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. NURSES А 
PEOPLE, TOO 


| WOMEN IN WHITE 


' OUT OF UNIFORM 


SEX INTHE 
АСЕ ОЕ 
NEGOTIATIZEE Je 


PLAYBOY 
INTERVIEW: 
KENNY ROGE 


e 


E 


SEX IN CINEMA 
THE SILVER 
| SCREEN SIZZLES 


| HOW TO 
IMPROVE YOUR 
| RACQUETBALL 


| WE ASKEBI 


BUBBA SMITH 


| 20 QUESTIO 


(АМО WE SA 
“ 


Warning: The Surgeon General Has Determined 
That Cigarette Smoking Is Dangerous 10 Your Health. 


U.S. Govt Report: 


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Less than 0.5 mg. tar, 0.05 mg. nicotine 


Carlton-Lowest Tar Menthol 


Less than 0.5 mg. tar, 0.1 mg. nicotine 


Carlton-Lowest Tar 1205 


Regular 8: Menthol—6 mg. tar, 0.6 mg. nicotine 


Carlton 1003 Regular Es Menthol 


Less tar than over 160 brands—4 mg. tar, 0.4 mg. nicotine 


Carlton Box 1005 


Less than 1 mg. tar, 0.1 mg. nicotine 


Box King-lowest of all brands-less than 0.01 mg. tar, 0.002 mg. nic. 


Carlton is lowest. ü 


Box: Less than 0.5 mg. “tar”, 0.05 mg. nicotine: Menthol: Less than 0.5 та. “tar”, 0.1 mg. nicotine; 
Soft Pack and 11075 Box: 1 mg. "tar", 0.1 mg. nicotine; 100° Soft Pack and 10075 Menthol: 4 mg. “tar”, 0.4 mg. nicotine; 
1205: 6 mg. "tar", 0.6 mg. nicotine av. per cigarette, FTC Report Mar. 83. 


AFTER 500 PLAYS OUR HIGH FIDELITY 
TAPE STILL DELIVERS HIGH FIDELITY. 


If your old favorites don't sound as good as they used to, the problem 
could be your recording tape. 

Sometapes show their age more than others. And when a tape ages 
prematurely, the music on it does too. 

What can happen is, the oxide particles that are bound onto tape 
loosen and fall off, taking some of your music with them. 

At Maxell, we've developed a binding process that helps to prevent 
this. When oxide particles are bound onto our tape, they stay put. And 
So does your music. 

Soeven after a Maxell recording is 500 plays 
old, you'll swear it's not a play over five. 


ШЕЗІП Т 


“PASSIVE” 
TECHNOLOGY 


The first radar detectors were of a very simple technology 
called "passive" These units had a very limited range, 
and weren't very selective about what signals they 
would detect, so they were only marginal even when 
police radar was unsophisticated. And after the advent 
of low power, instant-on, and pulsed radar, and the 
proliferation of the higher frequency К band, passive 
detectors became virtually useless. 


CHAPTER 


SUPERHETERODYNE 
TECHNOLOGY 


In the late seventies, detector technology was advanced 
by a more sophisticated type of circuitry called super- 
heterodyne (ESCORT was the first high performance 
'superheterodyne radar detector). This “active” technology 
carries a much higher cost, but has many advantages. 


Properly designed, it can amplify an incoming signal 
‘Several hundred times (increasing the range of a detector 
Significantly), as well as be very selective about which 
incoming signals are detected (by ignoring signals 
‘outside the police bands). Superheterodyne detectors 
‘were a remarkable advance over passive technology. 


5Т/О/Р DIGITAL PROCESSOR 
TECHNOLOGY 


But today superheterodyne alone is not enough. A new 
type of imported radar detector flooding the highways 
transmits in the Same bands as police radar, and sets 
ff any other radar detector in the vicinity. Until now. 


ESCORTS new ST/O/P circuitry does much more 
than superheterodyne can by itself. ST/O/P digitally 
analyzes signals and can eliminate those from “роь 
luting detectors" — even though the "polluting" signals 
are in the police bands! Let's look at each type of 
signal and show how ST/O/P works. 


Figure 1 shows an X band police radar signal (dis- 
Played on a digital spectrum analyzer). The entire 
‘band allowed for X band police radar (10.500 to 10.550 
GHZ) is shown by the arrows below the illustration. 


Figure 2 shows the X band signal that emits from a 
“polluting detector; ST/O/P digitally analyzes pattems 
in the frequency/amplitude/time characteristics of all 
signals and recognizes pattems exclusive to each, 
whether from a "polluting detector” or police rada. 
Other radar detectors without ESCORT's pattern 
recognition technology simply can't tell the difference. 


SE With ST/O/P. ESCORT is redefining radar detection. 


Again. 


ESCORT WINS AGAIN! 
JULY 1983 BMWCCA ROUNDEL TEST 


the filter (ST/0/P) ESCORT is simply outstanding. 

unit decreased non-police alerts by over 90%. 

a price far below that of many other detector units. 
The ESCORT simply keeps getting better. 


ESCORT WINS 
MAY 1983 CAR and DRIVER TEST. 


"The Escort looks so comfortable, contented, and 
familiar at the top of the heap that it's hard to see 
that something new and special has been added. 
live with a new Escort for a while and you'll realize 
it has advanced new circuitry that should go down as а 
genuine breakthrough, 


A 
ESCORT WINS 
NOV 1982 CAR and DRIVER TEST 


The Escort, a perennial favorite of these black-box 
Comparisons, is still the best radar detector money 
сап buy. The Escort is a quality piece of hardware." 


en 
ESCORT WINS 
DEC 1981 BMWCCA ROUNDEL TEST 


"The Escort is a highly sophisticated and sensitive 
detector that has been steadily improved over the 
years... In terms of what all it does, nothing else 
‚comes close. 


m 
ESCORT WINS 
ЗЕРТ 1980 CAR and DRIVER TEST 


Ranked according to performance, the Escort is first 
choice... The Escort boasts the most careful and 
Clever planning, the most pleasing packaging, and the 
‘most solid construction of the lot.” 


AO 
ESCORT WINS 
MAY 1980 BMWCCA ROUNDEL TEST 


“This unit... consistantly outperformed the other prod: 
ucts and is the standard to which the others are 
‚compared. If you want the best, this is it. There is 
nothing else like it 


— лам 
ESCORT WINS 
FEB 1979 CAR and DRIVER TEST 


“Only one model, the Escort, truly stood out from the 
rest... once you try the Escort, all the rest seem a 
bit primitive. In no test did any of the other detectors 
even come close: 


America’s New Weekly Satellite Call-in Comedy 

“Ме Galvinisa master. . bis shou is so unusual that 
actually set aside tinse to listen... (The Wall Street Journal) 
Sunday evenings on public radio stations, Check local listings. / 


“А GENUINE BREAKTHROUGH" 


—CAR and DRIVER 


I you keep up with magazine tests, you know that 
ESCORT does more than just outperform other radar 
detectors. In its most recent evaluation, Car and Driver 
concluded: “The Escort radar detector is clearly the 
Jeader in the field in value, customer service, and 
performance.. `" But performance, as measured by 
warning distance, is not the new breakthrough. After 
all, ESCORT has been beating all comers since its 
introduction in 1978. 


Now There's More To It 

While long detection range is obviously essential it 
does nothing to solve a problem that has cropped up in 
the last year. In fact, increasing range by itself just 
makes the problem worse. If you already have a 0000 
Superheterodyne unit, you know what we mean. A new 
generation of imported detector transmits radar signals, 
and can set off your unit as far as a mile away The 
longer the range of your unit, the farther away you find 
them. As Car ard Driver pointed out last November: 
"Since there are far more detectors on the road than 
police radar units, interference... could become a 
genuine misance.” 


Low Level Contamination 

AL first it was just an irritation. At least ESCORT 
‚owners had а way of distinguishing the polluters trom 
Че real thing. Our unique audio warning differentiates 
between the two police radar bands: it “beeps” for X 
band and “braps” for К band. The polluters’ trashy 
signals triggered both warnings at once, and made a 
new sound — different than the sounds for police radar. 
(The rest of the industry didn't even know there was 
anew problem. Their detectors were making the same 
‘sounds as always, just more often.) 


Radar Epidemic 

As more and more of the “polluting detectors” hit the 
Streets, the problem became more serious. If one of 
the “polluters” is approaching in an oncoming lane, 
the alarm from your detector is brief. But if it's traveling 
the same direction as you, your alarm can go on for 
miles. And the offending detector doesn't have to be in 
the car right next to yours. It can be ahead or behind, 
and up to a mile away. A very serious problem indeed. 


FOR ESCORT OWNERS ONLY 

Tre new ST/0/P technology incorporated in ай new ESCORTS is 
adaptable to all ESCORTS from serial number 200000 to 399.999. 
Tre "ST/0/P Retrofit’ costs 575. and includes atding Ihe ST/O/P. 
digital circuitry with memory and totally retuning and realigning 
Ше unit The ESCORT 5 one year limited warranty will also be 
extended to a date one year alter the conversion. and of course. 
the shipping costs to return the unit to you are included. 


Pollution Clean-Up 

The problem required an entirely new approach. Examining 
the interference from these imports, our engineers dis- 
Covered a subtle difference between their signals and 
those of police rader, even though they were on the 
same frequency. The solution, then, was to design new 
circuitry that would reject the pollution while —and this 
was the hard part— maintaining ESCORT's industry- 
leading response to pulsed and instant-on radar. We 
named it ST/O/P” (STatistical Operations Processor), 
and it consists of a CMOS digital processor with built- 
in memory. ST/O/P is not simple, and it's not cheap. 
Butitis, in our opinion, the most important breakthrough 
іп radar detection since superheterodyne. Car and Driver 
would seem to agree: “Now all the world's Radio 
Shack detectors can hum right by your car in full 

= microwave broadcast mode 
and your Escort will sit on 
your dash as politely and 
Silently as a canary-fed са!” 


THE RADAR 
77 DEFENSE 
KIT 


Peace of Mind 

With ST/O/P. we've put the complications necessary 
to cope with today’s radar problems inside —where they 
work automatically. Just install ESCORT, plug it into 
your cigar lighter, and turn it on. ESCORT does the 
Test. If you encounter a signal from a “polluting detector: 
ESCORT keeps quiet while maintaining its lookout for 
police radar. If the signal is the real thing. ESCORT 
immediately alerts you both audibly and visually. And, 
unlike other detectors that Keep you guessing about 
the radar's location, ESCORT's signal-strength meter 
moves upscale as you approach and its variable-rate 
beeper /brapper pulses faster. You get the full story 


To insure etlicient and prompt service, we will use a special 
reservation system for scheduling the "ST/O/P Retrfit" service. 
00 NOT SEND YOUR ESCORT, but please send a card or letter (no 
phone calls. please) with your name, address. and serial number 
10 the following special processing address 

5Т/О/Р Reservations, Р.О. Box 228, Mason, Ohio 45040. 
We wil then send you a special shipping label and details on how 
‘and when you can send us your ESCORT. 


it's Simple 

Y you want the best, there's no reason to look anywhere 
else. But don't take our word for it. Try ESCDRT at no 
tisk. Open the box, install ESCORT on your dash or 
visor, and take 30 days to test it If you're not absolutely 
Satistied, we'll refund your purchase and pay for the 
postage costs to return it. You can't lose, ESCORT is 
sold factory direct. so knowledgeable support and pro- 
fessional service are only a phone call or parcel 
delivery away, And we back ESCORT with a full one 
year limited warranty. Order today and let ESCORT 
change radar for you forever. 


Do It Today 
T's easy to crer an ESCORT, by mail or by phone. 


By Phone: Call us toll free. A member of our 
sales staff will be glad to answer any ques- 
tions and take your order. (Please have your 
Visa or MasterCard at hand when you call). 

CALL TOLL FREE. . . . 800-543-1608 
IN OHIO CALL... . . . .. 800-582-2696 


By Mail: We'll need to know your name and 
street address, daytime phone number, and 
how many ESCORTS you want. Please enclose 
a check, money order. or the card number and 
expiration date from your Visa or MasterCard. 


e] @ 


ESCORT Includes Everything). . $245.00 
Ohio residents add $13.48 sales tex. 


Speedy Delivery 
If you order with a bank check, money order, 
credit card, or wire transfer your order is pro- 
cessed for shipment immediately. Personal or 
‚company checks require an additional 18 days. 


ESCORT 
RADAR WARNING RECEIVER 


Cincinnati Microwave 
Department 1107 

One Microwave Plaza 
Cincinnati, Ohio 45242-9502 


“First Iswitched to rum. E | 
Then I graduated to the flavorof | 
.Myerss Original Dark? = — | 


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The flavor is deep, rich and adventurous... а 
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ГА 


МТЕН5 5 RUM 80 PROOF IMPORTED. AND EDTILED BY THE FRED L MYERS & SON СО. BALTIMORE, MD. 


PLAYBILL 


Associ. 


IT BEGAN at br с Articles Editor Rob Fleder and 


occasional rwv contributor Laurence Shames were catching up, 
discussing the siate of the world and the state of their social lives. 
Both had noticed a change in their personal re 


ationships: “Call 
it the negotiator's tango.” It was that moment of instant recogni- 
tion—that aha! experience—the making of a serious, useful con- 
nection. On one hand, you have best-selling books, including 
Getting to Yes, by Roger Fisher and William Ury of the Harvard 
Negotiation Project, and You Can Negotiate Anything, by Herb 
Gohen. On the other hand, you have those disturbing discussions 
with your intended: What about privacy? What about fidel- 
ity? The tactics of the board room have moved to the bedroom, 
and Shames, in Sex in the Age of Negotiation (illustrated by Dennis МОКА 
Mukai), analyzes that negotiator’s tango 

‘There are times when that aha! experience can be the first sign 
of encroaching paranoia or, worse, justifiable terror. Sometimes, 
they are alter you. Carl Oglesby, a former president of SDS, 
makes his first appearance in eLaveoy with the chilling My Din 
ners with Andrey: A True Story of the Cold War (illustrated by 
Seymour Chwast). Oglesby found himself working in Washington, 
D.C., on the J.F.K./Martin Luther King, Jr. assassination 
investigations when he was approached by a K.G.B. agent. A 
series of dinner engagements and somewhat innocent conversa- 
tions about recent Soviet detectors leads to a startling conclusion. 

Arthur Shay escalates the conflict and takes us to a place where 
some of us have, unfortunately, found ourselves belore—a rac- 
quetball court. Shay, a Veteran Golden Masters champion, points 
out that more than halfof the 10,000,000 players in the country are 
competing at the A or the B level. He provides the tips that make 
for upward mobility in High-Voltage Racquetball. 

For those of you who like your entertainment in dark rooms, as OGLESBY 
opposed to bright courts, we recommend Arthur Knight's yearly 
report, with plenty of photos, Sex in Cinema—1983. (No matter 
how advanced the technology, there are some things that video 
terminals will never replace.) Still, if you must get down to busi- 
ness, part two of Peter A. McWilliams’ computer primer, Where the 
Joys Are, gets down to BASIC. 

Rounding out the nonfiction, we have two interviews. David 
Rensin talked with Kenny Rogers, entertainer, moviemaker and 
one-man money machine. Once and for all, we wanted to know 
when to hold ‘em and when to fold "em. (No, we were not asking 
about Playmates.) Craig Modderno interrogated Bubba Smith for a 
20 Questions. Why? Well, Smith has a book coming out this 
month, from Simon & Schuster, called Kill, Bubba, Kill! He 
thought an interview would be a коой idca to promote his book 
Hey, if Bubba wants an interview, Bubba gets an interview 

Another football hero, the Washington Reds T Joe Theis- 
mann, is the guy showing us how to score off the field in Winning 
Grooming. by Kennedy Flynn. 

When a piece of fiction comes in to the magazine, we often 
circulate it and solicit opinions. John Morressy's science-fiction- 
detective story Glory, Glory garnered this comment from one 
jaded editor: “Oh, God—wonderful premise, cleverly done, f 
ny and intelligent." Read it and you'll see why we 
it. We're suckers for a good detective tale, and it seemed a perfect 
e-in to our service features on topcoats, Cold Flash! (photo- 
graphed by Stan Malinowski), and Scotch. In Heather Weather 
(art by Herb Davidson), Emanuel Greenberg describes the honey 
bear and various other heart-warming Scotch drinks. Cheered by 
all that, light up a good cigar, as prescribed in Gentlemen, You 
Мау Smoke, by David Abrahamson (whose Ultimate Cigar Book is 
due out next year), pour yourself a still one and curl up with 
Veronica Gamba, Playmate extraordinaire, M that’s not enough. 
check in for a checkup with Women in White. a pictorial of some 
of the best and the brightest workers in medical professions. 
"These are women who are proud of the work they do and of the 
way they look. Sound like a good mix? You bet. MORRES: 


ЗНАМЕ. 


KNIGHT 


n- s MODDERNO 
to publish 


DAVIDSON 


IF YOU EVER WANTED 
TO CLIMB MT. RAINIER, 
YOU’RE A NATURAL 
BACKWOODS MAN. 


For an experience that's strictly 
wild, you can't top a climb like this. 
But for one that’s wild and mild, 
pack along Backwoods Smokes. 
Backwoods are all natural tobacco; 
with genuine Broadleaf wrapper 
aged one full year to bring 
out its natural sweetness. 
Backwoods Smokes. For the man 
| who likes his pleasures wild and mild. 


| ALL NATURAL TOBACCO 


HOW CAN ANYTHING 
À THAT LOOKS SO WILD 
j| TASTE SO MILD? 


PLAYBOY 


vol. 30, no. 11 —november, 1983 CONTENTS FOR THE MEN'S ENTERTAINMENT MAGAZINE 


PLAYBILL. IS EA Gne ad s E TY E ES 
THE WORLD OF PLAYBOY TERN citis 2-2... 13 
DEAR PLAYBOY 55 ESAS 25222 EST Ge dear ion B5 
PLAYBOY AFTER HOURS ^c" ЕСТЕ 21 


ЕЧ Botti Ж ; ASA BABER 43 

WOMEN. 753 Dr 1.......... CYNTHIA HEIMEL 45 

THE PLAYBOY ADVISOR... 222224 een teret Job DOR 47 

DEAR PLAYMATES СЕЛЕ EE Aes E 5S. Cinema Sex 
THE PLAYBOY FORUM T 3 cod tA AC 57 

PLAYBOY INTERVIEW: KENNY ROGERS—candid conversation... . 65 

SEX IN THE AGE OF NEGOTIATION—article ..........LAURENCE SHAMES 84 

WOMEN ІМ WHITE— pictorial |... 2 МР "acres. i 

HEATHER WEATHER—drink ............ 2522... EMANUEL GREENBERG өв 

MY DINNERS WITH ANDREY—memoir ..................CARLOGLESBY 102 

GENTLEMEN, YOU MAY SMOKE—modem living . . . . DAVID ABRAHAMSON 105 Nest E 
COMPUTERS — WHERE THE JOYS ARE—artidle .....PETER A. MC WILLIAMS 106 

PRINCESS FROM THE PAMPAS— playboy's playmate of the month .......... 108 

PLAYBOY'S PARTY JOKES— humor ^ 5. 122 

COLD FLASH!—attire.... .. ns .. HOLLIS WAYNE 124 

BERNARD AND HUEY—salire ..... ети .JULES FEIFFER 129 

20 QUESTIONS: BUBBA SMITH... 0 на 130 

GLORY, GLORY—fiction............. ........ JOHN MORRESSY 132 

WINNING GROOMING — modern living ... 22...... KENNEDY FLYNN: 134 AS 
HIGH-VOLTAGE RACQUETBALL—sports . . . 2.2.2... ARTHUR SHAY 137 

YONOSUKE TO THE RESCUE—ribald dlassic............. IHARA SAIKAKU 141 

SEX IN CINEMA— 1983— article TEER E ARTHUR KNIGHT 142 

1984 PLAYBOY MUSIC POLL.......... А0 сәсе Жш ӘЛ, 
PLAYBOYIFUNNIES— humor. Ж CARA TRITT er ee 158 

WORD PLAY—satire......... 22-272 ОООО ЕОВЕЕЦСДЕОГА 213 

PLAYBOY ON THE SCENE .......... er 3 D 233 


COVER STORY 


Women in white are the subjects of our featured pictarial this month, and 
copping it aff an our caver is Chicago madel Danna Ann, who, in additian to 
being one of Playboy Madels' hot properties, is studying—you guessed it— 
nursing. The shat was praduced and photagraphed by PLAYBOY Art Directar 
Tom Staebler and, no, we don't have any plans to market that pin with the 
familiar face, but Playboy Products daes affer something similar. 


PLAYBOY 


Imported by Browne Vintners Co.. New York © 1981 


For 256 yea 
been keepi 


company, 


APPELLATION MACON CONTROLEE 


BOTTLED BY 


PRODUCE OF FRANCE 
NEGOCIANTS - ELEVEURS ABLANQUEFORT 


Wine lovers the world over have loved B&G's fine French wines since 1725. Our 
31 superb red, white and rose wines are savored for their consistent taste and 
superior quality. Come enjoy the pleasure of our company. B&G. 


PLAYBOY 


HUGH M. HEFNER 
editor and publisher 


NAT LEHRMAN associate publisher 


ARTHUR KRETCHMER editorial director 
TOMSTAEBLER art director 
DON GOLD managing editor 
GARY COLE photography director 
G. BARRY GOLSON executive editor 


EDITORIAL 

ARTICLES: JAMES MORGAN editor; ВОВ FLEDER 
associate editor; FICTION: ALICE К. TURNER 
editor; TERESA GROSCH associate editor; WEST 
COAST: STEPHEN RANDAL. editor; STAFF: WIL 
LIAM J. HELMER, GRETCHEN MC NEESE, PATRICIA 
PAPANGELIS (administration), DAVID STEVENS 
senior editors; ROBERT E. CARR, WALTER LOWE, JR 
JAMES К. PETERSEN senior staff writers; KEVIN 
(COOK, BARBARA NELLIS, KATE NOLAN, ) Е 
OCONNOR, JOHN REZEK associate editors; SUSAN 
MARGOLIS-WINTER associate new york editor; 
DAVID NIMMONS assistant editor; MODERN LIV- 
ING: ED WALKER associate editor; JIM BARKER 
assistant editor; FASHION: HOLLIS WAYNE con 
tributing editor; HOLLY BINDERUP assistant editor; 
CARTOONS: MICHELLE URRY editor; COPY: 
ARLENE BOURAS editor; JOYCE RUBIN assistant editor; 
NANCY BANKS, CAROLYN BROWNE, JACKIE JOHNSON, 
MARCY MARCHI, RARI LYNN NASH, DAVID TARDY 
MARY ZION researchers; CONTRIBUTING 
EDITORS: ASA BABER. JOHN BLUMENTHAL LAL 
RENCE GONZALES, LAWRENCE GROBEL, D. KEITHMANO, 
ANSON NOUNT, PETER ROSS RANGE, DAVID RENSIN 
RICHARD RHODES, JOHN SACK, TONY SCHWARTZ 
(television), DAVID STANDISH, BRUCE WILLIAMSON 
(movies), GARY WITZENBURG 


ART 

кеше rope managing director; CHET SUSKI. LEN 
WILLIS senior directors; BRUCE HANSEN, THEO 
KOUVATSOS, SKIP WILLIAMSON associate directors; 
JOSEPH PACZEK assistant director; BETH RASIK 
senior art assistant; ANN SEIDL, CRAIG SMITH art 
assistanis; SUSAN HOLMSTROM traffic coordinator; 
BARBARA HOFEMAN administrative manager 


PHOTOGRAPHY 

MARILYN GRABOWSKI west coast editor; JErF 
COHEN senior editor; JAMES LARSON, JANICE 
MOSES associate edilors; PATTY BEAUDEY. LINDA 
RENNEY, MICHAEL ANN SULLIVAN assistant editors; 
POMPEO POSAR staff photographer; DAVID MECEY 
KERRY MORRIS associate staff photographers; DAVID 
CHAN, RICHARD FEGLEY, ARNY FREYTAG, RICHARD 
1202, LARRY 1. LOGAN, KEN MARCUS contributing 
photographers; BARBARA CAME, JANE FRIEDMAN, РА. 
TRICIA TOMLINSON stylists; JAMES WARD color lab su 
pervisor; ROBERT CHELIUS business manager 


PRODUCTION 
JOHN MASTRO director; ALLEN VAKGO manager; 
MARIA MANDIS asst. Mgr. ELEANORE WAGNER, 
JODY JURGETO, RICHARD QUARTAROLI assistants 


READER SERVICE 
CYNTHIA LACEY-SIKICH manager 


CIRCULATION 
RICHARD SMITH director; ALVIN WIEMOLD sub: 
scription manager 


ADVERTISING 
HENRY W MARKS director 


ADMINISTRATIVE 
J. P. TIN DOLMAN assistant publisher; PAULETTE 
GAUDET rights ÉS permissions manager; EILEEN 
KENT contracts administrator 

PLAYBOY ENTERPRISES, INC. 
CHRISTIE HEFNER president; MARVIN L HUSTON 
executive vice-president 


Sony Торе. 
The Perfect Blank. 


Color it 
pigskin. 


““”2222222> 


Bring home а Sony Audio or Video Tape and what 
do you get? The perfect blank. 

Electronically designed to capture more sound 
than you can hear, more color than you can see. 


SONY. cos pe Stes Co ло» чолу Cop a Козо. 


THE LOGIC OF LIGHTWEI 
OMPANY INSTEAD ОҒАН 


The logic, you might say, is impeccable. 

Because who would know more about what 
it takes to build a rugged, long-lasting, light- 
weight hiking boot than a company that's been 
building rugged, long-lasting boots for years. 

A company like Timberland? 

We know, for instance, the importance 


of dry feet to people who spend hours outdoors. 


Our sole is a special 2-density polyurethane compound 
It remains flexible to temperatures you should seriously consider 
whether you want to be out in anyway. 


So whereas Nike" and New Balance? lightweight 
hikers aren't waterproof, Timberland's are guar- 
anteed 100% waterproof. 

The sole is another place where we've made 
great strides over running shoe companies. 

The problem? Finding one sole that com- 
bines two distinctly different qualities. Extremely 
durable, yet extremely lightweight. 

‘The solution: a 2-density polyurethane 
compound from England, developed originally 
for Norwegian Army arctic boots. Hence, it 
remains flexible to 40°F below zero, yet w eighsa 
fraction of what a traditional hiking sole weighs. 

Comfort is something else we didn’t take 
lightly 
o protect your ankles from any hard-edged 
rocks, and to provide a snug fit so pebbles or 
snow can’t sneak in, the collar is fully padded. 

‘To provide support, there are premold- 


J ed counters in the heels. 

And to act as a sort of shock absorber 
between your feet and the ground, there's a 3- 
layer orthotic innersole. 

In fact, we could go on and on about 
seams coated with two coats of latex to ensure 
their waterproohng. 

And two different types of insulation to 
ensure that your feet stay warm. 

And how allthis was accomplished in boots 
that weigh only 2407. cach. 


Yes, we could go on and on about the virtues 
of our lightweight hikers over our competitors” 

But we wouldn’t want to weigh you down 
with too many facts 


Timberland $ 


The Timberland Company. PO. Fox 370, Nenmarket, New Напр 03857 


GHT BOOTS FRO 
UNNING SHOE 0 


To cushion your feet from lifes rockier roads, Timberland® provides a 3-layer orthotic innersole 
Something our competitors apparently don't think you deserve. 


When it comes to the technology of waterprooting boots, Nike and New Balance are just getting their feet wet. 
"Timberland's are guaranteed 100% waterproof. 


Available at: Abercrombie & Fitch; Carson, Pirie, Scott & Co.; Eddie Bauer; Marshall Fields; Nordstrom. 


Jord of the Canadians 


ANADIAN WHISKY - BLEND - 


Enjoy the smoothest Canadian ever. The 
one that lords it over all others when it comes 
to taste. The Canadian that’s proud to call 

itself Lord of the Canadians. Set your course 
for Lord Calvert. Lord of the Canadians. 


tay, 
74 


THE WORLD ОҒ PLAYBOY 


in which we offer an insider’ look at whats doing and who* doing it 


THE EAGLE HAS LANDED 
AN H.M.H. AWARD 


Despite intimidation by local Nean- 
derthal arsonists whose quest for 
fire has centered on their building, 
Тот and Pat Gish press on with the 
Whitesburg, Kentucky, Mountain 
Eagle. Below, author Studs Terkel 
presents the Gishes with 1983's 
Hugh M. Hefner Award for Outstand- 
ing Community Leadership. Other 
winners honored were A.C.L.U. 
counsel Mark Lynch and the late civil 
libertarian Osmond K. Fraenkel. 


А ҒІЕТН OF FESTIVITY 
AT HOLLYWOOD BOWL 


“= оос Severinsen (below) blows brassy blue 
y notes for the first of two days of overflow 
crowds attending the fifth annual Playboy 
Jazz Festival at Hollywood Bowl. At left, 
m.c. Bill Cosby doubles on drums behind 
Hubert Laws; at right, Hef takes time 
out from toe tapping to pen a few auto- 
graphs. Thanks for the thrill, Hef—you 
Signed oursister page in the program. 


IN AMERICA, SHE'D HAVE A PORSCHE TO DRIVE 

Lasttime we saw Ayers Rock, PrincessDi was scrambling down it. This is anotherkind 
of royalty—Australian Playmate of the Year Amanda Dole, running through a tour of 
her country's outback. Photographer Rennie Ellis didn't know why she was in such а 
hurry, but we suspect some rampaging kangaroos—the photo came to us by pouch. 


NOW, THAT'S WHAT 
WE CALL JAILBAIT 


Above left: Adrienne Barbeau—we'd 
pay to watch her breathe. Above right: 
Miss September 1978, Rosanne Katon, 
who co-stars in Women Behind Bars, 
the play that's driving L.A. stir crazy. 
Women behind bars are like other 
women—except instead of ordering 
vanity license plates, they makethem. 


е тау be a walking епсу- 
clopedia of stereo components, 
sports stats Or aia 


racing engines. 


But experience in buying dia- 
mond jewelry is 
harder to come 
by. Afterall, 
it's not the kind 
d thing you do every day. 
Fortunately, you don't have 
to be a gemologist to make a 
good choice. Because at Zales, 
we have + 


diamonds in the тоц gh: and 
then control every step in the 
creation of each ring. 


ZALES 


THE DIAMOND STORE 


That means we're sure of 
the quality. Sure enough to 
back it with our promise of a 
full refund for 
90 days if you're 
not completely 
satisfied. 

That sets your mind at ease, 
now doesn't it. 

Of course, if inexperience 
still makes you feel edgy, we'll 
show you the way around 
every facet of diamond tech- 
nology. Even КТ 


though all you є => 


really need to к 
know isthe 
way to your nearest Zales. 


IS ALLYOU NEED TO KNOW: 


DEAR PLAYBOY 


ADDRESS DEAR PLAYBOY 
PLAYBOY BUILDING 
919 N. MICHIGAN AVE. 
CHICAGO, ILLINOIS 60511 


CAPTAIN RAMPAGEOUS 
I hope every American who has ever 
entertained positive thoughts of what Ted 
Turner would bring to politics will-read 
the August Playboy Interview. With eyes as 
big as saucers and jaw dropping, I read 
the words of a тап who has foundered 
on power and success. I can only imag- 
ine whom Captain Outrageous would 
choose as his running mate— probably 
someone like Colonel Qaddaf 
Alison Nowakowski 
Genesee, Idaho 


1 was hoping to learn what makes Ted 
tick, Instead, thanks to interviewer Peter 
Ross Range’s obnoxious aggressiveness, 1 
learned only what ticks Ted off. After let- 
ting the magazine sit for a week and 
rereading the Interview as an attempt at 
fairness, I still agree with ol Terrible Ted. 

