 
interlude. 

Then there's the S.E.C. girl who got 
into a threesome with identical twins. 
She had trouble telling which was which, 
because they undressed the same way. 

MULTIPLE CHOICE: Some Southeastern 
coeds are partial to threesomes. They 
have particularly enjoyed them in gas- 
station rest rooms, in fraternity hot tubs, 
in graveyards at night, with a friend and 
his wife, with a friend and his friend. 
One reports fourplay, with a friend and 
his friend and his friend. “Going to sleep 
with onc partner and waking up with 
another, and having the sex be even 
better in the morning” is favored by one 
of our respondents. 

ош AND ENDs: One coed picks "sex 
with a group of both gay and straight 
men” as her most memorable evening, 
Another believes you can't beat a lesbian 
encounter. “Making it with one man 
while another watches" has rung a few 
belles, and being fellated in the front 
row at a Beach Boys concert stunned 
one S.C. lady's date, leaving him beg. 
ging for an encore. 

A Georgia Bulldog girl writes that her 
most oulré experience was "sex in the 
aisle of an all-night grocery store. The 
chance of getting caught made it excit- 
ing. 

Performing oral sex in a hot-air bal- 
loon over Cincinnati's River Downs and 
Riverfront Stadium was most elevating 
for yet another Florida miss; and being 
roped to a four-poster water bed was 
bound to be memorable for a South- 
eastern girl who's all tied up with bond- 
age. "S/M is an interesting mix of pain 
and pleasure, fear and anger,” she wrote. 

DOPEY SEX AT DISNEY WORLD: By no 
means dwarfed by the others, this is our 
personal favorite. An LSU lady tells us 
she "got horny smoking marijuana" 
while she and her partner were at Disney 
World in Orlando. They must have got- 
ten bored with Cinderella’s Castle and 
the Hall of Presidents, because they 
bought tickets for the monorail and 
made love on the ride across the park. 
And that, as they say in the South, 
sounds like a rail good time. 

"Thats the last reel of our picture 
show. We hope you cotton to the girls 
of the sunny Southeast, who prove that 
the American beauty still flowers from 
Knoxville to Gainesville, from Athens 
to Auburn. If you've been planning to 
spend some time below the Mason-Dixon 
line but are afraid you've missed out 
on all the sexual adventures our rebel- 
rousers have becn telling us about, don't 
worry. We have it on the best authority 
that the South shall writhe again. 


PLAYBOY 


200 


KINDESTICU TS) 


(continued from page 115) 


“Beards and mustaches can accent a man’s best fea- 


tures and camouflage his w 


eaknesses.” 


shaving is better than the other, except 
for those with problem skins that de- 
mand electric razors. Most men's wet- 
shaving ritual begins with water. Good 
old H,O is still the key to a close, com- 
fortable shave, as beard hairs are casiest 
to cut when they are softened and 
cleaned by scrubbing with warm water. 

After a splash of cold water to close 
the pores and tighten the skin, next 
come the shaving creams, gels, foams, 
lathers and soaps. No matter what prod- 
uct you usc, match it to your skin type. 
Dry skin requires a lubricant rich in oils 
and emollients without a high soap con- 
tent. Oily skin requires a product low in 
oil and high in soap. Almost all shaving 
foams and lathers are a mix of four basic 
ingredients: soap, humectant (moisture 
agent), oil and scented or unscented 
emollient. Pick the product that's right 
for you. 

Razor technology has gone far beyond 
the days of a straight razor that needed 
to be constantly resharpened. It was 
King Gillette who revolutionized shaving 
in 1903, when he introduced the safety 


razor with a disposable blade. Since then, 
other companies have joined in the shav- 
ing market: Schick, Wilkinson, Ameri- 
can Safety Razor and Bic. And with 
technological advances, the razor market 
continues to change. 

Having washed your face, splashed on 
cold water, applied shaving cream and 
picked a razor, only the act of shaving 
remains. Allow the shaving cream to 
settle into your skin for 30 seconds. Then 
rinse the blade in warm water. (Hot wa- 
ter is dangerous, since it expands the 
metal blade and can cause a warped, 
irregular cutting edge.) Start shaving 
the side of your face while the shaving 
cream continues to soften the denser 
beard growth around your chin and lips. 
Shave down with the grain of your beard. 
"The razor should be kept free of shaving 
cream and cut whiskers by rinsing after 
each stroke. Use your free hand to pull 
the skin tight for a close shave. After 
finishing the sides of the face, shave the 
arca around your lips and chin. Finally, 
shave your neck area (remember, neck 
hairs tend to grow in more than one 


direction). For the smoothest shave pos- 
sible, relather and reshave, this time 
against the grain. 

After shaving, your skin will be sensi- 
tive and dry. While many popular after- 
shaves refresh the skin with fragrance 
and a bracing sting. those products are 
heavy in alcohol and astringent content. 
If your skin is dry, try a. product. that 
replaces lost moisture. After-shave balms 
are rich in moisturizers and protect your 
skin from irritation. Many of them are 
also pleasingly scented, as well as medi- 
cally therapeutic. 

Electric shavers come in cord, cordless, 
rechargeable and battery-powered models 
that all work on the same mechanical 
principle: A thin metal screen directs 
whiskers to steel cutting blades beneath. 
The blade action is either pulsing or 
rotary. This clectricshaving technology 
began in the Fifties with the foil system. 
A thin, coated shaving foil covers the 
steel blades. Unlike wet shaving, electric 
shaving is most efficient when the hairs 
are dry and stiff, making for quick cuts. 
A softened and moistened beard would 
not penetrate the shaving foil, rather 
like wet grass under a lawn mower. 

Not only are beards and mustaches 
clear signs of masculinity but they can, 
when well trimmed and cared for, accent 
а man's best features and camouflage 
his weaknesses. Of course, the decision 
to grow a beard or a mustache demands 


CONDOMS 


How coulda conduit so thin 


You're looking at an unre- 
touched photograph of a typical 
Sheik? condom being used in a 
rather untypical way. 

may be stretching a point, 
but we're doing it to prove that a 
condom doesn't have to be thick to 
be safe. 

Measuring a thin three one- 
thousandths of an inch, Sheik con- 
doms offer the perfect balance of 
strength and sensitivity. 


be so strong? 


If they were any thinner, you 
wouldn't feel quite so safe. Any 
thicker and you wouldn't feel all 
there is to feel. 

How were we able to achieve 
such a perfect balance? By not com- 
promising on the quality of our 
materials or our testing procedures. 

In fact, Sheik condoms are 
actually tested up tc seven different 
times by advanced scientific 
techniques— including individual 


electronic testing. 

Yet, with all their strength, 
Sheiks feel so natural you'd swear 
you weren't wearing a condom at all. 


Sensi-Creme Lubricated, Ribbed, 
Reservoir End, and Plain End. 


Schmid Products Company, Litile Falls, 
New Jersey. 


Sheik 


The strong, sensitive type. 


at least eight weeks of uncertainty as 
the beard grows in, often at different 
rates in different areas of the face. To 
minimize discomfort, keep your beard 
cleaned, shampoocd and well rinsed to 
avoid skin eruptions or irritation. 

When trimming and shaping your 
whiskers, start with a clean, dry, well- 
combed beard. Most men find it's neces- 
sary to shave those areas where a beard 
thins—the cheeks and neck. That also 
gives the beard a well-defined shape. A 
wild and untrimmed beard usually works 
against a man's features. Keep your 
beard trimmed in proportion to your 
hair length. A short haircut should be 
balanced with a short, well-trimmed and 
sculpted beard. An ultrasleek, short hair- 
cut may not survive the distraction of a 
full beard. Often, a thin mustache is 
best. On the other hand, longer hair 
usually looks better with a long beard. 

Mustaches are often the key element 
to redefining a face. A problem nose 
(too long, too thin, too short, etc.) will 
fade when a well-defined, assertive mus- 
tache is grown. So, too, will a problem 
set of lips (thin upper lips, tight lips or 
full lower lips). 

While mustaches define the relation- 
ship of the lips and the nose, beards 
change the basic profile of the face. A 
flabby chin can be transformed into a 
beard that creates a strong jawline. A 
thin or triangular chin can be widened 
with a beard, just as a short or rounded 
face can be lengthened. In both cases, 
the trick is to sculpt the beard into a 
shape that suggests a different bone 
structure below. 

The final factor in deciding how to 
grow a beard and a mustache is the 
hairline. A low, full hairline looks best 
with a minimal amount of facial hait— 
perhaps just a mustache. A receding 
hairline often can be balanced with a 
carefully groomed beard and mustache. 
Rather than hide the receding hairline, 
the beard refocuses attention on the 
lower part of the face. A word of caution: 
Don't overcompensate for receding hair 
by growing a long beard. You'll want it 
short and very well groomed. 

Aside from shampooing and trimming, 
keep your beard and mustache combed. 
Not only will that daily ritual keep your 
beard well groomed but it will force you 
to notice when it needs a trim. If you 
feel unsure of yourself, have a hair stylist 
or barber trim your beard. Watch how 
he does it, removing the tangles. combing 
the hair at a right angle to the face and 
then cutting a small amount, If you take 
on the task yourself, you may find magni- 
fying mirrors, small combs, brushes and 
trimmers helpful. 

Shaving and shaping your beard and 
mustache can be comfortable, h re- 
sults that are flattering to your face and 
to your masculinity. 


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201 


PLAYBOY 


Playboy Hote and Casino 


(continued from page 162) 


"There are 500 guest rooms in the Playboy Hotel and 
Casino, among them 56 corner suites.” 


however, hotel employees succeeded in 

snaring their feathered guest and return- 

ing it to its natural habitat. It wasn't 

charged for nesting past check-out time. 
. 

On the first casino level—the second 
floor of the hotel—you stop at Hef's for 
an afternoon cocktail. Smooth music. 
Soothing. That's what you're thinking as 
a statuesque Bunny takes your drink 
order. There are cocktail lounges on 
cach casino floor, she tells you when she 
relurns—the Cartoon Corner on the 
third level, the Playmate Bar on the 
second. “But I think this one is nicest,” 
she confides. “For one thing, here at 
Hef's we have entertainment almost 
around the clock, from midafternoon 
into the middle of the night.” 

Right now, there’s a four-piece combo 
backing a singer whose voice is like 
velvet. You lean back in your chair. 
Great place to relax. You're fecling cx- 
pansive. (Doesn't hurt that you left the 
casino floor a few dollars ahead.) 

“Do you want to have dinner in the 
Chat Noir?” you ask your companion. 

The Chat Noir—named for one of the 
legendary Montmartre cafés that made 
Paris the place to be in the late 19th 
Century—is the most elegant of the 
four restaurants in Playboy's new hotel. 
The others are the Garden State Café, a 
24-hour coffee shop; the Golden Steer, 
adjacent to the Chat Noir and specializ- 
ing in steaks and seafood; and the top- 
floor Tahitian Room, which features 
Polynesian, Cantonese, Mandarin, Mon- 
golian and Szechwan delicacies. 

e. 

Your dinner reservation is at cight. 
Felix, the maitre de, smiles a greeting 
and introduces your table captain. You 
sip at a Beefeater martini, up, with a 
twist; she savors a kir while you study 
the menu (a process that takes longer 
than usual as you get caught up in the 
history of the original Chat Noir). You 
consider Chateaubriand and Rack of 
Lamb for two but settle on the Medaillon 
de Veau, while she opts for Fresh Lobster 
in Champagne Sance. You share an order 
of Escargots à la Dijonnaise—snails in an 
unusual sauce of herbed butter, white 
wine, cognac, shallots, parsley and mus- 
tard—followed by Seafood Bisque (for 
you) and chilled Cream of Water Cress 
Soup (for her). By the time you've 


202 finished your Water Cress and Mushroom 


Salad and she her Hearts of Palm Vinai- 
grette, you're beginning to wonder if 
there's still room for the main course. 
Your entrees arrive and suddenly there’s 
plenty of room. The veal is fork-tender, 
in a tangy cream sauce laced liberally 
with sliced тоте. Mouth-watering. 
Your lady, praising her lobster, insists 
that you ty a taste. It’s terrific, too, 
especially with the bottle of Chassigné 
Montráchet you've chosen from an ex- 
tensive wine list. You admit that the 
lobster grabs you. 

You're generally able to resist a well- 
stocked French-pastry cart, but tonight 


GETTING THERE 


By car: 55 minutes from Philadel- 
phia, two and a half hours from 
New York, four from Washington. 
Excellent highways. Parking space 
for 500 cars at Playboy. 

By air: Allegheny Commuter and 
USAir to Bader Field, in-town 
airport. Wheeler Airlines to 


NAFEC airport, ten miles west. 
By scheduled bus: Express, air-con- 

ditioned coaches from New York 

28 times daily, from Philadelphia 


38 times daily. 

By charter bus: Playboy operates 45 
luxury coaches a day from Phil 
delphia, New York, Baltimore 
and northern New Jersey. 

By charter flight: Playboy schedules 
jet flights from 50 Eastern cities 
and charters helicopter flights 
from New York, Philadelphia and 
Baltimore. For information, call 
Ralph Delligatti, Director of Ca- 
sino Marketing, toll-free, at 800- 
957-8644. 


is an exception. You fall for a Chocolate 
Torte, she for Soufflé Rothschild with 
marinated fruil and strawberry sauce. 
Then coffee and cognac. You're full now, 
and satisfied. 

Lco Kessler, Playboy's Swissborn Ex- 
ecutive Chef, delights in innovation. “If 
I were to copy another restaurant, I 
might as well just go work in a bank and 
count money for a living,” he shrugs. 
His most inventive creations are served 
in the Chat Noir, but one sees a cer- 
tain panache even in the coffeeshop 
sandwiches. We weren't surprised to 
learn that Kessler had won five grand 


prizes in National Restaurant Associa- 
tion competition. 
. 

There's still time to catch the 11:30 
show in the Cabaret over in the theater 
building; you pause and pump a few 
quarters into slot machines on the 
way. You strike out, but she quickly 
scoops up a shower of 20 coins. 

You've heard that the "Playboy Fan- 
tasy” show has a little of everything: 
dancing girls, singers, even a glowering 
Bengal tiger. But you weren't prepared 
for two motorcycle stunt men racing 
around inside a giant steel-mesh ball. 

Playboy Fantasy is directed by Peter 
Jackson, who has been producing New 
York revues (most recently, the hit Kicks 
at the Rainbow Grill) since 1973. Be- 
sides 50 Bunnies, it features a cast 
of 36 singers and dancers dressed in 
$250,000 worth of Parisian costumes, 
all showcased in the bestequipped thea- 
ter in town. 

. 

Back to your room, which you've hard- 
ly had time to notice. The maid has 
turned down the covers; few beds ever 
looked so inviting. 

There are 500 guest rooms in the 
Playboy Hotel and Casino, among them 
56 corner and six VJ.P. suites. The last, 
each named for a Playboy Club or Resort 
city, are all on the 21st floor and are 
cared lor by their own concierge. 

. 

The sun streams through your win- 
dows, reflecting off ripples in the Atlantic 
below. "There's not a cloud in the sky. 
A few sun bathers are already out on the 
beach; some surfers, too. It’s going to be 
a casual, comfortable day. 

You noted the night before that the 
hotel offers 24-hour room service, so you 
decide to indulge with breakfast in bed, 
including—why not?—champagne. It ar- 
rives almost before you've settled back 
into bed. On the cart, a copy of the local 
paper and a fresh carnation. 

“It should never take more than ten 
or 15 minutes to get a Continental break- 
fast to any room in the hotel," says Food 
and Beverage Director Otto Svensson, a 
native of West Germany and a veteran 
of service in the Omni hotel chain. 
"Something more complicated—eggs 
Benedict, say—might take half an hour. 
We don't believe in keeping people 
ng. 


. 

Stretch. You feel wonderful. You grab 
а robe, swim trunks, gym shorts and 
head jor the 22nd-floor health club; 
she goes along, eager for a massage and 
a dip in the Jacuzzi. You try out the 
exercise equipment: new stuff this, the 
CAM pneumatic gear you've heard 
about. A blond fellow with a mustache, 
who introduces himself as Health Club 


One Great Name. 


Now, Iwo Great Beers. 


CARTA BLANCA # 1 : 3 р 
IMPORTED BEER. В... 3e NEW 
B L WP» Ne Е CARTA BLANCA 


Carta Blanca, the 9 DARK SPECIAL. 


traditional great F o ` 
beer of Mexico, is i ' s 7 Carta Blanca Dark 
well known through 0 4 T. Special is a rich, 
out the world. Brewed e, 2% 7 full-flavored beer 
q 4 with a mild and mellow 


first in 1893, Carta Blanca 
has been winning gold 
medals and delighting 
beer drinkers ever since. 

Great with food. 

Great with 
friends. Have 

you tasted 
greatness lately? 


taste. Longer roasting 
of the barley results in 
a rich, dark color but a 
light, mild flavor. 
>. Sip it tonight. 
Serve it this 
weekend. 
Sensational! 


Brewed & Packaged by: CERVECERIA CUAUHTEMOC, S.A., Monterrey, N.L., Mexico, 
Western U.S. Importers: WISDOM IMPORT SALES COMPANY INC., Irvine, CA 92714 


[шаса 


DEMI sre LIOUFUR 


Дйн PROD. IMPORTED By cho 


í Tuac 
^. Thebold but ШУ sweet 
= 3 italian liqueur. 


Take a cigarette from your 
regular pack, and light up. You can’t get 


much faster than that. 
Now, settle back with 
DRUM. Smell the rich imported 
tobacco. Roll it up in the slow, even 
burning DRUM paper. Then relax to 
the surprisingly mild taste. You can 
get 40 flavorful DRUM smokes for 
the price of 20 regular ones. 
Of course, your regular 
cigarette is fine when you're in a 
hurry. But as the saying goes, if а 
you've got the ume... 


Break away from the pack. 


М 


Nat 
WORLD CLASS 
BY ITSELF 


The very nature of a masterpiece is that it is 
singularly removed from the ordinary. To taste 
Bohemia is to know an imported beer unlike any 
other. For it is brewed in the meticulous tradition 
of the artist, using the rare commodity of time 
We invite you to enjoy the excellence of Bohemia. 


IA, 


Brewed & Packaged by: Cerveceria Cuauhtemoc, S.A. Monterrey, N.L i ег 1 ponr SALES CO., INC. Irvine, Ca. 92714 3 


e 


Director Bill Burton, shows you how to 
use it. "This is the latest in exercise 
equipment, he says. "We think ils 
pneumatic resistance is superior to that 
of systems that use weights, because it's 
never jerky.” 