Earl F. Greene 
New York, New York 


Turner’s mindless rantings make the 
powers that be at the three commercial 
networks seem as wise as Solomon and as 
thoughtful as Socrates. I haven't read s 
antifemale bunk for years. If this violent 
and antisocial creature feels that an un- 
natural death looms on his horizon, it will 
probably be at the hands of his long- 
suffering wife—when she finally gets fed 
up with her sexist, racist idiot husband 

Peggy M. Johnson 
Houston, Texas 


І don't blame Turner for ripping up 
Range’s equipment; | wanted to myself. 
Julie Redding 
Tallahassee, Florida 


Turner reminds me of what are re- 
ported to have been the final stages 
in the life of the late Howard Hughes: 
fleeting moments of insight, followed by 
lengthy hours of incoherent babbling. 
However, you should take your hat off to 


Turner for bringing sex and violence to the 

Playboy Interview. Y haven't had so much 

fun since Jimmy Carter let it all hang out. 
Clyde M. Phillips 
Parkville, Missouri 


I had placed Turner on a pedestal as 

a modern American hero, bigmouth or 

not. Now 1 see that he's reduced himself 

to wallowing in a quagmire оГ self 

importance. Putting one’s foot in one's 

mouth is OK, even forgivable, but to swal- 

low it clear to the crotch is sheer lunacy. 
Hey, Ted—expletive deleted! 

Robert Simmons, Jr. 

San Jose, California 


COUNSEL FOR THE OFFENSE 
As an attorney who defended one of 
those charged with causing the death of 
Paul Trerice, I read with interest Bruce 
Henderson's article Todays Navy—Not a 
Job, an Adventure (PLAYBOY, August). 
Although the article is largely factually 
correct, its tenor is totally misleading. It 
implies that the Navy protected those 
volved. The contrary is true. Those who 
were tried by general court-martial were, 
at the time of Trerice’s death, running the 
U.S.S, Ranger C.C.U. [Correctional Cus- 
tody Unit] in the exact manner prescribed 
by 
death from the idiopathic disease heat- 
stroke could actually have been prevented 
is arguable. What is not questionable, 
however, is that the Navy purposely 
ruined the lives and the careers of good 
officers and men in a futile effort to protect 
itself and its institutions from criticism. 
The conviction rate at general courts- 
martial is around 95 percent. The fact that 
nearly all the accused were acquitted—by 
the Navy’s own hand-picked jury—be- 
speaks their innocence. 
E. Paul Gibson 
North Charleston, South Carolina 
We suggest that you reread the Navy's own 
words, quoted on page 190 of the article, 


ауу orders. Whether or not Trerice's 


аар 


PLAYBOY, (ISSN соз: зала). ROVEMBEN. 198). VOLUME 30, NUMBER 11, PUBLISHED MONTHLY BY PLAYBOY, PLAYBOY BLOG., эш 


BOULDER, col 


Shap, 
LES TANQUERAY 
М. LONDON Раім 
чесно т 


Own a bottle. 


Its worth the 
price to have at least one 
thing in your life that's 
absolutely perfect. 


Tanqueray Gin. А singular experience. 


IMPORTED ENGLISH GIN, 100% NEUTRAL SPIRITS, 94,6 PROOF, 
IMPORTED BY SOMERSET IMPORTERS, LTD., N.Y. © 1981 


PLAYBOY 


16 


from a report prepared by the Office of the 
Judge Advocate General: “Airman Recruit 
Trerice's death resulted from a combination of 
errors in judgment, dereliction of duty, dere- 
liction that rises lo the level of negligence and 
culpable negligence.” 


When I read Henderson's Today's 
Navy—Not a Job, an Adventure, my heart 
went out to Trerice and his family. As an 
ex-sailor, I сап hardly imagine the sadistic 
and inhuman treatment he received, The 
very righis that Trerice was out there de- 
fending were the ones denied him not only 
as a sailor and a citizen but, most vital of 
all, as a human bci; 


Miceal D. Drohan 
Monrovia, California 


HIKING TILL IT HURTS 
James R. Petersen's article A Walk on 
the Wild Side (eLaveoy, August) is super. 
The illustration, by Olivia De Berardinis, 
is a masterpiece. 1 will have to visit New 
York, the country's sex capital, more often. 
Marshall Hanson 
Troy, New York 


Т read Petersen's A Walk on the Wild 
Side with concurrent feclings of fascination 
and revulsion. But isn’t that what S/M is 
all about? I admire Petersen's candor and 
his courage. Thanks for a look into places I 
would never dare venture myself. 

S. Golds 


Riverside, California 


Petersen's A Walk on the Wild Side is 
very interesting. His account of the events 
at the Hellfire Club and at other New York 
S/M establishments makes for exciting 
reading, especially for a square likc me, 
jor sexual activity is salivating 
over the Playmate of the Month. 

Lanny R. Middings 
San Ramon, i 


VERY IMPORTANT PERSSON 
1 generally don't feel compelled to write 
to you about Playmates of the Month, 
since they are all at about the same high 
level of attractiveness. However, once in a 
while a Playmate comes along who is truly 
at a much higher level than most. Such is 
the case with ina Persson, your (may- 
be I should say my) Miss August. Not 
since March 198278 Karen Witter has а 
Playmate been so outstanding. Congrat- 
ulations to Kerry Mor and Ken Marcus 
for a job well done. Why not make Miss 
Persson the Playmate of the Year right 
now? If not, how about one more look? 
Robert F. Wagner 
Simon Fraser Univei 
Burnaby, British Col 


mbia 


Carina Persson, Miss August, is without 
a doubt the most beautiful Playmate ever. 
Her face, her body—everything about her 
is sheer perfection. Why don't you send a 


photographer to Sweden and sce if there 
are more like her? 
Ken Elrod 
Oxnard, California 


It has taken the radiant beauty of Cari- 
па Persson to trigger my first letter to you 
since I began collecting рілувоу in 1968. 
She's gorgeous. She's voluptuous. She has 
warmth and intelligence. What a Persson! 

Werner Carlson 
Irvine, Californi 


Hats off to Kerry Morris and Ken Mar- 
cus for the wonderfully erotic photographs 
of the lovely Carina Persson! Unfortu- 
nately, valuable space was wasted on the 
monthly candid, clothed, out-in-the-world 
photos. Those shots are just plain dull! 
Please reward loyal Р1АҮВОҮ readers all 
over the world by cutting back on the can- 
did, clothed, etc., photos. Could you also 
print one morc interesting picture of her? 
Scott Jordan 

San Jose, Californi 
This is the most interesting picture of 


Carina we could come up with. You hardly 
ever see aquamarine shoes anymore. 


HERMON HARRUMPHS 
As a result of Stephen King's horrible 
remarks regarding our town that appear in 
June's Playboy Interview [We were living 
in Hermon, Maine, which, if not the 
asshole of the universe, is at least within 
farting distance ofit”], plans for a Stephen 
King Day and for а King Muscum 
оп his old trailer pad are terminated. 
E. W. Aronoli, Town Manager 
Hermon, Maine 


MEN AND WOMEN 

PLAYBOY has made a wise decision in 
making the Women column, by Cynthi 
Heimel, a regular feature, On the basis of 
the first installment, “Why Are Women So 
Angry АШ the Time?” (August), I think 
Women will be both informative and 
helpful. 


arles W. Edwards 
Birmingham, Alabama 


Heimel’s “Why Are Women So Angry 
All the Time?” erroncously concludes that 
men just got fed up with ferninism because 
of the demands it made upon them. What 
actually happened was that men realized 
that while feminists demanded independ- 
ence and equality, most weren't willing to 


assume completely or consistently the con- 
comitant responsibilities; they continued 
to retreat behind their petticoats, if | may 
sound so chauvinistic, and to play upon all 
the traditional feminine adyantages and 
prerogatives—when convenient. 

Steve Jacques 

Beverly Hills, California 


SYBIL THE BARBARIENNE 
Congratulations on a superb August 
issue! It's the best issue this year, thanks 
mostly to Miss Sybil Danning. If you ever 
run a contest in which the winner gets to 
photograph her, use this letter as my entry. 
I am an amateur photographer, and it 
would be my pleasure to photograph the 
most beautiful star to ever shine on your 


pages. 


Robert Chaffee 
Long Island, New York 


If anyone can come up with a better de- 
scription of уйше photos of Sybil than 
ting,” I'd like to hear it. 

Sonny Wisecarver 
Anuoch, California 


I send my compliments to Ken Marcus 
for his pictorial Sybil, starring Sybil Dan- 
ning. I like his lighting techniques, and he 
has some unique props. I also send my 
compliments to Sybil, who enlightened 
me. She, too, has some unique props. 

Kelly Michelle 
Asheboro, North Carolina 


YES, SIR, THAT'S MY BABER 

Congratulations, Asa Baber—and that 
is meant sincerely and without sarcasm. 
You have finally made the great discov- 
ery—namely, that it is a pure and unmiti- 
gated bummer to find yourself held up to a 
standard of performance and behavior 
that must necessarily overlook and dei 
grate your strengths and virtues in favor of 
your weaknesses and flaws. You have ar- 
rived at the source of the problem and at 
solution in your Men column. Fish 
aren’t measured by the carat and bects 
aren't measured by the mile—so why 
should either sex be used as the human 
mean? These past 20 years of sexual unrest 
have been the pay-back—long overdue 
and, I am tempted to say, well deserved— 
for a few thousand years of women’s being 
hammered into molds that men haye made 
for us. Men have just lately gotten the 
slightest taste of their own medicine and, 
predictably and understandably, they 
have not liked it. It is, indecd, an honor- 
able thing to be a man. The estate of 
womanhood is likewise an honorable one. 
When we have all reached an unquestion- 
ing acceptance of both premises, the war 
will be over. 


L. M. Johnson 
Watauga, Texas 


Take а Hipoppotamus оп a safari. 


Whether it’s the urban jungle or the wilds of your favorite country place, this 
all-leather boot is worth the adventure at under $65. Shown: “Tomahawk” in 
soft pleated leather. In brown, taupe, black, navy, tan and black cherry. Available 
in the United States, Puerto Rico, Canada, the Caribbean. Hipoppotamus by 
Internor Trade Inc., 30 Rockefeller Plaza, New York, New York 10112. 


It pays to be in his boots. 


PLAYBOY 


18 


EIGHT PERFECTLY LEGITIMATE 
REASONS TO ВОҮ А SAAB. 


In the interests of the in- 
herent human need to rational- 
ize everything, Saab presents 
everything your intellect needs 
to confirm what your emotions 
tell you about the heart-pound- 
ing, toe-curling automobile 
pictured cutting a swath across 
the opposite page. 


iL, 

Automatic Performance 
Control (APC). Phrased wood- 
enly, APC is a Saab Turbo engi- 
neering exclusive. Phrased in 
engineering terms, it monitors 
variables such as driving condi- 
tions and fuel quality and ad- 
justs turbo boost accordingly; 
1.е., itincreases boost to get 
maximum use from high-octane 
fuels and decreases it to protect 


the engine from low-octane fuels. 


In the language of efficiency 
experts, it results in а Saab that 
goes faster on less gas* 

Phrased any way, it comes 
out as the boredom of the tech- 
nocrat. Which is precisely the 
point: Bore your intellect to 
death and it'll never dream 
you're the type to buy a car for 
the kicks. 

2, 


Kids. Тһе Saab 900 has a 
back seat that fits three kids 
very easily, as evidenced by the 
fact there's a middle seat belt. 


a. 


Groceries. Peat moss. 
Suitcases. Beer kegs. Or any- 
thing else you happen to be 
carting around. Because the 
other good thing about Saab’s 


*Saab 900 5-speed APC Turbo 
Actual highway mileage will probably be less 


back seat is that it fips down 
to make 56.5 cubic feet of lug- 
gage space (53.0 in the 4-door 
model). Which, not inciden- 
tally, is more than you'll get 
from a BMW, Audi, and Volvo 
combined. Combined? Com- 
bined. (How is that possible? 
Aren't those other cars sup- 
posed to be big cars?) 


4 


Extras. Or rather, the fact 
that on the Saab 900 Turbo, 
most aren't. Such features as 
electrically operated windows, 
central door locking, aluminum 
alloy wheels, Pirelli tires, sun- 
roof, and air conditioning are 
all included in the base price. 
Plus one of the best radios 
around. 

5 


Safety. Passive safety: the 
construction. Active safety: 
the handling, the braking, and 
the acceleration of the Turbo 


itself. 
6. 


Snow and rain and hail and 
gloom of night. You handle the 
first three with Saab’s front- 
wheel drive. Not front-wheel 
drive that suddenly appeared 
ona Saab after an exhaustive 
marketing study. Rather, front- 
wheel drive that was originated 
by Saab back in 1949. And 
refined and refined and refined 
and refined and refined ever 
since to give you quick, precise 
steering in any weather. 

As for gloom of night, Saab 
has a more recent innovation: 


side guidance lights. When you 
signal for a turn or go into re- 
verse, they illuminate alongside 
your car. 

7 


Kudos. Maybe you couldn't 
care less how many times the 
Saab 900 Turbo was named the 
best this or that by the buff 
books. 

But The Times? The stately 
New York Times? Surely you 
care what The Times said. It 
said: “A well-used '67 model 
was the first Saab 1 ever knew, 
and it was a case of love at first 
sight. ... Now Iam in love 
again, this time with the Saab 
Turbo” 

8. 


Warmth апа comfort. The 
toastiest Saab feature is indis- 
putably its heated front seats. 
This is not solely to make you 
feel good, however. Studies 
have shown that a warmer win- 
ter driver is a more alert 
driver, too. 

The seats themselves are 
orthopedically molded for back 
support and dished inward for 
lateral support. As Rallye mag- 
azine said, “One could drive a 
900 Turbo all day long and walk 
out ofit refreshed, like you had 
only driven across town! 

Speaking of drives across 
town, you could take one right 
now in the Saab 900 Turbo. 

Then the above list will ei- 
ther be of great help while you 
rationalize your decision, or no 
help at all because you'll buy a 
Saab just because it feels good. 


ED) EPA estimated mpg, 34 estimated highway mpg. Use estimated mpg for comparison only. Mileage varies with speed, trip length and weather. 


ANY ONE OF WHICH SERVES 
„AS A WONDERFUL EXCUSE. 


The mostintelligentcar ever built. 


The blessings of nature, 
and a dash of divine inspiration. 


The exquisite Italian liqueur created р from wild nuts, berries and herbs. 


Bea пе егеси 


Imported by William Grant & Sons, Inc., NY, NY + 56 proof « Produced and bottled by Barbero S.PA , Canale, Italy + About fifteen dollars a bottle 


_PLAYBOY AFTER HOURS 


HIGH-TECH 


We like a computer programmer with a 
sense of humor. Recently, a friend was toil- 
ing away at Haunted House, one of those 
games for true technonerds that can take 
days—even weeks—to play. After 15 
hours of frustration during which time the 
computer had foiled his every move, he got 
angry. “FUCK you,” he typed into his Apple 
П. “your PLACE oR MINE?" the machine shot 
back. 

б 

А Roman Catholic nun was arrested in 
Naples for helping jailed Mobsters ex- 
change messages by carrying encoded 
notes inside her Bible. An Italian news 
agency said that when Sister Alvina 
Murelli corresponded with Raffaele Cuto- 
lo, head of the Camorra crime family, she 
addressed him as God. His sister Rosetta 
was the Virgin Mary and Cutolo's associ- 
ates were the saints. 

. 

In Los Angeles, we spotted a pair of his- 
and-hers vanity license plates nestled 
together in a cozy two-car garage. His read 
ТАВ А. SLOT B was on hers. 

. 

According to the tabloid Globe, a dentist 
in New York administered a general anes- 
thetic to a female patient and then was 
alarmed when she placed a visclike grip on 
his testicles. In spite of that assault, the 
woman successfully sued the dentist for 
$500, because he had had to break one of 
her fingers to extricate himself. 

. 

News flash: The leader of the guerrillas 
on the Southeast Asian island of Timor is 
named Sha Na Na. 

. 

Our favorite from the Associated Press 
collection of great quotes by Illinois law- 
makers comes from State Senator LeRoy 
Lemke of Chicago: “1 don't think this is 


gonna affect revenue one bit. But what it's 
gonna affect is our truth and velocity with 
the citizens." 

. 

Jeff Noack, a Lakewood, New Jersey, 
resident, was acquitted of a drunk-driving 
charge when he explained that at the time 
he was forced to undergo tests to deter- 
mine his sobriety, he had defecated in his 
panıs 


TYING THE KNOT 


Tehching “Sam” Hsieh and Linda 
Montano аге performance artists. They 
express ideas by using their bodies rather 
than by creating objects. Their new proj- 
ect is going to tie them up for a year— 
literally. They will be connected by an 
eight-foot nylon cord. They arc also going 


to tape all their conversations during the 
period 10 document their art project 
Charles Dexter, a film maker, remarked, 
“Tm amazed. It’s like a wedding. They're 
officially tied together. It makes you think 
about your own life." 

Jane Fisher, an art student, said, “I just 
hope they like the same movies." 

D 

Chicago d.j. Steve Dahl spotted some 
cops who had stopped a motorist for run- 
ning a red light and described on the air 
how the motorist had gotten out of the 
ticket by opening the trunk of his car and 
giving the cops a bunch of record albums. 
Dahl, who met the motorist later, said, 
“The cops will probably go looking for the 
guy when they find out what kind of junk 
records they got." 

. 

A young woman wrote out а check at a 
clothing store in Marina del Rey, Califor- 
nia, but was unable to give corroborating 
identification. Someone, she discovered, 
had stolen her wallet. But she did have 
another kind of identification: “I was the 
May 1983 centerfold in PLAYBOY," she said. 
“And I have a copy to prove it.” The own- 
er happened to walk by just then, recog- 
nized Playmate Susie Scott as a regular 
customer and OKed the check. 

. 

Laughter Is the Next Best Medicine De- 
partment: The phone number of the V.D. 
hotline in San Francisco's gay district is 


495-OGOD. 


STUFFED AND SHOCKED 

It had to happen. Patrick Barrett, 34, of 
Toledo, Ohio, is believed to be the first 
male to file а toxic-shock-syndrome law- 
suit. He claims that his T.S.S. resulted 
from packing stuffed in his nasal cavity 
during surgery for a deviated septum. Опс 
of the packing materials, according to his 
attorney, contained an absorbent polymer 


21 


RULES OF THUMB 


A rule of thumb is а recipe that people use to make up for a lack of facts. A rule of 
thumb may not tell you the best way to do something, bul it will help you guess and get 
away with it. For several years, Tom Parker has been collecting such rules from around 
the world. His book “Rules of Thumb” will be published this fall by Houghton Mifflin. 


PLANNING A DINNER: Аз many as 25 per- 
cent of the guests at a university dinner 
party can come from the economics 
department without spoiling the соп- 
versation. М. F. Riche, economist 
AVOIDING A CRASH IN A CAR RACE: Aim your 
car at the spot where you see an acci- 
dent start—chances are the accident 
will have moved by the time you get 
there. —Joie Chitwood, former Indy 
driver, thrill-show owner 
PLAYING POKER: Don't enter a poker game 
unless you have 40 times the betting 
limit in your pocket. If you plan to play 
poker for a living, start with a bank roll 
at least 200 times the maximum bet. 
—Edwin Silberstang, games expert 
HANDLING TEST EQUIPMENT: Don't tap the 
face of a sticky gauge any harder than 
you would tap the bridge of your nose. 

— Steve Parker, aerospace engineer 
RENTING A TUXEDO: Tuxedos last a long 
time and rarely go out of style. If you 
need to wear one even once a vear, it 
pays to buy and avoid the ordeal of 
renting. —Doug Weaver, accountant 
POUTICAL CAMPAIGNS: For every person 
who gets involved in your campaign by 
contributing money, putting up a lawn 
sign, distributing literature or signing 
an endorsement letter, expect 10 to 15 
votes on election day. 

— Tom Wilbur, county commissioner 
HAVING AN INTERVIEW: During a job inter- 
view, never spend more than 60 sec- 
onds answering a question. 

—Cheryl Russell, demographer 
TAKING A FEDERAL EXAM: On any Govern- 
ment multiple-choice test, the longest 
answer is usually the correct one. 

— Michael F. Brown, patent attorney 
MANAGING THINGS: No manager or super- 
visor should have responsibility for 
more than six activities. 

—Lester R. Bittel, 
management consultant 
SERVING DRINKS: When you are planning 
drinks for a party, figure two drinks per 
guest for the first half hour and one 
drink per hour after that. 

—Lisa Dahl, conference organizer 
MAKING CRIME PAY: Commit a Federal 
crime rather than a state crime. Federal 
judges are more worldly and less likely 


to send you to jail, or for as long. Also, 
Federal prisons are nicer places to stay. 
—Stephen Gillers, journalist 
HITCHHIKING IN AFRICA: Allow one week to 
hitchhike 1000 kilometers in Africa. 
—Henning Pape, traveler 
SETTING UP AN OFFICE: Provide 250 square 
feet of floor space for each vice- 
president (200 for middle managers, 
175 for clerks). 
—T. U. Powell, architect 
BATHTUB TOYS: Bathtub toys from Singa- 
pore generally last longer than those 
from Taiwan. —Norman Bloom 
FINDING A 108: Plan on spending one 
week job hunting for every $2000 in sal- 
ary and benefits you received in your 
last job. If your qualifications are par- 
ticularly high, deduct 20 percent from 
your search time; if they are low, add 50 
percent. If you want to keep your job 
hunt a secret, multiply your final time 
by two. 
— Robert Half, career consultant 
and author 
COOKING AN OSTRICH EGG. One ostrich сер 
will serve 24 people for brunch. 
—Joy of Cooking 
WRITING A SCREENPLAY: One page of an 
average screenplay equals about one 
minute of screen time. Therefore, the 
script for a typical feature film should 
be about 100 pages long. In fact, many 
studios won’t look at screenplays much 
longer than 100 pages. 

—John Griesemer, writer and actor 
CHOKING ON ғоор: If a choking person 
can verbally request the Heimlich ma- 
neuver, he doesn’t need it. 

—James Macmillan, M.D. 
SPOTTING A One out of every three 
Soviet or Soviet-bloc diplomats in this 
country is a spy or has some sort of in- 
telligence-gathering responsibility. 

— William Н. Webster, FBI director 
CAPTURING GIANT SNAKES: ЇЇ you are 
attempting to capture an African 
python, itis wise to have one person for 
every four or five feet of snake, 

— Donald В. Gentner 

WRITING COMPUTER SOFTWARE: А software 
writer can generate about ten lines of 
debugged, high-order language a day. 
— Anonymous systems engineer 


resembling those used in the tampons that 
have been linked to T.S.S. in women. Bar- 
гей, a heavy-equipment operator, has ге- 
covered sufficiently to return to work. 
Appropriately enough, however, he still 
suffers from what his attorney calls 
“periodic cramps.” 


НІМЕҮ HOAX 


An Arlington, Texas, marketing firm 
wants to sell its ass off. One hundred and 
forty radio stations all over the country 
pay Dorsey and Donnelly Enterprises, 
Inc., for the opportunity to air commer- 
cials for a product that doesn’t exist—a 
select group of potables from the Hiney 
Winery: red Hiney, dry Hiney, white 
Hiney and top-of-the-line Derrière. 
Apparently, people have actually gone into 
liquor stores and asked for the products, 
whose slogans include “Even with your 
eyes closed, you know it’s a Hincy.” 
General manager Mike Steinhilper of 
WSSL says 1Һе campaign is popular in 
Pelzer, South Carolina, where he tells his 
advertisers, “That’s what we do for an 
aginary product. Just think what we can 
do for your business.” Do we have to? 

б 

John Crisman, 71, was arguing а mal- 
practice case against two doctors when he 
was stricken by a heart attack and was re- 
suscitated by the defendants. Said one оГ 
them, Dr. Ala al-Mashat, "It's a good 
thing you sued good doctors.” 


BUSTED 


An 18-year-old Portsmouth, Virginia, 
woman was booked for forgery after she 
was identified from a picture taken of her 
at the bank where she tried to cash а stolen 
check. An interesting feature of the arrest 
was that the woman had not been correct- 
ly positioned in front of the camera, so 
only her breasts appeared in the picture. 
But while sitting in a squad car examining 
the photo, Detective D. D. Tester and the 
theft victim spotted a familiar-looking 
pair, ah, bouncing by. It must have been a 
case of arresting development. 


THE RUN-AROUND 


Nedra Weaver, 36, and Donald 
Osborne, 47, have a serious case of the 
runs. So the Waterloo, New York, couple 
planned a sweaty little wedding that went 
like this: 

Weaver, in a lace-trimmed sweat suit, 
entered to the anthem Chariots of Fire and 
met Osborne at the altar (he was in an 
orange warm-up), where they exchanged 
vows. After a five-mile jog to the reception, 
they carbo-loaded on cake (yes, it was 
topped with jogger statuettes), then 
headed for a British Columbia honeymoon 
complete with a moming-after marathon 
run. 

The wedding night, presumably, was 
measured in personal bests. 

. 

They must be shakers, too, then. We 
saw a truck from Chicago with BIG O Mov- 
ERs proudly painted on the side. 


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Ву BRUCE WILLIAMSON 


DON'T LET THE TITLE put you off or lead you 
to expect a gangland melodrama; The Big 
Chill (Columbia) is a crackling contempo- 
rary comedy —worldly, warm-blooded and 
wonderfully put together. Writer-director 
Lawrence Kasdan (here with Barbara 
Benedek as co-author of the screenplay) is 
the man who wrote Raiders of the Lost Ark 
and Return of the Jedi, wrote and directed 
Body Heat. He must be doing something 
right. Big Chill exudes Kasdan’s skill and 
confidence. You know you're in good 
hands from the moment it begins—i 
poky Southern town where eight friends. 
stage a kind of class reunion aft 
suicide of their friend Alex. Seven of them 
аге University of Michigan alumni, Sixties 
rebels who have become affluent, unset- 
ted, unsure of what motivated their 
youthful idealism and zeal. “I hate to 
think it was all just fashion,” one muses. 

Although the screenplay occasionally 
seems somewhat spelled out and schemat- 
ic, Kasdan studies these reluctant signees 
to the social contract with unwavering 
compassion as well as humor. All are 
sharply observed, played on a keen edge by 
Glenn Close and Kevin Kline as the mar- 
ried host and hostess (she had an affair 
with the deceased; he's an amiable tycoon 
who has made a fortune in running shoes); 
Tom Berenger as а handsome TV idol 
who'd like to believe his career really mat- 
ters (he's playing a Tom Selleck clone and 
no mistake); JoBeth Williams as a frus- 
trated creative type who has settled for 
housewifery in Detroit; Mary Kay Place as 
a lawyer who wants a child; Jeff Goldblum 
as a hustling writer for People magazine; 
William Hurt as a misfit who has traded 
his high hopes for drug deals and staying 
stoned; Meg Tilly as the dead man's last 
fling, a simple-minded hanger-on whose 
sensitivity takes the entire crowd by sur- 
prise. Big Chill is not, as you might guess, 
a movie about the Sixties, despite its su- 
perficial resemblance to Return of the 
Secaucus Seven. Kasdan's concerns are dis- 
illusion, growing up, measuring yourself 
against the harsh truths of the real world 
Yet music makes the world go round for 
every generation, and it supplements this 
movie's emotional wallop throughout— 
whether it’s the whole cast improvising an 
after-dinner dance-in while tidying up or a 
poignant rendition of the Stones’ You Can't. 
Always Get What You Want, played with 
funercal solemnity on a church organ. All 
hail Kasdan. Until now, 1983 has not been 
a banner year for adult moviegoers. Chill's 
a welcome change. ¥¥¥¥ 

. 

Nicaragua in 1979, just before the take- 
over Бу Sandinista revolutionaries, is the 
setting for Under Fire (Orion), the most 
timely and cogent movie about journalism 


— ] ^ 


Breaking bread with the Chill gang. 


Kasdan scores again 
with Big Chill; Under 
Fire, Zelig eam praise. 


Woody, as Zelig, sees Paris. 


since All the Presidents Men. Gene Hack- 
man, Nick Nolte and Joanna Cassidy 
occupy the obligatory love triangle, with 
Hackman and Cassidy as a pair of foreign 
correspondents whose relationship is on 
the wane and Nolte as a prize-winning 
photojournalist who generally tries not to 
involve himself with anything. “I don't 
take sides—] take pictures,” he declares. 
But Under Fire forces its three pivotal 
characters to feel the heat of conviction 
a beleaguered country where the future 
may hang on the fate оГопе rebel hero— 
Rafael, а fictional composite of several 
Sandinistas. That's the political underpin- 
ning for an exciting adventure/drama in- 
spired, in part, by the 1979 murder of an 
American newsman in Nicaragua. And the. 
actors scem rcally into it, all on а hot 
streak. with their best performances in a 
long, long while 

It will not give away too much of the 
plot to note that Ronald Shelton's scree 
play (with credit to an “original screen- 
play" by Clayton Frohman) is intelligently 
cynical and sharp throughout. The three- 
some huddled in a lurid night spot in 
Somozaland exchange flip professional 
banter, summed up in Cassidy's knowing 
aside "You're gonna love this war—good 
guys, bad guys and cheap shrimp." Roger 
Spottiswoode's workmanlike direction is 
not quite equal to the writing or the per- 
forming, but Under Fire grabs you because 
it poses important questions that deflect 
casy or obvious answers. No Saturday- 
night escapism here, but precious few pop- 
corn movies offer so much wit, relevance 
and food for thought. ¥¥¥ 

. 

The early wave of rave reviews for 
Woody Allen's Zelig (Orion/Warner) 
sounds like a consensus vote for instant 
nonization of Allen, or at least a tickei 
tape parade down Broadway. Well, 
Woody's latest may not he thal great, but it 
is a work of breath-taking virtuosity. By 
now, millions have stood in line to discover 
Zelig, in which Woody plays the title role, 
as a landmark spoof of documentary 
movies, psychiatry, the fickle finger of 
fame and much, much more. Zclig is a so- 
called chamcleon man whose low 
estecm makes him assume other people's 
physical characteristics because “I want to 
be safe. ... I want to be liked." His odd 
psychological aberration enables him to 
pop up in old newsreel footage or in photo- 
graphs with Eugene O'Neill, Jack Demp- 
sey, even Adolf Hitler—and at one point, 
һе appcars twice in the same Twenties 
speakcasy, looking like a mafioso and a 
black jazz musician. Mia Farrow, Allen's 
current. offscreen companion, pleasantly 
plays the shrink who cures Zelig and ulti- 
mately falls in love with him in black-and- 
white sequences almost perfectly matched. 


"There's no escapingit. 
History iseverywhere you walk 
in Boston. 

From the Old North 
Churchto Faneuil Hall, you 
canalmost hear the passionate 
voices that stirred the flames 
of revolution and charted the 
course for freedom. 

Boston. An American 
phenomenon. Like Dexter 
Shoes. 

Yousee, every pair of 
Dexter Shoes is made right 
4 herein America. Always have 
been. Always will be. Maybe 
that’s why we’re the country’s 
B largest independent shoemaker, 
offering stylish, comfortable, 
affordable shoes for all the 
roads you travel. 

Boston and Dexter Shoes. 
Both alive with the spirit of 
A America. 


America sat your feet. 


© 1983 Dexter Shoe Company, 31 St. Jamesawe.. Boston, МАО 


PLAYBOY 


28 


to the grainy golden-oldy material (ace 
cinematographer Gordon Willis can take 
another bow and is dead certain to grab 
another Oscar nomination as well). 

Now for the bad news. What's wrong 
with Zelig, їп case you find yourself 
curiously unmoved on leaving the theater, 
is that the movie has no heart. A brilliant 
blend of fact and film fakery, Allen’s 
gigantic conceit is fiendishly clever but 
ultimately more amazing than amusing. 
While Zelig scores as an original, some- 
what cerebral tour de force, audiences 
should not flock to it expecting outright 
miracles. YY 

. 