You try it, and like й. You work up 
an invigorating sweat in the sauna, 
then join your lady for a swim. The 
pool area is landscaped with palin trees; 
и overlooks the Tahitian Room and 
йз stylized golden palms. You feel as 
if you're on Maui. This, you tell your- 
self almost aloud, is the life. 
И health club. 
nd massage rooms men 
plus a coed sauna; poolside 
s are served during health-club 
hours from the Tahi Room bar. 

+ 

Back to the casino, second level this 
time. Somcone's got a streak going at 
one of the craps tables. You back him 
for a while, then move to « black 
jack table. Your companion decides to 
go down lo the London Arcade for a 
shopping promenade. 

In the cobblestoned arcade, on the 
ardwalk level of the theater building. 
the offerings of а  tobacconist 
Morist, a hai Fleet Street Sweets 
and Victorias Ice Cream Parlor. Over 
in the tower, the Playboy Gift Shop and 
Juliette Jewelry gleam with gilts. 

E 

At lunch in the Garden State Café, the 
two men at the next table seem to be 
making plans for a convention. 

“Looks to me like this hotel has the 
edge,” one of the businessmen says to 
the other. “Right next door to Conven- 
tion Hall: You can't beat it." 

‘There was a time when Atlantic City 
was called the queen of resorts. "Today, 
the city fathers are betting on expanded 
hotel space and revitalized convention 
facilities, as much as on о gambling, 
to spark the renaissance they envision 
for their town. 
nly didn't commit the kind 
that we have put in here lor 
y advantage," Hugh 
Helner told reporters at a press conter- 
ence during the grand opening of 
the hotel. "Ehe real intention, for all 
concerned, is to build this community, 
turn it into a really viable convention 
city, which will in turn attract business 
to the casinos and to the city. 

The Playboy property—a joint ven- 
ture between Playboy Enterprises and 
the Elsinore — Corporation—contains 
26,312 square {eet of meeting-room space, 
including a grand ballroom that seats 


a 


esse 


1600 persons theater style or 1000 
persons for dinner; the Ventnor and 
Margate suites, divisible into five and 
four smaller rooms, respectively; the 


VIP Room, executive conference room 


complete with wet Баг; and, of course, 
the Playboy Cabaret, with its unparal- 
leled stage facilities, where 1000 can be 
seated for cocktails and 800 for dinner. 

Svensson believes Playboy's faciliti 
ents are "the finest in the 
y offer theme parties, recep- 
tions or a variety of dinners with menus 
ranging from $13 to 530 per person. If 
to have something special, we 
n it for you; tell us your budg. 
et—or, for that matter, tell us what you 
need at no budget—and we'll be able 
to do it for anywhere f 20 to 1000 
people.” 
boys commitment to Atlantic 
is outlined by Managing Director 
Jean-Pierre Delanney, also involves sup- 
port of sports and the arts. The first 
major cultural event sponsored by the 
Hotel and Casino was Beverly Sills's 
appearance as narrator of the New York 
City Opera’s presentation of Verdi's La 
Traviata last M; A benefit, black-tie, 
$200-per-couple gala at Playboy followed 
the performance. 

The biggest sports event to date 
took place in July—the running of the 
Playboy Jersey Derby, the first casino- 
sponsored horse race ever in America. 
The Jersey Derby, last run in 1977, was 
once the state's most famous thorough- 
bred race; Playboy breathed life back 
into a dead horse by putting up $100,000 
of the race's 5150.000 stake. 

. 

One thing you overheard the conven- 

tion planners talking about was local 


You knew about the 
Boardwalk, of course, but what else does 
this part of New Jersey have to offer? 
You check with the concierge, and she 
outlines a good week's worth of possibili- 
ties: the Towne of Historic Smithville, 
a quaint settlement of more than 65 
authentic old structures, plus new res- 
taurants and shops; a pair of wineries 
that welcome lourists; an excursion 
to the Victorian seaside town of Cape 
May, an hour's drive south; or, right 
al the north end of the island on 
which Atlantic City sits, Historic Gard- 
ners Basin, site of a maritime village 
where you can go for a sail on the 130- 
foot brigantine Young America, largest 
American square-rigged vessel in use. 
You'd been planning to spend only 
a couple of days at Playboy in Atlantic 
City. Obviously. that's not going to be 
enough. You cancel those hotel reserva- 
tions you'd made in Baltimore, walk 
up to the front-desk clerk and tell 
him you'd like to stay three more nights. 
He smiles, genuinely glad you like 
his place 
You stride back into the casino and 
glance over all the gaming tables and 


tourist attractions 


gleaming slot machines. The waves roll 
and break just on the other side of the 
windows. Will three days be enough? 


For reservations at Playboy Hotel and 
Casino, Atlantic City, see your travel 
agent, write or call toll-free, 800-621-1116. 


“Sergio! How marvelous that you should call! 
I was just thinking about you!” 


203 


SEXUAL DETENTE /SHAMES 


(continued from page 98) 


“We are not retreating into innocence but relearning 
the knack of making poetry out of our appetites.” 


the only ones who were beginning to 
miss it. Women, too, re-emerging from 
the pious selfabsorption of the wartime 
ycars, were starting to realize that s 
thing precious—if at times 
in the male nature had bee 
hiding. The macho guy hi 
ished. and perhaps his exile had been 
necessary t0 give wom chance to 
flex heir muscles. to give men a taste « 
the emotional depths, to establish a new 
sort of balance; but maybe now it was 
time to welcome him back—not in his 
to be sure, but 


ier blustering form 
shape: a n who 
spected women but would not pander 


to them: who was capable of desire 
пош. apology and without the need 
to explain: who was equal to the de- 
nds of courtship and pursuit 
who, most of all, reveled in his maleness 
in such a w to remind a woman 
that equality was not the same as same- 
ness and that, ultimately. it а 
differences that constituted men's. and 
women's greatest promise for one an 
other. 


ya 


growing h 
n. Now they were ready to receive 
because now they had grown strong 
The stage for 
détente was se 


And that is where the benefit of hind- 
ends, because the terms of the 
détente are being debated and defined 
even at this moment. The ground rules 
e being discussed in thousands of 
candlelit conversations, the new tone is 
being set by an emotional consensus 


based on millions of instances of eye 
contact, casual hellos, chance meetings 
and meetings not by chance at all. Every 
time a man and a woman rcach a private 


understanding. ise is added 
to the treaty. Still, the general shape of 
the accord can already be inferred: it's 
posible to make some educated, if 
tered, guesses as to what the era of 
détente will offer. 

For one thing, it will offer the return 
mance. Remember romance? If you 
came of age in the Sixties or Seventies, 
chances are you've only read about it or 
seen ir in the movies, because thei 
nt much of the genuine article 
‘ound in the past 20 years, Romance 
one of the greatest casualties of the 
time era: the Sixties were too pon- 
derously sincere for it and the Seventies 
were too Cautious. In those days. people 
aw each other," “had rclationships"— 
there were all sorts of catch phrases that 


diplomatically skirted the issue of real 
involvement and whose net effect was to 
keep the exit door wide open. Men and 
women weren't taking any more or big- 
ger chances than they had to: they wer 
on guard against being too passionately 
awn into the game. 

And romance is, of course, a game— 
headlong and exalted form of play, а 
hand-rubbing conspiracy between tw 
people who've agreed to strap themselves 
то the same spaceship and risk it all. 

у. vou can take a ride like t 

who's going your 
me years—when 
age was of a woman 
to the sunset while her 
man paced circles around her absence— 
the sexes had lost the sense of a com 
destination. In the golden age of 
mance—the days of Fred and Ginger 
top hats, evening gowns and bursts 
song—men and women knew they were 
cing down the selfsame road. the 
longed-Ior culmination of which was the 
suburban cottage, the steady job for 
the husband, the 2.7 kiddies for the wile. 
These days the options 
broader and more eq 
but the significant point is this: tha 
whatever option a person chooses—a 
career, a marriage, children. 
of the above—he or she 


that there is someone ош there who 
wants the same things and is willing to 
share the quest. And this 


faith—a central precept of the era ої 
détente—is enabling men and women 
to play at romance again, to go for the 
ill out the stops and fall 


big one, to 
in love. 


pus paradox enters the eq 
Falling in love is far more 
serious, far more hazardous, than seeing 
someone or having a relationship: and 
because it is. it is also а lot more fu 
In contrast to the matter-of-fact cou- 
plings of the recent past—when men and 
women tended to fall into bed at the 
first opportunity or not at all, and 

either case. the adventure. w 
Imost before it ted—romance is 
n exquisite tease. Since the stakes are 
high. the game must be played delib- 
eraty: the result is that desire is 
maximized, longing is taken to the limit 
nd even the smallest gestures become 
invested with an awesome weight of 
emotioi nd physical significance. In 
the era of détente, men and women а 
rediscovering the silly excitement. of 
dressing to please each other. Couples 
are again squirming with the near-Hitch- 
cockian suspense of waiting for a kiss 


s over 


good night. Men are realizing anew 
what a wild and intimate privilege i 
to help a lady on with her coat. to sense 
her arms sliding down through sleeves, 
to bring th st against the 
bare nape of her neck. . .. In short, the 
coming of the new accord has enabled 
men and women to revel again in un 
willion sexy intricacies of the mating 
dance, and to understand that more, 
perhaps, is lost than gained when she 
cuts to satiety are taken. 

The era of detente, then, is sh: 
up as exceedingly sensuous but. in con- 
st to the recent past. neither bawdy 
nor promiscuous. Certain features of the 
sexual revolution have been adopted 
into its ethos. while other, more sopho- 
moric or desperate elements have been 
discarded. The ultimately anti-erotic 
obsession with orgasm seems finally to 
have died a writhing and spasmodic 
death, and the notion of the "zipless 
fuck" has been recognized as an. almost. 
virginal misinterpretation of how passion 
operates. The central message of the 
sexual awakening, though—that we are 
creatures of de: riven in part by 
glandular imperatives—has stayed. with 
us; we are not retreating into a рге 
tended innocence but relearning the life 
enhancing knack of making poetry out 
of our appetites. 

Ir took the shock and tumult of the 
Sixties to chip y our inhibitions so 
that we could truly enjoy ourselves. and 
it required the cool decade of the Seven- 
ties to give us time to recognize that 
enjoying ourselves was not the object 
Enjoying cach other is the idea. after all. 
and one hopes that the returning lyri- 
cism of the era of détente will reconnect 
the notions of pleasure and partner. 

. 

Do you recall from your youth that 
brave and stirring phrase "going all the 
ү”? Can you remember the giddy, 

i invigoration the idea 
carried with i? Well, the phrase. in its 
original meaning. isn't quite the battle 
ay it was, having been robbed of its 
momentousness by changing times and 
our own maturing. Those same words. 
though, are now taking on a new defini 
tion—and that is one that can never lose 
its zing, simply because there's nothing 
beyond it. no place further to go. In the 
cra of détente, going all the way nu 
walking the aisle, taking the vows, fu 
bling with the ring while some guy plays 
the organ. Going all the way means 
getting married. 

To say that matrimony is making a 
comeback is both an understatement and 
misreading of the facts. We are in the 
midst. of enthusiasm for the instituti, 
le short of bor 
think that, as 
asm marks a dr 
m the attitude of the 
we rong. Although 


collar to r 


ng 


decade, 
y pointless 10 


hash all the nasty 205 


PLAYBOY 


206 


things that were said about marriage 
time years, it is worth 
ing that the bulk of the accusations 
x novels. eight movies and 
the testimony of a handful of frustrated 
suburban matrons (probably lousy dane 
ers anyway) who went on daytime tele- 
vision to testify that their lives had 
plummeted into mediocrity the instant 
they dropped out of ballet school to 
clope. In short, the down-on. 
movement, while virulent, was h: 
the grass-roots variety. 

The fears it expressed, however, were 
enough. That marriage could be a 
ap was worth acknowledging. That а 


age 


rdly ol 


re: 


femily could serve—especially, but not 
ely, for women—as an excuse for 


exclu: 
falling short of a well-rounded 
à sad truth not difficult to illustrate. 
That it didn't have to be that way, 
though, was a stubborn faith that never 
stopped simmering in most of us and 
that, in the era of détente, has boiled 
over into a new resolve. A. psychologist 
friend of mine frames an interesting 
Marriage today, she says, can 
be better than ever, because it is more 
acceptable than ever not to be ma 
You can live v 


was 


lone. Sex is available and either gender 
сап earn a living. When people do 
decide 10 marry, it’s not because they're 
cornered by a lack of options; it's be- 
cause they want to, be they're 
ready. And being ready, they're deter- 
ed not to blow it. They put on a 
ficrce vigilance that simply won't allow 
the creeping in of resentments or un 
fairness—the things that make the pieces 
come unstuck. They have as clear an 
idea as human beings ever have of what 
they want, and an even sharper, saving 
sense of what they won't abide. 

Marriage, then, is becoming anything 
but the passive choice, the way of lile 
that people just fall into. Rather, irs 
presenting itself as the option for which 
men and women reach in the fullness of 
their spirit riage is ап energetic 
enterprise, the pitting of one man’s and 
ngth against such uni- 
enemies as boredom, tempta 
death and taxes, and it can wo 
or lets say it works best—when 
partner believes that the other is strong 
and resolute enough to carry on his or 
her half of the battle. 

For a time, it was difficult for men 

та wome 


ause 


to trust one another about 


“For God's sak 


, man! Don't ask any questions! Take 


this and stick it up your ass!” 


that. In 
beginn 


the era of détente, they 

ng to again. 
б 

So, then, here we are, on the cusp of 
what promises to be d- 
venturous amity and mutual regard be- 
tween the sexes. There remains just one 
indelicate but unshirkable question: Are 
we sure we're not kidding ourselves 
about all this? Will this cheery assess- 
ment of where we stand look profoundly 
foolish in a decade, in six months— 
next weck? Every age likes to think of 
itself as more enlightened than all pre- 
vious ages, but hindsight shows that that 
has seldom been the case. (What are they 
g to slam us about?) Skeptics may 
harrumph the very notion of progress in 
relations between the sexes and may 
suggest that we are doing nothing but 
taking another swing along that eternal 
continuum th 
‘em to can't live without ‘em. And maybe 
they're right. Aside from some alte 
tions im vocabulary, a swing back to 
clothing that respects diffi 
gender and a spate of love stories а 
movies, has anything really changed 

Yes, goddamn it, it has. Think back 
a dozen years or so. Recall the trau- 
matic incursions by women into the 
sacred precincts of business; the mon- 
strous awkwardness of it, the wave of 
nks of male execs. 
ember the balllement 
sophisticates though we fancy o 
the embarrassment of the early, angry 
discussion of sexuality. the 
women's defiant needs and the men's 
reluctant admissions. Remember the 
high-minded and absurd simpleness of 
the labels we stuck on cach other. 
Chauvinist pig. righton woman—how 
rchaic and obsolete those phrases 
already sound. Even at this scant re- 
move, it seems remarkable how little we 
understood about one another then, how 
litle inclined we were to give опе 
another the benefit of the doubt. 

We had a lot to wrestle with, a lot to 
convince one another of and a lot to 
reassure ourselves about. Thats what 
the war was for, and it accomplished at 
least a significant part of what needed 
doing. Some things have changed. The 
present peace has been hard-won. 

Still, it is a fragile peace. Even in the 
chummiest of times, men and women are 
not the sort of allies who figure ever to 
unstock their arsenals. They need one 
another too. much . to allow 
the specter of complacency to suck the 
r out of things. No, the scena 
lente still includes an element. ol 
a salubrious tension that keeps 
the mind alert, the senses keen and the 


n epoch of 


e 


panic that swept the 


R 


lo Фа 


io of 


spirit attuned to the intriguing and 
finally inscrutable character of one's 
counterpart. 


VAT TOOIJO WOMANI 


(continued from page 106) 


* *Maud and I did more exploring of each other than 
of the material, in terms of a relationship.” 


runner (lately doing 45-50 miles per 
week). He used to teach acting 
he practices with total concentration 
with that hypnotic intensity that became 
his trademark im the neurotic, weirdo or 
redneck roles he used to play before 
Hollywood discovered he could be a 
certified sex object to hordes of women. 
Although Dern didn't want to give away 
too much of the plot of Tattoo, he ad- 
mitted having had misgivings that the 
character he portrays—a tattoo artist 
who becomes romantically obsessed with 
a famous model and spirits her away 
to his beach house—might be viewed as 
a throwback to those psycho parts. “I 
as worried about it. I didn’t want 
the Bruce Dern of Black Sunday to 
reappear in Tattoo. But Joe Levine 
didn't want that, either. This is not the 
study of a psycho. In this movie, through 
a character, I feel there is more of the 
real soul of Bruce Dern than in any role 
I've ever played. This is a most honest 
love story, the serious exploration of a 
relationship.” 


he casting of Maud, Dern confid- 


ed, was a combination of flukes. "Actu- 
ally, they offered the role to Nastassja 
Kinski, but she didn't want to do it. We 
had to find a girl 1 could literally fall in 
love with, be obsessed with, someone I 
could give everything to. It was my 
secretary, Donna, who saw Maud on 
The Tonight Show and said, "You 
ought to take а look, she'd be right for 
the part’ Three hours earlier, as it 
happened, our director, Bob Brooks, had 
seen the same show in New York and 
asked who that girl was. They flew her 
out for an interview the next day.” 
During the first two weeks of rehearsal, 
Dern continued, “Maud and I did more 
exploring of each other than of the 
material, in terms of a relationship. "Um. 
not interested in fucking you; I told he 
because I have a wile, Andrea, the love- 
ly lady you had dinner with last night. 
She's here, she goes on all locations with 
me. But for me, the purest kind of act 
ing is to be publicly private. In order to 


do that,’ I told Maud, ‘I'm going to have 
to be totally naked mentally and. physi- 


d youre going to have to be 
ly and physically naked, too, in 
front of 60 people on the crew who are 
going to be embarrassed by what you're 
doing. Unless you're ready for that, you 
won't be happy with this role.” 

"So now. some guy asks me, 
Well, did you fuck her?, 1 always say 
that what you see in the movi 
you get. There's no question that my 


penis was around her erc 


when 


is what 


nous zonê . 
At the 


nd was not in a limber state. 
samc time, remember, you have to do 
take two, then takes three four. 
Nothing was going on between us out 
side the movie, yet Maud and I loved 
cach other, and what you see in that 
final scene is real, legitimate lovemaking. 
I mean, that's as good a piece of ass as 
I'll ever be. 
always felt there are pieces of me left in 
films that I never get back somchow. And 
I probably left more in Tattoo, partic 
ularly in that bedroom, than in any 
other film. I poured my guts out and the 
camera caught it, and if they say that's 

it, then I'm fucked, because I don't 
any more than that to give.” 

Dern predicts that, besides stirring 
controversy, the movie may launch 
fad for temporary tattoos. "You 
know, Levine and his two make-up men 
have patented the process they used on 
us. So you can have a tattoo effect just 


and 


-in that scene. That’s il. Гуе 


skin 


BREWED AND BOTTLED IN CANADA; imported by Martlet Importing Co., Inc., Great Neck, N.Y. 


forthe best of 


Canada? 


Make sure its 
Molson. : ғ 


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“Ah! Finally noticed us, eh?” 


209 


PLAYBOY 


210 


for an evening. Actuall 
48 to 72 hours.” 

Does it stay on when you make lov 
was my inevitable next question. 

Dern smiled his crooked smile. "Well, 
it did in the movie. 

Full of praise for his co-star as far 
more than a flickering partner in pas- 
sion, Bruce ventured that Tattoo would 
establish Maud's dramatic credentials 
tyears beyond what the public has 
been conditioned to expect of a model 
"There's a moment when she gets out of 
bed and goes to the closet to look for 
her clothes and turns and sees herself 


in а mirror, and moves to the mirror 
d starts to rub off the tattoo on her 


body .. . and that reaction of Maud’ 
that whole scene, is as incredibly pur 

piece of work by an actor as any I've 
ever эссп." And that's from а man who 
once taught acting classes attended by 
Ellen Burstyn and her ilk. 

From Dern’s provocative description 
ids second heaviest day was a mas- 
turbation scene she began oncamer 
and had to continue after the action 
cut to Dern outside the bedroc г; 
“I told her, "You must do it, Maud, lor 
your own sake . . . you must really do 
it, without your robe on, so I can see. 
And I promise no one else will see what 
you do, and no one did. Because the 
is outside shooting me. a strange 
shot, watching her through a little peep- 
hole, What makes the scene work is th 
Ym almost ashamed while I'm asking her 


to do it, but the compulsiveness of the 
character makes him keep on. Then she 
opens the door, and I'm a basket case, 
and she goes into another rage—' 
. 
By the time I caught up with Maud 
at her house nestled in one of the 


Hollywood canyons, she was no longer 
angry with Dern, only wary and be- 
mused by 


his looselipped lack of re- 
rst, I just blew my stack. I 
she said, blue eyes bright- 
ening as she poured me a vodka and 
lounged stylishly in a natural-cotton 
jump suit. Uh, well, a girl like Maud 
might make a guy feel reckless. 

“Weve talked about it, and I for- 
give him,” she continued. “Bruce has a 
tendency to get 
words. І think he also wanted to come 
on in those interviews, for fun, as a 
kind of macho man. When he speaks of 
physical consummation during our love 
scene, readers are set up lo believe 
there's actual penetration taking place. 
That is what people are left think 
that we're actually making it——" 

Maud soltened a little. “Even if we 
were, wouldn't it have been better lelt 
unsaid? I felt very hurt, because [ had 
gained such respect for Bruce in the 
course of the film, as the most consum- 
mate actor I'd ever seen. I also loved 
him as a person and thought he was 
such a sensitive, vulnerable man. But I 
think when he starts working on any 
project, he loses Bruce Dern and be- 


ried акау... with 


“For all night? Hmmmm—for all night, 
Ful make it solid mahogany with colonial bronze trim 


and paisley satin interior. 


comes the character he's playing. That 
was very evident about halfway through 
the movie, 

“The same thing happened to me, in 
a sense, big emotional revelations about 
myself, almost like psychoanalysis. I felt 
lated at times. Before that, I'd done 
love scenes with some nudity, innocent 
scenes underneath the sheets. I would 
always insist the nudity be kept to a 
minimum; I felt very uptight. I'm not 
against it on principle. Growing up as 


1 did, however, being supershy, with 
a puritanical kind of background, it 
was very hard for me to relate to sex 


in a public, open manner. The way I 
ed, that's a topic to be kept 
behind closed doors.” 

She was r п a subarctic Swedish 
town called Lulea, but good genes and 
that viking bone structure made it more 
or less inevitable that Maud would not 
wind up herding reinde scarce- 
ly into her teens—a ti tomboy 
on the verge of ja ‚ preferring Lady 
hatterleys. Lover to dull textbooks— 
when she overheard her mother, watch- 
ing Maud basking in the sun, say, "My 
God. this girl is going to be something! 
Which clearly implied something for the 
boys. Determined to derail such proph- 
ecies, Maud's strict father wouldn't let 
her have boyfriends or even go to school 
dances. “Yet 1 managed to keep some- 
body on the side,” she acknowledges, “a 
Hungarian refugee, with dark curly 
my first love 
d to Stockholm, 
Maud became a successíul model, then 
moved i nd ultimately married 
graphic artist-photographer Roy Adams, 
Englishman who sta 
while she conquered the Everests of high 
fashion in Paris and New York. Hi 
and only marriage, long since dissolved, 
is hardly one of Maud's favori 


was rn 


ed 


where 


е topic. 


She would rather discuss the films shc 
has done, the Bond flick or Rollerball 
with James Caan, or her uncharacteris- 


tic role as a plain, plucky Belgian-Jewish 
woman in Playing for Time, last year's 
controversial television drama with Va- 
nessa Redgrave. She may even relish 
telling you about movies she didn't 
such as The Pink Panther Strikes 
Again. Replaced by Lesley-Anne Down, 
Maud was peremptorily fired—either E 
cause she balked at w med a gra- 
lous nude scene or because of the bad 
vibes set off following a strange, celibate 
weekend with the late Peter 
Seller: э another story 

Three years ago, Maud irrevocably 
left Lip Quencher behind to fight for 
unqualified recogn n actress. 
Alter а year of virtual solitude at an old 
farmhouse she owned in Connecticut, 
she went West to stay, with time out 
for a couple of bread-and-buuer film 
jobs abroad. “The parts I got were not 
terrific, mainly episodic TV work. And 


se 


because I still had a trace of accent, Га 

erally be playing villainous women, 
Russian spies, that kind of thing. 1 
ng, too, and started getting 
ng good feedback from the 
nd casting 
so hit the TV talk-show circuit. 
though she confesses she has to still 


her as a golden, 
sex goddess. “И you're Swedish, 
think you must bi 
garding sex. It's all so r 
of my life, I've been quit 
Yet I consider myself libe 
feel that Swedish women have a ce 


normal, 
ues. But 


. We're oper 
-lashioned, too. There аге no 
about love. People Merv 
ritin always treat me like a sex ex- 
pert and ask questions about the differ- 
ences between European and America 
men. I just shrug. That doesnt seem to 
a serious subject. Merv will say. 
not living with your 
boyfriend? As if that’s the truly normal 
and correct thing to do nowadays. He 
seemed. quite shocked once when I told 
him Ive discovered the best way is: 
Don't live with the man you love and 
don't love the man you live with. 
Don't believe а word of it. Maud was 
aglow when she Hew East for photo ses 
weeks alter our encounter 
1. She had just broken oll 
aship that seemed 
beyond repair and was excitedly con- 
sidering moving in with a celebrated 
plastic surgeon. she үч met and mes- 
merized on the run. “I love roma 
she said, all but purring. "1 love roman- 
nen, 1 Jove surprises, but not gifts 
. I mean a thought. Simple, 
like a flower at your 


tic 


bedside table. 
0 loves simple things like yoga, 
picking lingonberries 
s in the woods of Sweden 
in t air is cool, the skies 
bright and clear. Lest we lorget, how- 
ever, having the top. Spot in a major new 
s well as 
touch her heart. ally good 
climb," Maud notes, "and all of a sud- 
being billed above the title as 
ading lady puts you in a different 
category. There are lots of people out 
there, and you're competing with the 
heavyw aye Dunaway or who- 
ever. That's exci Ы so good 
about everything right no 
Maud is obviously in mint 
the plastic surgeon can relax 
and enjoy her as she is. Tattoo. and 
Dern, however, may change the 
n of her future in more ways 


И yous like fc know tow these boys cen get charcoal by buming hará maple wood, drop us a line. 


BATEMAN, BURNS AND BRANCH 
sound like Philadelphia lawyers. Actually, 
they’re rickers from Tennessee. 


There aren't many men who can take a rick 
of hard maple wood and burn it into tiny 
pieces of charcoal. But these three gentlemen 
can. And, after the charcoal is packed into big 
vats, we gentle our whiskey 
down through it. If you're 
wondering what accounts 


ioe CHARCOAL 
for Jack Daniel’s smooth- MELLOWED 
ness, give the credit to this b 
{ DROP 
charcoal. But don't overlook б 
a trio of ríckers -Énamed BY DROP 


Bateman, Burns and Branch. 


Tennessee Whiskey • 90 Proof • Distilled and Botlled by Jack Daniel Distillery, 
Lem Motlow, Prop. Inc., Route 1, Lynchburg (Pop. 361). Tennessee 37352 


Placed in the National Register of Historic Places by the United States Government, 211 


PLAYBOY POTPOURRI 


people, places, objects and events of interest or amusement 


THE WITCHING HOUR 
You've got to see Wanda the Witch to believe her; one minute she's a 
blank mannequin head, the next she's a talking and shricking 3-D 
face that's so realistic timid souls have fled her evil orbs faster than you 
can say eye of newt. Audio Visual Mannequins, 540 North Lake 
Shore Drive, Suite 305, Chicago, Illinois 60611, sells Wanda for $2900 
complete, including projection equipment, and rents her for $450 per 
month. They'll even do а 3-D mannequin of your mug for a mere $6500. 


NEW VEIL UNVEILED 


In June 1979, we featured a huge Mombasa mosquito net that 
resembled a prop from a Jon Hall jungle flick. Now the same company, 
Yungjohann Hillman, Inc., 1350 Manufactur ing, Suite 221, Dallas, 
Texas 75207, has created a Mombasa Privacy Veil—50 yards of nylon 
fabric (with all attachments) that, for $150, converts your mundane old 
Hollywood mattress into something right out of the Sheik of Araby. 
If you don't get lucky with this in your boudoir, get thee to a monastery. 
212 * 


r 


SOCCER SEES THE LIGHT 


Soccer may not replace baseball as the 
national pastime, but it is a kick—es- 
pecially when you play it as a night game. 
To help you see the light, Soccer Inter- 
national Inc., P.O. Вох 7222, Dept. GWL, 
Arlington, Virginia 22207, has come out 
with a durable molded-vinyl soccer ball 
that's internally lit by a removable light 
stick. The ball costs $19.50, including post- 
age and two light sticks. And after the 
game, you can use it as a night light. 


THE GINNING OF THE WEST 
Bernard DeVoto called it the "supreme 
American gift to world culture." 

H. L. Mencken maintained it was “the 
only American invention as perfect as а 
sonnet.” The martini is now immor- 
talized in The Silver Bullet: The Martini 
in American Civilization—a 149-page 
paean to the king of potables available 
from Greenwood Press, 88 Post Road 
West, Westport, Connecticut 06881, for 
$19.95, postpaid. Cheers! 


HOT LICKS 
"There are lots of candies on 
the market that could be 
described as mouth-watering, 
but the Jalapeno Lollipops 
being sold by K. V. Associates, 
9707 Richmond, Dept. 76. 
Houston, Texas 77042, are the 
first confections we've come 
across that are eye-waterin 
too. And if you can't believe 
that these little devils are 
potent enough to bring tears 
to the eyes of even the 
most hardened hot-food freak, 
just send $11 for 40 pops 
and find out for yourself. This 
Halloween, how about a fiery 
pop for that window-soaping 
trick-or-treater? 


UPPING PANTY ANTE 
We all know that panty hase 
help keep a girl's lower ex- 
tremities nice and toasty, while 
guys have to pull on long 
johns to achieve the same ef- 
fect. Well, girls, for that 

very special man in your life, 
P. S. Brown, P.O. Box 648, 
Mount Grove, Missouri 65711, 
has created Three-Legged 
Panty Hose—a five-dollar 
stretch stocking that will come 
in handy when your guy is 
freezing his behind off at a 
football game. And there’s 
even a money-back guarantee, 
provided you send photo 
evidence of what the third 
leg couldn't stretch over. 


PAINTER'S HATS 
APLENTY 

Eclat (P.O. Box 69683, West 
Hollywood, California 90069) 
is selling simple one-size-fits- 
all cotton painter's caps with 
the names of such fine artists 
as Cassatt, Lautrec, Picasso, 

ézanne and Matisse scrawled 
across the front. (Get it? 
They're all famous painters 
and their names are on lowly 
house-painters’ caps. Oh, 
wow!) The price for this piece 
of inspired frippery is only 
81! cach, postpaid. That's 
more than some of the artists 
charged when they were 
painting in cold-water walk- 
ups in Montmartre. 


BAR AND BRIEFCASE ARE OPEN 
Just peddled 10,000 shares in a hockey-puck 
minc? Sold your ocean-view condo in 
Boise, Idaho? You can celebrate deals big and 
small if you've taken along a Tote-a-Toast—a 
standard American Tourister attaché case 
that the Tote-a-Toast Company (1019 Crowley 
Road, Arlington, Texas 76019) has custom- 
ized to hold three boules and automatically 
dispense a predetermined amount of liquor. 
"The price? Just $300. Drink up! 


VINTAGE SOUNDS OF MUSIC 
Facts You Always Wanted to Know: One of the 
world’s largest collections of vintage phono- 
graphs and music boxes is housed in Seven Acres 
Antique Village & Museum, located at 8512 
South Union Road, Union, Illinois 60180. 
Owner Larry Donley also maintains a sales- 
andsservice department, and he can fix you up 
with a late Thirties windup machine tor 
$75 or a $5000 coin-operated Excelsior cylinder 
model that is more exciting than a Wurlitzer. 


213 


PLAYBOY 


214 himself they were 


A FLAG FOR SUNRISE 


(continued from page 138) 


“Pablo watched and listened, made himself useful 
and kept his nature to himself.” 


"Sorry," he said. 


The compartment had the same d: 
paneling as the forward passageway; 
there was a striped chaise longue, some 
captain's chairs with brightly colored 
cushions, cv bookcase. In the center 
of the oom was а round table with 
studs, an electric fan resting on it. 
Mrs. Callahan was sitting in one of the 
Captain's chairs under а lighted wall 
lamp. a book on her lap. 

On your right, Pablo," she told him. 
She pulled the terrycloth robe she was 
wearing a little farther down over her 
tanned thighs. It was all she had on, 
Pablo thought. 

“I'll go casy on the water." 
he said. 

d him a shit, a shower and a 
is thoughts were carnal. Soaping 
down, he sang to himself. 


"I vide an old paint 

1 lead an old Dan, 

I'm goin’ to Montana for to throw 
the hooley-ann.” 


The water was warm, hand-pumped 
out of an overhead pipe through a rub- 
ber nozzle. He shaved slowly and delib- 
erately, his shoulder propped against 
the bulkhead beside the mirror, riding 
with the slow roll of the boat, still 
singing. 

When he came out, Mrs. Callahan was 
watching him. She was smiling. 

"Do you play the guitar? 
him. 


she asked 


o," Pablo said, feeling surly and 
put down. 
/hat a shame,” she said. 

He climbed out of the fancy compart- 
ment, the kit and soiled clothes under 
his and went out on deck. Low, 
even seas slid westward under the light 
wind; over the horizon was a thin line 
of cloud, nearly pink in the fading light. 
Big bitch thinks I'm comical, he said to 
himself. She thinks I'm the fucking 
tertainment. 


arm, 


. 

During the next two days, the Cloud 
ran the coast of the isthmus. Most of 
the time, they were out of sight of 
land, in the scas between the Swan Is- 
lands and Serr Bank. Pablo watched. 
and listened, made himself useful and 
kept his nature to himscl£. It was like 
a shakedown cruise; they were testing. 
the electronics gear and the auxiliary 
diesels, making plans to which he was 
not party. Mainly, he realized, it was he 
observing. Negus 


and both of the Callahans would engage 
him from time to time in strained quiet 
conversations that varied in nature ac 
cording to their styles. He made it his 
business to be pleasant, incurious and 
resourceful in small ters. He had a 
turn at the wheel, he replaced a Ray- 
theon tube and sunned himself on the 
hatches. Once, when they were anchored 
off Cabo Gracias a Dios, he had a 
skinny-dip and was confirmed in the con- 
viction that Mrs. Callahan had eyes for 
him. The swim also gave him a chance 
to study the boat's dynamics from the 
business end, and although he was no 
engineer, he could see that even in basic 
consti ion the Cloud was not what she 
appe: She had what the Coast 
rd would call a false hull; a squat 
duck of a shrimper at first and even 
second glance above the water line, her 
lines were modified to make her capable 
of formidable speed with the diesels 
wide open. A contrabander, as he had 
assumed. 

On the morning of the third day out, 
they dropped the hook off Palmas and 
set about getting drunk. Their intem- 
ce worried Pablo; who thought it 
unbusinesslike. They smoked a great 
deal of gi as well and tried to press 
it on him. Pablo had settled himself into 
three Benzedrines a day and he did not 
care {ог mariju: feel 
turned around. 

After 


it made 


siesta, the 


on 
three of them held a conference in th 


me day, the 
" 
ble saloon space. Pablo was not 


mprob 
invited. 

When the afternoon passed and he 
was not summoned, he felt confident 
that they were satisfied. with him. In 
the evening, he and Negus lifted anchor 
and lowered the stabilizers. Mrs. Callahan. 
cleaned the galley. It scemed he was in. 

° 

The dark came down quickly after 
sunset. The lights of the coastal fishing 
boats grew dimmer and more distant 
ft; westward, the evening star was 
rising, the wind steady. The Cloud 
plowed into its fi tance making 
ven or eight knots. From the galley 
ame the smell of frying stea 

Pablo sat beside the afterhatch, watch- 
ing the wake in starlight. Negus came 
out on deck and called him forward 
for chow, 

Mrs. Callahan was leaning over the 
galley stove, a rum and tonic secured 
on a rack beside her. Strips of sirloin 
were warming in the pan, there was a 
huge pot of boiled greens. 


Pablo was cheerful 

"Get yourself a drink and go sit 
down," Mrs. Callahan said. 

Pablo helped himself to a measure of 
light rum and took it down to the fancy 
paneled compartment. The crew's 
lounge. At opposite quarters of the 
mahogany table, drinks set before them, 
ere Negus and Callahan, Pablo picked 
himself a chair and sat down. Callahan 
looked boozy and affable. Negus, scratch- 
ing his car, looked unhappy 

“What do you think, Pablo?” Calla- 
han asked, 

Pablo smiled. “What do I think about 
what, Mr. Callahan? You got a nice boat 
here. I ain't hardly done any work yet.” 

Mrs. Callahan, in the galley, was hum- 
ming Amazing Grace. 

You'll do more, though," Calla 
said. "For example, can you handle an 
M-167 

don't see ‘em every day. But I'm 
familiar with the weapon.” 

“We may be dealing with unpleasant 
people and we may have to defend our- 
selves. How's that grab you?" 