Man meets Canis lupus іп Never Cry Wolf 
(Buena Vista), an astonishing adventure 
epic filmed in the arctic high country by 
Carroll Ballard, director of the visually 
dazzling Black Stallion. This time out, Bal- 
lard leaves his mark on Wolf as a movable 
feast of sights, sounds and extraordinary 
physical excitement. In fact, the movie, 
based on a book by Farley Mowat about 
his experiences in the wild, gets a bit swol- 
len with ecological pretentiousness toward 
the end. But long before the message starts 
to fog the screen, you're bound to be 
hooked, as I was—if there's any spirit of 
dauntless youth left in you—by Charles 
Martin Smith, as the somewhat ncbbishy 
hero who ventures alone into an icy waste- 
land and begins “to feel wonder again. 
Highly subjective, the film nudges a 
viewer into Smith's consciousness while 
he settles down as next-door neighbor to 
a den of wolves. Native Eskimos and white 
exploiters intrude from time to time, 
but they seem to heighten the sense of 
solitude in this vast tundra, simul- 
taneously providing such essential services 
as comic relief. Without an occasional gig- 
gle, the great outdoors might be loo bloody 
awesome. ¥¥¥ 


P 

Must have been slim pickings at this 
year's Cannes International Film Festival, 
where Cross Creek (Universal) was heaped 
with praise. At best, I'd say that director 
Martin Ritt’s movie version of Marjorie 
Kinnan Rawlings’ autobiography is not 
bad. At worst, it is all too familiar and pre- 
dictable as the tale of a recently divorced 
city mouse who finds herself—as well as a 
subject for her novels—when she moves 
South toa rustic hovel in central Florida in 
1928. Underplaying to a fault, Mary 
Steenburgen as Marjorie has to carry the 
burden of some very cumbersome narra- 
tion, telling us of her discovery that she’s 
not just a writer but “а wife, a friend, a 
part of the carth.” Solid supporting per- 
formances by Alfre Woodard as Rawlings’ 
loyal black housekeeper, Rip Torn as a 
country neighbor and Peter Coyote—con- 
fidently virile and straightforward as the 
local hotelkeeper who becomes Rawlings’ 
second husband—play against the pre- 
vailingly passive mode of Cross Creek. The 
lush Florida swampland is another asset— 
lots of scenery to ogle while the Rawlings 


Charles Martin Smith and caribou companions in Never Cry Wolf. 


Mother Nature stars in 
Never Cry Wolf, gives а 
needed assist to Cross Creek. 


Cross Creek's Coyote, Steenburgen. 


character shares memories that might he 
summed up as "How 1 Wrote The Year- 
ling." Overall, well intended but middling, 
with an embarrassing cameo by Malcolm 
McDowell (Steenburgen’s husband, you 
see) as the famed book editor Maxwell 
Perkins, who stops by the swamp on his 
way to visit “Ernest” in Key West. ұз 


. 

Two finely tuned performances by Man- 
dy Patinkin and Lindsay Crouse, as Paul 
and Rochelle Isaacson, do a lot for Daniel 
(Paramount). Both actors bring zealous, 
slightly askew political passion to charac- 
ters inspired by Julius and Ethel Rosen- 
berg, tried and executed three decades ago 
for conspiracy to pass atomic secrets to the 
Soviets. Either the Rosenbergs were up 10 
their necks in espionage or they were inept 
Communist dupes—sacrificial lambs dur- 
ing America’s Cold War hysteria of the 
early Fifties. But don't look for an answer 
here. Adapted by E. L. Doctorow from his 
novel The Book of Daniel, director Sidney 
Lumet's unwieldy film version is bound to 
baffle anyone who missed both the book 
and the actual save-the-Rosenbergs move- 


ment. Daniel, with Timothy Hutton in the 
relatively thankless title role, jumps back 
and forth through time, always intelligent 
but often infuriating. I kept waiting for the 
movie as a whole to explode dramatically, 
politically or psychologically. We are left 
with random scenes from a dense, probing 
novel that stubbornly refuses to shape up 
on the screen. YY 


. 
Writer-director Paul Brickman (whose 
first full-length screenplay was for 


Jonathan Demme's Citizens Band, a.k.a 
Handle with Care) makes a promising 
directorial debut with Risky Business (War- 
ner). Totally amoral and checky, Brick- 
man’s nose-thumbing comedy stars Tom 
Cruise—one of the hottest young teen 
idols since Matt Dillon—as an enterpris- 
ing schoolboy from an affluent suburb of 
Chicago. While his parents are away on 
vacation, Cruise explores the American 
dream after getting involved with a sleek 
callgirl (played with lots of casual flair by 
Rebecca De Mornay). It’s the hooker’s 
idea to turn the family manse into a 
brothel. Cruise’s instantly corruptible in- 
nocence is so engaging that Risky Business 
never seems as crude and tasteless as it 
must sound in summary. Brickman cannot 
be said to seta shining example for toda: 
youth, but why should he? With uptight 
conservatism on the upsurge all around us, 
his brand of irreverence deserves to be en- 
couraged. YY 


. 

Buried within the bone heap of Staying 
Alive (Paramount) is one rare moment of 
truth when a dancer declares, “This is 
bullshit!” That remark pretty accurately 
sums up the slipshod sequel to Saturday 
Night Feuer directed by Sylvester Stallone, 
with John Travolta back as Tony Manero 
tying to make it as а Broadway hoofer. 
The opening, though badly botched, is 
stolen wholc from All That Jazz. The rest 
of it suggests amateur-night imitations of 
Fever, Flashdance, Rocky and every boy- 
loses-girl musical ever made to be forgot- 
пеп. Cynthia Rhodes and Finola Hughes 
play the swivel-hipped unfortunates who 
fight over Travolta while rehearsing for a 
hit show called Satan's Alley. Looked to me 
like a full-fledged fiasco that would close in 
Philly, and I say to hell with it. Y 


MOVIE SCORE CARD 
capsule close-ups of current films 
by bruce williamson 

The Big Chill (Reviewed this month) 
Kasdan’s smashing all-star salute to 
sex, fun and friendship. УУУУ 
Cross Creek (Reviewed this month) 
Woman writer roughs it in swamp. YY 
Daniel (Reviewed this month) The 
Rosenbergs revisited in a disappointing 
movie based on Doctorow’s novel. ¥¥ 
Easy Money А small debit for 


Dangerfield. y 
Eddie and the Cruisers Watch a guy 
named Paré. БЫ 


Educoting Rita А latter-day My Fair 
Lady, Michael Caine grade A as the 
drunken prof and tough tutor. ¥¥¥ 

Fanny & Alexander Warm, masterful 
comedy by Ingmar Bergman. УУУУ 

Gabriela Braga meets Mastroianni 


a tropical heat wave. wur 
Heart Like а Wheel Bonnie Bedclia as a 
race-car champion. yyyv 


Heat and Dust Racy vintage romance 
about British colonials in India—with 
Julie Christie, Shashi Kapoor. ¥¥¥% 

Krull Forgettable futuristic film- 
flam. y 

Loose Joints Movie spoofery, hit ог 
miss but amusing just often enough. YY 

Never Cry Wolf (Reviewed this month) 
It's a howler in the great outdoors. ¥¥¥ 

Octopussy Roger Moore as 007, 
Maud Adams as the title number УУУ 

Pauline at the Beach Summer ro- 
mance, with a subtle French flavor. ¥¥¥ 

Puberty Blues Bruce Beresford's wry 
ode to Aussie surfside groupies. Ұ%ҰМ 

Risky Business (Reviewed this month) 
The best little whorehouse in suburban 
Chicago, with Tom Cruise. y 

The Star Chomber Vigilante justice is 
decreed by L.A. judges. Uh-huh. ¥¥ 

Staying Alive (Reviewed this month) 


Travolta in a misbegotten sequel. y 
Strange Invaders Minor but promising 
s-f set in a strange small town. y 


Trading Places Murphy and Aykroyd 
in a first-rate comedy—with Jamie Lee 
Curtis. WI, 

La Traviata You don't have to be an 
opera bufl to enjoy this lush Camille 
according to Verdi and Zefhrelli. ¥¥¥ 

Under Fire (Reviewed this month) 
Provocative political drama. Wy 

WarGames Computer whiz kid 
pushes the button by mistake.  ¥¥¥14 

Zelig (Reviewed this month) Woody's 
dandy deadpan send-up of documen- 
tary movies. WI 


УУУУ Don't miss ¥¥ Worth а look 
¥¥¥ Good show Y Forgetit 


SCARLETT O'HARA 

By the glass. 1 jigger (1/2 oz.) Southern Comfort. Cranberry 
juice cocktail. Wedge of fresh lime. Pour Southern Comfort 
over ice cubes in an Old-Fashioned glass; fill glass with 
cranberry juice cocktail. Squeeze in juice from the lime 


wedge, and add the wedge. 


By the pitcher. Fill a 32-02. pitcher with ісе. Add 4-5 oz. 
Southern Comfort. Fill with cranberry juice cocktail and the 
juice of Y2 lime. Stir 


For a free copy of Southern Comfort's newest recipe guide, 
please write to: Recipe Booklet, Dept. AD, Box 12427, 
St. Louis, MO 63132, or call toll-free: 1-800-325-4038. 


а Jeep! | Jeep, FI CJ 


Jeep, is a registered trademark of Jeep Corporation. 


па now, for those of you who enjoy the 

quiet sort of nitwit humor that always 
seems to go for the chuckle rather than the 
belly laugh, the kind of comedy that is, 
finally, more American than Oklahoma 
City, Atheneum presents From Approx- 
imately Coast to Coast . . . #5 the Bob and Ray 
Show, a collection of radio scripts by Bob 
Elliott and Ray Goulding, perhaps the 
most semicelebrated comedy team in liv- 
ing memory, Share the intensity of 
“General Pharmacy” - “the dramatic 
story of handsome young druggist Ross 
Flecknoy and his struggle to save human- 
ity at the prescription counter of a 
pharmacy still technically owned by his 
aging father.” Further, note the incisive 
sports-intei techniques of Biff Burns 
as he grills Edgar Barnhorst, who is pro- 
posing that the N.B.A. lower the basket 
two feet so that “any middle-aged man 
standing 5'6" should have enough talent to 
play pro ball? We say enjoy, and thank 
you, Bob and Ray, for quiet parody in an 
otherwise noisy place. 

Б 


In baseball, a long throw is a rainbow. 
In football, it’s a bomb. Those who love 
the way our games reveal themselves by 
their vocabularies will also love Tim Con- 
sidine's The Language of Sport (World Alma- 
пас). It's a dictionary of sports terms from 
ace (shared by baseball, golf and tennis) to 
zone (shared, of course, by football, hock- 
cy and the Los Angeles Lakers) —a valu- 
able reference for sportswriters, bar 
bettors and just plain fans. 

. 

Jamie leaves her husband, takes their 
two kids and gets on ап eastbound 
Greyhound at Oakland with little money 
and fewer plans. A tattooed drifter named 
Bill Houston is on that bus with beer and 
bourbon, easy talk and easier money. The 
country spreads out like a rash for Jamie 
and Bill as they scratch their way back 
across it, from a sad hotel in Pitts- 
burgh to a pitiless stretch of Arizona des- 
ert, in Denis Johnson’s splendid novel 
Angels (Knopf). Bills got family іп 
Phoenix—a father in prison, a brother on 
smack, another on parole—and there's 
talk of work, something about a bank. 
Johnson's spirits roam the suburbs of dis- 
aster, armed with a sense of impending 
doom and moments of real clarity. Angels 
is one of the finest first novels we've read. 


. 

On the night of February 17, 1970, the 
wife and two daughters of U.S. Army 
physician Jeffrey MacDonald were brutal- 
ly murdered in the family apartment at 
Fort Bragg, North Carolina. The 26-year- 
old Dr. MacDonald, an all-American suc- 
cess story if there ever was one (attractive, 
a former high school quarterback, attend- 
ance at schools such as Princeton 
University and Northwestern Medical and 


It's the Bob and Ray Show. 


Bob and Ray reprised, a new 
Larry McMurtry novel and а 
look at sports lingo. 


A flower in the Vegas desert. 


internship at Columbia Presbyterian 
Medical Center, a Green Beret officer), 
was found lying face down next to the 
body of his wife, his head on her chest, one 
arm around her. The doctor was alive, and 
as the military police began to investigate 
the scene, he daimed that four Manson- 
type hippies chanting “Acid is groovy. 

Kill the pigs” had broken in and attacked 
him and his family. MacDonald had some 
wounds cf questionable severity, and for a 


time his story held together. Fatal Vision 
(Putnam's), by Joe McGinniss, is a rivet- 
ing piece of reporting that traces how 
MacDonald's version of that night began 
to unravel and what happened afterward. 
Seven hundred-plus pages that you'll 
want to read in one sitting, Fatal Vision is 
first-rate and frightening. 
. 

The Desert Rose (Simon & Schuster), Lar- 
ту McMurtry's tenth novel, is a charmer 
set in Las Vegas and Bimboland. The title 
beauty and bimbo is Harmony, a 39-year- 
old Vegas showgirl who lives іп a duplex 
out in the desert. Harmony, who keeps 
peacocks that tend to keel over in the heat, 
lives with her knockout of a 16-year-old 
daughter, Pepper. As we learn alternately 
from Harmony and Pepper, Harmony's 
having less and less luck with Pepper, 
worse luck with her low-rent boyfriends 
and no luck at work, where her boss wants 
to fire her and hire—who else?—Pepper 
in her place. For Pepper, everything's com- 
ing up—you got it. But what could have 
been a pat exercise іп whcel-oFfortune 
“Pm down, you're up" is anything but. 
Harmony and Pepper are splendidly 
dumb about certain things but as wise as 
can be about others. A mother-and- 
daughter team worth knowing. 


BOOK BAG 


James Cogney: The Authorized Biography 
(St. Martins), by Doug Warren with 
James Cagney: The Yankee-Doodle Dan- 
dy has his say and we're glad. 

Caretakers (Macmillan), by Tabitha 
King: Some novelists have trouble getting 
published. Tabitha King has a husband 
named Stephen. Stephen has zillions of 
readers. Caretakers will bring even more of 
them to the King family 

Electronic Life: How to Think About Comput- 
ers (Knopf), by Michael Crichton: A 
solid—but very elementary—guide to 
personal computing by the author of The 
Andromeda Strain. If you already know the 
difference between a bit and a byte, we'd 
advise you not to bite. 

Scandal! (Dell), by Janet Street-Porter: 
If you've been too busy over the years to 
read the sleazoid press, here in one 
convenient volume is all the delicious dirt 
about the famous, from Fatty Arbuckle to 
Fanne Foxe. Even the paper has the reas- 
suring look and feel of the real thing. 

Medera Nannes (PAS [ny FE dj 
O'Rourke: The funniest and smartest 
theme book yet. We read out loud some of 
the sections on sex, clothes and table man- 
ners—even to people іп the office who 
didn't really need the information. 

American Вес! (Atheneum), by Bob 
Greene: It's been said that water covers 
two thirds of the earth and Bob Greene 
covers the rest. This is a collection of his 
columns on subjects ranging from Richard 
Nixon to Richard Speck. It's the work of a 
top reporter at the top of his form. 


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MUSIC 


LASSICAL HOT LICKS: Last 

year, when classical musician Richard 
Stoltzman performed the first solo clarinet 
recital ever held in Carnegie Hall, Benny 
Goodman led the audience in a standing 
ovation. After five encores, Stoltzman 
ended with a spine-tingling rendition of 
Amazing Grace, not exactly a classical 
staple. The critics went nuts. The New 
York Times praised his "exceptionally 
personal approach to every piece he 
plays" and The Boston Globe drooled over 
his "gorgeous sweetness.” As if parrying 
with his admirers, Stoltzman later 
moaned, “Тһе only thing I'm thinking 
about when the performance is over is 
that I didn't die up on that stage!" 

Could it be that he was remembering 
back to the Sixties, when, as an Ohio 
State undergrad, Stoltzman played for 
beers in a group called The Embers? An 
enthusiastic carly fan and drinking bud- 
dy booked Camegie Recital Hall one 
night and flew The Embers and their en- 
tourage to New York. For that perform- 
апсе, Stoltzman admits to helping lug an 
eight-foot comb onto the stage for atmos- 
phere, slicking his hair back, putting on 
a custom-made jump suit and sliding 
downstage on his knees to blow notes 
that he is proud were never recorded. 

Now ostensibly a grownup, Stoltzman 
still manages to keep some version of 
that eight-foot comb with him when he 
performs. Maybe his tux is velvet in the 
dead of summer, or else he's got a weird 
electronic pin in his lapel. In one way or 
another, his impish enthusiasm tests the 
seams of his otherwise cool and correct 
dinner jacket. 

He tried to explain: “I practiced all 
my scales and arpeggios. I pointed my 
staccatos and smoothed my legatos, and 
I tried to be as good a classical musician 
as I could, but I've always had this urge 
to improvise. .. ^" 

By the looks of full classical houses from 
New York to Vienna to Tokyo, as well as 
the enthusiasm of his jazz fans, Stoltzman 


із about to Бе universally acclaimed as an 
eccentric, eclectic genius. He's now slated 
for several more Carnegie Hall recitals 
next year that will probably include a trib- 
ute to Thelonious Monk, performed with 
bassist Eddic Gomez. 

But їп the rigid world of classical music, 
Stoltzman has predictable problems with. 
those who think he's too much of a vir- 
tuoso. After all, he's not just a clarinetist 
who gets ovations for Mozart and Webern 
but one who brings on Goodman, Monk 
and his old friend pianist Bill Douglas. 

Even his label, RCA Red Seal, has been 
reluctant to let him record improvisational 
music in the past. But now that he has won 
his first Grammy (for Brahms Sonatas for 
Clarinet and Piano), maybe RCA will let 
him record some of his swingier material. 
His astonishing version of There Will 
Newer Be Anolher You, previously per- 
formed live with Douglas, would be a 
splendid place to start. —-sUsAN MARGOLIS 


REVIEWS 


Jimmy Buffett, the king of Gulf & West- 
ern music, has been exploring new oceans 
lately—personally and musically. He has 


TRUST US 


Warning: The editor who makes 
these choices has lately taken to staring 
disconsolately at the turntable, calling 
the time lady and reading firearms 
manuals. We strongly recommend that 
you stay away from the stuff on the 


Not list. 


HOT 


Gus Hardin 

. Bernard Edwards / Glad to Be Неге 
. Diana Ross / Ross 

. Mel Tormé / Songs of New York 
(previously released material) 


. King Sunny Adé / Synchro System 


SON 


[2 


fallen in love with Tahiti and environs, for 
onc thing; and he's got a whole new band, 
for another, with three percussionists, in- 
cluding a steel drummer from Trinidad 
and Little Feat's former conga player, plus 
Timothy Schmit, late of The Eagles, on 
guitar. Anyone who saw Buffett's summer 
tour will agree that these guys rock—espe- 
cially on Rodney Crowell's Stars on the 
Water and Van Morrison's Brown Eyed 
Girl. Both are on Buffett's new album, One 
Particular Harbour (MCA), with some 
changes in latitudes, if not attitudes, from 
the originals. The ttle cut strikes out 
toward more exotic regions than he’s 
gone before, and there’s one cut he told 
us is “sung by a wino in the year 2020.” 
Buffett’s still sailing away. 
. 

In simpler times, Aretha Franklin gave 
us a lesson in Respect, a few reasons to 
Think, a Dr. to make us Feelgood. Her 
leonine voice took us back to the Gospel 
lair, We called her the Queen of Soul. A 
couple of years ago, after a hiatus from the 
hit parade, Aretha hit the studios with 
writer-producer Luther Vandross. Their 
second effort together, Get It Right (Arista), 
is awash with synthesizers and backup 
vocalists gentling cach song into oblivion. 
Except for the dynamic / Wish It Would 
Rain—in which Aretha solos with a funky 
bass just long enough to whet our appetite 
for soul food— Vandross' soft-focus soul- 
fulness obscures the talents of his star. 
Now we've heard the impossible—an 
Aretha Franklin album that doesn’t make 
you want to dance. 

. 

It hasn't been casy for Carlene Carter to 
get out from under the shadow of the 
Grand Ole Opry. Like stepsister Rosanne 
Cash, Carter gets a little punkier with each 
album. Unfortunately, C’est С Bon (Epic) 
places her in the gray area of pop/punk 
that has taken up public hypnosis where 
disco left of. The songs—most of them 
written or co-written by Carter—catalog 


NOT 


- Scott Baio / The Boys Are Out Tonight 
Bobby Braddock / Hardpore Cornog- 
rophy 

Shooting Star / Burning 

Rage / Nice ‘n’ Dirty 

. Motivation 


چ ا лы‏ 


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


You never had it this fresh! = 


BRIGHT 


BRIGHT | 
1005 кей | 


-The taste that 
outshines menthol- - 
and leaves you witha 
clean, fresh taste. 


Fresh Clean Taste В 
Low Таг 


FAST TRACKS 


WHO WROTE THE BOOK OF LOVE? DEPARTMENT: As if the phenomenal success of The Police's 
latest album, Synchronicity, and a summer of sold-out concert tours weren't enough, it 
turns out that Andy Summers is a terrific photographer. The shot you see here is from his 
forthcoming book, Throb, published by William Morrow. While The Police traveled the 
world, Summers clicked away at the scenes of road life. Then he went onstage and 
played the guts ош of his guitar. We don't know about you, bul we're very impressed! 


ЕТТІМС THE SCENE: The lights dim, the 

overture begins, the curtain rises 
and what do you see? Vegetables, rats 
and weasels. What's going оп here? 
This is Broadway, after all, not some 
punk club on the Lower East Side. Re- 
lax, folks; i's opening night on the 
Great White Way for the most inven- 
tive Mother of them all, Frank Zappa. 
The only resemblance of this high-tech 
extravaganza to a typical Broadway 
show, says Frank, is that it will run in a 
legit theater. The characters from his 
various songs will have roles in the pro- 
duction, which Zappa is writing and 
producing but not performing in 
Who’d want to compete оп stage with a 
rutabaga, anyway? 

REEUNG AND ROCKING: Film rights to 
Michael Jackson's song Billie Jean are 
being discussed with Shep Gordon, head 
of Alive Enterprises, and Chris Black- 
well of Island Records. . . . Steel Breeze, 
Rick Wakeman, Leo Sayer and Rick Derrin- 
ger have contributed music to an 
animated rock film, 20,001 B.C., de- 
scribed as a send-up of the dawn of 
man. . . . Willie Nelson is busy with 
movie commitments, in addition to his 
recording schedule and concert stops. 
After filming Songwriter with Kris Kris- 
tofferson, Willie expects to portray a 
rodeo bull rider in The Life and Legend 
of Freckles Brown. He'll write and sing 
the score, which is hardly unexpected, 
but he'll also shave and cut his hair, 
which is news. . . . Dudley Moore plans to 
star in a film based on the career of pop 
impresario Simon Napier Bell, who man- 
aged the careers of Marc Bolan and the 
Yardbirds, among others. 

NEwsBREAKS: We Americans have 
something called The War College, so 
it only stands to reason that we should 
also have a Peace Museum. It’s located in 
Chicago and a current exhibit called 
Give Peace a Chance runs through 
January 1984. Some 25 leading musi- 
cians, including Yoko, Joan Baez, Stevie 


Wonder, Laura Nyro, Randy Newman, 
Laurie Anderson and Pete Seeger, have 
contributed materials from their per- 
sonal — collections—original manu- 
scripts, instruments (John Lennon's 
guitar), artwork, photos, memorabilia 
and gold records. If yow're in the Mid- 
west this fall and winter, come and take 
a look. . . . November is the time and 
St. Louis, Memphis, Indianapolis, Cin- 
cinnati, Atlanta and Greensboro, 
North Carolina, are the places to check 
out the Marlboro Country Music Tour, 
featuring Barbara Mandrell, Ronnie Milsap 
and Ricky Skaggs. . . . Album news: Look 
for a studio LP, described as rock ’n’ 
roll, from those two fun guys from the 
Great White North, Bob and Doug 
McKenzie. The latest Stones’ should be 
upon us and also a touch of nostalgia 
from the San Francisco Bay Area called 
A Wing and a Prayer, recorded by 
Matthew Kelly, formerly of the Kingfish, 
and including nearly all the Grateful 
Dead, Mike Bloomfield, Keith Godchaux, 
John Cipollina and Nicky Hopkins. . . . It’s 
really no surprise that video rock and 
the TV channels that show it have 
caused a lot of criticism and commen- 
tary. After all, it’s new and it’s hot stuff 
with the viewers. Contrary to what you 
might expect, though, rock artists are 
not making money from having their 
clips on TV—and now some labels 
want the cost of videos to come out of 
the artists’ royalties. Another issue 
being debated is whether TV outlets 
should continue to get the clips free or 
should have to ante up. One person 
who isn’t impressed with the quality of 
cables MTV channel is Arista head 
Clive Davis, who said he was not at all 
interested in the “thespian qualities” of 
a bass player. One thing is certain: 
Based on sales last summer, video rock 
is selling records in large numbers 
again. So, if the fans are buying, 
how come that isn’t enough for the 
moguls? —BARBARA NELLIS 


monosyllabic couplets (guy/cry, be/me, 
man/can) against comatose instrumenta- 
tion. And while she has a fine, strong 
voice, she chews up all the lyrics looking 
for the heart of that pogo-stick beat. Other 
than a delightful Third Time Charm, C'est 
С Bon n'est pas bon. 


. 
Remember the American Fool? The 
Hoosier who made us hurt so good? Well, 
John Cougar went back tothe studio in his 
beloved Seymour, Indiana—this time as a 
producer—and gave the world Mitch 
Ryder's Never Kick a Sleeping Dog (Poly- 
Gram). Which might just as well have 
been called American Fool II. Ryder had 
established himself as a hard-drivin’, hard- 
lovin’ kind of guy before he teamed up 
with Joe Mellencamp. But the Cougar in- 
fluence on Dog goes beyond the point of 
collaboration. This album will make you 
want to tune up a Harley just to get ойу. 
. 


Pillows & Prayers (Cherry Red) is а 17- 
song British anthology that sells for a mere 
five dollars at those hip New Wave record 
stores. Both its price and its rich mix of 
little-known Brit bands recommend it. 
"The Marine Girls sing of losing love; Тһе 
Passage gives bright, infectious melody 
with philosophical lyrics; Attila the Stock- 
broker rants humorously about punky 
English kids. After 16 tunes of driven, New 
Wave-folky music, mirthful wag Quentin 
Crisp ends the compilation with this 
whiny, prophetic monolog: “Unless this 
music is stopped now, the human race 
will . . die? Ah, the English, so droll. 

Б 


If anyone has ever doubted the perni- 
cious influence of рор, rock and disco on 
country music, he need but cock an ear 
at some recent releases: Ronnie Milsap's 
Keyed Up (RCA), Conway Twitty's Lost in 
the Feeling (Warner) and the venerable 
Eddy Arnold's Close Enough to Lose (RCA). 
Eddy is to be forgiven; he was crooning to 
Grandma back on 78s. But his corrupted 
colleagues have virtually abandoned good 
ol' string-band laments for strange varia- 
tions on the Wayne Newton leisure-suit 
sound. On some cuts, the tragedy is com- 
pounded by Mantovani orchestration and 
backups reminiscent of the Mormon 
Tabernacle Choir. Maybe they're good at 
what they do, but so what? 

. 

Ralph Towner is a brilliant guitarist; we 
knew that. What we didn't know, and 
what Blve Sun (ECM) abundantly proves, 
is that he's an eclectically original compos- 
er/arranger. Here he's created intricate 
settings for his supple, lyrical guitar lines. 
Building from repeated, vaguely Eastern 
synthesizer patterns, adding richly roman- 
tic piano chordings, Towner completes the 
effect by tossing in some brightly colored 
horn parts. The elements bounce off one 
another with dynamic and rhythmic shifts 
ranging from the extremely subtle to the 


weepingly cinematic. Call it late-20th 

entury polyrhythmic counterpoint. Did 
we mention he plays all the other instru- 
ments, too? Amazing. 

B 

If you've never had your metabolism 
altered by that man-made eruption known 
as Tito Puente's big band, you can get a 
taste of that salsa on Tito Puente and His 
latin Ensemble/ On Broadway (Concord/ 
Picante). The sound is not that of Puente's 
marvelous big band but that of a smaller 
group, and it provides a few hints of great- 

ess. Тһе bonding of Latin rhythms and 
jazz can be the best of both souls, as it is 
when Puente's crew attacks Milton N 
miento's Soul Song or Puente’s оул 
Especial. But overall, this is restra 
timid sampler of what the maestro can 
generate. We hope that next time, Соп- 
cord will assemble the whole band and let 
it explode for the benefit of those gringos 
who have never been warmed by its fire 


Before his days as a jazz singer an 
pop-soul singer, Lou Rawls was a Gospel 
That’s where the infectious warmth 
є was formed. His latest album, 

When the Night Comes (Epic), is not di 
appointing in that respect. There are a 
bunch of up-tempo pop tunes, plus a 
strong lyric contributed by our own good 
friend Shel Silverstein. P.S.: When Lou 

hits the low notes, he really gets down. 
. 

Some critics have always maintained 
that Jerry Lee Lewis isn't a real rock-a- 
billy cat, because he plays piano rather 

uitar. Those malcontents will have а 
hard time with The Blasters’ Non Fiction 
(Slash/Warner), which relies he: 
roughnecking piano that someti 
as far south as the Mississippi delta. 
This peppy swagger down memory lane 
equals the West Coast group’s first roc 
billy venture for pure energy and cat licks 
but leans in a bluesier direction. It has a 
bigger, more contemporary sound the pur- 
ists won't like, but don't let that stop you. 


SHORT CUTS 

Al Jarreau / Jarreau (Warner): Smooth, 
tasteful and seamless. If we hadn't got- 
ten a review copy, wed have gone out 
and bought one 

The Creatures / Feast (Wonderland/Poly- 

ie (recall the Banshees?) 
gets together with Hawaiian folk musi- 
cians for lots of powerful, rhythmic chant- 
ing, some honest, naive poetry but not 
enough melody. 

Spyro буға / City Kids (MCA). 
sunny, smart jazz. Keyboardist 
Schuman tried his hand at writing 
time and came up with the funky five-star 
title track. 

Augustus Pablo / Earth's Rightful Ruler 
(Message): Reggae master Pablo and his 
melodica аге shy, intense, religious and 
musically inventive, if sometimes surpris- 


ingly subducd. Lots of new sounds here 


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40 


TELEVISION 


By TONY SCHWARTZ 


You can have the new shows. As the fall 
season gets under way this month, I won’t 
be holding my breath. Whom are we kid- 
ding? Sure, a dozen spanking-new and 
very expensive shows will be launched, as 
always. But nearly all of them will fail fast 
and deservedly. The one or two that sur- 
vive aren't likely to be the most ex- 
perimental ones. Last season's biggest hit, 
after all, was The A-Team. 

Still, there is something about the fall 
season that makes me faintly (and pru- 
riently) breathless with anticipation. 
That's the prospect of seeing a lot of high- 
powered television careers on the line. 
Familiar faces (and a few unfamiliar ones) 
are poised to fall flat—or hit it bigger than 
ever. Therein lies the season's most com- 
pelling drama. What follows is a guide to 
the main players—some of them behind 
the scenes, others oncamera—and how to 
assess their performances. 

Fred Silverman. When NBC dumped him 
more than two years ago, the erstwhile 
network-programing genius seemed to go 
into hibernation. Actually, he migrated to 


Hollywood and turned producer—a 


Who's going up? Who's 
going down? Tune in for 
the seasons career capers. 


humbling experience for а big man more 
accustomed to being pitched than to doing 
the pitching. 

Not long ago, Silverman gave a speech 
exhorting the networks to be more ex- 
perimental if they hoped to compete effec- 
tively in the new video age. But the man 
who virtually invented the word spin-off 
isn't about to jump first into the new fron- 
tier. The more publicized of his two new 
projects for the fall is Thicke of the Night, a 
talk show starring а Canadian comedian 
named Alan Thicke. Many stations are 
pitting Thicke of the Night against The 
Tonight Show, which is creaking slightly їп 
its middle age. 

But its Silverman's other entry that 
should generate controversy. Titled We 
Got It Made, the show is a half-hour situa- 
tion comedy for NBC that is easily the 
dumbest and most exploitive concept 
scheduled for a new fall show. It's about. 
two bachelors who hire a gorgeous dumb. 
blonde to be their live-in maid. Sound 
familiar? Whatever happens, it will be en- 
tertaining to have feisty Fred back. 

Brandon Tartikoff and Grant Tinker. Тһе 
honeymoon is over. After replacing Silver- 
man last summer, Tinker got a year's 
grace on the basis of his record as a pro- 
ducer of quality shows. Tartikoff, Silver- 
man's protégé and NBC's programing 
‚chief, got his grace on the ground that he'd 
never had a chance to operate independ- 
ently. Last season, NBC emphasized qual- 
ity and won kudos but not better ratings. 

Now, given the brutal competitiveness 
of television, it's put-up-or-shut-up time, 
and both men know it. NBC is tossing in a 


fair measure of schlock this fall, led by the 
Silverman entry. Tartikof says that NBC 
needs some hits to support the better 
shows that take more time to find an audi- 
ence. If the ploy works and NBC creeps up 
to second place after all these cellar vears, 
Tartikoff and Tinker will be forgiven for a 
little pandering and remembered for turn- 
ing NBC around. For Tartikoff, the Wun- 
derkind who has yet to deliver, that would 
have to be a special relief. 