үң how it always is," Pablo 
After a moment, he said, "I hope you 
talking about the U.S. Coast 


w 


ist,” Negus said to him, “you 
think we plan to shoot it out with the 
goddamn U. S. Coast Guard? I was hop- 
ing you had more sense than that.” 

We won't be dealing with a 
authorities, We're not working 
jurisdiction and it's unlikely we'll even 
see them. So don't worry about that." 
ocal-type cops, maybe: 

“Not too likely, cither. If we have tha 
kind of problem, we tend to run. We'r 
a lot faster than we look. It's thieves 
Tm thinking about. We have a few сх 
changes to make with various parties 
that we'd like to see secure. Just so 
everybody keeps his side of the bargain." 

Pablo sipped his rum with satisfac- 
tion. It was everything he might have 
hoped. 

“You got the right man, no shit, Mr. 
Callahan. I never backed out of a hassle 
in my life and I never let my people 
down, ncither." 

“We your people?” Negus asked him. 
You treat me right, you're my people. 
Anybody that knows me knows that.” 

“We don't let our people down, ci- 
ther, Pablo,” Callahan told him solemn- 
ly, “and we've been in business a Jong 
ne.” 

Pablo raised his 
‘ood enough!” 

Deedee called from the galley, 
to help me out, Pablo?” 

Sure," Pablo said. 

In the galley, a soft merengue was 
coming in over a short-wave radio; Pablo 
: n's lower body, en- 


ands, palms up. 


"Want 


watched Mrs. С: 
cased in the tightest of faded denim 
jeans, sway mellifluously to its beat. She 


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was gathering metal plates from an over- 
head dish racl or the first time, he 
noticed a printed sign posted over the 
stove that read, YOU BETIER BELIZE IT. 
When she turned to him, he was laugh. 
ing at the sign. 

"What's funny. pardnerz* 
nd brushed the d: mp hair from around 
her es. He could not tell how old 
she was—40, more or less. Her face was 
1 sed around the eyes, sun-cured. 
When she set the dishes down on the 
counter beside the stove, he felt her 
ast brush his bare arm, the nipple 
distinct and distended under the soft 
cotton of her sweat shi 

“Just feelin’ good," Pablo said. 
lin’ good is easy," Mrs. Callahan 
said. She said it with such gravity that 
he felt compelled to reflection. 

“No,” he said after a moment. “Not 
хо еа 

They watched 
looking at him with 
still easing to the merengue. 
"Funny kind of boat this 
said. 

"Yes," Deedee assured him. "Th 
your basic funny boat. Now do so 
thing tor me, Pablo. Give the boys th 
vittles.” 

She took the steak from the pan and 
placed a strip on each of the four dishes. 
On cach dish she spooned out some of 
the greens from the stewpot, then hand- 
ed two of the plates to Pablo. She 
winked at him and motioned with her 
head toward the dining compartment. 

I goddamn well got her, Pablo was 
thinking. Any old damn time. 

He did not chafe under his servitude. 
He served Negus and Callahan gracious- 
ly. setting the steaming plates before 
them, 

Negus gave Pablo a brief bad eye in 
return. Pablo smiled. The man must 
know, he thought, what was passing be- 
tween himself and Mrs. Callah: 

There was a plate for him steaming in 
the galley; he took it down to the table 
and seated himself across from Negus 
Callahan. Mrs. Callahan joined 
presently, carrying her own plate 
and some salsa, salt and pepper on 

у. The Cloud took the gentle seas 
slow fore-and-alt pitch. 
lo s 


She smiled 


п, crea 


she was 
usement, 


Pablo 


id, break- 


“We'll do some shrimping by-and-by," 
allahan told him. “But—as you have 
undoubtedly surmised—shrimping is not 
how we make our way through life.” 
“Yeah,” Pablo said. “I surmised that; 
"What else you surmised? 
asked him. 
"You told me mot to ask questions, 
Pablo said, “so 1 didn't ask you 
” He looked around the table. ~ 
wil 


id to Negus, 


“you're the best seaman in the world, 
but you're a balls of a politician." He 
turned his soft look on Pablo. “What 
we're wondering, fella —you being late- 
ly in the Coast Guard and all that—is 
what you make of us. We're interested 
in your educated guess. 

"OK," Pablo said. “You're типп nr 
something. I would have said dope, but 
1 don't think so now. If you were going 
up to the States from a Dutch place like 
St. Joost, Td say diamonds. But you say 
you're not messing with the States.” He 
cut himself another piece of steak. 
puter parts, maybe. Calculators, 
that. Only this boat's not big enou 
for a high-scoring run wi kind of 
weight, And the whole deal feels sort 
of heavy-duty. Between one thing and 
another—guns. That's a good old-time 
trade." 

"Let me give you the word on a 
need-to-know basis, as it were," Callahan 
said. "You don't need to know where 
we're going. In a day or two, well be 
in Nieuw Utrecht on St. Joost, taking 
оп ice and groceries. After dark, we're 
loading cargo on the other side of the 
island. What we want from you is a 
little help with the groceries and what 
we especially want is you standing by 
while we take on the cargo. Also when 
we deliver it, because that's the moment 
of truth, hombre. You'll get to do some 
shrimping tomorrow night, too, in case 
re interested. You can figure on at 
t five h 4 a day for the next few 
at your Coast Guard pay." 
id. 
keep 
Because w 
happy. We insist on it 
I think everybodys gonna do all 

ight.” Pablo sa 

Everyone in the cabin laughed; Pablo 
found it disconcerting. 

When dinner was over, Negus and 
Callahan took their coffee to a small 
compartment aft of the central. cabin 
and closed the teak door behind them. 
Pablo found himself оп mess duty with 
the lady once again. 

She was smoking grass It was the 
strongest grass Pablo had ever drawn 
of and she seemed to take joint afte 
joint of it. After two or three tokes, the 
enveloping papers grew moist and tarry 
with resin. Pablo declined. When the 
washing up was finished, they went back 
10 the cleared table. 

“What brought 
Pablo? 
Just wandering around," he said. He 
as thinking that they were all the same. 
“You're Kind of a throwback, aren't 
you? In the jet age? 

"1 been on plenty of jets,” Pablo told 
her. 


like 


1 guess so," Pablo 
“Think 


you happy?" 
ave to keep 


you down here, 


t Guard 

iked it all right until they started 
g me around." 

I thought ul 


was what they werc 


all about.” 

“Some guys will sit still for anything.” 
Pablo explained. "They got no self 
respect. Any kind of militaristic wash, 
they don't object to it." 

Pablo had picked up the antimilitaris 
tic angle working at the Coast С 
district headquarters in Boston and in 
corporated it into his line. Tt had worked. 
fairly well with the girls around there, 
and Mrs. Callahan, though not so young 
and tenderhearted, seemed to be a lit 
tle like them. 

“So you got radicalized, is that it?" 

Pablo felt as though he had been soltly 
counterpunched. He rolled with it. 

“I had this сро. on my case who 
was like a fascist-type guy. He kept at it. 
so I coldcocked him. Broke his j 
was lookin 
So I skipped 

“Is that a literal story. Pablo," Mrs 

ked sympathetically, “or is 
mbolic? 
Pablo asked. He did not nec- 
essarily insist that women believe every 
that they were told, but he was not 
alling him a liar 

She put her joint down and looked 
sincerely thoughtful 

“The thing is" she said, "when you 
hear the same kind of story from a lot 
of different people, you wonder about 
the little details. Because no two things 
ever happen the same way, do they, 
Pablo?" 

"E guess not,” he said 

“OF course they don't. So you tell me 
that story and right away I want to 
know—bécause I'm a curious sort— 
whats special about Pablo Tabor. As 
opposed to all the other 


the G.p.o.’s jaw, and so forth 

Smart, he thought. But smart or not 
they were all the same. 

"A jaw got broke 
"and it wasnt mine. Somebody tried 
to fuck with me. So Tm over the hill 
and on this boat and that's my story." 

“And they call you Pablo. 15 that a 
nickname or wha 


пух who broke 


Pablo told her 


“Its my name," he told her. 

"But it’s Spanish.” 

“My mother was Indian,” Pablo said. 
It was true to an extent, but to what 
question lost in centuries. 

“L knew it" Mrs. Callahan said 
quiedy 

Thats what she goes for, Pablo 
thought. He had run across it before 
He are that she had eased her 
chair а he felt her body 
g in smooth, clean 


extent was a 


а 


again, her long l 
denim. 

“This funny boat where you live?” he 
asked her. 

“So it would seem,” she said. "It just 
id on." 


you don't like it too much.” 
“Tt has its moments." 
When he put his hand against her soft 


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217 


PLAYBOY 


sheathed thigh, she was suddenly somber. 

“Goodness,” she said. 

He slid his hand down to her knee 
nd back up, fingering an inner seam and 
the flesh it lined. With Callahan and 
Negus on the other side of a door, there 
was nothing more he dared do. 

“You take your pleasures where you 
find them, do you, Pablo? 

“My kind of life you do." 

Tine, too,” she said. 

She turned her head to look at him 
nd he saw that under the weathered 
the ous set wrinkles and the 
small boozy sacs below her eyes, there 
was something like a kid about her. 

"Hey," he said after a moment, “we're 
gonna get in trouble" He was embar- 
rassed at the standoff and his palms were 
beginning to sweat. 

"The woman laughed silently. “Trou- 


"Ain't we?" 

"Whats a little more trouble,” she 
asked, “on this funny boat?” 

‘The small teak door to the inner com- 
partment opened and Negus put his 
head out. In the moment, Pablo decided, 
Negus had scen all there was to see. 

“Jack would like you with us for a 
while, Deedee. If you don't mind.” 

She rose slowly from under Pablo's 
hand; her own hand touched his shoul- 
der. “Right you are. 

Negus was watching Pablo as he held 
the compartment door for Mrs. Calla- 
han. 

Why don't you get some sleep, son?” 

“Thought you might want me to take 
the wheel,” 

"We're all right. 
Well, OR, then." He stood up and 
stretched. "Guess ГЇЇ go back aft, then.” 

Negus nodded and they exchanged 
good night: 

Ambling back to the lazaret, Orion 
ablaze over the starboard quarter and 
the sea rolling easy under the boards, 
blo paused to lean over the rail. He 
was flushed and horny with his con- 
quest of the soft rich lady. As he 
lounged, scheming in the starry dark- 
ness, he became aware of voices sound- 
ing from somewhere in the innards of 
the boat. He was standing over the for- 
ward ice hold. The voices were those of 
Negus and Callahan. 
ablo took a look around and lowered 
nself into the halfcovered hold; its 
terior still smelled of shrimp. There 
Г inch of water on the flooring. 
Moving to the bulkhead closest to the 
Apartment in which he had taken 
ner, he pressed his ear against the 
mp boards. It was almost completely 
k where he stood, except for the scat- 
of stars visible beyond the edge 
of the hatch cover overhead. 
peaking of punks —" Negus began 
ying—but Callahan cut him olf. 
Speaking of punks—stay off the kid's 


was a 


218 back. I don't want him getting all dis- 


grunded and paranoid. We don't have 
to live with him long and he's going to 
come in handy.’ 

“Handy for what?" Negus asked. “For 
playing kneesies with Dee is all.” 

“You playing knecsies with him, Dee?" 
I confess," Pablo heard her say; he 
was startled. "I was playing hot kneesies 
with him. I dig him.” 

“IE you fuck him,” Callahan said, 
hat rather makes him one of the fam- 
ily. 1 think that’s going too far.” 

Negus uttered a series of low caution- 
ing obscenities. “I wish the governance 
around here would put its socks up. 
We're doing serious business and the 
whole vessel's stoned, drunk or sopered.” 

There was a brief silence and then 
laughter. 

“Pablo's all right," Callahan said. 
"For our purposcs. 

"He's a hardass" Negus admitted, 
"and that's good, if he knows his place 
in things." 

I think he does,” said Mrs. Callahan. 
"Pablo Tabor is one of life's little 
yoyos. He wants to please and hell do 
just fine.” 

His ear pressed against the cold, sweat- 
ing woodwork, Pablo's mind beheld the 
picture of a red yo-yo on a red, white 
and blue string with a store sticker on it 
that said, MADE IN JAPAN. Hc had forgot- 
ten that he was high; he was more puz- 
aed than angry. I’m gonna fuck her 
brains out, he thought. 

Negus was swearing again. "You sce 
the fuc weaponry he had on hi 
He was armed to the goddamn teeth. 
Shit!” 

Another silence and Negus said, “I 
just don't like him.” 

б 

At Serraño, on the windward shore of 
St. Joost, the frayed ends of a norther 
whipped the winch chains against the 
stabilizers and set the mooring lines to 
groaning. The dock lights showed soiled 
whitecaps speckling the milky harbor. 
Pablo worked the fuel line with one of 
the pier hands. 

Within an hour of tying up, they were 
almost clear. The crates of weapons, 
greased in creosote, were loaded in the 
holds on a waterproof tarp; the tar- 
paulin's ends were tucked down and 
the holds half-filled with 16-pound blocks 
of ice. 

When the loading was nearly com- 
plete, Pablo made his way into thc gal- 
ley and tried the locker in which his 
gun d been secured. It was still fast. 
He could hear the Callahans out on 
deck; Negus was at the dockside ove 
seeing cargo. Glancing about him, Pablo 
stepped silently into the pilothouse and 
had a look around. Beside the Modar he 
found two U. S. Coast Gu; 
laminated and stamped secret, and a 
Coast Guard frequency chart. Along with 
those were code books for the Tecanecan 


d code books, 


cs, all current, 
and so similar in type face and binding 
to the U.S, charts that it was apparent 
they had been put together by the same 
outfit. Beneath the frequency chart was 
a bulky unsealed envelope with a Florida 
address penciled across it. There were 
papers of some sort inside and some 
sealed white packets that felt to Pablo's 
imaginative touch as though they might 
contain cash. He picked up the envelope 
and went back to the galley 

He was at the point of easing the seal 
off one of the small packets, when he 
heard footsteps approaching; there was 
only time for him to tuck the whole en- 
velope beneath his shirt. As casually as 
he could, he turned to draw a beer from 
the galley cooler. He took it along with 
him through the hatch and onto the 
pier. 

Without looking back, Pablo strolled 
away from the boat, out of the light, fol- 
lowing a dirt road. Across the bay, the 
lights of an oil refinery glowed like the 
lights of a phantom city. Above them, 
on a cactus-covered hillside deep in d 
ness, were the dim scattered lights of 
Serrano. 

Pablo leaned against the fender of one 
of the parked trucks and took the enve- 
lope from beneath shirt. It was filled. 
with bills and invoices; the white packet 
he had opened contained not money but 
rolls of form slips bound with rubber 
bands; in the kness, he could make 
out. none of it. No help. Dumbness—he 
was losing his judgment. Now he would 
have to get the whole business back un- 
der the chart before it was missed or 
he was caught with it. He put the cn- 
velope under his arm, leaned against the 
truck and closed his eyes. Homesickness 
and suspicion oppressed him. 

These people, he thought—he had 
misread them. They had seemed so soft 
at first, so easy. In fact, he was fallen 
among tricksters whose every word had 
20 m ps and who had power over 
him. They were turning him around. 

He reached into his shirt pocket and. 
took out his Benzedrine; it seemed to 
him that he would need a little more 
this time, an extra jolt to get straight. 
He put down three tablets with a swal- 
low of beer. 

nme a rush, Jesus," Pablo said 
into the darkness. “If you want me for 
a sunbeam.” 

The refinery lights danced before his 
eyes, his rush came up dappled, crack- 
ling in his brain. Old rages rose in his 
throat. 

Turning from the lights. he saw that 
Negus was standing at the edge of the 
road, watching him. He had no idea how 
long the man had been there. 

“Whar you doin’, Tabor?" Negus 
asked him softly. “What you got under 
your arm there?" 

Pablo twisted his mouth into a kind 


of smile, Neither man could see the When Deedee came back, Negus man, you copy? Over.” 
other's face. turned on her. Well, well" Callahan s 

“Drinking a brew here,” Pablo s "Where's the kid? . 

Negus went up and slid the envelope — "He's up forward," she said. "He's in ie Truman, Waterbrothers. Copy 
from under the grip of Pablo’s elbow. some kind of sulk. You ever see a speed real well. What kind of night you have 

“Get yourself back aboard. son.” freak uying really hard not to talk? up there? 

Pablo let his beer can fall and start- That's how he is. You know something, — "Waterbrothers, Marie Truman. $ 
ed toward the dock. After a step, he Jack, baby? I don’t like this too wel ight. Scraping the rocks. We got us a 
whirled on the п behind him. ^You could have fooled m awfish bill. Over 

You're turnin’ me around, mı “He is bad news. He n grinned at Negus. 

et on back, "Then well kill him Truman, Waterbrothers. Don't 
blo drew himself upright, his fists close to him. We'll want to throw that away, hear? It’s worth forty 
e clenched. what's on his mind.” bucks on the beach, over.” 
Motherfucker,” m and > this time its me who gets to "Waterbrothers, Marie Truman, We'll 


." he said. х 
ns... shit be cut a couple of drink, if I'm supposed to stay close to — see you all up to С Dios tome 
п. you think you can turn me 


id. "There 


w 


your pl 
ways, т 
around." 
Negus stood 
envelope, waiting for 
Pablo held his ground fo 


And its you that stays sober. Ве- row. Have a nice day, over.” 
se hes not dumb and you better Marie Truman," Callahan said, "this 
notionless, holding the be on top of th js Waterbrothers. You have a good one, 
1 to move. “You're right, of course." too. Out 

moment “Damn straight,” Deedee said. "Some “Isn't he a darling 


he asked Neg 


15, 


and then eased off in the direction of fun, hey, boss?” "He's playing he's a Texas boat. And 
the bo: “That's what we're here for," Cal. he's got what we want and we have 


. Jahan said. at he wants." 

In the pilothouse, Callahan was set- . That guy speaks gringo awful good." 
g his Rolex to the time signals from Alb night they steamed with the sta- Negus said. "God help us if th 
Corn Island. Negus went in ond put  bilizers down. rolling almost danger- guardia we’ 
the envelope he had taken from Pablo ously before a dying northeast swell. got a lot of Yankee know-how 
down beside the Modar. At dawn, a 

“We got real trouble with our boy, massed over a solitary mount: 
Jack. E just took this off him. He's been southward. Clouds there seemed to slip a thing or you don't. Now we are doing 
going through our papers." away reluctantly on the wind^and were this thing, so lets carry оп and do 
allahan looked at the envelope. replaced by others that. singly or in without bitching all the time.” 
"Nothing in there of any consequence. ks. came over the flat far horizon “Goddamn that guy," Negus said. 

Negus flushed. “Well, that ain't hard- and made straight for the veined slopes . 
ly the point, is it, for Christ's sake? that were brightening to green. It was With the sun below the green saw- 
He's snooping around. And some rati, an Ignacio, once English. then Colom- toothed ridges of the coast, darkness 
he give me when I took it off him. The pian and Panamanian by turns, now its gathered quickly. Venus was the evening 
son of a bitch was out there taking own, or anyone's, island. sur. She hung low over the western 
pills and reading our mail, Jack.” In the wheelhouse, Negus maneuvered horizon and the unbroken sea beneath 
“He's an idiot. Probably thought there rhe dial on the Cloud's V.H. asit was dulled to the color of 
азоо) the cabin hummed with submarine static The wind rose in that quarter, 
"Now, how," Negus demanded, “how ang faint Spanish voices. He and Cal а roll beneath the Cloud's coun- 
п hell we gonna go up against that coast Jahan looked at cach other and sat back — terfeit boards but nowhere breaking the 
таап ыц huma t. Callahan glanced at his watch. skin of the sea's expanse. Across the sky 


By keeping him in line a g as we 8 A 5 
y Keeping d as long as ме Quite shortly, what might well have — Deneb and Vega twinkled beyond а 
want him, that's how. I think we're up › 


roseate raft of clouds was them.” 
n 


to ‘Ah, Fred,” Callahan sighed 


. receiver: 


tow 


been an American voice came in loud — calligrapher's stroke of purple nimbus. 
to it. We need him for the shore run | " 
S Р and clear. Negus. holding to the wheel, had 
and that's that. He can't pull any stunts $ P Р E 
Waterbrothers, this arie Tru- pulled the nightshade down behind the 


on that part of the operation, he'll be 
100 out of his depth. 
“Ah, Jack," Negus said, "I don't know, 
boss. 
"Here we ele m told hii 
“We've paid and we've loaded cargo. 
We can't quit now. E bet the ranch on 
this run. We've got to go, Freddy. We 
must," 
Callahan closed his eyes, rested an 
elbow on the chart table and put his 
hand over his eyes. "Listen to me, 
Freddy. We won't have moncy on board 
until we deliver. Pablo wants to do us, 
s the money he's aler. We сап keep 
him in line until then." | 
“Maybe. What about th 
“Then,” Callahan said, “kill him. In 
fact, he's yours for the whole run. If 
you seriously feel he's more trouble < 
than he's worth, deep-six him. FIL leave UE 
it to your discretion." 
Negus was silent for a while. Callahan 
turned in his seat to read the tide tables. 


PLAYBOY 


220 caress of sor 


wheelhouse. Callahan, a drink in one 
hand, stood at the chart table. "Let me 
he s; 


Negus said, shielding his 
eyes from the glow of the deck lights. 
“It's on your loran chart.” 


“L got it,” Callahan said. He т 
the coordinates [rom the rad. on 
his lineotsight chart and ХА in the 


aviation beacon. They were waiting for 
the boat to swing [ull around on its 
chain 

“Two dock lights at sixty degrees off 
the beacon, Over them there's a building 
with a cross oi $ hope those dock 
lights are on all egus said. 
"But whoever th be using 
generator, because there's no electricity 
out h 

“They'll be on.” Callahan said 
were told they'd. be on.” 

He marked the dock lights on. his 
handmade chart and put it under the 
Bowditch. 

Now,” he said, 
the custome: 

The C.B. was silent 


“We 


s time to talk to 


as Negus dialed 


" 


the 


"José," Negus said into 
you get those pumps for me? 
“Absolutely, Mr. Fry." It was a dif 
nt voice but relaxed, casy with Eng- 


night, 


“That's just fine,” Negus said and 
hung up the receiver. “Think he sees 
n. 

“No question about it,” Callahan said. 
Callahan called for Deedee and Pablo. 


ablo watched Callahan unlock the 
gear locker in which his automatic had 
been stowed. There were half a dozen 
other pistols beside it and a small auto- 
matic rifle of forcign make. Seeing his 
weapon. Pablo took a step toward it. 
"Leave it where it is," Negus snapped 
t him. 

“Let him take i Uahan said p 
ently. "Just don't wave it at pasing 
ating,” he ex- 
d guns when 
me, lets 
few 
ing 


our 


for keys 
hurry. In the mea 
everyone remember that 
miles offshore with all our lights bl. 
like Christmas. So lets preserve 
workaday respectability and demeanor 
and don't use this stuff we need to. 
Which, of course, we all hope we will 
not. 


мете a 


ablo, 
imping." 
1 don't follow you there,” Pablo 
“Mrs. Callahan will explain." He put 
his hand beside his wife's car; it was a 
“And while you're out 


you 


on deck, Dee, put a watch cap over your 
hair, OK? So you'll look like a gringo 
shrimper Rhine maide: 

She went into her quarters and came 
ош in work gloves and white shrimpers 
boots, a black watch cap pulled down 
to her eyebrows. She took the rum bottle 
and a handful of joints down from the 
shelf. 

“Hey, man," she said, eying the le 
of the bottle, "I thought it was you 
staying sober tonight. I thought it 
me could get snackered.” 

"You may get as snackered as you sec 
the need of.” Callahan told he 
Pablo went up on deck and C: 
ised an eyebrow at her. "Wh: 
Pablo situation 

"He's quiet," 

"Well" Callahan id thoughtfully, 
“tell him a little about things and make 
bim feel important. But don't let him 
get drunk and lose his splendid air of 
authority. Keep him otherwise occupied." 

"EH massage his cock while he hea 
shrimp, how's that?’ 

They passed the be 

. 

Pablo and Deedee sat under the work 
lights aft of the ice hatches, mounted 
on upturned shrimp baskets. Belore 
them, under the bright lights, was a 
living creeping jambalaya, a rapine of 
darkness and depth, In thousands, crea- 
tures of delirium—shelled, hooded, 50- 
legged and six-eyed—clawed, writhed, 
flapped or devoured their way through 
the mass of their fellow captives, the 
predators and the prey together, over- 
thrown and blinded, scuttling alter their 
Jost accustomed world. 

Dig in ablo, buddy," Deedee said. 
"I guess you k shrimp when you 
sce one, right" 

Pablo stared silently 


and not 


‘sth 


tle around а; 


o the mass of 
. He leaned 
rd, picked up a shrimp and looked 
n his palm. 

Теге you go,” Deedee said, "that's 
ight there. When you have a basket 
full of those little fellas, you stick it 
down in the hold. If we were the hon- 
est folk we pretend to be, we'd take the 
heads and legs off. But we're not, so we 
won't.” 

He did not care for the way she 
watched him. She was smiling and high, 
but there was a guilty wariness beneath 
her chatter and high spirits. Pablo knew 
little about shrimping, but he believed 
he knew rather a lot about female anxi- 
ety. How they looked when they wer 
turning you around. How they smiled 
when they were scared, 

He crushed the shrimp he was holding 
n his right fist and with the fingers of 
his left hand, pulled its head off. The 
gesture of petty violence seemed in no 
way to alarm her. She went on looking 
him happily in the eye, but he knew 
she had scen and interpreted his 


fe 


threat. She was very tough, he thought, 
she was different from other women. 
He kept hîs gaze fastened on her and 
she looked back at him until he [clt 
foolish. He was beginning to hate he 
He was beginning to be alraid of her, of 
her more than the others. He could not 
be sure whether she was only teasing 
him or really coming on now. It w 
like it kept changing. Confused and in- 
creasingly angry, he could think of only 
one strategy and that was to listen and 
wait and sound her 

“You gotta be crazy.” he said. "I mean. 
you gotta be crazy, a good-looking wom- 
ike you out here on this turkey 
That makes two of us,” she 


id. 


" Pablo 1. "But Fm just 
passing through." So saying, he shud- 
dered. He felt à nearly prayerful hope it 

ght be true. 

а cold сус" Deedee said. 
on death. Horseman, pas 

by" " She was weirdness itself. 

Within 45 minutes, they had enough 
filled baskets to cover the ice completely 
in one hold and to cover half of it in the 
second. Pablo stood on the ice blocks, re- 
ceiving the baskets from Deedee as she 
passed them down. When the shrimp 
were stowed, she got the stabilizer en- 
gines going and he helped her spread 
the dragline again. They sat down on 
their baskets and drank some rum. It 
was good light Puerto Rican rum, better 
than the stull they usually brought out. 

^A very fine place for shrimping,” 
Deedee said. “If we're ever in that line 
again, w ve to remember 

Pablo looked out at the surrounding 
ocean. There were other boats in sight 
now, four or five of them, lit and work- 
ing. 

"Could be the fisheries patrol come 
down on us any minute," Pablo said. He 
said it to have something to say, bitching 
to bring her down and to make himself 
feel better 

"I wouldn't worry about that, Pab, 
weve never been boarded, ever. They 
check out the numeral and the colors. 
When they're close enough to see you're 
gringo, they leave you alone. Unless, of 
course, they're looking for you. 

"But that won't happen, will i 

She took a drink of rum and passed 
him the bottle. 

“Well, Ih 
the boss hasn't and 
you?" 
hat's a joke, ain't i 
fes," she said, "ain't it?’ 
“The 
y. nodding tow 
know that. 

7M they don't trust you, they must 


nything. And 
reddy hasn't. Have 


he said sullen- 
1 the wheelhouse, 


have a reason. What would the reason 
be?” 

You playin’ cop or somethin’, Mrs 
Callahan?” 


Meu uia s cael 

` [Imagination has 

e reality 
i моле аап / 


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y Wu © 1980 Fuji Photo Film U.S.A.. Inc., Magnetic Tape Division, 350 Fifth Avenue, NY. NY 10118 


TAA 


PLAYBOY 


aalmeid 
yad noauol 


ж qarta | 
тата зит 
Don 


Я Irscrystalcle : 
It’s a bit more expensive, but fora crisp Gin & Tonic, 
the world comes to Gordon's: 


“We're playing pirate,” she said. 

€ to trust you. do they. Other- 

wise, you'd be the plank. That's 

how it is in pirate.” 
While he was thinking of an answer, 

han came alt and looked at the 

the holds. “Real good, shrimp 


C 


catch 


people,” he said. "Now let's bring the 
nes up again. We're running out of 
time." 


There were not so many shrimp in 
the second catch and they had to pad 
the baskets with chipped ice and junk 
fish to get the second hold covered. 
Negus came out and worked with them 

ntil the nets were secured and the 
hatches tight over the holds. Pablo ob- 
served that Callahan was drunk again. 
Even Negus in his silent dispatch did 
not seem altogether sob 

When Callahan and Negus went back 
to the wheelhouse, Deedee stayed where 
she was, cuddled against Pablo. Pablo 
reached into his pocket and swallowed 
the last of his Benzed 

‘The drug's action when it came was 
disappointing and curious. For a fraction 
of a second, he could not remember 
where he was and he was overcome with. 
fear. But the rush passed, and then he 
was better. He asked her for more rum 
nd while he drank it, she held to his 
arm. For a while, he w: n and sad. 
and grateful to have her beside him. 

“You're a good man," she told him 

soothingly. “You're OK and you're go- 
i to be even better.” 
“J like the sound of that,” Pablo told 
her, and then he laughed. Almost gig- 
gled. She seemed sympathetic; she 
laughed with him. 

"How long you been with that man?” 
he asked her. 

“Forever,” she sa 
laughed again. 

She rolled 
little more. 

“If you been with him forever," Pablo 
asked, "how come youre coming on to 
m 


„ and they both 


joint and they drank a 


Heavens to Betsy" she said, "I 
thought you'd ne I didn't think 
you noticed 

‘They laughed at that, too. They were 
smoking her heavy Ja п weed. 

“Thing Pablo said, “I don't un- 
derstand. Things been happening and I 
don't understand. Like something was 
going on." 

“Something's always going on," she 
And while he was trying to read 
her look, all the lights went out. Only 
the instrument lights in the wheelhouse 
showed, reflected in the windshield and 
the faint glow of the interior lights from 
between the louvered shutters over the 
saloon housing. The Cloud shifted 
course again and somcone—Ncegus— 
came out on deck and opened the 
engine panel. When he slammed it shut 


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again, the boat began to pick up speed. 
The whole frame of the vessel shud- 
dered, a wind picked up where there 
had been little more than a steady 
breeze—the Cloud was running like a 
ash boat. 

Away we go," Deedee said. 

‘The sensation of moving at such speed 


what seemed an ordinary shrimp boat 
as dreamlike, almost comical. Pablo 
stared down at the white water that 
rushed under their bow. 
Deedee on a basket near the 
lazaret hi hugging herself, a knit 


down before you fall over, Pablo, 
she said. “We're going faster tham you 
think. Let's get out of this wind and 
Momma will tell you how it 

When she sat herself down on thc 
chafing gear in the lazaret, he sat De- 
side her. It was the first close touch he 
had of her since the night in the galley 
that seemed so long before. He was 
fighting to hold Pablo now, to hold 
thin himself the thinking, calculating 
Pablo—because even as he sat with her, 
that self was being crowded out by lust 
and a shadow. 

She pushed his cap off and brought 
his head against her shoulder and put 
her chin on top of his head. 

“This is how it is, Pablo,” she began. 
Pablo closed his eyes to listen. 

“We have some boys to deal with on 
the coast here and we don't know who 
they are. It could occur to them to take 
our goods, our boat, everything—and 
pitch us over the side. Its happened 
So we need a little display of sincerity. 
We need a crazy old boy like you who's 
so mean and nastylooking they think 
he might feed them a few just to hear 
the funny noi Then 
look at it from . Everything's 
C.O.D. Maybe it's a little old-fashioned, 
but that's us, see, that's the way we do 
it. They've got money for us. Now, we 
might just take their moncy and do 
them in—that's happened, too." 

She ran her fingers along the back of 
his neck. 
So. So, honcy'—cuddling him— 
they come out in their boat and we load 
the stufl. You go along so everybody 
feels all right. They usually have to 
make more than one trip and going in 
they'll feel better, because even if they 
don't have all of their delivery, they 
have you. And you'll be riding along 
looking so bad and crazy that whatever 
they'd like to do—they'll decide it makes 

I зе to stick to the de: th 


g you back with the last load. W 
take our money. Buena suerte and viva 
la causa, that’s it. It's not a desperate 
situation even today. Its got rules. 
You're riding shotgu 

He began to laugh or by now it was 
the shadow. He listened to her laugh as 
well. 


Then he peeled the sweat shirt off her 
and licked her breasts, the nipples, 
above them, below and around, the nip- 
ples themselves again. 
azy stuff." she said. "Crazy stuft.” 

Her vatch cap had fallen off and her 
hair spread out among the strands of 
fing gear. She was thrusting her ass 
ast him—soft, round, damp under 


the wet film of denim—unzipping his 
Пу. She forced him back against the bale; 


said. It 
But by 
teeth ag; 


j. Then she г 
Ч feet like a cat 


i 
encased her. Naked, she lay facing him 
ainst the e. Pablo took off his shirt 
belt until his dungarees 


you have a lady, Т 
Vever you fud 
е answered h 
nd putting it between her thighs 
and the skin there was as smooth as the 
surface of a glass of buttermilk on a 

ay. She closed his hand over 
thumb in the cleft of her but- 
fingers playing over the down 
He put his face into her neck, 
and then, wanting it without delay, put 
his face between the thighs and with his 
mouth and tongue, took all such pleas- 
ures there as he could see or imagine. 
She had wriggled part way up the heaped 
bale until her body was above his, and 
with her posture strangely erect, her 
head thrown back, slipped down on him 
time after time, impaling herself, until 
they both had come. 

Deedee was still moaning softly when 
he saw that the hatch at the top of the 
ladder was pried open. He could make 
out the stars. 

“The hatch,” he said. 

She reached out for her bag and the 
bottle. 


ed of trouble?” 

From the way she 1, he could not 
tell if it was challenge or consolation, 
so he did not answer. 

"We're not having trouble on this 
boat," she told hit iot about you and 
me, And the reasons for that I cannot 
tel] but in another da 

So, w he settled down, and 
though he did not like the way she 
had spoken to him, presently he was hard 
Or it might have been the shad- 
ow’s lust. He took her once more, trying 
now to hurt her—but she could not be 
hurt in that way; every thrust he ma 
she somehow met yielding, as 
though she were ready for every mo- 
ment. So he could not hurt her, could 
not gentle or humiliate her. And when 


met, 


he started to come and to pull out, she 
held him, letting go little by little as it 
pleased her, until he was seeing lights 
on the overhead and he thought he 
would pass out cold. 

He was very high, higher than he had 
ever been. His thoughts twisted off into 
spools, arabesques, snatches of music 

Deedee was putting her clothes on 
Automatically, he buckled his trousers. 

"Don't you have any gentleness in 
asked 

He looked toward her unseen face. 
Fear sat on his chest, its talons in the 
muscles of his breast. He had seen a 
shadow pass the hatch. He was certain. 

“You mustn't be afraid," she told him 
softly 
Hearing her say it was a terrible thing 

him. 

Someone's up there,” he said. 

“That could be, Pablo. It's all right." 
All right. And ће was in a rank-smell- 
ing trap at a loss to understand how he 
had got there. Beside him in the dark 
ness, his soft-bodied enemy soothed him 
in a voice like gold wire. 

“Hey, hey,” she said, nudging him 
slightly, "it's all right, my man," 

All right. But they were going to kill 
him. Hc had been through the question 
before and u 
come out. 

You set me up," he told her. 

“Don’t be silly,” she said firmly. 

As she said it, he stopped trembling. 
She had set him up and there was no 
more to it. He was among crazy people, 
in an empty landscape tasting of salt 
rubber, smelling of scale and death 
They were about killing him. He sat 
very still, waiting for her to move, lis 
tening lor sounds on the deck above. 

"Seule down, now,” she said, as 
though she were talking to a horse. 

He was quite settled down now. There 
was no more reality to him than to the 
blossoming bougainvillaca he thought 
to sce in the darkness or to the music 
that he heard. Things were inside out, 


you, boy?” she 


for 


at was the way it had 


but he was strong. 
He made a loop of the cha 


line 


in 
and by a blind stroke caught her around 
the throat. One of her hands came up 
to struggle with the noose, but the other 
was reaching into darkness. Pablo, twist 
ing the line with all his strength, his 
mind serene, took a moment to react. 
Deedee E 
she had taken from her bz 
him h. 


»ught up the butt of the pistol 
and cracked 
d across the upper lip. nearly 
getting the underside of his nose. He let 
go of the line and went after the pistol; 
he could not see what had hit him, but 
he knew it must be one. 

She was shouting now, shouting for 
her husband in a choked nightmare 
voice. When he had forced the pistol 
from her right hand, he pressed his head 


nst her chest to keep it low 


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PLAYBOY 


226 


and took his own Nambu from beneath 
his scabag. 