Steven Bochco. The cocreator and execu- 
tive producer of Hill Street Blues, the only 
show Fd watch even if I weren't writing 
about television, Bochco has parlayed his 
success into a second NBC show this fall: 
Bay City Blues, a comedy about a minor- 
league baseball team. Тһе drama lies in 
whether he'll make of that another 
ground-brcaking hit show (something akin 
to making consecutive holes in опе) or 
whether both shows will suffer from his. 
vided energies. Even the best series have a 
half life, and already Hill Street Blues has 
moments of melodramatic self-parody. 
The challenge for Bochco is not to become 
so mesmerized by his past success that he 
imitates himself instead of innovating. 

Roone Arledge. Wearing his ABC Sports 
chicf hat, Arledge can scarcely go wrong 
this season. The 1984 Olympics, which 
ABC will cover with exhaustive and un- 
precedented resources this winter and next. 
summer, із destined to be the most spec- 
tacular television sports event ever. 
Arledge's fortunes in his more prestigious 
domain—as head of ABC News—are 
much less certzin. After a strong, sus- 


tained comeback, ABC ^ 
hurting recently. Из evening news pro- 
gram has always lacked a star-quality 
anchor man and the Canadian-born Peter 
Jennings may or may not grow into that 
role. 

Phil Donahue. Among all the prominent 
television personalities at a crossroads, 
Donahue may be the leader. The syndi- 
cated Donahue show is still very successful, 
but after so many years, the number of 
hot issues worth getting histrionic about 
is diminishing. Donahue himself has said 
that he doesn’t want to keep doing the 
same thing forever. Still, his other recent 
efforts—interviews for Today on NBC and 
for The Last Word on ABC—have seemed 
like pale versions of his main event. 

Ivs hard to imagine Donahue doing 
something as radical as moving into an 
anchor role someday, but stranger things 
have happened. In any case, it’s time for a 
bold move by Donahue. 

Tom Brokaw, Here’s a man who should be 
kicking himself for turning down Arledge’s 
offer last year to make him a big star at 
АВС News. Instead, Brokaw stayed at 
NBC for a lot of money and a co-anchor 
slot on the Nightly News with Roger Mudd, 
a match-up that proved much less success- 
ful than the solo Dan Rather at CBS—so 
much less so that Mudd was uncere- 
moniously dropped in July. NBC News re- 
mains the least exciting among the three 
network news divisions, and Brokaw has 
acknowledged as much in interviews 

The test for Brokaw this season is 
whether or not he can use his considerable 
clout to build a news division that meets 
his own expectations. Опе of the first vie~ 
tims of such a power struggle could be 
NBC News president Reuven Frank, a 
thoughtful man but one whose languid 
style seems sorely out of touch with the 
times. 

Mike Wallace. What now for the 60 Min- 
ules standard-bearer? With the show 
under more scrutiny, Wallace has taken 
his lumps during the past several years. 
He has made mistakes, but his visibility 
has magnified them; Wallace remains un- 
questionably the best investigative report- 
er on television. Like Donahue, however, 
he must be asking himself whether or not 
the formula (15 minutes a week to track 
down the villain and triumph over evil) is 
wearing thin. 60 Minutes would be well 
served by doing some experimentation— 
and so would Wallace. 

Do you really want to do yourself a favor 
this fall? Tum off the TV for a while and 
read a new book called Inside Prime Time, 
by Todd Gitlin. It’s a fascinating study of 
why what we watch on television has so lit- 
tle to do with the world we know. One оГ 
the best things I can say for television is 
that its shortcomings inspired this book. 


` x COMING ATTRACTIONS >< 


By JOHN BLUMENTHAL 


IDOL GOSSIP: Maureen Stapleton and NBC-T V's 
Saturday Night Liver Joe Piscopo have been 
signed to join Michael Keaton in 20th Cen- 
tury-Foxs spoof of Thirties gangster 
movies, Johnny Dangerously. Stapleton is set 
to play a character named Mom Kelly, 
while Piscopo will portray the Keaton char- 
acter's archrival, Danny Vermin. . . . Michael 
Douglas and Kathleen Turner will top-line 
Romancing the Stone, a romantic comedy- 
adventure about a successful authoress of 
adventure novels who suddenly finds herself 
thrust into a real-life romantic adventure іп 
South America. . . . Blake Edwards will direct 
Richard Pryor and Burt Reynolds in The Music 
Вох, a film inspired Бу a Laurel and Hardy 
short that won an Oscar in 1932. Edwards is 
also set to write the screenplay. Jason 


Robards will play the title role in НВО% 
Sakharov, a made-for-cable biopic of the dis- 
sident Soviet physicist. Also on HBO's 
shooting schedule are Draw!, a Western 


Stapleton 


Piscopo 


starring Kirk Douglas and James Cobum, and 
To Catch a King, a World War Two spy 
thriller with Teri Garr and Robert Wagner. . . . 
Robin Williams will play a Russian saxophon- 
ist in Paul Mazursky's Moscow on the Hudson. 
More on this one as events develop. . . . Fran- 
cis Ford Coppola will direct The Cotton Club, 
the story of the famous Harlem night spot, 
set in the Twenties. The flick will star 
Richard Gere and Gregory Hines. . . . After 
several years of false casting announce- 
ments, The Pope of Greenwich Village, based 
оп the best seller by Vincent Patrick, will go 
before the cameras with Eric Roberts in the 
lead role. . . . Dan Aykroyd will star in Empire 
Man, the tale of a Texas evangelist who 
runs for political office. 
б 

А WILD AND CRAZY LONER: Bruce Jay Friedman's 
Seventies guide The Lonely Guys Bock of Life 
is being brought to the big screen, retitled 
The Lonely Guy and starring Steve Martin, 
Charles Grodin, Robyn Deuglass, Judith (Hany 
© Son) Ivey and Steve Lawrence. Martin 
plays Larry Hubbard, a struggling young 
New York writer who one day finds his Нуе- 
in girlfriend (Douglass) in bed with another 
man. Crushed, he moves out of the apart- 
ment but soon finds himself somewhat inept 
at dealing with his new status. Along comes 
veteran loner Grodin, who takes Martin 


under his wing and instructs him іп the 
nuances of doing things solo. To make mat- 
ters even more depressing, each time Mar- 
tin feels especially low, he seems to bump 
into his pal Jack (Lawrence), a suave, suc- 
cessful man about town who always has at 
least two beautiful women on his arms. 


Eventually, however, things start looking 
up—our hero writes a book for lonely guys 
that becomes an instant best seller and, 
natch, falls in love. The Lonely Guy is pro- 
duced and directed by Arthur Hiller. The 


script—and this parts a little odd— was 
written by Taxi alumni Ed Weinberger and 
Stan Doniels, from an adaptation by Neil 
Simon. What that seems to imply is that 
Simon wrote a first draft that was rewritten 
һу Weinberger and Daniels. 

. 


GROWING ur: Paramount's Racing with the 
Moon, starring Sean Penn, Elizabeth McGov- 
em and Nicolas (Rumble Fish) Cage, is a 
rite-of-passage film set against the back- 
drop of World War Two. Taking place 
over a six-week period in the winter of 
1942 in a small coastal town in Northern 
California, the loosely plotted film involves 
the love and friendship experienced by 
three young people just before the conflict 
of war manages to intrude upon and alter 
their lives. Penn and Cage play two close 
buddies, Hopper and Nicky, both of whom 
are awaiting entry into the Marine Corps. 


They've got six short weeks of civilian life 
left and, to borrow from the title, they’re 
racing with the moon to cram as much 
adventure as they can into that short 
period. The adventure includes, of course, 
a passionate love affair between Penn and 
McGovern. All this takes place against the 
familiar war background of air-raid drills, 
dim-outs, scrap drives, U.S.O. dances 


and gas and food rationing. Racing with 
the Moon (as mentioned here previously, 
Sherry Lansing‘ first production since leav- 
ing Fox) is directed by Richard Benjamin. 

. 

YULETIDE WRAP-UP: Coming to your local 
Bijou this Christmas are the following 
offerings by the major studios. Columbia 
will release The Dresser, The Man Who 
Loved Women, starring Burt Reynolds and 
Julie Andrews, and Christine, based on the 
best seller by Stephen King. MGM/UA has 
A Christmas Story, Sahara, starring Brooke 
Shields, and Barbra Streisand's Yentl; Gorky 
Park, top-lining William Hurt, and Paul New- 
man's Harry ES Son fill out Orion’s roster; 
Paramount presents Uncommon Valor, 


with Gene Hackman, Terms of Endearment, 
with Shirley Madaine and Debra Winger, and 
The Keep, with Scatt Glen and Jürgen Proch- 
now; the John Travolta/Olivia Newton-John 
starrer Two of a Kind, Mel Brooks's Tu Be or 
Nol to Be апа Silkwood, featuring Meryl 
Streep, constitute 20th Century-Fox's pro- 


А 


Newton-John 


Travolta 


gram; Universal will feature The Lonely 
Guy and Al Pacina in Scarface. And last but 
not least is Warner Bros., with the Clint 
Eastwood release Sudden Impact, Greystoke: 
The Legend of Tarzan, Lord of the Apes and 
Once upon а Time in America, featuring 
Robert De Niro and Treat Williams. Lots of 
tinsel from Tinseltown. 
б 
PIRATES FROM OUTER SPACE: Іп the hallowed 
tradition of Krull comes MGM/UA's Ice 
Pirates, a science-fiction-fantasy film in- 
volving space buccaneers in search of a 
water planet. Robert Urich plays Jason, the 
pirate leader who swashbuckles his way 
through time and space in search of a 
mythical seventh planet Long ago, 
apparently, a galactic war destroyed six 
water planets, leaving a seventh that 
seems to have disappeared. It's called the 
Seventh World and is said to have lakes 
and streams and rain. /се Pirates, set for a 
1984 release, co-stars—are you ready for 
this?—John Matuszak as Killjoy, a thief 
who aids the good pirates, Anjelica Huston 
as Maida, a pirate lady, John Carradine as 
the Knight Templar and Могу Crosby as the 
Princess Karina, daughter of the famed 
Count Vasco of Argon. 


41 


Ехрегїепсе 
„the Camel taste in 
Camel Filters. 


En 


\ 
Vx 
15 mg. "tar", 1.0 mg. nicotine av. per cigarette, FTC Report MAR. 83. 


Warning: The Surgeon General Has Determined 


That Cigarette Smoking Is Dangerous to Your Health. 


Ву ASA BABER 


ıı was 90 degrees in the shade. I took 
advantage of Chicago's first truly hot 
weekend of the summer of '83 by going to. 
Oak Street Beach, one of my favorite 
hangouts. 

On the dog days, that beach is always 
packed with people, a cross section of the 
city's population that would make a poll- 
ster proud: high school kids with radios 
blaring; construction workers hiding beer 
cans in brown-paper bags; airline steward- 
esses; bodybuilders; couples and singles, 
young and middle-aged, people from all 
classes and races and neighborhoods. 
What you have on that curve of shore line 
that hugs Lake Shore Drive 1s a combina- 
tion suntan parlor, discothéque, joggi 
track, Frisbee headquarters, dating serv- 
ice, hot-dog stand and swimming hole. 

1 got there about noon. 

For most of us men, picking a spot on a 
beach is a weighty decision. We want sun, 
yes, but we also want a view, that special 
piece of beach that will give a feast to our 
eyes and a thump to our hearts. A male en- 
tering a crowded beach makes more cal- 
culations per second than a computer on a 
space shuttle, 

I saw a circle of sand halfway between 
the steps and the lake. At the top of the cir- 
cle, 12 o'clock high, there was a Peugeot 
ten-speed bike lying on its side, a water 
bottle, a pair of jogging shoes and a per- 
son. For a moment, I could not tell 
whether it was a man or a woman. 

Peter Pan, I thought. That was what she 
reminded me of. She was lying on her 
stomach, no halter top, carrot-colored hair 
that was close to punk, slim, a dancer’s 
body, freckles, purple bikini bottom, 
elbows propped so that I could see her 
breasts if I looked, which I did for a mo- 
ment. No, I'm not sorry that I did and, no, 
I don't think Pm an суй, sexist pig be- 
cause I did. She had small, attractive 
breasts, by the way. 

So there was this elf, this pixy, this imp, 
and I did not want to bother her. I spread 
out my blanket and put on my tanning lo- 
tion and sat. The beach is a haven for me, 
and I treat it as such. 

I turned her way as she flipped over 
onto her back. She didn’t put on her halter 
top. No, sir. She simply turned over in the 
sun. It was a simple, beautiful act, and 1 
admit that I stared at her for a second— 
stared at her simple, beautiful presence. 
“Far out,” I laughed to myself. 

Those of you reading this on the French 
Riviera or in the West Indies or certain 
neighborhoods in California or Hawaii 
may not immediately relate to the drama 
here, because you've worked this problem 
out. But Chicago is not Middle America 
for nothing, and topless bathing is not the 
order of the day in this city. 


жы. 


THE LIBERATION OF 
OAK STREET BEACH 


“She didn't put on her halter 
top. No, sir. She simply turned 
over in the sun. It was a simple, 
beautiful act.” 


I was more interested in the reactions 
of the people on the beach than I was in 
eycballing Peter Pan. The story was out 
there: How were people handling this act 
of liberation? 

The guys did finc. There was some quiet 
laughter at first, some gesturing and nudg- 
ing, but it was good-natured, not mean, 
and none of them tried to embarrass her. 
"There was no male who sauntered over 
and hassled her, no macho man who de- 
cided that she had to be signaling him. 
The males on Oak Street Beach, including 
the lifeguards in the stands and the police 
cruising by, made no fuss at all. They 
didn't even stare. “Let it be” was the opin- 
ion among the men. 

But three blonde women lying due east, 
attractive, in their mid-30s, didn't handle 
the situation so well. Two of them had 
been lying topless on their stomachs, but. 
when their partner, who was watching 
Peter Pan with hostile eyes, poked them 
and muttered something, they acted as if 
they'd seen a tidal wave coming. They 
went through that contortionist's act of re- 
tying bikini tops while lying face down: 
backs bowed, necks straining, fingers 
fumbling with the strings, awkwardness in 
the service of supposed modesty. As soon 


as the three of them faced me, the chal- 
lenge was obvious. “Why, have you ever? 
No, I never,” was the signal. They pointed 
several times; their eyes met mine: 
you just going to sit there and enjoy the 
view?” was the subtext in their angry looks 
across the sand at me. Yep. 

Peter Pan seemed oblivious. She had 
headphones on. Her eyes were closed. А 
slim spirit in the sun, she wasn’t flaunting 
anything. She was sun-bathing in the same 
amount of clothes I had on—that's all! 
Eventually, after she had put on her halter 
top and had gone down to the lake for a 
swim and come back, we began to talk. 

"Congratulations on trying to liberate 
Oak Street Beach,” I laughed. 

She laughed, too. "From a distance, 
they can’t tell if Pm a boy or a girl,” she 
said. “That's why I can get away with it” 

She took off her top again, lay down fac- 
ing me and we had a long talk across a 
short distance. She was 22 ycars old. She'd 
spent a lot of time in California. She'd got- 
ten in with a bad crowd, done too much 
cocaine, lost her way. But life, as is its 
habit, straightened her out. Her mother 
became fatally ill and Peter Pan returned 
to Chicago. 

"My mom and I didn't get along for 
years,” she said. “She got mad at me and 
told my dad she never wanted me in the 
house again. But we made up this year. 1 
came back and nursed her. We got to talk 
for hours. It was really important to mc. 
And to her. She died this week.” 

I said I was sorry. “Тһе spookiest 
thing,” Peter Pan said, “is that now 1 
think I have cancer, just like she did. I 
mean, I don't have cancer, but I imagine 
I do, I dream I do.” 

I talked about the death of my father 
when I was in my early 20s, “Believe me,” 
I said, "you're not alone. It's normal as 
hell to think you'll dic the way your par- 
ents did. Especially the parent of the same 
sex. We identify: fathers and sons, mothers 
and daughters." 

As we talked, it occurred to me that 
someone might formally complain about 
Peter Pan and there could be trouble, 
but that set me thinking: Why can't wom- 
en be bare-breasted if they choose? What 
are the assumptions behind the laws that 
prohibit it, and why are those who are so 
easily offended by the human body the 
ones who write our laws? 

We talked for a couple of hours. The 
folks on the beach went back to their doz- 
ing and reading and chatting. The three 
blonde women departed in a huff. 

I left Peter Pan in the late afternoon, 
thinking that she was a wonderful imp, a 
sprightly, rebellious, lively character who 
was going to bounce back from her 
mother’s death with a flair. I also thought 
I had proof once again that most people 
are far ahead of the laws that bind them. 
Peter Pan knew that. 

Here's looking at you, elf. E 


43 


Ву СҮМТНІА HEIMEL 


“ICEDTEA, quick,” said Cleo to the waitress 
as she collapsed into a chair. “Here you 
go, doll,” she said, handing me a bouquet 
of flowers. “Happy birthday!” 

It was my birthday and we were having 
a girls’ birthday lunch, but I had ulterior 
motives. The other day, I met a man at a 
party who said, “The one thing that every 
man wants to do is to be a fly on the wall in 
the powder room, or at a ladies' lunch, 
when the women talk about us. What do 
you really say about men when you let 
your hair down?" 

So this birthday lunch seemed the рег- 
fect opportunity to spy for you guys and let 
you know the truth. I resolved to perk my 
ears for juicy tidbits. 

“Гуе gotta perfect my serve,” Cleo 
panted. “I got creamed at tennis this 
morning. Jesus.” 

“You were probably preoccupied with 
men or something,” I said, fishing, 

“Men?” she wondered. 

“Double-tequila bloody mary, straight 
up,” said Rita upon her entrance. She 
tossed me a P. G. Wodehouse book. 

“Gee, thanks,” I chirped. “Cleo and I 
were just talking about men—weren't we, 
Cleo?” 

“Sure,” said Cleo. 

“Men, huh?” said Rita, looking dis- 
tracted. I waited hopefully. 

“I could kill 'em;" she said finally. 

“Men?” 

“Men? Nah. Agents. Slimy scum bags, 
the lot of them. How is a girl supposed to 
finish a book proposal, a movie treatment 
and a sitcom pilot all at the same time?” 

“Tell me about it,” said Marta as she 
sat down. “Гуе got my entire fall line to do 
in the next two weeks. I'm up to my eyes.” 

“Had any good sex lately?” I asked after 
thanking her for a pair of pretty earrings. 

“Sex,” mused Marta. “Isn’t that where 
you and a man take off your clothes and he 
puts his penis inside you and moves it 
around a lot?” 

“Гуе heard tell of such goings on,” said 
Rita casually. “But, seriously, what am 1 
going to do? I’m heading for a nervous 
breakdown. I haven’t done my laundry іп 
three weeks.” 

They went on in such a vein—agents, 
laundry, hemlines, tennis elbow and, of all 
things, accountants—until I called them 
to order. 

“Men!” I screamed in no uncertain 
terms. “It’s my birthday and I want to talk 
about men.” 

“It's that column she writes,” said Rita, 
now on her third tequila bloody mary. 

“Addled what litte brain she once 
had,” Cleo decided. 

“Men,” said Marta. “You know what 1 
wish? I wish they wouldn't leave those aw- 
ful little hairs in the sink. Would it be о 
hard for them to swab out the sink when 
they’re finished shaving?” 


bu 


LADIES LUNCH 


““Тһе one thing that every man 
wants to do is to be a fly on the 
wall in the powder room. . . . What 
do you really say about men... ?' " 


“And will they never learn 10 put the 
cap back on the tooth paste?" asked Cleo. 

"Of course they won't,” said Rita. 
“Leaving the cap off the tooth paste is a 
secondary sex characteristic. What I sim- 
ply cannot understand is why they persist 
in leaving wet towels in a heap on the 
bathroom floor, where they get all mil- 
dewed and horrible and make your house 
smell like ап old washcloth.” 

“That's if they don't leave the wet 
towels on the bed,” said Marta, “along 
with their balled-up socks." 

“That's it?" I cried, aghast. “Balled-up 
Socks? Wet towels? Tooth-paste caps, for- 
sooth! What arc we, housekeepers? What 
about love? What about sex? What about 
the anguish and the ecstasy of romance?” 

“Definitely dropped on her head as an 
infant,” said Cleo sadly. 

“Listen, hon,” said Rita, “I know what 
you’re getting at, and І don’t want to play. 
E just simply cannot bring myself to dis- 
cuss in depth the wonderful man I met at 
the screening the other day—what I said 
to him, what he said to me, what I wish I 
had said to him, whether or not I should 
date him, whether I should sleep with him, 
whether he'll be a good fuck, whether he'll. 
break my heart. . . .” 

“Did you meet a wonderful man at a 
screening the other day?” I asked. 

“Yes, I did. But I have absolutely 
nothing to say about the event, I am sick, 
sick, sick of talking about men. If all the 
time I spent talking about men were 
placed end to end, I could have raised a 
child and gotten myself а law degree in- 
stead.” 


“Absolutely right,” said Marta. “As far 
as time wasters go, nothing beats worrying 
about men. Here we are modern women. 
We're autonomous, independent and crea- 
tive. And I, for one, don’t have time to Не 
around twiddling my clitoris and wonder- 
ing whether or not he'll call me.” 

Cleo giggled. “Remember Marta during 
her Roger period?” she asked. “Remem- 
ber, Marta, how you went on a carrot- 
juice-and-mackerel diet and ran ten miles 
a day, because Roger said he liked women 
with supple thighs?” 

“Oh, God, yes,” said Marta. “But that 
was nothing, Cleo, compared with you 
when you were in the throes with James. 1 
seem to remember $1000 a month spent in 
air fare, a certain $200 silk negligee, not to 
mention those suicidal phone calls at four 
Ам. because he had pulled one of his 
famous disappearing acts.” 

“And then, of course, there was Rita 
here,” said Cleo, “always in love with two 
men at once, always petrified that one of 
them would leave her. Rushing from lie to 
lie and apartment to apartment and heart- 
break to heartbreak with the dizzying 
speed of a spastic colon.” 

“And what about our columnist here 
and her New Zealander?” Rita challenged. 
“She suddenly became a compendium of 
knowledge about Maoris and kiwi birds 
and sheep dipping. Sheep dipping!” 

“An extremely crucial process,” I said 
primly. 

“God, we were such victims then,” said 
Marta. 

"You'd almost think wc enjoyed it,” 
said Cleo. 

“Thank God we’re cured,” said Rita. 
“Thank God I don’t have to go into ехсги- 
ciating detail about the man at the 
screening.” 

“Oh, go ahead, Rita, what the hell. For 
old times’ sake.” 

“Well, since you put it like that,” said 
Rita. “He was tall, with such gorgeous 
blue eyes, and he walked up to me and 
said...” 

Hey, what the hell. We're only human. 


45 


“That night 
| was listening to 
the bass player cook. 


As his hands went 

spidering up and down 

ihe strings 

Ж Se his thum-thum-thum 
became the groups 


heartbeat — and mine too. 
In my living room, | had 


{ traveled once again to that 

4 mn smokey little jazz club long ago” 
ш ‹ AJVC High Fidelity System 
ns can take you to another 
А fime and place, with components 
l that reduce sx different 
kinds of distortion down to inaudible. 

N Nothing interferes with the 
reality of your music. Youre there. 

We take youthere. 


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JVC COMPANY OF AMERICA, High Fidelity Division, 41 Slater Drive, Elmwood Park, NJ 07407 JVC CANADA INC. Scarborough. Ont 


THE PLAYBOY ADVISOR 


WI, girlfriend recently had the occasion 
to go to bed with a former lover, which 
confirmed her memory that regular old 
missionary-style intercourse with him 
gives her a rapid and effortless orgasm. 
She always has an orgasm when we make 
love, but we have to work much harder at 
it and she feels incompletely satisfied. She 
misses the effortless experience that she 
gets with him. Emotion does not seem to 
be at issue here, since she says the psycho- 
logical part of lovemaking is great with me 
and marginal with him. Fingers do not 
seem to help. Our best hypothesis is that 
my relative slimness means I have no 
flabby abdomen to jiggle against her sensi- 
tive parts. Do you have any less drastic 
suggestions, or will I һауе to get fat for her 
to get happy?— L. S., St. Louis, Missouri. 
We think that more is going on here than a 
difference in sexual styles. Female orgasm is 
the criterion by which we measure the success 
of the sexual act (see "The Playboy Readers" 
Sex Survey, Part Five," pLayuoy, October). 
In “For Each Other,” sex therapist Lonnie 
Barbach describes some of the factors that can 
affect a woman's orgasmic potential: "Some 
women find that withholding their orgasm is 
a way to protect themselves from becoming too. 
intimate too quickly. To prevent the emotional 
relationship with our partner from deepening 
100 rapidly, we may hold back sexually. In 
doing so, we create an emotional distance that 
offsets the sexual intimacy, . . . If we give 
ourselves sexually lo reward our partner, we 
may withhold sexually when we are not get- 
ting what we want. Most women tend to do 
this either by not feeling turned on or by not 
having orgasms. Withholding our own sex- 
ual enjoyment, rather than refraining from 
sexual participation altogether, may occur be- 
cause we have been indoctrinated with the be- 
lief that a man's sexual rights are inviolable. 
Or we may fear that if we withhold sex com- 
pletely, our partner will find his sexual satis- 
faction outside the relationship. Withholding 
our enjoyment and pleasure gets the point 
across, it эрий» our partner's enjoyment of the 
sexual experience, and often makes our part- 
ner feel inadequate at the same time.” Sound 
familiar? We suggest a good heart to heart. 
Obviously, your girlfriend is not completely at 
ease with your relationship (otherwise, why 
would she have gone back for more with her 
former flame?). As for her contention that 
having an orgasm with you is too much 
work—isn't getting there half the fun? 


vc heard that camera film can be dam- 
aged by going through airport X-ray 
machines. Can you tell me the bestway to 
protect the film so that the X rays can't get 
at it?—L. B., Butte, Montana. 

Ordinary film is not subject to fogging or 
damage when it is X-rayed by machines іп 
domestic airports, though high-speed films 


such as ASA 400 can develop fogging after 
repeated exposure to airport X rays. However, 
the new high-speed color film, designated 
ASA 1000, can be ruined after a brief en- 
counter with security machines. The FAA has 
recommended that passengers carrying such 
film remove it from their carry-on luggage 
before it is placed on the X-ray conveyor. It 
emphasizes that that is necessary for only the 
high-speed film, so if you're not into photo- 
graphing bullets in flight at midnight, you 
needn't worry. 


MAU right. 1 was looking through a back 
issue of rLAvbo (September 1982) and saw 
an Advisor answer that gave figures for the 
average length of the penises of white col- 
lege males (or at least the white college 
males who were interviewed by Kinsey). 
Everyone knows that girth is what it's 
worth. How about figures for circumfer- 
ence?—D. S., Seattle, Washington. 

The Alfred С. Kinsey Institute for Sex Ке- 
search reviewed its data from the Forties and 
found that those same white college male 
when asked to measure the maximum cir 
cumference of their erect penises, found the 
following: .3 percent checked in al 1.5 
inches, 4 percent al 1.75 inches, 4 percent al 
2 inches, .2 percent at 2.25 inches, 3 percent 
al 2.5 inches, .3 percent at 2.75 inches, 4 
percent at 3 inches, 4 percent at 3.25 
inches, .9 percent at 3.5 inches, 1.1 percent 
at 3.75 inches, 6.3 perceni al 4 inches, 6.3 
percent at 4.25 inches. The bulk of the re- 
sponses were in the next few categories: 17.1 
percent measured 4.5 inches; 11.7 percent, 
4.75 inches; 24.1 percent, 5 inches; 9.9 per- 
cent, 5.25 inches; 11.5 percent, 5.5 inches 
There were а few fire hydrants tossed in: 
3 percent al 5.75 inches, 3.9 percent at 6 
inches, .5 percent at 6.25 inches, .5 percent at 
6.5 inches and .1 percent at 6.75 inches. If 


you believe these figures (respondents pulled. 
out their rulers in private), now what? 
Do you guys realize how hard it is to type that 
many numbers? It's all right if you have а 
home computer and nothing better to do with 
an evening, but really now. . . . That's it for 
statistics. 


M purchased a prerecorded audio cassette 
that had the usual disclaimer that the extra 
tape on one side was necessary to preserve 
the “sequence of the album.” Well, that ex- 
tra tape amounted to about two minutes of 
dead silence! Since I have an auto-reverse 
deck, I was obliged to listen to it or get up 
and fast-forward to the end, With the re- 
versing operation and the leader tape on 
the other side, it was days before I heard 
music again. Isn’t there a better way to 
make tapes?—M. G., Pittsburgh, Pennsyl- 
vania. 

Wecan understand your consternation. De- 
pending on what you're doing, not having а 
sound track for two minutes can blow your 
rhythm altogether. If you're waiting for the 
tape producers to make a change, though, bet- 
ler pack a big lunch. Dises are still the fa- 
vorile son and tapes the stepchild in the 
recording business. But there's no reason you 
can't do something at home. Remember that 
you can tape as well as play back on. prere- 
corded саззеЦез if you cover the anti-erasure 
holes at the top of the cassette with a couple of 
strips of adhesive tape. Simply time the blank 
space with a stop watch, find something in 
your disc library that’s compatible with the 
music or the mood on the tape and lay it in. The 
same solution also works for getting rid of an 
unwanted selection on a prerecorded tape— 
since there is usually one clunker on every 
album. As for the time you spend wailing for 
the machine to reverse, we suggest that you 
keep a harmonica at the bedside. 


[гт dating a beautiful woman, 28 years 
old and with two lovely children, (I’m 26 
years old.) Were both divorced and both 
date other people. I've known her for 
about one year, and we have grown very 
close. Before we met each other, she was 
seeing another man who has since gotten 
married. And—ah, yes—they are still 
secing each other. Now, every time were 
together, | hear all about the problems 
they are having. Most of the time, she 
agrees with me that their relationship isn’t 
worth the short-term benefits, but the next 
time he calls, it’s open arms again. I’ve ex- 
pressed my feclings of sincere concern and 
care for her and on one occasion told her I 
was in love with her. Her response was 
that she couldn't deal with her married 
lover; therefore, she was unable to love 
another until that situation was resolved. 
What's a guy to do? We continue to go out 


47 


“ТИ proof 
sounds 


PLAYBOY 


Pro-Football Hall of Famer 


Kentucky Straight Bourbon Whiskey, 114 Prool. 
Old Grand Dad Oishllers Со. Frankfort, KY 
© 1983 National Ostilers. 


and I do enjoy being with her, but I don't 
want our friendship simply based on my 
being her big brother to cry to. By the way, 
a great deal of our conversation about the 
two of them deals with their sexual en- 
counters. She and I have never had sex 
together, and it’s really hard hearing about 
their problems when we've never experi- 
enced each other. I'm really crazy about 
her, but this can't go on.—B. M., Green- 
ville, South Carolina. 

As you've already summed up, it appears 
that this woman is using you as a confidant 
and a big brother, with no intention of letting 
the relationship develop further. Since you've 
already expressed your feelings to her, you 
really have no choice but to ease out of her life 
until (or unless) she realizes how important 
you are to her. Get on with your own life. 


Were been having a debate at the frat 
house about the coming nuclear holocaust. 
One of the guys keeps talking about 
E.M.P. I don’t want to sound misin- 
formed, so Гус never asked him what it 
means. Can you tell me?—]. R., San Fran- 
cisco, California. 

Its a drug we took at the last Grateful 
Dead concert. No? Your friend is talking 
about a little-known side effect of thermonu- 
clear war. It seems that when a nuclear device 
is exploded in the atmosphere at an altitude of 
50 to 75 miles, an intense burst of electro- 
magnetic energy (the electromagnetic pulse) 
bathes an entire continent al the speed of 
light. Experts say the pulse could go as high 
as 100,000 volts. Anything built on solid- 
state circuitry would melt down. According to 
one expert, “In a worst-case scenario, the 
powerful surge of E.M.P. would trip circuit 
breakers throughout the nation’s network of 
power lines, silence telephone lines, loboto- 
mize compuler memory banks and throw the 
Armed Forces into disaray. Civilian and 
military planes alike, their solid-state controls 
and radios knocked ош, would attempt— 
perhaps successfully—to make emergency 
landings. Most of the military would be out of 
electricity and, thus, out of aclion.” 