There was true light in the space now. 
On the ladder, someone with a flashlight 
was searching out the darkness. Pablo 
rolled her across his body—it was as 
though they were making love again— 
teeth were sunk in his arm. As she 
passed over him, he jammed the barrel 
of the Nambu under her sweat shirt and 
fired. He felt her tecth release him, she 
was flung onto her knees beside the bale. 
"Two shots came from the ladder, at least 
one of them striking the woman. She 
rolled over on her side, her knees still 
together. The compartment was spinning 
with illum ions; Pablo thought of fire- 
flics, wet sparkplugs. His cars were һаш- 
mered shut. Against the flat lower section 
of the bulkhead, he was unhurt. When 
he fired at the man who was on the 
ladder, he did so with confidence, as 
though he had nothing but time. And in 
à second, even though the man there had 
thought to turn off his flashlight, he 
knew he had been on target. He heard 


the shuffle, the groan, the gun strike the 
ladder's bottom step and slide across the 
deck. As the man fell, his flashlight 
dicked on and he lay behind its beam 
invisible and motionless. Pablo sat pant- 
ng in the darkness, waiting for the fig- 
ure behind the light to move. The 
moment he started to his feet, there was 
another flash; Pablo's leg went out from 
under him and his head struck the slant- 
ing bulkhead. He knelt and fired two 
shots into the space behind the lights 
beam. There was a groan and a man 
spoke—it was Callahan—but Pablo 
could not make out what he said. Then 
Pablo discovered himself to be shot; 
there was a bleeding wound in the thick 
part of his calf, in the back. He ran his 
finger along the shinbonc and found it 
unbroken. The bullet might only have 
cut him and passed through, but it hurt 
He would be all right, he thought. He 
had power enough to fox them all and 
live. There was another one. 

From the open deck above, he heard 
Negus’ voice calling the Callahans by 


“My wife! My best friend! My eunuch!” 


name. He began to go up the ladder 
backward, sitting for a while on each 
step. Negus’ voice sounded far away, 
carried off by the wind. At last, Pablo 
was sitting framed іп the hatchway. 
There was no sign of a light. His head 
bent low, he glanced around his shoulder 
and saw Negus, holding a shotgun and 
crouching anxiously beside the after- 
hatch. 

“Jack?” Negus asked, and reached for 
a light he had set down on the hatch 
cover. 

As Negus reached for it, Pablo turned 
full around, got off a shot, then flung 
himself out of the hatchway and scut- 
tled across the slimy deck like one of 
the creatures that had swarmed there 


during the evening. His shot, he knew, 
had missed. His leg throbbing, he 
crawled for darkness, his steelhcarted 


killer's trance deserting him. Negus was 
after him, rounding the hatch for a 
shot. Pablo, terrified now, cowered alon, 
side the scuppers; he had three shots in 
the Nambu and the light was bad. Then 
he saw Negus stumble backward, make 
two little capering backward steps and 
I back against the hatch cover. The 
shotgun discharged heavenward. 

Pablo, uncertain of what he was sce- 
ing. came to realize that Negus had 
slipped on the deck. It was a miracle of 
God. He hesitated for a moment, 
Negus try to bring the gun to bear and 
shot him. It seemed to him that he had 
missed again. Negus dropped the shot- 
gum on the deck and was looking down 
at it, cursing softly. He turned toward 
Pablo. 

“You stop, you hear? Just stop it!” 
There was a catch in his voice. He was 


h 


saw 


Pablo lowered his gun. 

“Don't yell at me no more, Mi 
Get back there against the rail.” 

When Negus stood clear, Pablo low- 
cred himself on his good leg and picked 
up the shotgun. 

“Ob, you dirty monkey,” Negus said. 


r. Negus. 


"You little son of a bitch. What'd you 
do?" 
He seemed furious. Pablo felt as 


though he had done something wrong. 
heyre down there,” Pablo said, 
pointing to the lazaret hatchway. "You 
look down there, you'll see the 

Negus walked stiflly to the flashlight 
on the hatch cover, took it and went to 
the top of the lazaret ladder 
stood behind him, keeping him on the 
top step as he played the beam over 


blo 


the silent spacc. 
"You diry fucking monkcy," Negus 
id. 
turning me around, 


You was, too." 
Well, they ain't turnin’ you 
no more, bucky 
d 


'ound 
Negus said. “They're 
d. You killed them. 
Well, they were,” Pablo 


id. He felt 


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remorse and disgust. 

Negus sat down on the hatch, his arms 
folded over his stomach. “Now what we 
got, kid, is a Mexican standoff. You 
know what I me 

"No," Pablo said. But he was in- 
nd encouraged to hear things 
t way. 
ng. [ got a slug in my gut. 
I don't know but that. . . ." He let it 
“But youre hurting, too, kid. You 
t get nowhere from here. Nothing 
that coast for you now. You'll pile 
up or the guardia! get you or 
bleeding, boy, 
s, you see what I 


PLAYBOY 


on 
her 
the pirates will. You 


you're drawing s 
now? 
Negus stood up and leaned on the rail 
few feet away from him. 

1 ke this vessel anywher 
can get us anywhere, Clear." 

"How?" Pablo asked. 

Negus grew enthusiastic. 

"Oh, by Jesus Christ, boy, why, plenty 
of places. San Ignacio. Colombia. One 
of the islands there. 1 got friends 
i them places. 1 can get us 
We can sell our goods, man. Emeralds. 
We can get them.” He was trying to see 
Pablo's face in the faint light that came 
from the cockpit. He was smiling 

“What would you tell them there? If 
we got to Colombia—one of them 
places? 

“Well, a thousand things. A thousand 
things. hell..." He w ag faster 
and he began to laugh. “They dont give 
a goddamn what you done or where you 
been if you got cash or goods. We'd 
have it mad 

Pablo was straining toward hope. That 
it might all be true. There were mo- 
ments when they both believed it all. 

Negus drew his breath painfully and. 
encouraged, went on. 

"Listen, Pablo. You're изи 


g twenty 


gallons an hour out here. More than 
that. More. You gon' to be sailing in 
circles.” 

When Pablo did not reply, he grew 
more heated. 


You be out here, boy, you'll see 
things day and night. Stuff. that ain't 
there. I know what I'm talking about. 
You don’t ever want to be alone out 
here, because the stuff. you'll see, 
times it ain't there and sometimes it i 
When it is, it’s worser. I know. I'm the 
one that knows. And me ta 
old shoe, we'll be home free. 
They know me, man. The 
He laughed 
nd P: 


breath, 


Pablo looked at his weary enemy and 

was sorry 
‘Well, OK," he said. "Let's do 

Negus’ delight was so great tl 

as he was, Pablo couldn't keep from 

228 laughing. The old dude was whooping 


and shouting like the drunkard he was, 
going on about emeralds and cocaine 
and pri „ and his face was 
happy istmas morning when Pablo 
blew him away. 


. 

He missed them, that was it. A crazy 
way to feel, because they were low-down 
people, they were just shit as people, 
nd they had certainly been turning 
him around. 

Then he thought of speed and how 
that would be the ticket. On his way to 
sleeping quarters, he stopped in the 
pilothouse and looked over the naviga- 
tional g The compass bi ng was set 
for zero zero zero and the constant. null 
tone signified that this was where it 
should be. On the chart table, he found. 
allahzn's rough line-of-sight chart; in 
one corner, Callahan had written the 
loran digits he had noted at the spot. 
For the moment, things were all right, 
but later, up near the reef, he would 
have to do his own stecring and find the 
marker in darkness. And there would be 
the men on the coast. 

He took a light and went into the 
head where the shower was and found 
an unlocked cabinet under the sm 
sink. Up front there were firstaid kits 
and soap and every kind of downer, 

i oe powder, ginseng, exoti 
poos. Not until he was on the edge 
of despair did he find a small bottle 

ining six Desoxyn and a jar of 
"Killing tablets. Не bent hi 
against the shelf in gratitude. He 
deck of the head, swallowed two Desoxyn 
and one of the de a 
bandage for his wounded leg. There 
were no exit or entry holes, only a 
scythe-cut wound along the back. It did 
not seem serious; there was not much 
blood. He would do. 

"The Callahans would have to go over 
with Negus now. 

Pablo hobbled up on deck. taking two 
stationary flashlights with him. Scanning 
the night horizon, he saw no lights in 
view; he would have to risk some light 
of his own to get the thing done. He 
seized an of chain and, grasping 
it under his arm, eased himself painfully 
down the ladder, pulling a web of coiled 
line behind 1. 

He came to Callahan first and linked 
two sections of chain under the dead 
агу fleshy shoulders. When he thought 
the links were secured, he went top- 
side and set the trinet bar to hauling 
upright. The coils and chain with thei 
burden rattled up the hatchway like a 
receding tide, With Callahan netted and 
swinging above the deck, Pablo loosened 
the chain from his shoulders, 
swung the bar outboard and Callahan 
rolled off into the quiet occan and 
disappeared. 

A second time, like a diver, Pablo 
descended into the lazaret compartment, 


und 


dragging chain behind him. He found 
her casily enough and pulled her into 
the coils. Her death's darkness smelled 
of suntan oil. 

She did not go readily as her husband 
had. The colorless hair, almost phos- 
phorescent over the water, spread itself 
among the coils, her sweat shirt was 
caught on a cross wire, her legs were 
wrapped in the chains. In the end, he 
had to take his light to the rail and cut 
her free from the webbing. The chains 
snapped loose and then, upright, her 
hair held at its ends by the coils that 
enshrouded her like a veil, she fell. 
Wide-cyed, as though eight fathoms held 
some new curiosity—like a figurehead, 
dolorous, an image of the destiny—feet- 
first into the w 
eventually 


blo made himself stand 
up and, looking ahead, found that he 
could make out a line of mountains 
above the horizon. One tiny light glowed 
steadily between the dark curve of the 
ridge and the field of stars. It would 
be the aviation beacon. Within minutes, 
he could sce the dock lights that wei 
marked on Callahan's chart. 

Reefs, he thought in sudden panic, 
the bottom was marbles. 

Staggering, his mouth dr 
ү to the wheelhouse and decreased 


his wa 


running speed: the Fathometer reading 
had plunged to ten feet. 


mindless flight possessed him 
gan to pray. At every heading, the knife- 
spined bottom rose to destroy him. At 
last, he cut the engine and dropped the 
hook. 

"Ave Maria Purisima,” 
pered, and the Cloud rose on the in- 
coming swell and slowly turned her prow 
d open ocean. Then, step by throb- 
hg step, he went out and lay down on 
the fouled boards beside the forward 
hatch, gathering Negus’ shotgun to his 


In a little while, he heard engines, 
olf but closing fast. They were coming, 
the dreaded, the expected. 

A feather of spray struck his face and 
shoulders and he began to shiver, until 
the spasms convulsed him totally. He 
clutched the shotgun and clenched his 
teeth. Waiting. Like he was back home 
in a blind in the cold before dawn 
Deep in the brake, where there was no 
one to turn him around. 

He listened to the engines growing 
louder. When he looked up, he saw 
Polaris and the attendant Dipper. Cold- 
est of sta 

He had made himself a world, he 
thought, а world of empty ocean and 
cold stars. In it he was finally free. 

As he waited, his finger on the triggei 
he thought how, in that world, he him- 
self and the swarming creatures in the 
holds were all that was alive. 


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230 


SEXUAL DETENTE/HARRISON (continued [rom page 96) 


“I think any woman who avidly pursues men as fod- 
der for her anger invites self-degradation.” 


L could always bring myself—just bare- 
ly—to see his point. 

Whenever possible, I spend half an 
hour of my day watching a TV show p 
duced and broadcast in the New Yor 
area, on which three women, not ac 
tresses, discuss problems “touching on 
the lives of women." (That's what the 
announcer says, over organ. music, whe 
he introduces what I suppose is meant 
to be reallife soap opera. structured 
very much like a consciousnessraising 
group.) One day, а female guest, an ex- 
pert on depression by virtue of the fact 
that she had once been depressed, told 
the regulars why women get depresse 
They give too much. she said: like, just 
that Christmas, she had filled her kids’ 
Christmas stockings; and had they filled 
hers? 


ving. 
So I got mad at her. y 
pr s on her behalf, petitioning th 

the day on which she had nobody to give 
to would soon come 
she like (wi? Then, of course, 1 


ıd how would 
felt 


guilty. Because 1 could bring myself- 
just barely—to see her point. 
. 

I knew a woman once who made very 
pretty dresses for her little girls. That's 
what she used to say: “I sew my daugh- 
1 Then, be- 
cause her consciousness had be sed 
and she didn't wish to regard tradition- 
al women's activities as trivial, she took 
g herself a clothes designer. The 
activity was the same, but the change in 
job description enabled her to feel bet- 
ter about herself. Well, why not? If an 
increase in self-esteem can be bought 
so cheaply, what's the harm? There was, 
however, a problem: This woman could 
purchase her happiness—or what passed 
for happiness—only by devaluing the 
work of others, the work of men. With 
t glee, she told this story: А male 

ntance, an architect, had designed 
"portant public bu He re- 
turned from the construction site onc 
day in high dudgeon because bricks that 
were supposed to have been laid hori- 
zontally had been set vertically, destroy- 


sU dresses.” 


presumably 
n 


“I heard that he's one of our wealthiest alumni.” 


ing the integrity of his design. “Isn't 
that just like a man," she said, "to make 
such a fuss over some silly bricks, to be 
so self-important. . . ." The obvious 
irony of her remark—she was basting 
a hem at the time—was lost on her 

And 1, cowed by her vehemence, 
nothing. That was ten ve 

everal years later, she w 


said 


go. 
ed (unsuc- 
ienate her 
ather by telli 
tent homosexual 


them that he was a ^ 


and a “latent alcoholic.’ 
By this time, she'd wuly lost me: 
“Well, Fm a latent heroin. addict and 


а latent murderess,” I said. “Cheerio"— 
or words to that effect. 

There is a moral to this story. per- 
haps several. Of course it's ridiculous to 
judge any social movement by the people 
who use it as a vehicle for their crazi- 
ness. Still, ten years ago, few of this 
woman's peers, 1 daresay, would have 
challenged her words or her actions. 
Теп years ago, anger was the air many of 
us in the women's movement breathed— 
anger and bitterness and absolute cer- 
tainty. Practically none of us was in- 
clined to give men the benefit of the 
doubt. 

I'm not talking about focused 
directed at specific men (or specific 
stitutions) for specific deeds. Em talki 
about a kind of miasmic rage—the kind 
of rage that permitted to go virtually 
zed a statement such as “All men 
a conspiracy to rape all women. 
starement—which appeared in an 
otherwise good and important book— 
. on the face of it, patently absurd. 
nd yet even some men, eager to 
appease or gain favor, accepted that 
kind of mass indictment. How very silly 
of them. and duplicitous as well. since 
to admit such culpability is, in fact, 
to m good enough—enlightened 
enough—to say Fm bad . . . which 


makes me a worthy object of your love, 
or lust." 
No one can live in a perpetual state 


of anger, though a lot of people ty. 
(Youd think thevd give themselves a 
break.) I recently heard a heterosexual 
woman argue against lesbian separatism 
on the grounds that not to need men for 
sex or love might result in а blunting 
of one's rage; if a woman removed her 
self from men, she said, she was unlikely 
to remain angry enough to be revolu- 
. (And some people have dogs 
in order to beat them.) I find the notion 
of using men simultaneously to satisfy 
one's lust and to refuel one’s anger as 
obscene as the visual image of a woman 
being fed through a meat grinder. And 
I'm not saying this out of an excessively 
tender regard for all men; I'm saving i 
because I think any woman who 


pursues men as fodder for her 
invites self-degradation. 1 don't see 
where love comes into 

Most of the women I know—the 


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women Т choose as friends—don't want 
to see men objectified or diminished. 
‘That need, if it ever existed, evaporated 
when they made it absolutely clear that 
they didn't want to be seen as objects or 
treated as lesser human beings. They 
don't assume that the assertion of their 
full humanity is contingent upon the 
assertion of the inhumanity—or subhu- 
manity—of all men. 

. 

There are some things you never get 
over. You wake up in the middle of the 
night and you remember them; they 
stain your dreams, dilute your pleasures. 
Once I gave up smoking for eight 
months, and—this is not а nom sequi- 
tw—L remembered every deprivation, 
every loss, I'd ever suffered. The memo- 
ries were as fresh and as painful as if 
they had not Jain dormant for musty 
years, and 1 felt them all anew. I was 
detoxing, I suppose, discharging poisons. 
It was terrible. 

Consciousness raising was in some 
ways like that: a period of detoxifica- 
tion, an attempt tö purge myseH of every 
lie and every half-truth I'd ever bought 
or told about myself and about my rela- 
tionships with men. [ rehearsed every 
betrayal, every false beginning, every 
bit of rotten luck I'd had, every act of 
bad faith. It was terribl 

It could have been worse. What made 
it bearable was that I forced myself to 
remember that a man had saved my life 
when 1 was 15 years old. Without him— 
without his charity and his disinterested 
love, which rescued me from the claus- 
tophobia and meanness of 
religious sect—I doubt that I would have 
survived. Had it not been for the mem- 
ory of him, I think it is entirely possible 
that consciousness raising would have 
been deadly for me. I don't know wheth- 
er or not I would have recovered from 
that prolonged outpouring of anger, 
that solipsistic rage. 

(I would have remembered—I_ never 
forgot—that 1 loved sex. That's differ- 
ent. You can love sex and hate the op- 
posite sex, evidence for which abounds.) 

Of course, it is equally possible that 
my common sense would sooner or later 
have asserted itself, or that grace would 
have come from another direction. Per- 
haps even without the fact of him, I 
would have remembered that I love 
men. ` 

These are things 
know. 


npossible to 


A 
A lot has happened to us in the past 
ten y 


pect of someone that she not be 
ded to the pain of others while in 
iculating her own p 
But, in fact, consciousness raisin 
valuable to those of us engaged on an 


the process of 


232 anthropological dig of our own psyches, 


was a series of literally blinding revela- 
tions. What it sometimes blinded us to 
was the pain of men. Understandably. 
For if we hurt, it followed (or seemed to 
follow) that someone must be doing the 
hurting (men). Only now, ten years after 
the fact, does it seem to me that “Who's 
to blame?” is a peevish and futile ques- 
tion—when it is the only question on 
the agend; 

Теп years ago, I was just finding my 
anger. Anger has to be found before it 
is lost. Otherwise, it crops up in all the 
wrong places—in bed, for example—and. 


under various guises and disguises, warp- 
ing and poisoning love, infusing sex 


with dread and hostility, anestheti: 
als, killing spontaneity. 
years ago, 1 dredged my personal 
experience and found that I had good 
reason to be angry, not least because I 
had always been taught that it was un- 
becoming for women to be angry. At 
first my anger was specifically targeted 
I was angry at every man who had used 
me badly, every man who presumed to 
teH me what my place was and con- 
trived to keep me there. Then my anger 
leaped out of all reasonable bounds: If 
апу man could behave like this, every 
man behaved like this. 

But my anger coexisted with a pro- 
pensity to fall in love. 

During th е, I chose men who 
were like blank slates (“What does she 
see in him?") so that I could have the 
pleasure of inventing them. Remember- 
ing how, in my youth, before the wom- 
en's movement, I had felt and acted like 


ng 


a 
ers, painters, poets—I now chose men 
who were (not to put too fine a point on 
it) boring, men whose accomplishments 
were in the future. Years before the 
women's movement, I would sit for hours 
in front of. McSorley's. then а male-only 
bar in New York's East Village, w. 
for the man of the hour to down his ale 
and discuss his art before he collected 
me. (1 was never alone in my vigil; I 
kept company with other women, all of 
whom derived status from waiting: many 
of us knitted while we sat on camp 
stools, a gaggle of Penclopes.) Since my 
relationship to men of accomplishment 
had been to it for the it seemed 
to meten years ago—that the answer 
was to choose men who were without 
accomplishments (without even visible 
proof of goodness or energy) and who 
would wait—or be dependent—upon 
me. Determined to root out all traces 
of masochism, I succeeded only in be- 
ing more masochistically. Th 
the behavior of a 
And, like a cold 


satellite to accomplished men—writ- 


ed to 


pref ignore it or to analyze it 
out of existence. Always I made excep- 
tions of my brother, my father, my son. 
"The pain they encountered in the proc- 


ess of living, and the pain the man who 
saved my life had lived with, was trans- 
parently clear to me; but I wasn't all 
that cager to sec the pain of other men. 
My pain was valuable and interesting; 
theirs was not. 

Maybe that 1 surge of anger was 
necessary: 1 began to write out of anger 
and to make choices out of anger. It’s 
true that I made some lousy choices. But 
at least I was choosing, whereas before I 
had always the sense that I was acted 
иро 

I'm still often angry. And I'm grateful 
to the women's movement... . 

My teenage daughter just this moment 
walked in to tell me this: A man stopped 
her at à subway turnstile to ask her the 
time. And she—naively trusting and 
beautiful—was rewarded by his running 
his hands along her thigh. (The creep.) 

Im grateful (I was about to say) to 
the women’s movement for identilying 
the issues and communally deploring the 
acts—rape, violence inst women, ех: 
ual harassment and discrimination, sys- 
temati institutional oppression—that 
inspire me to cleansing rage. But I'm no 
longer inclined to see every man as a 
wolf in wolf's clothing. (My daughter is 
now on the phone with her boyfriend, 
telling him about the subway creep. 1 
know that he won't tell her that she in- 
vited unwanted caresses because she 
beautiful and trusting. Good for him. 
And good for my daughter, who won't 
for a second believe that she asked for it. 
Ten years ago, this whole scenario would 
have been different.) 

I must say that to be rid of diffuse 
anger makes a nice change. 

I wish I could say that change came 
about because I woke up one morning 
and discovered that I was "liberated"— 
and therefore no longer in necd of anger. 
It didn't happen that way; it was a func- 
tion of time. My consciousness has been 
transformed over the past decade; society, 
unless I'm very much mistaken, has not. 
(As Mary Tyler Moore pointed out to 
Tip O'Neill, if Mary Richards were sup- 
g two kids on the salary she made 

Grant's assistant producer, she'd 
need food stamps to feed them.) 

The fact that institutions have been 
loath to respond to the needs of women 
led, ten years ago, to this declension: 
Institutions are male-dominated; we are 
living in a patriarchal society; all men 
want to keep it that way, for why would 
anyone willingly relinquish power? 

That's very neat, very tidy. A little too 
neat, a little too tidy. As ideologies go, 
as strait-jacketing as any I can 
think of. (I myself have never shaken 
the hand of a patriarch, What does one 
look like?) 

It doesn't allow for the fa 
sulfer, too. The men I love most, among 
whom I count my father (who is 78), my 
brother (who is 42) and my son (who is 


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mmm mum 


18) are all good, decent people. They 
are also bound to circumstantial neces- 
None of them is sitting on a pile of 
rock candy. They have trouble enough 

ising dominion over their own lives; 
agine them getting their kicks 
nizing women. 

And it won't do to say that men invite 
their own suffering, that they choose i 
Suffering chooses us—all of us. Thi: 
led being alive. It is a great perversion 
of a great truth to say that suffering en- 
nobles us, and by that to mean that we 
ought to go in search of it. The truth is 
that suffering will find us, so we might 
as well le: from it and put it to use. 
This is called being fully alive and it is a 
condition men and women share. 

James Baldwin used to say that oppres- 
m was as bad for the souls of the op- 
pressors as for those of the oppressed. 
The men I love under id that princi- 
ple as it applies to women. Insofar as 
they have been oppressive, they are 
struggling against the conditioning that 
has made them that way. They are will- 
ing to give up the prerogatives of power 
and privilege—because it's bad for them. 
Their ponse to women's needs is 
pragmatic; that's OK. It strikes me fre- 
quently—as it has apparently struck 
them—that the human need for happi- 
ness often exerts the same psychic pres- 
sure, and leads to the same behavior, as 
pure morality does. What makes one 
happy. in the long run. is to act morally: 
really, happiness and morality are for 
all practical purposes indistinguishable 
(unless one confuses ephemeral pleasures 
and happiness). So it almost doesn't mat- 
ter why men are now more sensitive to 
women’s needs—so long as they are. 

e 

Dorothy Parker once said that she 
hated everyone who was rich but that she 
herself would be adorable at it. I see 
her point. For most of my adult life, I 
saw her point quite clearly—and, at the 
same time, not quite clearly enough. 
The problem wasn't stated in all its di- 
of a stupid 
and vulgar mi : ng the system 
that allowed some people to get rich at 
the expense of otl I allowed myself 
to believe that everybody who had re- 
markable amounts of money had got 
them at others expense. (“What about 
ny kids would ask me. 
hut up." I explained.) So, naturally, 
1 found it dificult to believe that rich 


people really suffered in the way and to 


héed thinking, I saw 
n. My 
gh to tell 
me th s a fool—or, at the very 
t, a smart person with a blind (and 
sore) spot. I accepted their criticism . . . 
but | lacked proof. Then I met, and 
came to love, a person with pots of 
money, houses in Malibu and Spai 


The money didn't help when her hus- 
band committed suicide and her only 
child ran off to some guru or other in 
Benares. Even I couldn't help noticing 
that her anguish was as great as if she'd 
been obliged to go to H & R Block to 
file her tax returns. 

All along, until direct observation and 
perience cured me of my stubborn 
idiocy, I'd been guilty of confusing an 
iniquitous system with the people who 
managed to get a share of it, by not dis- 
honorable means. (Do 1 mind that Ju- 
dith Rossner and E. L. Doctorow are 
ich? Does it grieve me that Robert Red- 
ford is ri I mind that I'm. not rich; 
but that's something else.) 

Privilege and power reside mostly with 
men as a class. That doesn't mean all 
men are iniquitous. (I'd hate to make 
the same mistake twice.) And it doesn’t 
exempt men from pain. 

In fact, I find it increas: 

to regard men—or wi 
(“Do the rich have souls?" a Jesuit once 
asked me. “Yes,” I said, "but harder for 
a camel to get through the eye of a 
needle. . . ." "Charity," he said, “is not 
your strong point. . . . Do the rich have 
soulsz" "Yes." So do Jesuits. Even bish- 
ops) At a time when we may be gearing 
up for military action in the country of 
Alexander Haigs choice, it becomes 
more and re important to make the 
crucial distinction among individuals. 
classes and institutions. Better to reserve 
one's anger for those who truly threaten 
or wish to harm us. for those who truly 
hate us. At this moment, I hate the sub- 
way creep (charity is not my strong 
point). But I don't see him as represent 
ative of his sex. 
‘There are good men and good women, 
1 men and women, people who 
get messed over and. people who do the 
messing—and this doesn’t break down 
conveniently along the lines of gender 

As my father said when he voted for 
New York State's E.R.A air is fair 
but do I think all women are oppressed? 
Is Clare Boothe Luce an oppressed? Jm 
an oppressed.” (And so he is: To be 78 
and living on Social Security is hardly 
to be a member of a ruling class.) 

Isn't it funny: Ten years ago, it was 
widely argued that any woman had more 
in common with Clare Boothe Luce than 
she had with 

These were 


gly difficult 
men—as a class. 


They had, in nse, 
n common: they had in common 
ability to bear children. And they 
ad in common this: Their hearts could 
be broken by men. 

I brielly entertained the notion that 1 


I have with my brother. I dis- 
nonsense. Nonsense, as well, 
to espouse the opinion that Clare Boothe 


Luce has more in common with a peasant 


7 | gn 


“Good grie[—don't tell me you were that skinny kid with the 

brace who used to run errands for her aunt Hallie to Dudlou's 
Drugstore? The one who once spilled a quart 

of ice cream in the middle of Elm Street? The one who...” 


235 


PLAYBOY 


236 


woman in El Salvador than she has wi 
Henry Kissinger. You can allow rhetoric 
to carry you only so far before you break 
into wild laughter. Rhetoric tells us that 
Clare Boothe Luce and an impoverished 
Salvadorian woman (or, for that matter, 
Nancy Reagan and Bella Abzug) are 
natural allies and sisters; experience and 
observation teach us that they are not. 
Even if all their hearts can be broken 
by men. 

Our hearts сап be broken by men. (I 
somctimes thínk mine must look like a 
mosaic.) But they aren't broken because 
men come at them with haminers and 
chisels. Lovers have the power to hurt 
and savage each other. I've done it; we 
all have. 

Its probably fair to say that men and 
women grow up learning different ways 
of responding to heartbreak and dif- 
ferent ways of inflicting pain. And, of 
course, our own ways—our own tricks, 
defenses, denials—seem natural to us; 
so, confronted with another set of be- 
havior, we see it as unnatural, careless, 
cruel. IE that is true, it is also truae—for 


men as well as for women—that behav- 
ior can be unlearned. And that probably 
entails our coming halfway to meet each 
other. 

lrs also true that most women grew 
up learning to mediate between men and 
their pain. Women were a kind of bulfer 
between men and the world. They ab- 
sorbed a lot of the shocks. (A crude way 
of saying that is to say women give too 
much, are too compassionate.) It’s possi- 
ble to acknowledge that, and to rue it, 
without denying men the authenticity of 
their suffering. It’s also possible to refuse 
to exist as a vehicle for men's pain—and, 
at the same time, not to abort one’s com- 
passion. That is known as declaring one's 
independence, then accepting one's in- 
terdependence . . . and consorting with 
the right men. Which takes some doing. 

One of the reasons it takes some doing 
is that you don't, when you're in love or 
attracted to someone, ask for his creden- 
tials every five minutes. Now, I have 
idiosyncratic tastes: If, for example, by 
some miracle Frank Sinatra should come 
my way, I would do everything I could 


“T was under the impression 
I was beginning to have an affair with my 
secretary, but I must be imagining it, because she 
seems lo be totally unaware oJ it." 


to keep him within my orbit. And I'm 
not stupid; I can count the ways in which 
he is not wonderful. But 1 am besotted. 
(I once fed a jukebox 30 quarters to hear 
him sing Send in the Clowns. When Sina- 
tra sings New York, New York, 1 am 
overcome with an almost violent tender- 
ness for him.) This is, I suppose, an aber- 
ration; but when Sinatra dies, I will feel 
that a part of me has died. (A part of my 
past will have died. 

Lucky for me (I guess) that the real 
world isn't presenting me with Frank 
Sinatra as a choice. But you see what I 
mean: To a large extent, “liberated” or 
not, our choices choose us. (Did I ask to 
love Sinatra?) I said earlier that the 
women's movement gave me the sense of 
choosing, of not feeling acted upon. I 
now sec how that is only partly true. 
Once you feel you can choose, you can 
also allow yourself to be acted upon. 
"There's room for mistakes. Sometimes 
the mistakes are glorious. 

I am, for instance, very much in love 
with Evelyn Waugh, now dead. Waugh 
had many children—he tended to forget 
exactly how many, and he was seldom 
around at the moment of their birth, 
preferring to be in а more salubrious 
and exhilarating climate (covering a 
war, for example). He chided his wife 
for writing boring letters. He was cranky 
and abrasive and abusive; he drank too 
much and he was funny-looking. And 1 
wish he had been my friend. Because 
underneath that crusty exterior, there 
was not only a quick and fierce intelli- 
gence but an enormous heart. Armored, 
but enormous. He once nursed a dificult 
friend through a long, messy illness: he 
was exceedingly loyal to his friends— 
even when he loathed their political be- 
liefs. Which is not to say he wouldn't 
have abhorred the women's movement as 
much as he deplored the Mass in the 
vernacular and despised Picasso, whom 
he thought should be hung (or hanged) 
upside down 

This is to say that consorting with 
the right men is not as simple a matter 
as it might appear. 

. 

It is possible these days to make more 
distinctions than our blinding anger of 
a decade ago allowed: Ther € cruel 
men, careless men, blundering men. In- 
stitutions do oppress women. But not 
every man is cruel, careless or blunder- 
ing (and appearances, given the compl 
ity of human nature, are, of course, 
deceptive: I know men who appear to be 
sensitive but who are weak, and exercise 
the tyranny of the weak; and 1 know 
men, on the other hand, who don't 
natter about feminism and yet nder- 
stand the uniqueness of every human 
being they know—which is really all one 
for). Not every man who is attached 
to an oppressive institution is himself an 
oppressor. To give what may seem an 


extreme example: I know many priests 
who are as committed to the ordination 
of women as I am—and I cannot believe 
they are conning me. Nor can I exist in a 
state of perpetual armed combat, wari 
ness and lack of trust. If I did, I could 
never form a friendship and never love 
а man: Love requires, il not a suspension 
of disbelief, a leap into belief; it entails 
risk—for everyone concerned. 

All this may seem axiomatic, not to 
say simple-minded. But the fact is, the 
men-are-the-enemy line stemmed from 
women's confusing institutions with in- 
dividuals. Like most of the mistakes we 
make, it stemmed from our not seeing. 

Га be a fool if I didn't notice that 
there is a difference between my father 
and Don Corleone, between my brother 
and Jerry Falwell. My brother may be— 
he is—somewhat nervous about his wife's 

ing mobility; he finds himself 
confused by female bonding (gossip 
makes him uneasy because he unde: 
nds that it is a form of truthtelli 
nd he's learning to decode it, while at 
the same time feeling that he may be the 
butt of it); he thinks my sister-in-law and 
1 are ganging up on him when we rap 
his knuckles for making a thoughtless 
remark about women or for behaving 
carelessly. But he struggles against the 
limits imposed on him by his upbring- 


inc 


involve learning to give up a m 
of power and hers involve choosi 
measure of autonomy. 

1 think—though I am not privy to 
the secrets of his heart—that my son has 
not gone unscathed by the idea that 
women come in two forms, Madonnas 
and whores. He struggles against that 
notion, in part because it serves him 
badly—it hopelessly muddles his own 
pursuit of happincss—in part because 
his experience tells him that this idea is 
simply not true to the facts as he has 
experienced them. 

My daughter exercises more options 
than I knew existed when I was her age 
When she and her young man quarrel, 
sometimes sound like Nick and 
Charles, sometimes like a replay of 
Hepburn-Tracy movie and sometimes 
like Mr. and Mrs. Macbeth. They never 
sound like dominant/submissive, victim/ 
victimizer. It's nice. (I've never heard 
them fight about who's going to take 
out the garbage, but they once didn't 
to cach other for a week becausc 
ced about Olivier’s interpre 
mlet, Lovely to be that young.) 

My father loves and blesses us all. He 
broods over us . .. like a mother hen. 

. 

In many ways, the women J know have 
come full circle. Having rejected pas- 
sivity, they no longer need, in any sense, 
always to be on top. Having rejected 

(concluded on page 240) 


they 
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240 


Sexuat DETENTE/ HARRISON 


selLabnegation, they are free to give. 
Having been satiated with the literatur 
of male angst, they are now free to write 
and speak of their own. When you begin 
to feel free to talk about your pain— 
when you no longer feel constrained by 
societal censure—you be der- 
stand that pain is (I've been avoiding 
these words) an inescapable part of the 
human condition. 

Probably for that reason, I'm no long- 
er awfully keen on feminists writing 
exclusively about feminism. I want to 
read work that formed by a feminist 
sensibility and consciousness, but І don't. 
want to read tracts. I'm tired of being 
bludgeoned and I'm tired of bludgeon- 
ing. 

I tell the following story to remind 
myself, and anyone else who needs re- 
minding, that there are still plenty of 
Neanderthals around: Not long ago, I 
had lunch with the editor of а prestig- 
ious publishing house and his assistant. 
Our conversation was pleasant and desul- 
tory. Somewhere between the salad and 
the sambuca, I said, “I'm not awfully 
keen on feminists writing exclusively 


(continued from page 237) 


about feminism. . . ." The editor's assist- 
ant asked me, to the point, what con- 
temporary novelists suited my particular 
bill, and I said, “Mary Gordon and Ruth 
Prawer Jhabvala and Helen Yglesias and. 
John Fowles—The French Lieutenant's 
Woman may be the best ‘feminist’ novel 
written in this decade—though it was 
never touted as опе Before I could 
proceed any further, I noticed—it was 
impossible not to—that the editor's eyes 
were rolling around in his head, a phy 
cal act that I had often heard described 
but had never actually seen before. “Oh, 
my God," he said, no doubt with his 
spring list in mind, “if fem m’s out, 
what's in? Is motherhood,” he said, con- 


trolling his eyeballs with difficulty, “in? 
Mothers? Are mothers in?” 
The moment 1 observed his panic— 


which carried with it the implication 
that feminism was, like Hula Hoops, a 
fad designed to sell commodities—I was 
possessed of the desire to read cogently 
argued feminist ideology . . . though I 
had, not ten minutes before, argued that 
to be locked into ideology was to be un- 
alive to nuance; it resulted in the death 


Answer to puzzle on poge 239. 


Ascot 


Cone 


Diamond Stickpin 


Embroce 


Fencing Foit 


Gloves 


Hat 


Ice Tongs 


Kissing Hond 


Lighter 


Monocle 


ev {ио е 


Nightcop 


Opera Glasses 


Cue 


Roce Horse 


Sports Cor 


Toils 


Umbrella 


Volet 


Watch 


Yocht 


"Charm is away of getting the answer yes without 
having asked any cleor question."— ALBERT CAMUS 


of prose and in inescapable weariness 
for Poor Reader. 