However, there is a silver lining to the 
mushroom cloud. Since the E.M.P. would 
lobolomize computer memory banks, your 
local retailer would be unable to check your 
credit-card limit with the master computer. 
Which means that, facing the end of the 
world, we have a choice: Do we fuck or do 
we shop? 


Whar is the most tactful way to tell your 
lover you'd like him to engage in oral sex? 
We both enjoy the acts of giving and re- 
ceiving, but sometimes I’d like him to do 
the giving at a more opportune time. I 
don’t think telling him to eat me would do 
the trick. Any suggestions?—Miss P. G., 
Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. 

A great deal depends on how comfortable 
you are with your partner and how easily you 
can communicate your wants and needs to 
him. As crass as it may sound, “Eat me” is 
simple, direct and can turn on a man enough 


lo gel the desired results, especially if you are 
armed al the time, You may prefer something 
more subtle but no less honest, such as “It 
would drive me wild if you went down on me 
right now.” You can also try maneuvering 
yourself during foreplay so that your desire is 
rather obvious. If all else fails, a conversation 
or two outside the bedroom about preferences 
may allow you to drop a number of hints 
about when you find oral sex most stimulat- 
ing. If your lover is paying attention and has 
any kind of memory, he'll remember. In the 
meantime, however, you have nothing to gain 
by Keeping your wants and needs a secret. 


В think it would be a good idea if you 
started a column for your readers to write 
letters explaining the special things that 
we do with our lovers to make our lives 
more exciting. The letters wouldn't have 
to deal with sex or be as elaborate as some 
I have read but could be about anything 
that life presents us with. We all know that 
we are not going to be able to think of ev- 
erything by ourselves. To show you exactly 
what I mean, I would like to be the first 
one to offer an idea. My suggestion just 
happens to deal with sex. 

Have you ever taken a shower with an 
exciting person in the dark? I have found 
that the proper music, wine and lack of 
lighting in the shower are an absolute 
turn-on. Sometimes, depending on how 
you feel, very slight lighting is much bet- 
ter. Moonlight, for example, presents just 
the right amount of shadows and glimpses 
to excite me to the point of no return. If 
you necd someone to handle this new de- 
partment for you. . . .—B. W., New York, 
New York. 

Thanks. We'll keep your letter on file. As 
Jor your suggestion, ше found it worked won- 
ders. Our daie wasn't turned off by the ring 
around the bathtub, and we had а meaning- 
Jul encounter with the shower curtain. 


Bst when I had Icarncd to appreciate a 
turbocharger, 1 began hearing about 
something called an intercooler that sup- 
posedly made a turbo work better. 
Apparently, they're going to be included 
on some new models. What is an intercool- 
er?—S. Y., Indianapolis, Indiana. 

One thing it's not is new. It’s just that, in 
order to gel one, you've needed an oil- 
company sponsor and а! least seven patches 
on your jacket. What an intercooler does is 
cool the air that's been compressed by the tur- 
bocharger before it goes to the engine intake. 
Cooled air, you see, gives you more efficient 
combustion, which means more power. The 
race-bred radiators have been tamed for the 
street, und you can expect to see a lot more of 
them, even though their oumers wear nothing 
more exotic than Harris tweed. 


Ive been reading a lot about AIDS, but 
nothing seems to answer my biggest ques- 
tion: As a 27-year-old heterosexual man 


d 


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who is sexually active, am Lin any dangei 
If I am, what are the symptoms and are 
there any precautions | should be tak- 
ing?—S. A., Albuqu New Mexico. 
Good news: Nine out of ten doctors agree 
that the most contagious thing about AIDS- 
acquired-immune-deficiency — syndrome— 
these days is panic over catching il. So far, 
AIDS has been limited largely to clearly 
identifiable groups: sexually active. gay or 
bisexual men, I.V.-drug users, Haitians and 
hemophiliacs. Only six percent of the cases 
have occurred outside these groups, in people 
with no known risk factor. While there's good 
evidence that AIDS is sexually transmitted, 
we don't know what causes it and have no 
clear evidence that you can gel it from one 
contact. In fact, doctors have termed И “one 
of the least contagious” of contagious dis- 
eases. Symptoms include chronic swollen 
glands, unexplained weight loss, fevers or 
night sweats, persistent diarrhea or cough, 
extreme tiredness or a pattern of chronic in: 
fections. Some AIDS patients develop dark- 
purple spots, usually painless, on the skin or 
inside the mouth or the rectum. Thats what 
the experts agree on; when il comes lo precau 
tions, they start at the ridiculous and go from 
there. Some doctors have nixed all sex that ın 
cludes “exchanging bodily fluids” (General 
Jack D. Ripper, where are you?). But be 
cause that covers most of the bases—or at 
least the most interesting ones—other sugges- 
lions seem more reasonable: Avoid partners 
who have any of the above symptoms, tak 
LV. drugs or have open cuts or skin 
In general, the heavier the sex, the higher the 
risk. Anilingus is probably riskier than cun- 
nilingus. Avoid sex that might lead to cuts; in 
anal intercourse, use adequate lubrication. 
Some doctors suggest condoms. Others nole 
that the more partners you have, the higher 
your risk for all sexually transmitted diseases. 
Their theory boils down to a numbers game 
You don’t buy a bushel of tickets for a lottery 
you don’t want to win (for that they went lo 
med school?). The best doctors are saying 
what every Jewish mother worth her matzohs 
has told us for years: Take care of your over- 
all health, diet and stress level and you reduce 
your risk of disease. Reduce recreational drug 
use—especially of injectables—during s 
It's no surprise that experts are recommend. 
ing that you gel to know your partners, their 
health and their sexual preferences befor 
hand—but then, you don't need a degree in 
medicine to know that better communication 
always makes for better sex. The moral? If 
you're a heterosexual man in good health and 
don't use LV. drugs, the biggest thing you 
have to fear from AIDS is fear itself. 


== ыш с е 

All reasonable questions—from fashion, 
food and drink, stereo and sporis cars lo dating 
problems, taste and etiquette—uill be personal- 
ly answered if the writer includes a stamped, 
self-addressed envelope. Send all letters to The 
Playboy Advisor, Playboy Building, 919 N. 
Michigan Avenue, Chicago, Illinois 60611. 
The most provocative, pertinent queries 
will be presented on these pages each month. 


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DEAR PLAYMATES 


O.. question that seems to pop up reg- 
ularly in the Dear Playmates mailbag i 
about anger. Our readers want to know if 
there are some things most men do that 
irritate women, And guess what? There 
are. 

The question for the month: 


Is there anything about the way men 
in general behave toward women that 
makes you see red? 


АМ f lets ouo 
going well and we're having a good con- 
ve п and it seems like an attraction is 
developing but 
nothing very 
personal has 
happened be- 
tween us, it 
annoys me 
when all of a 
sudden he's 
touching me. 1 
don't like pub- 
lic affection. By. 
that, I don't 
mean putting 
an arm around 
me; | mean a lot of kissing that makes it 
seem like we're very involved. 1 would 
rather have a sincere relationship develop 
before I would let that other kind of affec- 
tion be scen in public. 


Hoan. 


MARLENE JANSSEN 
NOVEMBER 1982 


“The thing that bugs me the most is when 
a man assumes he knows what kind of per- 
son І am with- 
out bothering 
to get to know 
me at all. A 
man will make 
the assump- 
Чоп, based on 
how I look or 


connection, 
that [ am easy 
to get a date 
with, casy to 
get in bed with 
or just that I am very available. I don't 
like those kinds of quick assumptions. I 
think а man should get to know a girl be- 
fore he jumps to a lot of conclusions. That 
kind of thing bothers тє a lot. 


бла Mithora 


LORRAINE MICHA 
APRIL 1981 


Кр! 
when a man I don't know just assumes Га 
love 10 be with him. I was at a spa one 
nen epe tet nmt emo: 
into the whirl- 
Ese eh htm 
Г said, “No, 
thanks.” He 
asked if he 
could see my 
left hand (1 do 
wear a band). 
їйїр (ie cem 
“Oh, I see 
why.” And I 
said, “That 
wouldn’t make 
any difference.” 
He assumed that if I didn't have the ring 
on, I would get right into the whirlpool 
with him. When 1 said that ring or no ring, 
ШЗ wasn’t interested, the look on his 
face was amazing, as if his ego had been 
E EEE U atten n 
man looks at my boobs when he’s talking 
to me, That's very obnoxious. 


ШЕП Coma 


DENISE MCCONNELL 
MARCH 1979 


Mes don't believe that women know 
they're talking about, especially if the 
subject is in the realm of things that 
women aren't supposed to know about, 
such as sporis, fixing a car, fishing—you 
know, a man’s 
world. Any- 
thing that has a 
macho image. 1 
was a tomboy 
when I was 
growing up 
Im good at 
sports. I can fix 
a car. I know 
things that 
women aren't 
expected to 
know. I hate it 
when men won't allow us that. Women. 
can be as intelligent as we appear. ТІ 
kind of condescension really irks me. 
1 know how to do a lot of things m; 
am looking for a man who can t 
something—but also for a man who 
appreciates what / know. 


hp уен 


AZIZI JOHARI 
JUNE 1975 


О: thing comes to mind right away. If 
I'm alone in a public place—like а res- 
taurant or cocktail lounge—men assume 
I'm looking for company. Occasionally, I 
am looking for 
someone to talk 
to, but I like to 
go out to dinner 
and enjoy ту 
own company, 
too, without be- 
ing approached 
by men who 
think I'm there 
to be picked up. 
If I say, “No, 
no one is meet- 
ing me,” they 
think I'm fair game. Ifa woman is alone, it 
doesn't mean she's lonely. Sometimes it 
just means she wants to be alone and have 
some time by herself; That kind of thing 
bugs me more than anything else. 


REIN 


SUSIE SCOTT 
MAY 1983 


Men are never satisfied. They can be 
engaged or married to a Playmate or even 
опа] sex symbol like Raquel 
Welch, and 
they will still be 
on the quest. 


They will still 
be cycballing 
girls on the 


street. They 
never seem to 
come to the 
point where 
they're satis- 
fied with the 
commitment 
they've made. 
The little wheels still turn in their heads— 
you know, that old “the grass is always 
gres business. They arc continually 
ready to conquer, and even if they don't 
actually do anything, they're still thinking 
about it all the time. 


о ета 


САТНҮ LARMOUTH 
JUNE 1981 


Send your questions to Dear Playmates, 
Playboy Building, 919 North Michigan 
Avenue, Chicago, Illinois 60611. We won't be 
able to answer every question, but we'll try. 


PL AST BOY, 


56 


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THE PLAYBOY FORUM 


a continuing dialog on contemporary issues between playboy and its readers 


FEMALE FREEDOM 
Artificial contraception has, for the first 

time in history, allowed women the free- 
dom to be something other than celibates 
ог baby factories. The female work force 
has increased dramatically, but the most 
drastic, horrible consequence is the effect 
this new-found freedom has had on the 
male ego. In the good old days, no matter 
how lousy a lover a man may have been, a 
woman didn't think to complain. That 
two-second spurt, however  inade- 
quate, was still sufficient to affect her life 
profoundly by creating a new life; there- 
fore, the last thing on her mind was to be 
sexually satisfied. Now men are expected 
not just to be able to impregnate but to 
satisfy, demands to which many аге not 
equal, thus making their lives miserable, 
eventually driving them crazy and hasten- 
ing the collapse of civilization. 

Timothy R. Higgins 

Attorney at Law 

St. Lovis, Missouri 

Are you for all this or against il or just 

trying to start an argument? 


UNPLANNED FATHERHOOD 

After quietly enjoying pLavaov for better 
than two decades, І have been shocked out 
of my complacency by reading the two 
letters titled “Trojan War” in the June 
Playboy Forum that hold men to blame 
for unwanted parenthood. 1 would esti- 
mate that three quarters of the women 1 
have had relationships with have tried to 
become pregnant by me without my 
knowledge or consent, usually on such 
grounds—they told me later—as “I 
wanted a part of you forever.” 

Mari Williams’ comment about adoles- 
cent thinking is itself poorly thought out. 1 
was an adolescent (14) when I first en- 
countered this problem. The woman was 
21. The result of that fiasco is a girl who 
will never know who her father is, 

Williams” statement “А woman does 
not force, trap or lure a man into having 
sex” has very little to do with tricking him 
into the more permanent condition оГ 
fatherhood. More important is the ques- 
tion of trust in a relationship. In none of 
those cases did I just jump into bed with- 
out considering protection or discussing 
the matter with my partner. 

I find P. Kathy Wardlow's doubt that 
the writer from Torrance, California, was 
tricked into fatherhood to be both naive 
and chauvinistic. In the same breath, she 
delivers an insult to the intelligence of all 
men with her implication that a man 
would be dumb to be so tricked. You’ve 


come a long way, baby, but you haven’t 
learned much. 

I will not argue the question cf abortion, 
but if that choice is available to women, it 
should be available to men also. If the 
woman does not wish to have an abortion 
or to give the child up for adoption, then 
she should take full responsibility for it. 

Admittedly, women were long treated 


“Three quarters of the 
women I have had 
relationships with 
have tried to become 
fregnant by me without my 
knowledge or consent." 


unfairly. That has changed drastically in 
my lifetime. Now women like Williams. 
and Wardlow are blatantly suppressing 
the rights of men. If I had gotten а 14- 
year-old girl pregnant when I was 21, I 
would still be in prison, and it would be 
women like those who made sure I stayed 
there. 

D. L. Reitz 

Seattle, Washington 


SAY AGAIN? 

Bless the Illinois circuit judge who 
ordered the plaintif to reimburse the 
McDonald's Corporation $1,800,000 it 
had spent defending itself in a nuisance 
suit (Forum Newsfront, July). 

One problem in California is too many 


out-of-work ambulance chasers. We have 
insurance for everything, but I have had to 
spend money to defend myself in a lawsuit 
because one of my business partners was 
“unable to produce" for a prostitute. 

Don Davis 

Long Beach, California 

Just what business are you in? 


FETUS FRACAS 
Basically, I believe that the right of a 

fetus to survive should depend primarily 
on its capability of existing independently 
of another human being. If the fetus can- 
not survive outside the womb, and if the 
host organism does not desire to have her 
body parasitically infested by another hu- 
man life, then the rights of that organism 
should take precedence over those of the 
fetus. If tbe fetus can survive after remov- 
al, then it, too, has rights as an independ- 
ent creature. I believe the argument over 
abortion should be stated thus. 

Paul R. Megibow, M.D. 

Fort Lee, New Jersey 


Methinks Hugo Carl Koch (The Playboy 
Forum, Avgust) should study Robert Gun- 
ning's Technique of Clear Writing. In what 
dictionary does Koch find the word pabu- 
lum—Gerber' Guide to Garbling? 

Sure, my assertion that the start of life is 
at the moment of birth is simplistic; I like 
it that way. Why further complicate some- 
thing that no one can understand? 

Besides, I don’t buy what Koch says— 
that a human is “ап organism capable of 
being subsumed under the genus Homo 
and the species sapiens.” If I understand 
him correctly, he might include a diseased 
appendix, which means we’d have to hang 
a lot of surgeons for murder. 

Richard Zacher 
Oceanside, California 

Don't confuse organism with organ or 
you'll have Koch back on us again. And you 
can find pabulum right after pabulous in 
your big Webster's Second. 


I read the letter in the July Playboy 
Forum by Van D. Smith, which gives a su- 
perb explanation of how a person—not 
necessarily Smith himsell—could take a 
stand against a law permitting the option 
of abortion without having his opinion in- 
fluenced by religion. 

"The question of whether or not the un- 
born child is a person is onc that probably 
will never be answered. But one thing will 
neuer change: The prospective mother is 
definitely human. Because of that fact, I 
find no sensible reason to force a woman 


57 


58 


through nine months of pregnancy, child- 
birth and costs resulting therefrom. It is 
not fair to treat a woman like that even 
though she might be killing a person. 

Why is it that the people who are so glad 
to see a child enter the world continuously 
ignore all those who don't have enough to 
eat, don't have a place to live, don't have 
adequate schooling or clothing and don't 
have caring parents? 

William Edward Murphy 
Cincinnati, Ohio 

The point made by Smith is a sound one 
that does, indeed, explain how even a non- 
religious person who considers a fetus a 
human being cannot help viewing its destruc- 
tion as murder and cannot stand idly by while 
that supposed murder takes place. We still be- 
lieve that position to be grounded in theolog- 
ical feelings if mot im specific religious 
belief —and to be one thatmay be legitimately 
promoted through persuasion but should not 
le enforced by criminal law. 


PRICE OF DEATH 

Over the past year or so, several men 
convicted of murder were later—some- 
times many years later—exonerated and 
released. They were lucky. Many other in- 
nocent men were not so lucky and went to 
their deaths—despite the assurances of 
such as Professor Walter Berns of the 
American Enterprise Institute for Public 
Policy Research that such mistakes don't 
happen in this country. 

Professor Berns is wrong. I have been 
able to document nearly 100 wrongful ex- 
ecutions since the late 19th Century, to 
which must be added an unknown number 
of wrongful imprisonments for the same 
offense. Added to all other costs, the execu- 
tion ofinnocent persons is part of the price 
we pay to maintain a policy of capital 
punishment. 

James С. Rogers 
Richmond, Virginia 


CRIMINAL JUSTICE 

Victims of crime, the current cause 
célèbre, are most likely to be secondarily 
victimized by the very system that seeks to 
ameliorate their problems. The majority of 
jurisdictions possessing a victims” bill of 
Tights have become quagmires of red tape 
with little or no compensation to victims. 

Crime is viewed as being epidemic yet 
may be endemic due to such salient factors 
as politics and capitalism. Police, prosecu- 
tors, defense attorneys, jurists and cor- 
rectional personnel are all confined by 
judicial decrees and administrative poli- 
cies, but without such, the criminal-justice 
system would run rampant and would be- 
come similar to the Star Chamber. Rights 
and due-process procedures established to 
protect alleged offenders are also estab- 
lished to protect victims and the public in 
general. Recipients of those rights and pro- 
cedural safeguards can be easily inter- 
changed. 

Although it is difficult to write briefly 
about the subject without alluding to spe- 


cific instances, cases and studies, it is time 
to counteract the deluge of sophomoric 
attitudes and opinions that regularly 
appear in The Playboy Forum claiming to 
understand and answer the problems of 
the system. The criminal-justice system 
runs the entire gamut from initial per- 
petration of a violation to the complete 
release or exoneration of an individual. 
Contrary to popular belief, there are no 
simple solutions to such a complex prob- 
lem. Even with its flaws, ours is the best 
system of justice for our society. 

Richard McCauley 

Oakland, California 


FORESKIN FOLLIES 

It strikes me as sad that the bizarre let- 
ters of Russell B. deBeauclair and Steven 
E. Gilbert occupy places of prominence in 
The Playboy Forum (July). І certainly feel 
that the continued practice of infant cir- 
cumcision is cruel and irresponsible. 

In medical literature, it is well estab- 
lished that routine infant circumcision is 
devoid of demonstrable health benefits. 
You just cannot cut into any healthy organ 
and expect to improve on it. John Muir 
once said, “Any fool can destroy a tree.” 
Likewise, any fool can destroy the foreskin 
of a helpless infant. 

Mark Hulstrunk 
Rexford, New York 


In publishing the letter of Russell В. de- 
Beauclair you did the integrity of your fine 
magazine injustice. Granted, the condi- 
tions in the front lines of World War One 
were not the best and it would have been 
possible for an infection of his grand- 
father's penis to develop, but for the head 
of it to fall off in the mud is preposterous. 
With blood poisoning or gangrene, the 
man would have died first. 

J. Scott Campbell 
Bentonville, Arkansas 

DeBeauclair was pulling your leg—or 

maybe your pud. 


DRUG LAWS 

"The various studies connecting crime to 
heroin use should warn us about our pres- 
ent drug policies. Not only are they 
archaic and repressive but they are also 
counterproductive—economically, medi- 
cally and socially. 

Economically, harsh drug laws cost bil- 
lions to try to enforce. What is more 
important, as well as most misunderstood, 
is that harsher laws result in more violent 
crimes, not fewer. As the laws become stif- 
ег (e.g., mandatory life sentences), the 
risks become greater for the supplier. Sim- 
ple supply and demand dictates that 
increased risks necessitate greater profits, 
which means higher prices for the user, 
which, in turn, translates into crimes to 
cover the costs of the user's addiction. 

In 1915, the lead sentence in a lead arti- 
cle in the Journal of the American Medical 
Association said this of opiates: “If the en- 
tire materia medica at our disposal were 


limited to the choice of only one drug, I am 
sure that a great many, if not the majority, 
of us would choose opium." 

"The contention that our drug laws help 
people save themselves from themselves or 
that opiate users are somehow inherently 
criminal or sick just doesn't hold water if 
the historical facts are examined. Dr. Wil- 
liam Stewart Halsted, founder of the first 
school of surgery at Johns Hopkins, used 
cocaine in large doses during a phenome- 
nally successful surgical career. He is just 
one of the famous people who, if alive to- 
day, would be classified as sick because of 
their self-medication. 

In sum, the social ills associated with 
the “drug problem,” such as poverty, 
crime and disease, are not caused by the 
pharmacological properties of the drugs 
themselves; rather, they are a direct result 
of our current laws against those drugs. 

(Name withheld by request) 
Lubbock, Texas 


WOMAN'S BEST FRIEND 

А gun would not protect my home in my 
absence; a burglar could steal it, along 
with the rest of my possessions. If I kept it 
accessible, it could endanger my young 
nephew when he spent the night at my 
place. If I carried it with me, it could be 
wrested from my reasonable hands by a 
criminal or a lunatic who could turn it 
against me in accordance with the statis- 
tics of such encounters. 

So I don't have a gun. I have Popeye, а 
95-pound pit-bull cross, instead. He eats 
like a pig, is as big as a horse and as ugly 
as a wildebeest and is worth his weight in 
silver bullets for the freedom and the 
security he provides. If I had a gun instead 
of a dog, I wouldn't have vet and dog-food 
bills, nor would I have to search for a land- 
lord who will rent to a dog owner. What 
Td have instead would be a piece of metal 
that spewed death and knew no loyalty. 
Popeye exudes life and will protect me and 
mine against any kind of attack. He takes 
his duties very seriously. Yet this same 
potential killer obeys the commands of my 
little nephew, accepts playful clobbering 
with his tail still wagging and doesn't go 
off accidentally. 

Donnamarie Martinek 
West Los Angeles, California 


Regarding the comments of M 
Richardson on social justice (The Playboy 
Forum, January) по organization has 
been more in favor of increasing police and 
court powers to successfully prosecute 
armed criminals than the National Rifle 
Association. It is the “so-called liberals,” 
as reader Richardson refers to them— 
notably the American Civil Liberties Un- 
ion—that have kept such a protective eye 
on the rights of the accused and of con- 
victed criminals. 1 often wonder about the 
sincerity of their concern for homicide 
victims. 

Richard Wilson 
Farmington, New Mexico. 


FORUM NEWSFRONT 


what's happening in the sexual and social arenas 
S 


BIG DEAL 
ROGLE RIVER, OREGON—Ten local 
high school girls, their chaperon and their 
principal found themselves in hot waler 
with the school board afler the students re- 
served the school library and hired a male 


stripper to perform at a surprise party for 


one of their classmates. The girls had gone 
through the proper channels and the strip- 
per had kept his shorts on, but a school- 
board member said they had received 
numerous complaints. The girls’ mothers 
had approved of the idea, and one of them 
had her own complaint: “People just don't 
have any sense of humor. All it was was a 
bunch of giggly high school girls playing a 
joke ona friend.” 


FAT FRAUD 

SAN FRANCISCO— Promoters of the Mark 
Eden Bust Developer and a variety of 
purported waistline slimmers have agreed 
to pay $1,100,000 in settlement of a mail- 
fraud case. The defendants also had pro- 
moted the Cambridge Diet and had sold 
the Astro-Trinmer, the Astro Jogger, the 
Sauna Belt Waistline Reducer, Slim- 
Skins, Vacu-Pants, Hot Pants, Trim 
Jeans, Dream Wrap and other mail-order 
antifat devices of dubious merit. 


LITTLE LOOPHOLE 

LONDON, ONTARIO—A 64-year-old тап 
has been acquilted on two charges of sex- 
ually assaulting his 12-year-old grand- 
daughter after a judge ruled that the girl 
did not demonstrate the religious back- 
ground necessary to understand the na- 
ture and the consequences of taking an 
oath. Аза consequence, the judge decided, 
the girl could not give the sworn testimony 
needed to successfully prosecute her 
grandfather, and he instructed the jurors 
that, like it or not, they would have to re- 
turn a verdict of not guilty. 


PARTHENOGENESIS 

LONDON—À human embryo spon- 
taneously developed in a laboratory with- 
cut being fertilized by sperm, according to 
the prestigious British weekly Nature. The 
report was wrilten by members of Britain's 
Medical Research Council, who said ihe 
embryo was found to contain only mater- 
nal chromosomes but had divided three 
times to reach the eight-cell stage. The 
director of the council said that the event 
occurred during research on the high fail- 
ure rate of fertilized eggs after they are 
implanted in the womb. He speculated 
that the egg might have been triggered to 
divide by the presence of sperm but said 
that the sperm's male chromosomes were 
nol incorporated into it. 


POT SHOPS 

NEW YORK city — The New York Police 
Department has been finding it impossible 
to combat the spread of small stores openly 
selling pot, sometimes without even the 
pretext of offering groceries, health foods, 
tobacco or video games. “Smoke shops are 
taking over our streets,” says the city’s spe- 
cial narcotics prosecutor. “No neighbor- 
hood in New York City is immune to them 
any longer.” Another official noted that 
“judges know how overcrowded the jails 
are. They don't want to add to the jail 
crisis by locking up people for selling 
marijuana. It’s not considered a major 
offense.” 


SCREWED AGAIN 

ALBANY— Frank Serpico, a former 
police officer whose fight against depart- 
mental corruption. in New York City in- 
spired a hil movie, has been ordered to 
support his girlfriend's illegitimate child, 
whom he says was conceived through 
calculated deceit. The states highest 
appellate court held that the mother's 
alleged assertion that she was “on the pill” 
had no bearing on his obligation as the 
child's father. 


ORAL SEX? 
CHICAGO— The Illinois Appellate Court 
has reinstated criminal charges against a 
suburban oral surgeon accused of making 
“insulting sexual contact” with several 
female patients while they were under 
anesthesia. The court called a judge's dis- 
missal of the charges without a trial an 
"abuse of discretion." 


DIVORCE AMERICAN STYLE 

BRAINERD, MINNESOTA— Two men have 
been released on three years’ probation 
after kidnaping their mutual ex-wife to 
‚protect her from a third man. Both 
pleaded guilty to a reduced charge of false 
imprisonment only to learn that while they 
were in jail, their ex and their rival had 
gollen married, 


BARROOM ABOMINATIONS 

WARWICK, RHODE ISLAND— Tuo women 
have been convicted of committing the 
"abominable and detestable crime against. 
nature”—oral sex—on five men at a 
bachelor party іп a Richmond, Rhode Is- 
land, lar. The women's attorney told the 
Jury, “Ws an abomination and a dis 
that the state brings charges like thi 
said that the case was a good example of 
the double standard of justice that has ex- 
isted “ever since Eve took the rap in the 
Garden.” The male crime victims were not 
charged, he noted. 


COKE HABITS 

raris—Three phony nuns were 
arrested at Charles de Gaulle Airport car- 
ming 63.8 pounds of cocaine under their 
habits. French authorities said that the 
women were picked up on a tip from for- 
eign police and that the street value of the 
drug was about $9,500,000. 


POLICEMAN'S REVENGE 

BILLINGS, MONT: —An irate motorist 
is probably wishing hed paid his 
speeding ticket and let it go at that. In- 
stead, he decided to sue the supervisor 
of the ticketing highway patrolman for 
$1,000,000. The suit was quickly dis- 
missed but the motorist persisted, filing a 
series of 100-year liens to attach the super- 
wisor's and his wife's personal property 
and assets. Al that point, the officer, him- 
self a bit irritated, countersued and won 


а default judgment when the motorist 
failed to show up in court. The case was 
appealed all the way to the Montana Su- 
preme Court, whose justices, also miffed at 
the motorist and at nuisance suits in gener- 
al, upheld the $200,000 award, plus court 
costs. The motorist had no comment. 


© Lorillard, V.S.A., 1983 


Kent Ill: 2 mg. “tar” 0.3 mg. nicotine; А 
Kent: 12 mg. “tar” 0.9 mg. nicotine; av. per cigarette, Warning: The Surgeon General Has Determined 


FIC Report Mar. 1883. Kent Golden Lights: В mg. “tar? | That Cigarette Smoking Is Dangerous to Your Health. 
0.7 mg. nicotine av. per cigarette by FTC Method 


When you know | 
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ees 


"5 m 
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62 


playboy casebook 


POSTSCRIPT TO A REPORTER’S MURDER 


max dunlap didn't belong on death row; now he’s suing the people who put him there 


In June 1976, а car bomb transformed 
Phoenix newspaperman Don Bolles from a 
bothersome local reporter into a martyred 
investigalive journalist, The dying Bolles 
was able to implicate one of his killers, who 
later plea-bargained for his life by naming 
two alleged accomplices. Both were соп- 
victed and received death sentences that 
have since been reversed. One, James Robi- 
son, remains in prison on an unrelated con- 
viction. The other, Max Dunlap, is free 
and is suing the city and the police for 
$605,000,000. The confessed killer, John 
Harvey Adamson, may yet go free on the 
proverbial legal technicality, which would 
leave one of the country’s most spectacular 
murder cases officially unsolved, due large- 
ly lo monumental blundering by the police 
and the role played by a hanging press 


That the city of Phoenix and 19 of its 
police officers knowingly violated their 
constitutional duty and conspired to sup- 
5 exculpatory evidence is the prin- 
s $605,000,000 
lawsuit. Phoenix attorney Murray Mil- 
ler, who will try the suit, called the police 
investigation “a massive cover-up.” 
While his once-respected client waited 
оп death row, Miller told the court that 
“Dunlap has been in prison for over a 
year and has maintained his innocence 
every waking moment of his incarcera- 
tion; he and his family have suffered 
indescribable and unspeakable humilia- 
tion, torment and grief." 

It would be two more years before the 
state supreme court would rule, and 
when it did, The American Lawyer pub- 


Private investigator Loke Headley (left) and ruaor Senior Editor Bill Helmer talk with Max 


Dunlap and Jim Robison at Arizona State Prison. Both murder convi 


If Max Dunlap had not been a prom- 
inent and popular businessman with a 
clean record and had not had many 
wealthy friends, he and Robison, a local 
poet-philosopher-plumber, almost сег- 
tainly would have died by now in the 
Arizona gas chamber, victims of a police 
stampede whipped along by public out- 
rage and by the murdered reporter’s own 
newspapers. But because of the costly de- 
fense investigation financed by Dunlap's 
supporters, the state supreme court 
unanimously oyerturned the convictions 
in the Don Bolles homicide case and 
granted new trials; however, Adamson 
refused 10 testify and the charges were 
dismissed. The court ruled not on the 
new evidence as such but on the narrow 
point of appellate law that the trial judge 
had not allowed the defense to properly 
cross-examine the prosecution’s star wit- 
ness—the confessed bomber himself— 
which “might have uncovered ties with 
individuals who the defense claimed 


were responsible for the murder.” 


lions were later reversed. 


lished a long article on the Bolles case 
that described the “mounting evidence 
that [Dunlap’s and Robison’s] convic- 
tions and death sentences could have 
been the greatest miscarriage of justice 
since the 1927 executions of Sacco and 
Vanzetti.” 

As Miller and members of the defense 
team recall the case: 

So -eager were the police and the 
Phoenix press to solve the crime that a 
number of strange events occurred soon 
after the bombing. The publishers of The 
Arizona Republic and The Phoenix Gazelle 
secretly put up $100,000 that the Phoenix 
chief of police, through his subordinates, 
offered to the main suspect if he would 
talk. That offer has since been admitted 
in sworn depositions from police officers, 
including the head of the Bolles 
investigation, who characterized it as 
“unnecessary,” "dumb" and "stupid." 
Тһе suspect apparently took the offer to 
mean that the police lacked evidence and 


turned it down. But when more 
policework led to his arrest and con- 
fession, he still was able to trade his 
promised testimony for 20 ycars and 
for immunity from prosecution in many 
other serious crimes. 