Whether he'd missed my point or I'd 
advanced my point poorly is still unclear 
to me. (What is cl to me is that he is 
probably, at this very moment, dreaming 
up а new "angle" on mothers and enlist 
ing a hapless writer to bring it off for 
him.) What I was trying to tell him was 
that the point of feminism was to make 
the whole world available to women; 
feminism is a way out of parochialism, 
not a way into narrow dogma. The sin- 
gle most important task of femi i 
to advance the truth—still novel, appar- 
ently, in some quarters—that women arc 
fully human. If one agrees that women 
are fully human, it doesn't take much 
imagination to see that they are íully 
capable of reading and writing about 
anything from: Bach to daisies, from 
David Rockefeller to cros, from motor- 
cycles to babies. Another way of putting 
it is that I'd far rather hear what a wom- 
an has to say about Aristotle than listen 
to a woman argue that she has the right. 
to study Aristotle on equal footing with 
men. I assume her right; I'm interested 
in her ideas. 

‘To-men who do not assume women's 
right to full par 
of emotions, sensations and ideas—to 
those who deny women their full human- 
ity—my door is closed. Well, perhaps 
opened only a crack: Change is arduous 
and slow; and men and women need 
cach other. Flawed, wounded and wound- 
ing, we need cach other's mercy, each 
other's bodies, each other's love. We 
need cach other's otherness. 

‘The men I feel warmly toward under- 
stand that we need each other, not as 


subject/object, sovercign/slave, subordi- 
nate/insubordinate but as equals. (To 
reap the benefits of equality is in no way 
to cast aside the salt and spice of differ- 
atch them struggling; I see 


ences) I 
their relapses into fa г me-Tar;an, 
you-Jane roles. I observe them noticing 
their own mistakes and hastening, be- 
cause they don't want to lose us, to cor- 
rect them. 

‘There is—it would be crazy not to 
admit—an element of farce in all of this. 
There has always been an element of 
farce in the relationships between the 
sexes; perhaps there always will be. The 
difference now, it seems to me, is that 
when we laugh, it is not necessarily at 
each other's expense. One finds oneself 
laughing more and more with men. (And 
onc trusts that the men one loves aren't. 
secretly leering at women.) History may 
sec our struggles as heroic (and, if things 
work out right, ennobling); but right 
in th 


now, time and place, we are 
neither heroines nor herocs— just players 
in the human comedy. 


— 


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FESTIVE EVENINGS 
OFTEN START WITH RED. 


JOHNNIE WALKER RED 
THE RIGHT SCOTCH WHEN ALL IS SAID AND DONE 


NED PHILLIPS 


ON-THE 


7 IPIE AN BOY S 


HABITAT. 


SCENE 


BETTER SAFE THAN SORRY 


cally no way you can keep your cherished possessions (or long 
green) out of the greedy clutches of a determined second-story 
man. But stashing jewelry, silverware, cash, coin and stamp 
collections, cameras and other valuable goodies that are portable 
behind cold steel does help stymie the smalltime professional 
burglar—and when your latest wild-and-crazy party is over, you 
won't wake up the morning after and discover that your pair of 


| f you've seen the movie Thief, you know that there's practi- 


diamond cuff links vanished with a sticky-fingered reveler. Safes, 
incidentally, come in two types: fire resistant and burglar resist- 
ant. A fire-resistant model is usually made of thin steel. Any Jimmy 
Valentine can crack it in seconds. A safe that's burglar resistant, 
however, is something else; it often has steel walls about an inch 
thick and a relocking mechanism that's activated when some- 
body tampers with the lock. Whichever you pick, it will sure beat 
leaving valuables lying about for easy pickings. 


Above: Two small safes that are 
meant to be concealed and bolted 
down, both by Bonafide Factory 
Products, $99.95 and $59.95. Be- 
low: The ISM 1414 is a 500-pound 
home minivault measuring 
19" x 16" x 16". with inch-thick 
walls and a four-number combina- 
tion lock, by Empire Safe, $1375. 


ЇЇ nn 


protect papers in heat up to 1700 
degrees for one hour, by John D. 
Brush & Co., $192. Below: The Sen- 
tryBox 87, also by Brush, is fully 
insulated and fire tested and comes 
with a three-number combination 
lock and removable shelf, $118. 


Above center: Somebody who's really in the chips can put what's left of his chips—after he’s laid out $7500—in this one-of-a-kind 41-inch tall 


sale (it’s safe to say it's also a work of art) that New York arti: 


Richard Haas painted in an Empire-style trompe l'oeil тош 


for—who 


else?—the Empire Safe Company of New York, which commissioned it. And in case you're interested, it weighs in at about 650 pounds. 


243 


— A 
== 
үс 
К = 
а 
Eum uy 
|| 


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There is a story of experience 


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GEAR 


CLEAR TO CANAL STREET 


ew York being a city of paradoxes, it stands to reason 
that the Canal Street Plastic Supply Company is located 
in the Ansonia Hotel at 2107 Broadway between 73rd 
and 74th streets, and the whole operation—which 
sounds like a tacky trinket manufacturer—is in actuality an 
acrylic department store with cut-to-order Plexiglas, custom- 
design Lucite products and ready-made plastic items all under 


Below: If it's a simple tabletop mirror you seek, look no 
further, as this 12" x 8" x 4' Emson clear-Lucite mirror 
and brushicomb holder, about $13.50, is clearly the 
winner. (It's especially appreciated in the guest room.) 
Right: Another product that reflects good design is this 
Aronie hair-care center, also of Lucite, which holds sev- 
eral brushes and combs—and it’s only $8. Both are from 
the Canal Street Plastic Supply Company in New York. 


one roof. Canal Street's most frequent calls are for custom turn- 
table dust covers averaging $35. Yet one well-heeled customer 
laid out $40,000 for an acrylic coffee table. Plastic’s increasing 
popularity, according to Canal Street, is because of its versatility; 
any mundane object from a toothbrush/drinking-glass caddie to a 
comb holder takes on a more orderly look when it's acrylic. 
And we know a bachelor's bathroom needs all the help it can get. 


More good-looking clear-Lucite products from Manhattan's Canal Street Plastic Supply 
Company include the Emson toothbrush/drinking-glass caddie (below left), which can be 
wall mounted or just set on a counter, $5, and the extremely thick 11" x 10° x 5%" Rialto 
wastebasket (below right), with twin carrying handles and 3/8" beveled edges, about $45. 
Good news, grubbies: All the items pictured here clean up easily with soap and water. 


245 


246 


A Little Bit of Heaven 


We're not going to worry about 
actress ISABELLE HUPPERT. Even 
though Heaven's Gate was a ci 
bomb, her fresh beauty and her 
first-rate tush more than madeup 
for the other excesses. 


ara 


Coming Through Loud and Clear 


PATTI (REAGAN) DAVIS isanti-nuke and pro-T-shirt. She's also an 
aspiring actress. Of all the kids in this White House batch, we like 
her the best. She's respectful but has a mind of her own. We 
especially tike looking at the way she gets her points across. 


Wet and Wild 


We like pictures of actress 
BARBARA CARRERA wet. 
She's a perfect sea nymph. 
Fresh from last summer's 
Condorman, Carrera co-stars 
with Armand Assante 

(O lucky man?) in, the Jury. 


Cheek to Cheek 


RYAN O’NEAL's stuck on the new So Fine jeans, which proves once again 
that seeing is believing. When he can tear himself away, he’s got a new 
movie, appropriately titled So Fine, that should be in a theater near you right 
now. The pants come without Ryan, and vice versa. 


The Midnight 
Rambler 


Some things age well: 
After finishing a new. 
album, MICK' looking 
loose, prosperous and in 
shape. We salute the 
Stones’ 20th year of 
outrage and wish 
them many, many 

more. 


On the Beach 
When we devoted ten pages to actress LINDA KERRIDGE last 
December, we celebrated her individual beauty, but we couldn't 


help making a big deal out of her uncanny resemblance to Marilyn 
Monroe. Since then, Linda has frizzed her hair, but the Took is stil" 
unmistakable. We'd. ic in the waves with Linda any time. 


| 


Touchie Feelie 


Since Saturday Night Live hit the skids, more and 
more people have tuned in the other weekend 
night to discover a group of very funny kids. One 
of them, MELANIE CHARTOFF, gets our 
celebrity-breast-of-the-month award, hands, er, 
on. Check out Fridays for more silliness. 


emit 


THE STORY OF O 


Orgasm, male or female, may be 
better when it follows extended, re- 
strained rapture. So say Alex and Ilene 
Gross, authors of Beyond Orgasm: Or, 
The Chinese Do It Differently, a heav- 
ily researched manuscript now making 
the rounds of the publishers. About 
four years ago, when the Grosses be- 


“TSHIRT OF THE MONTH 


my | 


For the Little Head catalog, write to A 
Little Head of Its Time, 822 North McCad- 
den Place, Los Angeles, California 90038. 
For the real thing? You're on your own. 


came interested in the Taoist practices 


that emphasize sensuality as a means 
to self-knowledge, they found that 
good sex was not necessarily depend- 
ent upon orgasm. Ne»t, they set about 
investigating the phenomenon. Now, 


SEX NEWS 


after reading 3000 research volumes, 
after countless run-throughs in their 
own test bedrooms, the Grosses are 
ready to tell us about such approaches 
to sex, which they call Ultra-Orgasmic 
Sex. It seems that regular orgasm is to 
0.0.5. as flying from Boston to New 
York is to driving there via country 
roads in mid-fall. In a nutshell, U.O.S. 
means exploring alternative sexual posi- 
tions, prolonging sex and deferring 
orgasm. 

Now the Grosses want to know what 
the public thinks. They're currently 
holding workshops in New York City 
and are circulating a U.O.S. question- 
naire, the results of which may wind 
up in the final version of their book. 
For information on the questionnaire 
or the workshops, send a stamped, 
self-addressed business envelope to 
Alex Gross, P.O. Box 660, Cooper Sta- 
lion, New York, New York 10276. 


LIGHTS, CAMERA, 
ROLL 'EM 


Historically, sex-education films have 
stumbled embarrassedly past some of 
the more pragmatic aspects of sex ed: 
how to put on a rubber, how to take 
it off and how to avoid V.D. without 
giving up sex. Remember the sex-ed 
films of yore; that is, the mid-Sixties: 
Joe Quarterback enters hotel room 
with floozy—cut to Joe QB. consulting 
with grim M.D. “Gonorrhea? Doc, 
what's that?” Sound track cranks up 
the first four notes of Beethoven's 
Fifth Symphony—cut to animation of 
gonococcus bacteria attacking healthy 
cell. That's the way it's been. 

Smart and campy as that slice of life 
may be, San Francisco film makers 
Stephen Faigenbaum and Jim Locker 
have now made a seriously funny sex- 
ed film called Condom Sense, with 


partial funding from the Playboy Foun- 
dation. Written by Michael Castleman, 
author of Sexual Solutions, with re- 
search provided by Steve Purser, the 
half-hour film aims to communicate 
straight sex information through a com- 
bination of wacko humor and rock 'n' 
roll, not unlike some dates we've had. 
A sampling of the Condom Sense 
brand of yuks: A man in a wet raincoat 
says, “Some men think that using a 
rubber is like showering with a rain- 
coat on.” After disproving that opinion, 
he concludes, “Those guys are all wet.” 
In the scene shown below, San Fran- 
cisco comedians Jane Dornacher and 


Michael Pritchard portray Condo the 
Magnificent and his assistant—the pro- 
ducers’ sneaky way of showing how 
to use a condom without losing their 
G rating. Jane puts a giant condom 
over Michael while they both impart 
instructions to the viewer. 

The film is available to family-plan- 
ning centers, clinics and other or- 
ganizations from Videograph, 2833 
25th Street, San Francisco, Califor- 
nia 94110. [У] 


Sex News on the Road Department: Doubtless inspired by Walt Whi 
snapshots, bringing new meaning to Whitman’ 


proverb we're quite fond of: 


If an ass goes traveling, he'll not come home a horse.’ 


mortal words 


an's Song of the Open Road, several readers sent us these roadside vacation 
"Strong and content 1 travel the open road,” not to mention an old Spanish 
But we figure he'll probably come home happy. 


Climax 
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And since beauty 
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3. Unprotected surface (magnified 
illustration) 

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3. Harmful elements are repelled 
by Armor All Protectant. 


helps keep dashboards, 


beneath the surface. It chemically protects 
against ultra-violet rays. And, it actually 
retards deterioration. 

So even though you can’t keep your 
car from getting old, you can keep it from 
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HARDWARE &GENERAL STORE 


JACK DANIEL'S 
FIELD TESTER CAP 


This is а comfortable sportsman's billed cap 
Black mesh (aw cooled) and adjustable to any 
size head, with an official "Jack Daniel's Field 
Tester” paich on the front. Guaranteed to shade 
yout eyes and slarl a lol of conversations, My 
$5.25 price includes postage and handling 


OLD-TIME RIVERBOAT 
PLAYING CARDS 


Both of these decks afe prettier than а painting 
and so is the antique tin card case. Each card is 
2 bil larger and thicker than normal — like those 
used on nverboals in the 1890's, There's a black 
and a green deck—both with an antique gold 
distillery design.” The face cards are re 
produced from 100-year-old artwork. So d's a 
Teal unusual set of cards for the serious player. 
Twin deck in antique case: $8.50. Postage 
included 


JACK DANIEL'S 
SQUARE GLASS SET 


Mr. Jack Daniel was the ongmator of the square 
bottle for his whiskey and always wanted to have 
2 malching square glass. Well, here it is! This 
hefly square glass (each weighs 14 ounces) is 
the perfect companion to a bottle of Mr. Jack's 
finest. The inside is rounded to make drinking a 
pleasure and the original design ıs fired on for 
800d looks and durability. My $15.00 price for a 
sel of 4 glasses (8 oz. capacity) includes postage 


SPECIAL: ALL THREE ITEMS 
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Send check, money order or use American Express. 

Visa er Master Card, including al numbers ond 

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For а color catalog lull ol old Tennessee tems and 

Jack Daniel memorabilia send $1 00 lo the above 
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LYNCHBURG | 


NEXT MONTH: 


b 


PROPAGATING PORN a 


PRICKLING "HEAT" 


STRIKING LA MOTTA STIMULATING CINEMA 


“TUNING IN TO CHANNEL SEX"—THE X-RATED HOME-VIDEO 
BOOM IS BRINGING EXPLOSIVE CHANGES IN OUR SEXUAL AT- 
TITUDES. HOW DID PATIO PORN GET ITS FOOT IN AMERICA'S 
DOOR, AND WHAT'S GOING TO HAPPEN NEXT BEHIND ALL 
THOSE CLOSED DOORS?—BY DAVID RENSIN 


^HEAT"'—THE CHRONICLER OF THE 87TH PRECINCT FOLLOWS 
KLING, A DETECTIVE WHO'S FOLLOWING HIS WIFE TO FIND OUT 
HOW SHE REALLY SPENDS HER DAYS. AT THE SAME TIME, AN 
EX-CON IS FOLLOWING KLING. A TAUT TALE—BY ED MC BAIN 


“THE STAKES OF THE GAME"'—PROFESSIONAL BASKETBALL 
HAS TRAVELED FROM SCHOOLYARD TO ADVERTISING AGENCY, 
FROM DOUBLE DRIBBLE TO DOUBLE INDEMNITY. REPORTING 
FROM THE PORTLAND TRAIL BLAZERS! ROOKIE TRAINING CAMP, 
DAVID HALBERSTAM PRESENTS A PENETRATING PERUSAL OF 
THIS CHANGING AMERICAN GAME 


“FINE CRYSTAL"—WITH COUNTRY HARMONY AND SOLID POP 
INSTINCTS, CRYSTAL GAYLE SHINES AT THE CENTER OF THE 
COUNTRY/POP UNIVERSE. AND, ON TOP OF THAT, DON'T SHE 
MAKE YOUR EYES BUG OUT! A PROFILE—BY CHET FLIPPO 


“RAGING BEAUTY"—IF YOU THOUGHT CATHY MORIARTY IN 
RAGING BULL WAS A KNOCKOUT—WAIT UNTIL YOU SEE THE 
REAL VIKKI LA MOTTA IN A PIPING-HOT PLAYBOY PICTORIAL 


"SEX IN CINEMA 1981"—THE SILVER SCREEN'S SIRENS AND 
STUDS HAVE SELDOM SIZZLED SO SMARTLY. PLAYBOY'S LIBIDI- 
NOUS LOOK AT EARLY-EIGHTIES CINEMA SEXUEL 


ORIANA FALLACI, GRAND INQUISITRESS OF Q&A, FINDS HER- 
SELF ON THE OTHER SIDE, GRILLED BY ROBERT SCHEER ON 
HER TECHNIQUES, HER OPINIONS OF WORLD LEADERS AND HER 
MAN IN A ONE-OF-A-KIND PLAYBOY INTERVIEW 


“NEW MAGAZINES FOR THE EIGHTIES"—MOTHER JONES 
MAY HELP YOU KEEP UP WITH YOUR PRESENT-DAY JONESES, BUT 
HOW IN THE WORLD ARE YOU GOING TO KEEP UP WITH THE 
BRAVE NEW WORLD? OUR READER'S GUIDE TO FUTURISTIC LIT- 
ERATURE IS SURE TO GET YOUR CIRCULATION GOING—BY DAVID 
STANDISH AND JERRY SULLIVAN 


Imported by The Paddington Corporation, New York, NY. 34 Proof © 1981 


BAILEYS. 
THE ORIGINAL IRISH CREAM LIQUEUR. 


THE CREAM IS REAL.THE SPIRITS ARE REAL. 
ONLY THE TASTE IS MAGIC! 


1981U.S. GOV'T REPORT: 


CARLTON 
LOWEST. 


In the 17 U.S. Government Reportssince the version tested for the Government's 

1970 no cigarette has ever been 1981 Report. Despite new low tar brands 

reported to be lower in tar than Carlton. introduced since— Carlton still lowest. 
Today's Carlton has even less tar than 


Carlton трач "d 


Nicotine 
109. 


va Cg 


Benson & Hedges Light 100's 10 0.8 
Kent 12 1.0 
Marlboro Lights 11 08 
Merit 100 Menthol 10 08 
Salem Lights 9 07 
Vantage 100's 9 09 
Virginia Slims Lights 8 0.6 
Winston Lights 11 0.9 


Carlton is lowest. 


Carlton Box—lowest of all brands. 
Less than 0.01 mg. tar, 0.002 mg. nic. Carlton Menthol—Less than 1 mg. tar, 0.1 mg. nic. 


Box: Less than 0.01 mg. "tar", 0.002 mg. nicotine av. per cigarette by FTC method. Warning: The Surgeon General Has Determined 
Menthol: Less than 1 mg. “tar”, 0.1 mg. nicotine; That Cigarette Smoking Is Dangerous to Your Health. 


Soft Pack: 1 mg. "tar", 01 mg. nicotine av. per cigarette, ЕТС Report May ‘81.