Тһе confessed bomber was ап accom- 
plished local hoodlum and con man 
named John Harvey Adamson, known in 
local tavern circles as the “friendly 
neighborhood assassin.” His testimony 
in the Dunlap-Robison trial derived from 
statements given to police by an impli- 
cated friend, Phoenix attorney Neal 
Roberts, who had gotten Adamson out оГ 
town by chartered plane as soon as word 
was out that the dying Bolles had named 
him. Roberts’ theory —which would earn 
him limited immunity—pinned the mur- 
der on a Phoenix millionaire who had 
once been investigated by Bolles and 
who supposedly bore the reporter a 
deadly grudge. One of that man's close 
friends was Dunlap. 

Dunlap openly admitted that he had 
delivered $6000 to another 
attorney's office where he had found 
Adamson himself waiting but said he 
had done it strictly as a favor for a high 
school classmate—Roberts. Roberts 
denied that, and the prosecution called 
the money partial payment for the 
murder. Robison, whom Dunlap didn't 
know and who had underworld friends, 
was named by Adamson as the man who 
had triggered the bomb by radio control. 
Roberts took the stand in the joint trial 
but also took the Fifth Amendment, 
refusing to answer questions on the 
grounds of possible self-incrimination. 
He was later tried three times and finally 
acquitted in conncction with a different 
bomb plot. 

Roberts’ original theory, supported by 
Adamson’s later confession, had the 
effect ofdirecting the homicide investiga- 
tion away from the corporations, indi- 
viduals and politicians whom Bolles was 
investigating at the time of his death, 
who had the strongest motives for his 
murder and who, some claim, were 
associated with attorney Roberts himself. 
By recklessly granting immunities and 
cutting deals, the prosecution and the 
police boxed themselves in, says Miller, 
by clinging to the belief that attorney 
Roberts and star witness Adamson were 
truthful, As he reminded the court later, 
“The state has never seen fit to give Mr. 
Adamson a polygraph test. This in spite 
of the fact that his closest friend . . . told 


some 


the Phoenix police department that 
Adamson to them and was in sub- 
stance perjuring himself.” If ever a wit- 
ness deserved microscopic scrutiny on 
the issue of credibility, said Miller, it was 
Adamson, Adamson's friend was given a 
police lie-detector test and passed it. 

‘The job of getting the Dunlap-Robison 
convictions was greatly simplificd by a 
new law that conveniently made Arizona 
onc of the few states that do not require 
corroboration of accomplice testimony. 
Against Dunlap was Adamson's word 
alone, for Dunlap had explained in detail 
his connection with the money. Against 
Robison was Adamson, together with an 
admitted perjurer and a witness who 
failed two lie-detector tests in placing 
him near the crime scene. Supposedly. 
Adamson was later asked by a cellmate 
why he had framed Dunlap and Robison, 
and he answered, "Because my people 
don't give immunity." 


THE RAILROAD STATION 


Death row is the railroad station 
where condemned men wait while the 
courts decide their final desi 
The track leading to the gas 
lies rusted from years of disuse, while 
the ones that carry local traffic back 
and forth to court gleam from argu- 
ment and endless rhetoric, One of the 
rails is the public cry of frustrated re- 
venge. The other is the failure of a 
judicial system that feeds on its own 
hypocrisy. After waiting in the rail- 
road station month upon endless 
month, I cannot help but fecl the 
train should run on time or the trip 
should be canceled. 

— James ROBISON, Death Row 
Arizona State Prison, 1979 


Like the police, the Phoenix press 
had accepted the Roberts theory un- 
ically from the start and had reported 
on the case in a manner that left little 
doubt in the minds of readers that some 
hard-nosed justice was coming down. 
The convictions of Dunlap and Robison 
were celebrated in the newsroom and 
brought a collective sigh of relief in both 
law-enforcement and political circles, as 
well as in the community. Case closed. 

But the case was still wide-open to 
Dunlap’s many friends, who formed a de- 
fense committee and hired Lake Head- 
ley, a onetime Las Vegas police officer 
turned private detective who has 
worked with PLavBoY as a researcher on 
several cases. Headley began developing 
the leads neglected by the police. He 
soon had enough new information to 
support Dunlap's appeal and to interest 
the Playboy Foundation. Meanwhile, he 
had found an ally in reporter Don 
Devereux of the Scottsdale Daily 
Progress, the only paper to doubt early 
on that Dunlap and Robison were 


guilty. To the dismay of the authorities 
and the contented Phoenix press, the two 
began turning up rumors and circum- 
stantial evidence that one of the prin: 
pals in the bomb plot might be Roberts 
himself, presumably acting in behalf of 
interests involved in the dog racing and 
land fraud that Bolles had been trying to 
expose. Bolles, some believed, had been 
close to forging a link between organized 
crime and several of Arizona’s most 
prominent political families. During that 
period, Headley was hassled by police for 
conducting his investigation on an out- 
ofstate license; and he and his girlfriend, 
Terri, nearly died when a suspicious fire 
destroyed their apartment. Devereux 
was threatened, and one night, a truck 
was driven at him, 

One thing Headley learned was that 
some of his new information was already 
known 10 police. Despite the law of dis- 
covery, much exculpatory evidence had 
not been turned over to the defense, be- 
cause the police had secretly purged their 
own files. Statements, reports, interviews 
and tape recordings implicating certain 


parties simply were intentionally de- 
stroyed or conveniently lost, including 
a police officer's personal diary docu- 

the purge. Deliberate conccal- 
of discoverable information 15 
charged in Dunlap's sui 

Headley is now an investigator for 
Gentile & Massi, a prominent Las Vegas 
law firm, but the Bolles case has been 
kept alive by Devereux and his pub- 
lisher, Jonathan Marshall—much to the 
annoyance of the Phoenix press, which 
now reports, in tones ranging from im- 
patience to exasperation, only what it 
can't ignore in the Progress. For example, 
Dunlap's lawsuit—one of the largest in 
Arizona history—was mentioned in a 
short item on an inside page days 
after it was filed. 

In one curious way, the justice system 
has worked—or half worked. But the 
same clout and private funds that per- 
mitted Dunlap’s successful appeal and 
his pe lawsuit have completely un- 
raveled the prosecution’s pat case, and 
now it’s unlikely that long-promised 


ment 


additional arrests can ever be made. 
Adamson, his plea bargain revoked for 
his refusal to testify іп any retrials, has 
himself been retried and sentenced to 
death, which he may yet successfully 
appeal on grounds of double jeopardy. 


GET IT RIGHT! 

I laughed when 1 read Bill Loren’s 
“*Fire!” us. "Fuck?" letter in the June 
Playboy Forum and cracked up at Bill 
Deming's search for a nicer word than fuck 
two es later. From our ollice bulletin 
board, I submit the attached: 


FUCK you" 

Perhaps one of the most interesting 
and colorful words in the English lan- 
guage today is the word fuck, It is the 
one magical word that just by its 
sound can describe pain, pleasure, 
hate and love. 

Fuck falls into many grammatical 
categories. It can be used as a verb, 
both transitive (John fucked Mary) 
and intransitive (Mary was fucked by 
John). It can be an active verb (John 
really gives a fuck) or a passive verb 
(Mary really doesn’t give a fuck), an 
adverb (Mary is fucking interested in 
John) and a noun (Mary is a fine 
fuck). It can be used as an adjective 
(Mary is fucking beautiful). It should 
be obvious now that there are not 
many words as versatile as fuck 


(Name withheld by request) 
Harrisburg, Pennsylvania 
That document nearly sent our Copy Edi- 
tor out the window. She points out that when 
the anonymous author says transitive and ın- 
transitive, he means active and passive; his 
supposed active and passive verbs are both 
noun objects; and in his last example, beauti- 
ful is the adjective while fucking is the 
adverb—and he should be fucking ashamed 
of himself. 


1 have just finished reading Bill Dem- 
ing’s letter about his search for a nicer- 
sounding substitute for the word fuck as 
used “in any loving context” (The Playboy 
Forum, August) and propose the word 
wank. Isn’t that preferable to both the 
just-plain-homely fuck and the sickly, pale 
and puritanical “make love”? 

"Тһе word is of uncertain etymology; I 
thought I had made it up myself during 
my penultimate year at Michigan State 
University, but that was later brought into 
doubt when a young woman told me she'd 
heard the word in England, as in wanking 
olf. Alas, she'd also heard what 1 thought 
was my newly coined word blobacious, to 
describe large and perfectly round breasts 

Anyway, I just want to promote this 
small contribution to the language and sec 
if it finds the support of the disconsolate 
and romantic Deming 

Mark W. Jones 
Manitou Springs, Colorado 
Wank you very much. 


"he Playboy Forum" offers the opportu- 
nity for an extended dialog between readers 
and editors on contemporary issues. Address 
all correspondence to The Playboy Forum, 
Playboy Building, 919 North Michigan Ave- 
nue, Chicago, Illinois 60611. 


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PLAYBOY INTERVIEW: KENN Y ROGERS 


a candid. conversation. about music, wealth and the good things in life 


with the man currently considered the most popular s 


inger in america 


No one would linger ouside a Fargo, 
North Dakota, hotel side entrance ona frigid 
April morning, clutching ап Instamatic, 
without a very good reason. The same сап be 
said of the group huddling at the edge of a 
snow-swept Duluth runway, waiting for the 
passengers in a private jel named Marianne 
to disembark. And of the two coeds in a 
Porsche whose relentless pursuit of a singer's 
limousine forced the man to pull over and 
hand out passes for his show that night. 

If you're thinking the singer was Bowie or 
Jagger, forget it. The unlikely but compel- 
ling reason in each case was а middle-aged, 
middle-of-the-road balladeer, Kenny Rogers 

And here's why: Each evening, dressed in 
one of his many three-piece suils, Rogers 
circumnavigales his octagonal stage in the 
center of a sellout crowd and sings 90 min 
utes of hit after hit. You сап name them m 
your sleep: “Lucille,” “The Gambler,” “Ruby, 
Don't Take Your Love to Town,” “Coward of 
the County,” “Love Lifted Me,” "Love Will 
Turn You Around,” “Through the Years,” 
“Lady” and more. 

Between songs, Rogers’ folksy, familiar 
patter makes the audience feel as if they're m 
his living зоот for а cozy get-together, He 
even shows home movies featuring his wife, 
Marianne, and a year in the life—from birth 


V 


"1 think people need—and I'm uncomfortable 
with ths word—herves. 1 represent two 
things. One is the importance of family life. 
The other is the ability—the possthility—in 
this country of succeeding from nothing.” 


to first steps of their son, Christopher Cody, 
Meanwhile, silhouetted in the dark, Dad soft 

ly croons “You Are So Beautiful" and means 
iL If Christopher happens to be at Ihe show, 
he's handed onstage for a bow. Ii may be too 
sentimental for some, but t's undeniable that 
ош there in the crowd, couples are intertwin- 
ing fingers and family members are getting. 
misty-eyed, sharing т Kenny Rogers’ version 
of the good life. 

After a 25-year-long roller-coaster ride, 
Rogers, 45, has come to a full мор atop the 
music business highest peak. He's rich, suc 
cessful, a model citizen and, yes, loved. And 
he did it his way. For three years їп а row, 
Rogers was voted top male musical performer 
in the Peoples Choice Awards, which are 
based on a Gallup-conducted survey. Even 
pop critics who once reviled his huge com- 
mon-denominator appeal have begun lo re 
cant, undone by the overwhelming fact of his 
musics popularity. And of its profits. 

Since 1977, Rogers has sold nearly 
$250,000,000 worth of records. His 
"Greatest Hus” package is one of the top ten 
best-selling albums in history. On us strength, 
he recently signed a five-year pact with a new 
label, RCA Records, for more Шап 
$20,000,000. He has done three network 
TV specials and two TV mavies. One. “The 


"I don't expect to stay at this peak for the rest 
of my life. But what would hurt would be to 


feel that people didn't care anymore. When 


the power and the hit songs are gone, who 
will be left to care for me?” 


Gambler,” was the highest-rated TV movie of 
the 1979-1980 season. “The Gambler I, 
co-starring Linda Evans and Bruce Boxleit 
ner, is due on the tube this month 

Rogers’ substantial income, which was 
more than $20,000,000 last year, is plowed 
тойу into real estate. He owns а 1200-acre 
farm in Georgia, where he breeds Arabian 
horses and cattle. He has bought and is re- 
modeling adjacent office buildings on L.A.'s 
Sunset Strip that will become the Rogers 
Entertainment Center. He also has a house in 
Malibu, one т Bel Air and one іп Beverly 
Hills, the former Dino De Laurentiis resi 
dence, which had a price tag of 
$14,500,000, not including the current ve- 
designing costs. Rogers also boasts his own 
recording studio in L-A., called, appropriate- 
ly, Lion Share. Two hundred employees — 
from tour personnel to architects, construc 
поп crews and security leams—are needed to 
run Mr. Rogers neighborhood. 

Rogers was born, decidedly without a silver 
spoon, on August 21, 1938, т Houston. His 
Sather was a carpenter and a shipyard work 
ет, his mother a housewife and а sometime 
practical nurse, He was the second son and 
the fourth of eight children. For a time, the 
Jamily lived in а 835-a-month Federal hous- 
ng project apartment in Houston Heights 


PHOTOGRAPHY BY J VERSER ENGELMARO 


"Em a pretty baring guy. However, 1 think 
that to be as boring as I am and to have dıme 
what I have is pretty incredible H gives hope 
to other boring people, telling them if they 
bust their ass, it can happen.” 


65 


PLAYBOY 


Rogers was musically gifted as a child. For 
singing “You Are My Sunshine” to the old 
Jolks al a local nursing home, he got 25 cents 
and a pal on the head. In high school, he 
formed a band called The Scholars, which 
played local dates and dances. He then re- 
corded a couple of singles produced by his 
brother Lelan. One, “That Crazy Feeling,” 
sold well enough to earn Rogers an appear- 
ance on "American Bandstand." But he had 
nothing with which to follow his single and 
his solo career stalled. 

Yet he remained committed lo music: He 
hung ош at Housion bars and night clubs 
and eventually joined the jazzy Bobby Doyle 
Trio as an upright-bass player. The trio be- 
came an acclaimed local attraction. and. re- 
corded an album. Six and а half years later, 
Rogers was playing the Las Vegas lounges 
with another group, The Kirby Stone Four. 
He credits Stone with sparking his interest in 
‚photography (Rogers has done several album 
covers and shoots models regularly) and with 
leaching him that “there was more to this 
business than wet towels and naked girls.” 

Eager to stay out of Houston, Rogers soon 
joined The New Christy Minstrels. But by 
1967, their folk sound was already outdated, 
so he and three olher members defected to 
form The First Edition. They scored with 
their second single, the pseudo-psychedelic 
“Just Dropped In (To See What Condition 
My Condition Was In).” Their other hits in- 
clude “Reuben James,” “Something's Burn- 
ing,” “Heed the Call" and “Ruby” Released 
under the name of Kenny Rogers and The 
First Edition, “Ruby” sel the stage for Rogers 
аз а lead singer and a front man, and money 
increased accordingly, with Rogers taking 
home $125,000 a year at the band's height 
But the group finally disbanded in financial 
disarray, leaving him $65,000 in debi. 

It wasn't his only problem. His third mar- 
riage was on the rocks, sacrificed, he says, to 
an insatiable drive for success and ассері- 
ance—as his first two marriages had been 
He persisted in his career, doing TV ads for 
mail-order guitar lessons, co-authoring a 
how-to book titled “Making It with Music,” 
then going to Nashville, where he established 
his pop-flavored country style and built a 
grass-roots following that is still loyal today. 
Soon, he signed a record deal as a solo artist 
with United Artists Records, hired a band 
and had a respectable hit with “Love Lifted 
Me.” In June 1977, “Lucille” reached the 
number-five spot on “Billboard's” Hot 100 
chart, and Rogers! career has been sailing 
ever since. He has recorded duets with Kim 
Carnes, Dottie West, Sheena Easton and 
Dolly Parton and has worked with such no- 
table writer-producers as Lionel Richie, Jr., 
and Barry Gibb. 

Rogers was also luckier in love the fourth 
lime around. In 1977, he married. actress 
(“Hee Наш”) and model Marianne Gordon. 
He cites their compatibility and stability as а 
major contribution to his current. fortunes. 
All told, he was well on his way to fulfilling a 
promise he had made to his band during their 
‚first, everyone-in-one-rental-car tour: "Stick 
with me, please, and 1 promise that next time, 


we'll be able to afford two rental cars." Today, 
Rogers could own his own car-rental company 
and attracts almost as much attention for his 
wealth and his spending habits as he does for 
his music. 

We sent Contributing Editor David Rensin 
(his last “Playboy Interview” was with Larry 
“J. Е. Ewing” Hagman, in November 1980) 
to talk with Rogers during a two-week concert 
tour of the Midwest. He reports: 

“Kenny Rogers is fond of saying that 
perhaps his best quality is that he is who he 
presents himself to be and that he will answer 
any questions put to him, because he has 
nothing to hide. You find out it’s true—when 
you finally get to him. Rogers is a difficult 
man to pin down. His time is carefully 
budgeted between work and family, and the 
sheer hours required for the ‘Playboy Inter- 
view’ seemed to involve an unusually drastic 
commitment for him. So even though he was 
available to me constantly and invited me to 
fly between cities on his private jet, 1 found 
Securing our agreed-upon lime a frustrating 
exercise. His time on the plane was reserved 
for solitary thought and naps. After shows, 
when most performers are too wired to sleep, 


“Im not a great singer or a 
vocal technician. I have a 
familiar voice with a certain 
honesty and distinction.” 


Rogers watched tennis matches, called his 
wife or dozed—if he stayed out al all. Most 
nights, he was out of the arena before the ap- 
plause stopped, in his limousine, speeding to 
the airport and on his plane, flying home. 

“Despite Rogers’ elusiveness, when we 
were together he concentrated on answering 
every question fearlessly. But after a few ses- 
sions, even though we had warmed to each 
other, it seemed that he was responding to 
each query carefully, treading a narrow emo- 
tional corridor. Although he presumably 
didn't feel the same way about his estranged 
son and a new record deal, he talked in the 
same tone about both. That provided the cen- 
tral theme of our conversation. 

“Mostly, he was the perfect host. Besides 
being offered the fun of flying with him on his 
jet (outfilted in green velour, wood and brass, 
like a railroad gambling car), | was invited 
back to his Georgia farm with the band afier 
one concert and woke up the next morning 
wilh horses grazing outside my window. 
When that evening's show was canceled be- 
cause of snow, everyone got to relax under 
clear skies and indulge in the many escapist 
activities the farm offered: His six-bedroom 
guest house had a home computer with an 
array of games; the refrigerator and the 
cabinets were always fully stocked. And, as a 
special treat, I took advantage of Rogers’ col- 


lection of four-wheel Honda қосағы, spin- 
ning around the red-clay track circling the 
farm. The environment is so impressive that 
‘some band members call the place Six Flags 
over Kenny Rogers. Rogers himself is re- 
ferred to, fondly, as King Faisal al-Kenny. 

“When I first met him, backstage at a con- 
cert in Fargo, North Dakota, he was playing 
a card game called UNO with drummer Bob- 
by Daniels and, much to Daniels! chagrin, 
was winning. ‘That’s because | make up the 
rules апа can change them any time I want, 
said Rogers with a sly grin before returning, 
poker-faced, to the slaughter. The scene pro- 
vided the appropriate opening hand for our 
first session.” 


PLAYBOY: Once and for all: When do you 
hold "сіп and when do you fold "ет? 
ROGERS: [Laughs] Гуе never really been 
asked that question before. But I've played 
enough cards in Vegas to know that you 
follow the trend. When уоште winning, 
hold “em. When you're losing, fold "em. 
Believe it or not, any gambler will tell you 
that cards do run in strcaks. 

PLAYBOY: Your luck has certainly been 
holding these past few years. Since 1977, 
you've sold 35,000,000 albums. In 1982, 
you did 140 shows and carned in excess оГ 
$20,000,000. What arc you doing right? 
ROGERS: It’s probably casier to analyze 
failure. When you're dcaling with the arts, 
when your success depends completely оп 
someone else's taste, there аге no abso- 
lutes. I'm not a great singer or a vocal 
techn n, like Barbra Streisand or Ken- 
ny Loggins or Kenny Rankin. I probably 
sing better than I give myself credit for, 
but actually, my talent is sort of unob- 
vious. I’m a stylist. An entertainer, I have 
r voice with a certain honesty and 
distinction. The trademark helps. But 
beyond that, I have nothing specific to 
‚offer except professionalism and commer- 


PLAYBOY: Those are not unique qualities, 
nor do they alone guarantee success. What 
do you think you have that's special? 
ROGERS: Well, I guess people relate to what 
I'm saying in my songs and to me as an in- 
dividual. I deal with the man on the street. 
We all share an emotional common de- 
nominator. We all want someone to care 
for us. We all fear rejection. We'd all like to 
think that love lasts forever. I’ve always 
believed that if I could touch on those 
emotional issues— personally, socially, in 
whatever way— I'd be successful. I’m also 
consistent and mainstream. I'm not fad- 
oriented or into subculture stuff. But Pm 
not out of touch, either. [like groups such 
as Duran Duran, the Go-Go's, lots of Top. 
40 stuff. There's absolutely a place for all 
of the new music. It's just not what / do. 

I also believe it's crucial not to be a 
follower. Lots of artists say, "What's out 
there that the people like that I сап im- 
prove upon?" 1 say, "What's mof out 
there?” Consequently, whenever Гуе had 


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PLAYBOY 


68 


a major hit, likc Ruby, Don'! Take Your 
Love lo Town or Lucille, it's come when 
there was nothing else like it out there at 
the time. Both were country songs. Ruby 
came in the midst of acid rock, Lucille in 
the midst of cverything but country. 
PLAYBOY: You spent six and a half years in. 
a Houston jazz group, changed to folk, 
then to rock, then to country and ended 
up, at least for now, right іп the middle of 
the road. Why all the leapfrogging? 
ROGERS: The minute 1 become predictable. 
my time at the top is limited. As soon as 
people know lm going to do another bal- 
lad and another and another, it’s over. 
Each album Гуе done has been different 
from the one before. Yet there are common 
denominators 1 try to maintain, because 
there are an automatic 750,000 1o 
1,000,000 people who buy my albums the 
moment they're released. I want to keep 
that audience. Any other people Pd like to 
buy my records, I have to sell to. So 1 try 
different stuff, things unusual for mc. If I 
get lucky with the new material and have a 
hit, it opens up new areas. II I don't get 
lucky, it doesn't hurt, because most people 
tend not to remember songs they don’t 
like. You just have to know when to stick 
your neck out and when to pull it back 
My thing is controlled experimentation. 
PLAYBOY: What are some examples? 
ROGERS: Well, Lionel Richie wouldn't 
accept the way I originally wanted to sing 
his song Lady. So I had to learn it his way, 


line by line. Then I sang it my way, keep- 
ing his directions in mind. The final prod- 
uct was 80 percent Lionel; it was also onc 
of my best vocals ever. More recently, with 
Barry Gibb, I thought contrasting my 
voice with the Bee Gees’ type of track 
would be magic. But I told him Pd also 
have to have some country songs to satisfy 
my main audience. Beyond that, he could 
do calypsos if he wanted to 

PLAYBOY: How did that project develop? 
ROGERS: It was my idea. A couple of y 
ago, I was going to make an album on 
which I would sing ducts with several 
people: Dolly Parton, Willie Nelson, Barry 
Gibb, and others. But it never panned out 
When my project with Richie was done 
and I was looking around for new col- 
laborators, I remembered a song Barry 
had sent me that turned out to be a decent 
country hit for him. So I called him. 
PLAYBOY: Whom will you he calling next? 
ROGERS: Well . . . Гус not even approached 
the man, so if I’m rejected, Pm leaving 
myself wide-open, but I’m planning to talk 
with Paul McCartney. Most likely, he 
won't be interested. He may have heard 
Ruby, but he probably doesn’t know me 
from Adam. 

PLAYBOY: Does getting respect from him 
concern you? 

ROGERS: [t would be casy to accept the fact 
that he didn’t respect my music. Anyone 
can say, “I don't like it.” But it would be 
hard to accept the fact that he didn’t re- 


spect my success. That would give me a 
certain credibility going in. But if McCa 
ncy said no, that wc were into totally dif- 
ferent things and he wouldn't know where 
to begin, I'd just say, “Thanks, anyway." 
PLAYBOY: What some of your fans may not 
know is that in the Sixties and the Seven- 
ties, you were friends with many of today's 
hipper stars, including former Eagles 
drummer Don Henley. How did you mcet? 
ROGERS: I discovered a group in Texas 
called Felicity. Henley was in it. I took him 
to California, and he lived with mc for 
about six months. And I produced an 
album for the group. 

PLAYBOY: How did it turn out? 

ROGERS: It was a horrible album. In fact, 
Don has said it was the worst album he's 
ever done, and he tried to buy all the mas- 
ters back. That really hurt my feelings, be- 
cause he failed to mention that it was their 
first album and the first one Id ever pro- 
duced. I didn't know what I was doing. I 
guess it hurt because when I was so down, 
he was getting so big. And опе of the 
things I held on to when the Eagles were 
the biggest thing in this business was that 
1 helped this kid. I used to sing Henley's 
Desperado in Las Vegas lounges and say, 
“A friend of mine wrote this.” But then, 
when he got superhip acceptance by Roll- 
ing Stone, lor example, he started cutting 
me down. He didn't want to associate with 
me, though it's gotten OK since then. 11% 
the same thing Michael Murphey did to 


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me. That's always been a real sore spot, 
people I help who then feel I'm not hip 
enough to associate with. 
PLAYBOY: Despite experimentation with 
different styles, you go to great lengths to 
identify yourself as a country singer. Why? 
ROGERS: Because I am basically a country 
singer who's capable of doing other things 
I've had a lot of influences, but I can't lose 
my Texas twang. Country people are very 
real to me. ГЇЇ always cater to them first 
PLAYBOY: That's not necessarily what the 
country-music organizations think, is it? 
ROGERS: Onc усаг, some of the groups said 
the reason I hadn't won more country 
awards was that 1 wasn't really a country 
singer. What's funny is that two months 
later, when they published the amount of 
country music had made that year, 
ided to include my income іп their 
figures. I made well over 50 percent of that 
total. 


But you've never won the Coun- 
try Music Association's Entertainer of the 
Year Award 

ROGERS: Right. 

PLAYBOY: Arc you upsct about that? 
ROGERS: Well, no. But 1 guess I just don't 
understand their criteria. 1 mean, I can 
play any game they want. If an org 
tion says, that and the oth 
vou uill be the Entertainer of the Year, 
then if I do it, I kind of expect the award. 1 
read a few ycars ago where some country 
artists claimed that my kind of country 


music wasn't country anymore. Well, 
my contention is that country music is 
what country people buy 
PLAYBOY: Earlier, vou said vour success 
was also based on people's being able to. 
relate to you as an individual. What did 
you mcan? 

ROGERS: I think people need—and I'm 

uncomfortable 


with this word 
heroes. I represent two things. One is the 
importance of family life. People know that 
when they see the film 1 show at my con- 
сегіз of my wife and our new son. The 
other thing is that I guess E represent the 
ability—the possibility—in this country of 
succeeding from nothing. 

PLAYBOY: Docsn'1 it still surprise you that 
your success has been so spectacular? 
ROGERS: I'm as amazed at the degree of my 
success as anyone. Success itself doesn't 
surprise me, becau rned that Гта 
I could go into another busi- 
ness tomorrow and use the same principles 
I've applied in this one. I might not reach 
the same heights, but ГА survive. 

PLAYBOY: Your manager says that you 
make a carcer decision by asking yourself 
what Frank Sinatra would do. Is that truc? 
ROGERS: Not just Sinatra. I respect longev- 
ity. E wonder whether or not a move Гап 
considering is something the Colonel 
[Tom Parker, Elvis Presley's manager] 
would have let Elvis do. When yo 
never been at a particular plateau of suc- 
cess, you have to look to examples of 


v 


c Гуе 


а survivor 


ve 


people who've been there before you. My 
level is largely uncharted, and it’s often 
frightening, because I have no one to 
lean оп 

PLAYBOY: Is it true that you often negotiate 
your own record contracts? 

ROGERS: Гус negotiated almost all of my 
original contracts. I know what I’m will- 
ing to give, and I know what Pm willing to 
live with. I think I'm good at it, because I 
really want what's fair for both parties. If 
I make too much from a record company, 
it's no good. I heard of one particular deal 
where a major artist is actually suffering 
because his deal is so good: The more 
records he sells, the more money the com- 
pany loses because they offered him 
bonuses tied to sales; they don't even try to 
promote him anymore 

PLAYBOY: You rccently signed a long-term 
contract with RCA, but your original 
negotiations were with CBS, and a deal 
there was announced. What happened? 
ROGERS: | thought I had a deal with CBS. 
I was dealing directly with GBS Records 
president Walter Yetnikoff. We sat down 
one night in New York and talked it over. 
Negotiating with him was fun. I was 
buying a helicopter at the time, and I said, 
half-jokingly, that he'd have to get me onc 
ІГІ signed. He said OK, though I guaran- 
tec you he got value for it on the other end 
1 felt we could agree on the spot without 
waiting for the attorneys. When we were 
through, we shook hands. Then all of a 


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PLAYBOY 


sudden, I дог calls saying that I'd leaked 
an agreement I hadn't even known was 
supposed to be secret, that my deal was 
now affecting Walter's other deals. Sup- 
posedly, Neil Diamond had called and 
said, “When am I going to get my helicop- 
ter?” Later, I talked with Walter, and 
though it turned out the leak had probably 
started somewhere іп his company, he said 
that because of the publicity and the prob- 
lems, he wasn't going tolive up to the deal. 
So we didn't sign the contract. 

PLAYBOY: Is there bad blood between you? 
ROGERS: No. The cpisode is history. 
disappointed at the time, but thing 
out for the best. 

PLAYBOY: Such as а $20,000,000 RCA 
deal? 

ROGERS: More than that, really. 
major deal. 

PLAYBOY: Although you've signed up with 
RCA for many years and your popularity 
seems assured, you've been quoted as 
saying that your success couldn't last more 
than two or three ycars. Why the cau- 
tious—or negative—attitude? 

ROGERS: Yeah, one writer called it my 
“prophylactic pessimism.” Im not so 
much predicting my demise as talking 
about career life expectancy. Music runs in 
cycles. The record-buying-public’s taste 
changes about every three years. So even 
major artists who have accomplished phe- 
nomenal things, who you think will be 


I was 
work 


It was а 


around forever, just don’t last in most 
cases. That doesn't mean that Гуе given 
up. Га like to believe that I won't be back 
working the lounges, But 1 don't expect to 
stay at this peak for the rest of my life. Pm 
willing to accept that. It only gets you in 
trouble to think you're the exception. So I 
don't. I wouldn't even mind being this suc- 
cessful if it was by my own choosing. What 
would hurt would be to feel that people 
didn't care anymore. Onc thing that drives 
people in this business is that we never 
really believe that people care about us. 
It’s casy for me to accept the fact that 
people like my music and what Istand for, 
but do they really care about me, Kenny 
Rogers? When the power and the hit songs 
are gone, is there going to be someone to. 
care for me? That's what we're all looking 
for. There's not a person in the world, Pm 
sure, who wouldn't like to have what Гус 
got. But there's nothing worse than h: 
been someone and then one day not being 
someone. You have to prepare yourself for 
that. Those who don't, suffer terribly. 
PLAYBOY: It sounds as if you know some- 
thing about that. 

ROGERS: In a way. I think having my 
group, The First Edition, crumble bencath 
me when І was counting on it to take те 
through my whole life really made me 
aware of how temporary success is. It can 
Just go. Yowre never safe. [Pauses] 1 re- 
member a day when The First Edit 


still together. We'd had our sixth hit in a 
row and I thought we'd stumbled onto a 
magic success formula. I figured that day 
that our success would last forever. Five 
years later, after the group had disbanded 
and I was $65,000 in debt, I relived that 
moment and wondered where I had gone 
wrong. I've since learned that my attitude 
was unrealistic. This business is like 
mountain climbing. You don't just stay on 
the top. But if it’s been fun, you've got a 
reason to keep trying. That's what most 
people need. 
PLAYBOY: What did success mean to you 
when you started? 
ROGERS: I wanted peer approval. When I 
was with The Bobby Doyle Trio, I wanted 
to impress members of other jazz groups. 
When I went national with The New 
Christy Minstrels, I joined because they 
were an accepted group and so Га be 
accepted, (оо. The same with The First 
Edi Ironically, peer approval mat- 
tered more to me than public acceptance. 
PLAYBOY: Why ironically? 
ROGERS: As I began to realize that ] wasn't 
g to be artistically accepted, that it 
asn’t my strength or calling, I realized 
that the public was more important than 
anything. That's why today, even though 
Гус won lots of awards, I’m most gratified 
at getting the People’s Choice Award 
Today, public acclaim is first, peer approv- 
al is second and critical acceptance, 


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PLAYBOY: Aren’t you really saying that 
your creative musical abilities 
weren't appreciated either by critics or by 
your peers, you saw public acceptance as 
your answer? 

ROGERS: Not just that. Public successes last 
longer than critical successes. And I still 
feel I am a creative person. I just use the 
term loosely, because I also feel that Гуе 
sold my creativity short and allowed my 
commerciality to carry the weight 
PLAYBOY: Does that bother you? 

ROGERS: It bothers me that I don't have 
the discipline. But I've just never taken my 
talent that seriously. I've always been so 
lucky and successful, kind of joking my 
way through, half-singing. I have а decent 
voice. At one time, I had a threc-and-a- 
half-octave range and sang the high parts 
in the jazz group. But now I don’t use it, 
because I don’t have to. [f Muhammad Ali 
and Larry Holmes can beat anyone with- 
out training fully, why train? 

PLAYBOY: You can probably answer that. 
ROGERS: Of course. It saddens me to see 
myself taking the short cut. It bothers me 
that Pm not using my full potential. 
PLAYBOY: So why don’t you? 

ROGERS: I enjoy my personal life so much 
that I had to ask whether or not forfeiting 
it—which I did for many years to become 
successful—was still worth it. How much 
did I need for my ego? 

PLAYBOY: And the envelope, please? 


when 


ROGERS: OK. At this point, I’m not willing 
to give up my personal life to satisfy my 
ego. That's one reason it was so hard for 
me to stop and take the time to do this in- 
terview. I know it's important, but com- 
mitting the time was a tough decision 
PLAYBOY: We're glad you saw it our way 
ROGERS: But, truthfully, Pd rather be out 
taking pictures or playing tennis. I enjoy 
my life so much. If I get hit by a truck 
tomorrow, I’ve had a great life. 

PLAYBOY: Despite your rationale, a lot of 
critics dismiss you for failing to challenge 
the current limits of pop. It’s almost as if 
they want to wish your success on someone 
they consider more deserving. How do vou 
react to that? 

ROGERS: It’s not as if what you're saving is 
a big surprise. Pm not thinking, You 
mean, not everyone out there loves me? 
But I feel I have a choice. 1 can succumb 
to those pressures and try to please the 
critics or I can be honest about who I am 
and what I present. What 1 present is who 
I am. Pleasing critics is not why I got in 
this business in the first place! I know I’m 
not a purist in anything, and that offends 
most critics. I've also always said that this 
is a business, and that seems to take some 
of the magic out of it. If anything, Pm 
beyond the pum of pop criticism. But 
that's OK with me. Yct critics secm to rc- 
sent me for not really having to work too 
hard for my commercial success. And to 
tell you the truth, I don't put that great an 


efort into it. I don't have the problems of 
most entertainers. 1 probably don't spend 
more than 25 nights a year away from 
home. I fly home from almost every show. 
PLAYBOY: On vour private jet 

ROGERS: Right. I had only onc tour this 
year when I couldivt be back on the farm 
in Georgia every night. 

PLAYBOY: To judge from your press, it 
would seem you're better known for your 
material success than for your music. 
ROGERS: What сїзє is there to write about 
me? The press necds sensational topics. I 
don't run around on my wife. I don't drink 
or do drugs. I know I have at times fed in- 
formation about my moncy and posses- 
sions to the press in order to get their 
attention. And I know that I can't expect 
to be upset when their writing about me is 
no longer in my interest. I don’t necessari- 
ly like it, but I live with it. Yet even 
papers like The Star and the National En- 
quirer have been very nice to me. I've seen 
only one or two situations where they've 
put just enough truth in a story so it could 
he twisted to the point that I asked, “Why 
did you do that?” 

PLAYBOY: For instance? 

ROGERS: The ex-husband of my wife, 
Marianne, is a close friend. He runs my 
movie-production company. It’s to our 
credit that we can all be friends, under the 
circumstances. But some papers have 


PLAYBOY 


74 


made a big, dirty deal out of nothing. 
PLAYBOY: So clear it up. What really goes 
on? 

ROGERS: [Laughs] That's exactly what the 
papers said. We һауе a guesthouse on our 
property іп Los Angeles. Marianne’s ex is 
building his own place and staying in our 
guesthouse until it's complete, Simple. But 
the headlines were ““MARIANNES EX-HUSBAND. 
Moves iN!” Who needs all those rumors? 
PLAYBOY: Care to try a few more for size? 
ROGERS: Go ahead. 

105 been said that during The 
, the band had to 
play Las Vegas for free because of gam- 
bling debts you had incurred. 

ROGERS: Oh, no! The most I’ve ever lost 
gambling was $2500, and I almost had a 
heart attack. Pm not a gambler, but I 
gamble within my means. And I defy апу- 
опе to come forth with information con- 
firming that rumor. 

PLAYBOY: Here's another: Kenny Rogers 
had a big hit with The First Edition’s aci 
rock song Jus! Dropped In (To See What 
Condition My Condition Was In). Тһеге- 
fore, Kenny Rogers must do drugs. 
ROGERS: 1 have not done any drugs in ten 
ycars. None whatsoever. And what I did 
before was nominal. I probably smoked 
marijuana ten times. And those were very 
controlled situations. When I was with 
The Bobby Doyle Trio, I sometimes took а 
Dexedrine or something. But that was 
because I was into golf! We used to work 
until three in the morning, and the golf 
course was so crowded that the only time I 
could play was at six Ам. Since I had re- 
hearsal at ll a.m, Га take half a Dexamyl 
and run around the course—bam, bam, 
bam. I did it for three months. I think my 
teeth are ground down a quarter inch from 
all that. As for alcohol, I don't drink, 
either. Pve never had Scotch in my body. 
It's not a moral thing. There are very few 
things I frown on. I just don't like abuse. 
Beingable to control what you do is crucial. 
PLAYBOY: But you did take LSD, didn't 
you, around the time the band had that 
һи? 

ROGERS: It was mescáline. It was ап in- 
teresting experience. We took too much. 
Maybe it was a good thing we did, because 
I can see how people can get involved with 
the stuff. The first cight hours were unbe- 
lievable. 1 remember listening to Cat 
Stevens singing Sad Lisa, and I was hear- 
ing all kinds of things Га never heard on a 
record before! “The next eight hours were 
very frightening. Looking back, Гтп glad I 
did it. Now I have a certain expertise to 
talk with my children about it. And the 
ellects scared me away from doing more. 
PLAYBOY: Having disposed of the rumors, 
shall we go back to what the papers love to 
write about—your money? 

ROGERS: As I said, there's not much else to 
writc about, Гуе put rest on the 
subject in interviews, but it invariably 
comes up. 

PLAYBOY: Would you rather not discuss it? 
ROGERS: I have nothing to hide. It’s just 


that Га like to believe that there's more to 
me than that. I mean, I know there is, but 
I guess I haven't yet found a way to bring 
it to the surface. Management has always 
told me to play down the subject of money. 
But if I do talk about it, it’s not to brag; I 
just want to share a genuine enthusiasm 
for a country that provides me—and 
everyone else—with the opportunity to 
make it. I'm not а flag waver. It’s just im- 
portant that people know what’s happened 
to me in the past seven years. They don’t 
need all the details, just a sense of what's 
possible. And that Гуе done it without 
stepping on people. I defy you to name one 
person Гуе done that to. 

PLAYBOY: All right. We just happen to— 
lave a list of people? They're not 
ex-wives, are they? 

PLAYBOY: Just kidding. But will you reveal 
how much money you make? 

ROGERS: How much money I make is not 
what's crucial. It’s only a way of gauging 
success. My concern is not how much I 
can make in a year, anyway. It’s how many 
n survive. But half the fun of all 
this i is trying to make more. 

PLAYBOY: Is that why you've branched out 


“I don't think there's any 
question that my job broke up 
all three marriages.” 


into selling Western clothes? 

ROGERS: I’m trying to follow Arnold Palm- 
er's lead. He makes a tremendous living 
because he’s got such good endorsements. 
People pay attention to value. So as long 
as I associate myself with quality goods, 
my name keeps its value. 

PLAYBOY: Have you been asked to endorse 
any interesting schlock? 

ROGERS: I cannot tell you how many things 
I could have gotten into: key chains, match- 
books, earrings with my face on them. 
Some of the stuff has been incredible. 
PLAYBOY: What was the first thing. you 
bought when you had enough money to 
buy anything you wanted? 

ROGERS: A house. I enjoy investing in land. 
I guess it's because my parents never 
owned any. My father once told me that if 
he had made note payments instead ofrent 
payments, he could have owned the entire 
block we lived on in Houston. It was very 
depressing to him. 

PLAYBOY: The De Laurentiis house in 
Beverly Hills cost you $14,500,000 and has 
been called the most expensive residential 
purchase ever. What was its attraction? 
ROGERS: I like it. I thought it would be a 
great investment. By the it’s called 
the Knoll. I figure since I paid that much, 
I don't have to call it the De Laurentiis 
house anymore. 

PLAYBOY: Do you get asked for handouts? 
ROGERS: Yeah. A lot of people write to me 


and say, “I’m having a lot of trouble. If 
you'll just loan me $100,000, ГІ pay you 
back and give you five percent interest. I 
can get it, Mr. Rogers.” One lady asked 
me to buy her a house and have it deco- 
rated. A moderately priced, say $200,000, 
home іп Los Angeles would have been suf- 
ficient for her. She wrote with what seemed 
like honest intent and expectation, as if she 
really thought I might consider doing it 
That amazes me. I would never, ever con- 
sider asking that of anyone. 

PLAYBOY: What about your employees, 
who depend on you for their living—do 
you ever feel financially used by them? 
ROGERS: It would be foolish and naive not 
to assume that they say, “As long as he's 
healthy, Гуе got a job." But that’s not un- 
reasonable. I may be a money machine, 
but I don’t feel like one. In fact, my rela- 
tionship with my employees is kind of pa- 
triarchal. 1 enjoy it. They care about me 
because | care about them. I often sit 
down with individuals in the organization 
who are having personal problems and 
counsel them. 

PLAYBOY: To wrap up the subject of money, 
would you say that having itis worth what 
you've had to do for it? 

ROGERS: There arc lots of pressures. I have 
200 people to support, a residential crisis 
to eliminate, critics, etc. Still, it's worth it. 
I have brought happiness into lots of 
people’s lives. But what’s more important 
is that some of my happiest times were 
when I was absolutely broke and Mari- 
anne and I didn’t know what we were 
going to do for money. A $50 rent increase 
was traumatic. But we lived from day to 
day, and I learned that moncy and success 
were not the most important ingredients 
was having a re- 
lationship that was willing to give back 10 
me as much as I was willing to put in. 

: What if you lost it all? 

ROGERS: It could bc harder than Marianne 
or I realize if all of a sudden it were gone. 
But I know we'd adjust. That's a strong 
point of my marriage. Marianne was with 
me when I had nothing. She's with me for 
the right reasons. She could never haye 
anticipated anything like this happening. 
When we met, my hair was down to my 
shoulders; I wore a gold earring and 
bronzed sunglasses. On that day, I was 
wearing a Levi’s jacket with mink tails 
hanging off the sleeves. She couldn't have 
known. 

PLAYBOY: What do you get from Marianne 
that is so important? 

ROGERS: What I look for, and what she 
offers, is consistency. It’s the single word 
that sums me up. I hate turmoil and con- 
flict. I do everything in my power to avoid 
them. I like to know that when I get up in 
the morning, if I haven't done anything to 
bring on trouble, I will get a smile; I will 
start my day off properly. And if I don't do 
anything wrong that day, I’m nor going to 
go through any garbage, OK? When 
Marianne gets up in the morning, she's in 
a good mood. She doesn't put me through 
any hassles unless I deserve them. And as 


long as I do the things I tell her I will and 
give to her what I say I will, she has no 
right to bitch. She agrees. That's what I like. 
PLAYBOY: Arc you neat around the house? 
ROGERS: I'm the Felix Unger of The Odd. 
Couple. Y drop my clothes on the Поог-- 
but I have to pick them up sooner or later. 
In fact, I go around behind guests, picking 
up napkins they don't use, wiping off the 
tables, throwing stuff in the garbage. 
PLAYBOY: What went wrong with your 
three previous attempts at matrimony? 
ROGERS: Looking back, I think the failures 
were 85 percent my fault. If success—and 
I'm not talking about dollars but about 
professional acceptance—had been less 
important, if Га been willing to give to 
Janice, Jean and Margo what I'm willing 
to give to Marianne, I could probably 
have stayed with any of the three others. 
But success шау morc important than my 
marriages. I wanted to get out of Houston 
and stop being just a local musician. When 
I was married to Margo, I went on a solid 
nine-month tour with The New Christy 
Minstrels because I'd be playing on a 
national level. It was a crucial move for 
me. Margo didn't want me to go, and 
being away that long was unfair. 

PLAYBOY: But you went anyway. 

ROGERS: I thought it was wrong for any 
wife to Ксер her husband from doing what 
he had to do in his job to his full capacity. 
I’ve always believed that whatever I earn 
is half my wife's. I just don't want my abil- 
ity to earn to be hampered. Unfortunately, 
some women test relationships. They say, 
“I don't want you to do this.” And if you 
do it anyway, it’s because you don’t love 
them, not because it’s right or wrong. I 
hate that. A wife who really cares will try 
to help her man reach his full potential 
as long as he understands that he can’t 
totally ignore her needs 

I don’t think there’s any question that 
my job broke up all three marriages 
know I didn’t beat my wives; they didn’t 
hit me. They were all good people. They 
had to be special for me to marry them. [ 
just wasn't willing to give myself in the 
way I am now. I can't blame anyone else 
for my lack of ability. 

PLAYBOY: What do you think you've found 
this time around? 

ROGERS: What Marianne and I have that | 
lacked with my three other wives—and, 
again, it’s partly my fault—is communica- 
tion. We've talked things over for hours. 
We've probably raised our voices at each 
other maybe five times in cight years, and 
that may be overstating the case. 

When I met Marianne, I had just gone 
through a transformation. 1 was becoming 
more comfortable with myself. I remember 
I wrote a song when The First Edition 
broke up called Sweet Music Man. Barbi 
Benton had asked me to write it for her, 
and it was done from a woman's point of 
view. The last verse is, “You try to stay 
young, but the songs you've sung to so 
many people have begun to come back on 
you.” Writing that was like a purging. I 


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realized exactly what had been wrong with 
my life. I was trying to be something I 
could never be. I was trying to be young 
forever. The next morning, I took the ear- 
ring out of my ear. I took off all my leather 
clothes. I went from a fabricated situation 
into which I was trying to fit to one in 
which I was comfortable being my- 
self. I realized that if I couldn't be myself, 
it wasn't worth it anymore. I stopped 
grasping. 
PLAYBOY: For a guy whose image involves 
family and traditional values, it's surpris- 
ing that you've been married four times. 
ROGERS: Yeah. Maybe it goes back to my 
parents, who taught me a sense of respon- 
sibility and that for every act—including 
sex—there are repercussions. That was al- 
ways my problem, in a way. 1 could never 
really get involved with someone without 
marrying her. Consequently, I’m оп my 
fourth marriage. My whole sexual thing in 
junior high and high school was the build- 
up, the build-up, the build-up. I enjoyed 
the petting, the conversation, the sceing if 
I could, and then, when I knew I could, 
the teasing. But I could never bring myself 
to go all the way. I loved the romance, but 
I was worried about the repercussions, the 
pregnancy. Well, maybe not worried, but I 
felt a moral obligation to stop short. 

My first wife, Janice, was my first affair. 
I remember when I got married to her, I 
said to my dad, “Boy, I'll be able to have 
sex every night!” He said, “Sooner or 
later, you'll have to get out of bed." It was 
the hardest thing to understand. Now I 
realize he was just telling me that sex is 
important in a marriage only if it's bad. 
"Then it's a major event. If it's good, it 
takes care of itself. 
PLAYBOY: Would you leave a marriage 
because the sex was bad? 
ROGERS: I don't know. I wonder if you 
have control over thosc things. Maybe I'm 
easily satisfied, because it's never been that 
bad. I feel like Woody Allen: The worst I 
ever had was wonderful. [Laughs] 
PLAYBOY: Did you have groupies as a high 
school musician? 
ROGERS: So to speak. That was half the 
fun. The other half was the social accept- 
ance. But 1 had the greatest ploy in the 
world for getting women. 
PLAYBOY: What was that? 
ROGERS: I was the singer. Every time we'd 
play at a school, I'd get its yearbook, take 
it home, look through it and find a girl I 
liked. Then I would pick out a guy who 
was popular—they listed those things— 
and call that girl. I'd say, “Well, this guy 
is a good friend of mine and he asked me to 
call you.” Now, even if she didn't know 
him, she knew who he was. It gave me in- 
stant credibility. Then, after I'd dated her 
a few times, I'd say, “I never met that guy 
before," but it didn't matter, because by 
then, I was already in the door. 
PLAYBOY: In the door but not in the door. 
ROGERS: In the door but not locked. I had 


to have some form of credibility. I couldn't 
just call up and say, “Hi, Im Kenny 
Rogers.” 

PLAYBOY: What about recent groupies? 
ROGERS: At the risk of disappointing you 
and everyone else, 1 never got into them. 
Sex is a very personal thing. I just cannot 
get sexually involved with someone I don't 
care about. I’ve had opportunities, women 
coming to the door in hotels. One night, 
Marianne was with me. This was before 
we started having hotel security. 1 had 
been telling her how boring it had been on 
the road. I said, "I do my show, I go to 
bed, I get up, I play tennis." Just then, 
three girls knocked on the door and yelled, 


"We're coming in whether you like it or 
not" So Marianne said, “It sounds very 
boring out here." Groupies are like any- 
thing else. If you're susceptible to them, 
they're there. 

PLAYBOY: Speaking of family, what was 
your relationship like with your father? 
ROGERS: My dad had the greatest sense оГ 
humor of anyone I’ve ever met. I really en- 
joyed being around him. He was such a 
sweet, sweet man. Now I feel so sorry that. 
he didn't accomplish the things he would 
have liked to. But through it all, he kept 
his sense of humor. Late in his life, the only 
job he could get was as a watchman. He 
was 60 and had to wear a gun and it scared 


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PLAYBOY 


him to death. That was about the time The 
Andy Griffith Show was on TV. Andy's dep- 
uty, Barney Fife, would never put bullets 
in his gun. Well, my dad would go to work 
and carry his bullets in his pocket. And as 
he left for work, all the kids would lean up 
against the window and yell, “Go get em, 
Barney!” We teased him and he took it. It 
was such a warm thing. 

PLAYBOY: We've read that you did soi 
thing unusual at his funeral. 

ROGERS: What made our relationship nice 
toward the end was that I had the money 
to indulge the games we played. One game 
he especially enjoyed was seeing, in a 
good-natured way, how much money he 
could get from his kids when they went to 
visit. Once, my older brother Lelan had 
flown in from Los Angeles, rented a car 
and driven 110 miles to see my father. He 
took my parents out to dinner two or three 
days in a row. And as he was leaving, my 
father kind of stuck his hand out, like а 
maitre d’. That burned Lelan. He said, 
“It’s really upsetting to me that all you 
eyer seem to want from me is money. І 
don't know whether you realize it or not, 
but it cost mc $300 to fly here, I rented а 
car for а weck—I have about 5600 in- 
vested in this trip. But you want cash. 
Would you rather I'd just sent the money 
and didn't come?” Му dad stepped back 
and said, mock-seriously, “Oh, Le 
please don't make me choose!” It was so 
great. Lelan died laughing. And that was 
the moment I really learned to appreciate 
my dad's humor. He played the game with 
me, too. I always gave him moncy, though 
not ever big amounts. So when he died and 
was in his casket, I walked up, took a dol- 
lar out of my pocket, rolled it up and stuck 
it in his pocket and said, “This is the last 
dollar you're ever going to get out of me.” 
It was a very < moment. 

PLAYBOY: How do you feel about death? 
ROGERS: Гуе always been afraid of being 
old, alone and broke. I don't think that 
will happen at this point. But premature 
death . . . I don't like to dwell on it. I also 
am wary because I’m a public figure, and 
I kecp thinking about Mark Chapman. 
You know, һе didn't care about the reper- 
cussions. It was his big chance to go down 
in history. That kind of thing is very frighi- 
ening to me. It's very real when you're a 
public figure. If you're in the top 60 and 
coming up, it doesn't matter, But when 
you get into the top ten, top 15, top 20, all 
of a sudden it matters. 

PLAYBOY: Let's talk for a moment about 
your children. You’re often photographed 
with your new son, Christopher, and 
you've seen a lot of your daughter, Carole, 
by your first marriage, to Janice. But 
there's also a Kenny Rogers, Jr., the son of 
your marriage to Margo. How is your rela- 
tionship with him? 

ROGERS: I understand he lives with Margo 
at home. I think Margo is more bitter to- 
ward me than Janice or Jean. She was with 
me during the main struggling period of 
my career, and we sacrificed our marriage 


so that I could be successful. I know Mar- 
go well enough to know that as long as 
Kenny lives in the same house with her, 
she will never allow him to see me or have 
a relationship with me. 

PLAYBOY: Why? 

ROGERS: For all of her good points, she’s a 
vindictive person. That's the only way she 
can hurt me. I’m sure she doesn’t sit up at 
night wondering how to hurt me, of 
course, but I do believe that if she really 
cared about our son, she would allow him 
to havea relationship with me. But I know 
the truth, if only because she has the same 
attitude about her daughter and her сх- 
husband. I just have to assume that one 
day it will instinctively be important for 
my son to find out what I'm all about. 
PLAYBOY: You mcan you haven't spoken to 
him at all? 

ROGERS: No. 

PLAYBOY: Well, he must be able to pick up 
interviews and read how you fecl about the 
situation. 

ROGERS: Ycah. It's not like he's got a for- 
eign name, either. But I had what I think 
were 12 good years with him, and I believe 


"IL ат basically narrow 
emotionally. I cut off the 
highs so I can avoid the lows. 
It's self-protection.” 


its the first three or four where you lay 
your foundation. "That was even prior to 
The New Christy Minstrels. So I can't 
help believing that one day, l'll get a 
chance to tell my side of the story. 
PLAYBOY: Let's change the subject and talk 
about your film career. Your opening anal- 
ogy about cards’ running in streaks scems 
to apply there also. Your first two films, 
The Gambler and Coward of the County, 
were big winners on television. Тһе 
third, Six Pack, didn't fare too well as а 
theatrical film. Why not? 

ROGERS: Probably, the truth is that 1 
too caught up in my moral responsi 
and cut the guts out of it. 

PLAYBOY: What do you mean? 
ROGERS: I cut the language way back be- 
cause ] felt it was a kids’ movie. Six Pack 
was originally more like The Bad News 
Bears, maybe even stronger. But I have a 
responsibility to the people who sec my 
films, so my input probably made it less 
commercial and, ultimately, less valuable. 
PLAYBOY: Did you lose money? 

ROGERS: We needed $20,000,000 to break 
and we got it. In that respect, it 
wasn't a failure. It just didn't have the im- 
pact of other things Г'уе done. 
PLAYBOY: Are you going to quit tampeı 
with scripts? 

ROGERS: No. 1 like it. I have something to 
offer. The two directors Гус worked with 


ng 


will tell you that. And I do have to make 
sure that any script I accept doesn’t 
have things in that blatantly offend or 
scare me. 

PLAYBOY: Your manager has said that he 
sees you as having the opportunity to be a 
sort of John Wayne character in films. Do 
you agree? 

: As long as I don’t get into a fla 
situation. Pm not good at it and I 
t's hypocritical. This is an incredible 
country, but once someone starts waving 
the flag and singing America too much, he 
starts losing credibility. It's the old pro- 
test-too-much theory. Frankly, for me to 
do movies in which I didn't have some 
weaknesses would be a problem. I like 
guys who have flaws and somehow over- 
come them. There's a place for what I do 
as an actor. I just try not to kid myself 
about my abilities. 

PLAYBOY: Would you consider a challeng- 
ing role in a film if it were a meaty charac- 
ter part—one that stretched those acting 
abilities even if it weren't a starring role? 
ROGERS: The problem is monetary. I can't 
айога to take time off to do something that 
doesn’t compensate me as much as what I 
can make otherwise. And it makes no 
sense if it takes my career nowherc. 
PLAYBOY: So money is the operative factor? 
ROGERS: Absolutely. 

PLAYBOY: You place so much emphasis on 
money that it's almost startling. How did 
you get so hungry? 

ROGERS: Га be kidding you if I didn’t say 
it’s really my own ego that needs accept- 
elf means nothing. But 
arianne and my family 
security down the line. Its depressing to 
scc older people on Social Security who 
didn’t prepare for their future, by choice or 
accident. I don’t know; maybe my hunger 
came from having three sisters and four 
brothers. It was always “You kids get out- 
side.” Never “Kenny”—or “Kenneth,” as 
I was called until I was 18—'*come here.” 
My mother worked nights and my father 
took extra jobs to get me the money 
to go to the University of Houston. I was 
the first person in my family to finish high 
school, much less go to college. So when I 
чий college to become a musician, my par- 
ents couldn't understand my motivation. 
To them, musicians were alcoholics who 
worked in bars playing guitars for quarters 
and dimes. I was the family's ray of hope. 
My older brother and my sisters had to 
quit school to help with the income. So 
maybe I just put a lot of pressure on my 
self. Success became inordinately impor- 
tant. 

PLAYBOY: One thing we've noticed in talk- 
ing with you is that your emotional range 
rarely fluctuates. You talk about your 
estranged son and your new record album 
in the same tonc of voice. Why? 

ROGERS: I've said this from day опе: I am 
basically narrow emotionally. I cut off the 
highs so І can avoid the lows. It's self 
protection. Having those incredible rushes 
at moments like winning Grammys and 


BENSON&HEDGES 


Rich enough to be called deluxe. 
Regular and Menthol. 


PLAYBOY 


Entertainer of the Year awards is not 
worth the depression Гуе seen other enter- 
tainers go through worrying over them. 
PLAYBOY: Other entertainers? You mean 
you've never had depressions? 

ROGERS: Ї can't tell you when in my life 
I've ever been depressed. I'm very future 
oriented. The past doesn’t mean anything 
to me other than a collection of experi- 
ences that I can draw on to alter the fu- 
ture. Most people who get depressed are 
people who live in the past. I’m the eternal 
optimist. I live in the future. 

PLAYBOY: Come on. Everyone gets de- 
pressed. 

ROGERS: Never. You can ask my mother. I 
have been . . . stymied from time to time, 
when I didn't know how Т was going to 
move to the next plateau, but I knew I 
would find a way. It was part of the game; 
and part of the fun of the game has always 
been trying to find out what I need to do to 
get out of stalemates, 

PLAYBOY: Are you sure the reason you'll 
admit only to being occasionally “sty- 
mied" isn’t that you're simply unwilling to 
let other people know how you're feeling? 
ROGERS: Absolutely not. It’s not that at all. 
I’ve told you more than I’ve ever told most 
people. I also know that what I say will be 
literally transcribed, so the minute I avoid 
answering a question, it looks worse than if 
Га answered it. Pve always believed that if 
you don’t hide anything, there's nothing to 
dig for. So ask me anything you want, with 
any tone you want, and if you make me 
mad enough, maybe you'll get an emotion 
Tm not used to. 

PLAYBOY: Does our persistence on the emo- 
tional issue annoy you? 

ROGERS: No. I know the reasons you're 
asking. I know what your editors would 
prefer to have me say. It's just not me. Un- 
fortunately, Pm a pretty bori happy 
guy. That's as honest as 1 can be. There 
are lots of people who will say, “He gets 
up, plays tennis all day, naps, goes to work 
and sings his songs and goes to sleep. 
What a boring life. He could be doing 
drugs and having lots of girls." It's just not 
something I’m interested in. So I apologize 
that Pm not Mick Jagger with all these in- 
credible things to expose. Pm just happy, 
and that’s what amazes most people. 
PLAYBOY: What do you think most people 
find hardest to accept about you? 

ROGERS: That I’m happy! That I really en- 
joy every day of my life! People say that 
even my high moments are guarded; they 
say, “You’ve done all these things and still 
don’t get excited?” The truth is, yes, I get 
excited. Dottie West and І had this same 
conversation the night before we were up 
for a Grammy. She said, “Му hands are 
sweating and I'm a nervous wreck. Why 
aren't you nervous?" I said, “Dottie, if we 
get real excited about winning and then 
don’t win, it's going to be very depressing. 
I say, ‘Let’s go out and see if we win or not 
and then deal with the emotions.’ ” Getting 
the Grammy is a very nice moment; but 
it’s certainly not something worth my 


sweating over and then having to feign dis- 
appointment or elation if I lose or win. 

PLAYBOY: What is worth sweating over? 

ROGERS: When Christopher was in the hos- 
pital, sick, just after he was born, it was 
very, very upsetting. Even more than that. 
I know I pretended to be in complete con- 
trol at all times, because that was my char- 
acter, But the truth is that I was very 
nervous. I was with him day and night. 
And I feel sort of guilty when I say things 
like this, because it sounds like I don’t care 
about my two other children. But it’s not 
that at all. They’re just past that stage of 
vulnerability. Christopher isn’t. When I 
sit onstage and watch that movie of him 
that I show each night at my concerts, 1 
can't tell you how frequently those 
thoughts go through my head. I’m sure it’s 


„a typical father attitude. Anyone would 


say that. But I tell you, if anything hap- 
pened to that child, because he is such a 
special, special child, then I don’t know 
how I would handle it. Then you would 
see the side of me that everybody wants to 
see. But I would hate to think I had to do 
that to show that side. Yeah, there are 
things that touch me, but how much I let 


“Т apologize that Гт not 
Mick Jagger with all these 
incredible things to expose. 
Пт just happy, and that’s 
what amazes most people.” 


them touch me. [Pauses to regain compo- 
sure] I just don't sce any sense in running 
this incredible range of emotions. I don’t 
need depressions and the highs are so tem- 
porary. I feel the way I present myself is 
what Pim really all about. If that’s not ex- 
citing enough, then it’s not. Truthfully, the 
reason I have trouble getting major arti- 
cles done about me is that I'm a pretty 
boring guy. However, I think that to be as 
as I am and to have done what Гус 
done is pretty incredible. It gives hope to 
other boring people—it tells them that i 
they get out there and bust their asses, it 
can happen to them. 

PLAYBOY: So you're at peace with yourself. 
ROGERS: Very much. I guess the single 
thing that bothers me in my life is that ev- 
erything has been so perfect. I've always 
been taught that sooner or later, it has to 
balance out. scares me. [Pauses] 
Maybe perfect is the wrong word. Im just 
saying that everything has been so good— 
my marriage, my great son, my monetary 
situation, my professional standing—that 
I wonder where the equalizing blow will 
come from. I look over my shoulder and 
say, "What will it be?” I look at the film of 
Christopher and say, “Please, God, not 
that!” Thal scares me. "That's the thing. 


My cross to bear is wondering when I'm 
going to have to pay for all the goodness 
Туе acquired. 

PLAYBOY: OK, change of mood. Here’s a 
key question we almost forgot to ask: Do 
you sing in the shower? 

ROGERS: No, I don’t. I seldom sing other 
than onstage or in the studio. Music has 
been my life for so long, it would be like 
tennis players’ playing a few sets for fun. 
Well, evidently they do: Bjorn Borg came 
to my house and hit a few with me for my 
birthday. It was very nice of him. But I 
said, “I hope you don't expect me to go to 
your house and sing for you on your birth- 
day.” [Laughs] 

I love singing, but I’m pretty used to 
having my band behind me, so I ıhink I 
sound pretty sick without them. But 
there's one interesting incident I do re- 
member. I went to Kentucky governor 
John Y. Brown's birthday party іп L.A. A 
dozen of us were sitting around a table, 
and a piano player was playing. I'd had a 
very bad throat for about two weeks, and 
Га had to cancel three shows because of it. 
Suddenly, the pianist starts playing Lady. 
So 1 hum it to myself just to sce if my 
throat is any good. Gradually, I start sing- 
ing sofily, and Phyllis George Brown, 
who's to my right, starts singing, too. I’m 
getting more confidence, but with Phyllis 
singing, I can't quit. Then everybody at 
the table starts singing. So 1 do the 
whole song. Afterward, Phyllis says, 
"You've got to do She Believes in Me. It’s 
my favorite song." The piano player starts 
in, and he actually plays the right changes, 
the way my band does. So I sing it, too. 
Marianne was stunned. It was so unlike 
me. 

PLAYBOY: Aside from such surprise inspira- 
tion, you seem to be very pragmatic in 
your approach to your singing and your 
personal life. But the one thing you 
haven't really talked about is an emotional 
connection to the music. What do you feel 
for the music that apparently moves so 
many people? What do you fecl as you 
wait to go onstage? 
ROGERS: It never ceases to excite me. 
There have been nights when I felt like 
doing anything but going onstage. But 
once I start down that aisle, the game has 
begun. I get an electric charge. When I hit 
the first steps —boom! There's something 
about that. I walk up the steps and turn 
around and everybody's clapping and 
standing there. For me. And thats what 
it's all about. Aside from the money. 
That's why I did it when there was no 
money. It’s tremendously satisfying. Its 
everything I’ve ever wanted. 
PLAYBOY: So what do your friends give 
you—the man who already has cvery- 
thing? 
ROGERS: I enjoy little gifts. Last усаг, 
Marianne was at a loss about what to get 
me for Christmas. So I said, “I know it’s a 
dumb thing, honey, but for God's sake, get 
me some ties.”” 

El 


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$ЕХ ІМ ТНЕ АСЕ 
OF NEGOTIATION 


article By LAURENCE SHAMES 


CALLIT the negotiator's tango. 

It's the mating dance of choice these 
days, the perfect step for a pragmatic 
and businesslike era, and it goes some- 
thing like this: Boy approaches girl (or 
vice versa) and the ritual begins. As the 
music heats up, the pair lock eyes, 
exchange come-hither glances and 


proceed to state their terms as they 
glide across the floor. Commitment? she 
purrs, warm but inaccessible until she 
has her answer. So soon? he replies, 
sidling nearer. For пош, let's call it se- 
rious intent. His partner pouts, consid- 
ers, moves on to other issues. What 
about privacy? What about fidelity? And 


ILLUSTRATION EY DENNIS MUKAI 


the bedroom is like 

the board room these 
days—to make a merger, 
you've got to talk your 
way to the bottom line 


PLAYBOY 


what about separale vacations? And when 
will you be ready to leave this city and really 
lay down roots somewhere? 

And so it tends to go when men and 
women try to get together in this age of 
negotiation. They talk and then they do it 
or they talk and then they don't—but 
cither way, they talk. They haggle over 
ground rules before the game begins. They 
spell out needs and limits, rules and 
taboos. They make notes, weigh the upside 
and the downside. These days, people 
seem not so much to fall in love or into bed 
as to arrive there, in the sense that you ar- 
rive at a solution after a long series of cal- 
culations or consultations. 

Not that the current style of intergender 
bargaining has been evolving іп a vacuum. 
The tango is, in fact, just one of many 
dances that people are doing during this 
negotiator’s heyday. Have you looked at 
the paperback best-seller list lately? The 
hottest attractions in that traveling medi- 
cine show are tomes elucidating the fine 
art of getting to yes. Negotiation is the last 
word in helping us poor, suffering mortals 
get control of our lives; it transcends and 
supersedes all previous last words on the 
subject, from the golden rule right up to 
Winning Through Intimidation. Armed 
with good negotiating skills, none of us 
need ever again be cringing schlemiels 
capitulating to threats or high-pressure 
tactics. The shining ideal of 
bargaining—that miraculous system 
whereby parties with diametrically op- 
posed interests both get what they want 
and come out loving each other besides— 
is within the grasp of anyone with $3.95 to 
spend and a little spare reading time 
in the john. 

Which is all well and good if the nego- 
tiations in question pertain to convincing 
your tightfisted boss that you are due for a 
raise or persuading members of a terrorist 
organization that they really should let the 
women and children leave the airport. But 
are those same techniques—which are, 
let's face it, a species of manipulation— 
really applicable to the way people run 
their love lives? Tessa Albert Warschaw, 
author of Winning by Negotiation, does not 
blush to tell us that they are. "If you 
approached negotiations for sex, love and 
romance as you approach a business nego- 
tiation,” she writes, “you would soon find 
yourself making better “deal 

Deals? ЯА ту sordid interpretation, 
but that word has always suggested to me 
the exchange of a certain amount of cash 
for certain services rendered. I'd thought 
that courtship and seduction, not to men- 
Чоп love, called for a somewhat tenderer 
or at least more tactful vocabulary. But 
you can't fight the paperback best-seller 
list. Irrespective of how much wisdom or 
passion or even humanity resides in the 
negotiator's approach to matters of the 
heart and the glands, the fact remains that 
it is a strategy more and more in favor. 


Someday soon, you may need an agent to 
negotiate your sex life. 
. 

Гуе been feeling like I'm at a goddamn 
job interview” is the way a buddy of mine 
describes a couple of dates he's been оп 
lately. “Why did 1 bother with the dinners, 
the show tickets, all the schlepping and ех- 
pense? I could just as easily have stopped 
by their offices and dropped off résumés. 
‘Those women didn’t want to gaze into my 
eyes, make witty chatter and sce if bells 
would ring. No, they wanted 10 get right 
down to my qualifications. Was I truly 
available? Could I deal with a woman who 
had a demanding career? I hardly Anew 
those women. I hadn't been to bed with 
them; Га barely kissed them. So how the 
hell should I know if I could deal with 
them at all?” 

Well, I don't know how he should know, 
but something tells me that both of us had 
better find out, because with the recently 
changed rhythms of the mating dance, 
questions like that are getting asked up 
front with greater and greater frequency. 

“Your real world is a giant negotiating 
table,” says Herb Cohen, author оГ You 
Сап Negotiate Anything, “and like it or not, 
you're a participant.” It would behooye us 
all, then, to be adept participants, be- 
cause, says Cohen, “how you handle these 
encounters can determine not only 
whether you prosper but whether you can 
enjoy a full, pleasurable, satisfying life.” 

Has it always been that way? Back in 
the days when courtship moved slower, 
getting to know each other and getting 
to bed were both somewhat subtler 
processes—less a matter of debate than of 
accruing intuition and eroding resistance. 
Then, in the Sixties, people started taking 
short cuts to the boudoir; if the sex was 
good, they’d get to know each other even- 
tually; if the sex was bad, what did it mat- 
ter, anyway? These days, with life (and, 
especially, women's lives) busier than ever, 
pcople are again looking for short cuts 


but this time, what пе looking for 


versation is, What's the deal I here? V е 
100 harried to let the mysteries unfold in 
their own sweet time; we've grown too 
cautious to procced with the mysteries still 
intact. So we resort to that most efficient 
but least romantic form of conversation, 
the negotiator's Q. and A. 

I recently spoke with a woman friend 
about where this drive to be so bus 
nesslike was really coming from. I sug- 
gested that it could, in fact, be scen as a 
sort of neoprudishness, a sly new socially 
sanctioned way for women to say no. This 
pissed her off just enough that I knew it 
was at least partly right. But only partly. 

"Look," she told me, “I’m 29 years old 
and Гуе had my share of recreational sex. 
I have no regrets about that, but I don’t 
have a hell of a lot to show for it, either. 


What I do have to feel good about are the 
things Гус worked out for myself. 1 have a 
career that takes 50 or 60 hours of my 
week. I have a gym I go to and friends I 
hang out with. I have a nice routine, and if 
I'm gonna disrupt it to take a lover, I want 
some assurance that it's going to count (ог 
something. 

TI let you іп on a little secret: It is 
different for women. I'm not saying my 
hormones go haywire every time I take 
someone to my bed, but it does гИе me; my 
feelings do get yanked around in certain 
ways. And I’m not willing to put myself 
through that unless there's the chance of 
somcthing happening that's appropriate to 
my 29-year-old selí—and if you think I'm 
talking about marriage or, at least, living 
together, you're right. So I have no qualms 
about asking a guy where he stands. If it's 
somcone I'm really interested in, ГЇЇ even 
argue with him about where he should 
stand. And if I don't get the answers 1 
necd to hear, ll walk away. Not without 
regret, mind you. It's just that Pm at the 
point where I feel Га be a jerk if I didn't 
do what I could to minimize the risk оГ 
being disappointed." 

But that raises а ticklish, unbeggable 
question: How far can that risk be mi 
mized? Seduction and romance have al- 
ways been a dicey business. Define the 
game as you will, there's no such thing as 
an airtight set of rules. Roger Fisher and 
William Ury, authors of Getting to Ye 
define their game as “principled negoti 
tion." It is, they claim, an approach that 
allows you "to decide issues on their 
merits rather than through a haggling 
process" and “чо obtain what you are enti- 
tled 10 and still be decent." A worthy ideal, 
to be sure, and one at dramatic variance 
with human behavior through the ages. 
The thing is, negotiations between men 
and women did not begin when people 
started calling them that; the “haggling 
process” actually predates the trendy 
vocabulary by around 40,000 years. 
icture, for example, a young couple 
scrabbling around in the back seat of a 
1953 De Soto. What is going on may 
appear to be a wrestling match but is real- 
ly a species of negotiation: getting to yes in 
the Eisenhower years. The young lady has 
her knees pressed staunchly together and 
she is telling her partner, with tearful 
sincerity, that the only way she could 
possibly open them would be if he really 
loved her and would take her for his wife. 
That is a negotiating technique known as 
blackmail, and men became very adept at 
parrying it with a negotiating technique 
known as lying. He’d offer some mealy- 
mouthed promise, she'd relent and— 
boom!—there went another reputation 
and another set of velvet-plush upholstery. 

Thus it was back in the days when being 
a successful seducer/negotiator consisted 


(concluded on page 100) 


“It looks messy, but we'll straighten it out!” 


87 


WOMEN IN WHITE 


their work is taxing, their training arduous, Ihe aura surrounding them often mysterious— 
but these professionals have an off-duty identity as well 


E. only with extreme 
trauma and emergencies: 
gunshot wounds, knife 
wounds, car accidents, ap- 
pendectomies. Mostly, it’s 
street trauma—wounded 
people off the street. I 
worked through the big 
Miami riot late last year. 
The night it broke out, I 
hadn’t been listening to the 
radio and I didn't know 
what was happening as I 
drove to work. About a 
block from the hospital, 
there was a police road- 
block. "They said they 
weren't letting anyone 
through because it was 
dangerous. I said, “Гуе got 
to get to the hospital. They 
need me in the emergency 
room.’ They let me go 
through. You don’t want to 
know what it was like in the 
operating room that night.” 

That slice of reality is 
brought to you by Kathlyne 
Markham, а 26-year-old 
Florida nurse who, along 
with hundreds of others 
from around the country, 
contacted us when we publi- 
‘ized our intention to run a 
pictorial on nurses. And 
thanks to Kathlyne, her col- 
leagues in nursing and in other allied professions whom you'll 
meet in this pictorial and many others who sent us their thoughts 
and feelings about their work, we received quite an education. 
First of all, we learned that these women are uniformly vocal in 
their demand for more respect and less stereotyping from both 
the gencral public and the medical profession. The second thing 
we learned was how little the general public understands how 
stressful and demanding nursing can be, even in the best-run 
hospitals. And the third thing: We were reminded that nurses are 
people, too. Away from their jobs, they are individuals as unique 
as they are similar when in uniform. They also happen to be, as a 


“Any step we can toke to give nurses more recognition should be taken, no matter 
whot the risk,” says Oklohomo City R.N. Susie Owens. "I 
are tired of being stereotyped as submissive, silent, humorless and sexless.” 


group. perhaps the most ex- 
essive, eloquent and so 
cated women we've 
ever had the good fortune 
to photograph. For that 
reason, we're going to let 
them tell you about their 
lives. Along the way, 
you'll probably relinquish 
а few misconceptions about 
nurses garnered from grade- 
B movies and soap operas. 
And you'll sce beauty on ev- 
ery page. But let's let the 
women enlighten you. 

The first thing they'd like 
you to know is that some 
things you see nurses do on 
television bear по resem- 
blance to reality. Sonya 
Montgomery, a Miami R.N., 
worked in a coronary 
intensive-care unit for two 
years and had many oppor- 
tunities to work with the 
defibrillator—the device 
used to shock a patients 
heart back to its normal 
rhythm—and she says the 
television portrayals аге 
usually overacted. “On TV, 
when the paddles carrying 
the voltage are placed оп the 
pati the body 
gets thrown around as if it 
were in an earthquake. 
Actually,” says Sonya, “even with maximum voltage, the body 
shows only the slightest movement, if any." 
gnificant illusion, and a far more common опе, is 
s olten get romantically involved with doctors or pa- 
tients. Rhonda LeSuer, а Mississippi R.N., echoed the words of 
nearly every nurse we interviewed: “Most patients aren't in the 
hospital to love; they're in therc to live. And the nurses have too 
much stress even to think about getting involved with a patient.” 

Susan Blake, a four-year R.N. currently working in a Louisiana 
hospital's general surgical unit, described how unromantic it 
usually is when a nurse does run (text concluded on page 224) 


ink most nurses nts chest, 


On this page, women in white at work and play. Floridian Nikki Nickerson, 28 (above left), became a registered nurse earlier this year after working 
for six years as a certified surgical technician, an emergency medical technologist and a registered medical assistant. She specializes in surgical 
nursing and spends her off hours practicing photography and ballet. Mississippi R-N. Rhonda LeSuer, 23 (above center), works in an intensive-care unit, 
as does licensed practical nurse Natalie Mahaffey, 28 (above right), shawn regulating the flow of an I.V. salution en гаме to a Michigan haspital. 


California В.М. Fatima Souza, 23, із also a professional stunt woman and has often been hired іп a dual role. Above left, she attends to an injured 
actor. Above right, San Rafael student nurse Lisa Dalrymple, 21 (left), jogs over the Golden Gate Bridge with Toni Basey, 24, an К.М. in a surgical 
intensive-care unit. Texas licensed vocational nurse Margareta Jackson, 28 (below left), has worked in emergency rooms for five years. R.N. Kathlyne 
Markham, 26 (below center), works in the trauma unit of a Florida hospital. Susan Blake, R.N. (below right), is a New Orleans surgical nurse. 


When shes off duty, Rhonda 
LeSver (right) is an amateur 
artist. She also studies ballet. 
Sonya Montgomery (opposite 
page, top) is an В.М. on a 
cruise ship sailing from Miami. 


Lisa McGlone, 25 (above), із a 
Massachusetts R.N. whase hob- 
bies are photography and 
heavy-duty exercise. Cali 
nio's Lisa Dalrymple (opposi 
page, left) wants to specialize 
in genetic and family-planning 
counseling. Bree Jesser (oppo- 
site page, right) is a 28-yeor- 
old California L.V.N. who has 
spent most of her career on 
staff in mental-health centers. 
She's also ап official Trekkie 
(Star Trek fanatic) wha has her 
own personal Star Trek uniform. 


Toni Basey (far left) spends her time off 
practicing and teaching gymnastics. She's 
also a cross-country runner. Fatima Souza 
(below) keeps herself їп shope for the 
rigors af being a nurse and с stunt woman 
by weight lifting, jagging, swimming and 
aerobic dance. Margareta Jackson (left) 
likes to spend her spare time dancing, 
traveling and riding. She plans ta return 
to school to get a degree in journalism. 


Theresa Taylar, 28 (left), is a medical secretary 
who spends non-office hours swimming and 
painting water calars. Natalie Mahaffey (above) 
loves to play softball and says she's a “health 
nut”: "Nurses shauld look healthy,” she says, 
“because we set an example for aur patients.” 
Kathlyne Markham (right) із a nurse by night and. 
a model by day. As far the myth that nurses are 
attracted ta male patients, she says, “Nat true at 
cll. When a nurse is working, she's all business. 1 
sure am. The hospital is ro place to lock for 
love." Susan Blake (belaw) із o bodybuilder. 


` / 


Maria Boon, 32 (above), is а New Yark R.N. wha alsa has a flavrishing career os an actress (you saw her as a hastage in Nighthawks, with Sylvester 
Stallone). She likes to work off the tensians of her work by playing tennis and racquetball. Moureen O’Neely, 23 (belaw left), is а nuclear-medicine 


technologist fram Indianapolis whose hobby is gourmet cooking. She's also an occamplished pianist. Nikki Nickerson (below right) is phatagraphed 
os she sun-bathes оп Caladesi Island, of the сооз! af Florida. Susie Owens (opposite page) likes to relax with dence cerabics 


Jor roamin’ 
in the autumnal gloami; 
scotch cocktails are 
a bonny choic 


drink 
ByEMANUEL GREENBERG 


ти. RECENTLY, tempering Scotch 
whisky with mixers was consid- 

ered a sacrilege. Despite the occa~ 

sional Rob Roy or rusty nail, real 

men imbibed their Scotch neat or on the 
rocks. Not so in the mother country. Brit- 
ish quaflers treat their smoky brew with 
more nonchalance—and a measure of im- 
agination. Ginger ale, soda and lem- 
onade (in England, a fizzy, lemon-flavored 
soft drink) are favorite mixers. Scotch 
whisky and cola—don’t wince—makes it 
with the younger crowd. Traditional 
drinks, such as sours, old fashioneds and 
milk punches, are not unknown, and many 
an angler casting his bait on the waters of 
the River Tay or the Strath Oykell—one 
of the queen mother’s favorite salmon 
streams—packs a container of Gaelic cof- 
fee: Scotch whisky, hot Java, cream and a 
“wee pickle о? sugar. 
Bell’s, the leading Scotch-whisky brand 
in the U.K., attributes much of its van- 
guard position to use in mixed potions 
There are indications that that tilt toward 
mixing has not gone unnoticed in the 
United States. A number of first-rate local 
bars have taken to featuring Scotch-based 
specialty drinks—to the evident delight of 
their savvy clientele. The communications 
and finance wizards who crowd the spa- 
cious bar at (continued on page 226) 


ILLUSTRATION BY HERB DAVIOSON 


PLAYBOY 


100 


AGE OF NEGOTIATION 


(continued from page 86) 


“Tt doesn't matter so much what you're getting so long 
as you feel you're getting something.” 


largely of knowing what the right answers 
were and having the sang-froid to pro- 
nounce them with a straight face. I can't 
help wondering whether our supposedly 
new style of negotiation isn't carrying us 
back toward that dubious ideal. *Ask no 
questions, hear no lies” goes the bromide, 
and it's just possible that the current 
emphasis on asking every question is pull- 
ing us back toward a naive belief in prom- 
ises made under duress, ushering in a 
second golden age of the irresistibly rcas- 
suring fib. 


. 

Sad to say, the negotiator's tango does 
not wind to a passionate resolution as soon 
asa man and a woman hit the sack. Not by 
a long shot. In fact, that's when the dance 
really starts cooking. Onc takes a woman 
to bed, novelist Ford Madox Ford 
observed, for the privilege of finishing a 
conversation with her. And in the age оГ 
negotiation, what consummation signals is 
the privilege of moving ahead to even sub- 
tler, more multifaceted forms of bar- 
gaining. 

Those later stages of negotiation have 
some pretty compelling reasons behind 
them—reasons like the full-scale emer- 
gence of women in the market place, like 
the unignorable ticking of the biological 
clock, like the baffling array of options 
available to couples who can see each 
other exclusively or not е together 
monogamously or otherwisc, or marry, 
eternally or in the meantime. And on top. 
of those large social issues are the many 
smaller personal problems, the ones that 
needle the hell out of you from day to day. 
If she has her place and you have yours, 
what kind of shutde diplomacy do you 
work out so that both partners can hang 
on to a sense of home and access to fresh 
socks? If working schedules conflict, how 
do you finagle time for socializing and 
lovemaking without one or both partners’ 
breaking down from slecp deprivation? 

The answer, broadly, is that you negoti- 
ate. If you are a mature and compas- 
sionate individual, you negotiate calmly, 
judiciously, with a generous сус toward 
the other person's prerogatives; if you're 
like the rest of us, you negotiate in fits and 
sulks, driven by spasms of frustration and 
rage, pondering the mystery of why you're 
feeling so lousy about something that 
ought to feel so good. At odd moments, 
you break through to flashes of what 
passes for progress. 

“Sometimes | picture us as a pair of 
crazed Persians al a bazaar,” says a guy Î 
know of his dealings with his live-in lover. 


“We haggle over everything; it's second 
nature by now. ГЇЇ give you an example. 
She gets up for work an hour earlier than I 
do, and we used to have a really dreary 
time deciding how late we should stay up 
making love. Га be looking at her ass; 
she'd be looking at the clock. What we 
ended up deciding was that it really wasn’t 
any good for either of us to go without, but 
if the fe: ies went beyond a certain 
hour, then Pd take care of shopping and 
dinner the next day, so she could just kick 
back after work. Was ita perfect solution? 
No. There arc still times when she lets me 
know she's just too zonked or when I feel, 
frankly, that the trade-off isn't worth the 
bother just then. But there's something 
I've learned about these negotiated settle- 
ments: It docsn’t matter so much what 
you're getting so long as you feel you're 
getting something. You can put up with a 
lot as long as you preserve your sense of 
fair play.” 

Now, far be it from me to come out in 
favor of unfair play, but I can’t help feeling 
that this emphasis on quid pro quo is a 
rather gray priority. Negotiated whoopee 
time? Negotiated privacy? Negotiated 
boundaries on intimacy and desire? What- 
ever happened to lust and impulse, to the 
ecstatic third-reel yielding of a man and a 
woman to something bigger than both of 
them? Whatever happened, in a word, to 
spontanei 

I asked my aforementioned friend that 
question. In response, he said one of the 
most stinging, abashing things that one 
human being can say to another: He told 
me that my sentiments were out of fashion. 
The obsession with spontaneity, he in- 
formed me, was a historical aberration of 
the Sixties and the Seventies; all but the 
most unreconstructed children of those 
decades had outgrown it 

Perhaps he’s right. But I remember a 
time not so long ago when what was meant 
by negotiations between men and women 
were the discussions about who claimed 
the dining-room set and who retained the 
Breuer chairs in an impending divorce. 
Back then, disasters were negotiated, and 
anything short of disaster was muddled 
through, possibly even enjoyed. Maybe 
too little was talked about then; mayhe too 
many grievances were left to fester. But at 
least a greater trust was placed іп in- 
tuition; a greater delicacy obtained that 
prevented lovers from confronting each 
other like attorneys in a court of law. 

I have a confession to make, however. 
At least part of my skepticism about this 
whole negotiating business probably has 


to do with the fact that I'm so bad at it. 
‘That was made painfully clear to me гс- 
cently on the occasion of a date I had with 
а certain young woman, a 30-year-old 
lawyer who is nobody’s fool 

We were out for dinner, and it seemed to 
me that things were going swimmingly. 
Conversation was animated; we laughed a 
Jot. It was so damn pleasant sipping wine 
and sitting there across the table from her 
face that I didn’t realize I was being 
quizzed. I thought we were just talking. At 
some point, the conversation came around 
to how we felt about living in Manhattan. 
My companion said she didn’t really like it 
much and looked forward to the day when 
she could buy a little house in Connecticut 
and commute; [ didn’t hold that against 
her in the least, but I did tell her tha 
would personally prefer a slow, 
death. Later, in some well-masked context, 
she found a way to mention children and, 
hoping to charm her with my wry i 
souciance, I admitted that I couldn't stand 
them. Later sull, in а way that deftly 
avoided being crass, she inquired as to the 
advancement opportunities in my field; I 
responded simply with а selfderisive 
snort. 

But here's the thing: I still thought ev- 
erything was going great. We меге looking 
into cach other's eyes and grinning; I was 
blowing it, yes, but who knew? As the 
after-dinner snifters were being drained, it 
seemed the most natural thing in the world 
to ask her to go home with me. But there I 
made my biggest blunder of all by not 
asking her for more than that, not tying it 
in to a package deal. 1 could've mentioned 
that maybe Pd reconsider commuting 
from Connecticut; I could have hinted that 
my feelings about babies might change if I 
were with a woman I truly loved; I 
could've suggested that, having taken on 
the responsibilities of a family man and 
homcowner, I might find my way into a 
more reliable line of work. I had all sorts of 
bargaining chips, and I didn’t play a sin- 
gle one. I pissed away my chance to offer 
up a deal that might be acceptable to her. 

She turned me down, of course. Gallant 
if not suave, I took her home in a ta: 
her door, she kissed me on the check. The 
kiss said not now, not ever: negotiations 
suspended indefinitely. 

I walked home, playing the evening 
back in my mind, asking myself the age- 
old question: Was it something I said? No, 
it was everything 1 said. Not since the 
Allies ceded the Sudetenland had a nego- 
tiation been more thoroughly bungled. 
But, OK, live and learn. I'd improve. Га 
already bought the books. Га even looked 
them over in the john. Now all I had to do 
was bone up on my cold-bloodedness in 
order to put their wisdom, principled or 
otherwise, into practice. 

Or maybe Га save myself the trouble 
and, next time, just take my agent along. 


“Sweetie, let's skip the X movie on cable TV tonight. 
The Bradleys are going into the whirlpool.” 


101 


memoir By CARL OGLESBY „опсо his glossy nails; then his 


clean, small hands; then the bright-white calling card with the elegant black script that 
read, ANDREY N SUVOROV, 
REPUBLICS WASHINGTON. DC 
Let me introduce myself,” he said. I turned to see the amused blue eyes ofa sturdy 

man of 30 or 35, well turned out in a sofi-gray wool suit, a blond forclock boyishly drap- 
ing his wide, pale brow, his cheekbones hugh, his checks rosy. 

I looked at his card again. “I'm honored," 1 said. 

He waved his hand and smiled. “Third secretary is nothing.” he said. “It is a very 
junior diplomatic post. Lam glorified errand boy. This is just to tell you"—and here he 


103 


PLAYBOY 


104 


suggested, with a slight stiflening, an 
understated bow— "who I am.” 

That was almost six years ago, carly in 
1978. I had been staring out of a second- 
story window across a little Capitol Hill 
park as Valentine’s Day dusk settled and 
the afternoon’s drizzle hardened into a 
cold, fine rain. I was wondering unhappily 
how to get back to DuPont Circle dry 
without spending money I didn’t have for 
а саЬ, hating myself for having decided on 
impulse to come to this affair. It was a 
wine-and-cheese reception at a small office 
with a big name, the National Center for 
Security Studies, a liberal think tank 
housed in what had once been a bit of a 
mansion with curving stairs, white wood- 
work and blue carpets. But the rooms on 
the upper floor were tiny and stuffed with 
files and desks, overheated now by the 
crowd of youngish Washingtonians of the 
near left nibbling brie and sipping Chablis 
and trading bits of political gossip, T 
among them nibbling, sipping and gossip- 
ing and basically doing what I was always 
doing those days, trying to find support for 
the organization I helped run, Ше Assas- 
sination Information Bureau. The A.I.B. 
had been formed in 1973 by a small group 
of Cambridge writers pushing to reopen 
the John Е. Kennedy and Martin Luther 
King, Jr., murder cases. We moved the 
A.LB. to Washington in 1977 after the 
House set up the Select Committce on 
Assassinations. We were a duly certified 
tax-exempt public-education group, іп 
town as watchdog to the new committee. 

There are always lots of little outfits like 
the A-LB. in Washington. The pauperized 
codirectors (such was my title) of the more 
or less left-wing ones always show up at 
liberal occasions such as this reception, 
and the sound of us all crowded together 
could be depressing. The stomach says to 
stay home. But then you think, No, this 
schooling at brie is part of your chosen job; 
you may get to make a point or a contact 
ог a deal. So, suddenly, you go after all, 
and you forget your umbrella. The pay- 
off comes when a young staff aide, 
commenting on the importance of your 
work, says, “We think you'd do better with 
UFOs.” 

1 had gone off to stare in a sulk out the 
window at the rain, and that was when the 
tiny glint of a man’s well-manicured 
thumbnail gave me my first inkling of the 
third secretary. 

“You are a journalist, if 1 may ask?” he 
said. That was close enough. I let it stand. 
“While І am in your country, as a kind 
of hobby, you sec, something I do оп my 
own time, 1 want to study political 
groups outside the Government. You see? 
Not Democrats or Republicans. Would 
you please to be so good some time during 
next weeks to let me take you to dinner, 
so that we can discuss about this?” 


If you were a child of Cointelpro and 
Watergate, you could not fail to assume 
that this man was being watched. You 
would also be watched if you had dinner 
with this man. Did the А.1.В. need ал en- 
try in its FBI file linking one of its 
codirectors to a Soviet diplomat? Would 
my having dinner with Andrey Suvorov 
help me or the A.I.B. do what we were 
trying to do? Was my interest in this per- 
son motivated by anything higher than 
common curiosity? 

The answer was no on all counts. But 
my answer to his invitation was “Sure. 
That would be interesting. Do you want to 
set a date?” 

He said he would prefer to check his 
schedule. He asked for my phone number 
and wrote it down with a silver ballpoint 
in a black-leather notebook. He took a 
short step back, again the merest hint 
of a bow, a slight stiffening of the upper 
body. He said he was sorry he must leave 
so soon but that previous obligations sum- 
moned him. “Please, you should not try to 
call me at the Soviet embassy,” he said, 
pulling on his wench coat. His eyes were 
hooded and droll. “Тһе girls, you know, at 
the switchboard—they don’t speak so 
good English. They probably would not 
recognize my name.” 

І could sec him through the window as 
he walked to the curb. A car came along 
and picked him up, right away. A few 
seconds later, another car slid up the street 
behind it with its lights out in the rainy 
dusk. I felt a flutter of sanity: What's going 
on here? What does a third secretary want 
from me? What do I want from a third 
secretary? Who else is playing? 

I was out of town when Suvorov 
phoned. “Your Russian friend called,” 
said my officemate Jeff Goldberg. He was 
curious. Uneasily, Ї put him об. 

Suvorov and 1 connected two weeks lat- 
er, his high voice unmistakable over a 
scratchy connection: “Where do you sug- 
gest we meet?” 

Mr, Eagen's is a small, dark pub below 
DuPont Circle. I thought of it because it 
was nearby and because Га had a drink 
there the day before with a former Army 
Intelligence officer with whom Га been 
ing a book project. Going there the 
y with Suvorov appealed to my 
taste for vulgar irony. 

I was there well ahead of time, three 
ting in a dark booth toward the 
with a clear view of the front door, 
sipping a Jameson's. Andrey strode in ten 
minutes late and said right away that we 
should go up the avenue to a place he 
knew we would like better. 

We went out into a dark, windy after- 
noon shot with sudden brightenings. A 
gust blew Suvorov's blond hair across his 
face and made him squint. “Have you 
read newspapers this morning?” he said. 

The big story that day was news from 
the Soviet Union of a sudden across-the- 


board doubling of consumer prices. “This 
means very little,” he said. “We sometimes 
really do experience failure, and then we 
do not deny it. But this is technical adjust- 
ment. Your papers exaggerate our prob- 
lems all the time, you see?” 

I did not see, though I was sure he could 
make a case; but there’s a moment in a re- 
lationship with someone of another faith— 
of another faith fervently held—when you 
say “Give me a break” or clsc you say 
nothing. If you want to understand that 
other faith, you suffer its truisms. So I 
nodded yes to Andrey, made a sympathet- 
ic face and assured him that I, a veteran 
of the Sixties’ New Left, knew what it was 
like to be trashed by the Western press. 

He led us up Gonnecticut Avenue to a 
cozy Italian restaurant called Anna 
Maria’s, where I enjoyed, courtesy of the 
Bolshevik Revolution, an early dinner with 
wine as I mainly listened to Suvorov tell 
me more about himself. He had been born 
in Moscow at the end of World War Two 
and still lived there. He had been trained 
as an economist, He had been in the army. 
He had studied at the prestigious Foreign 
Service Institute. He had been at the 
ington embassy since late 1977, after 
a period in Moscow. His wife, Marie, was 
with him in Washington. They had no 
children. They were homesick for Moscow. 
The U.S.A. was hard duty. “You are con- 
stantly subjected to harassment. Everyone 
is suspicious of you. Everyone is hostile.” 

I was taking all this in with what 1 
meant to be a friendly face, happy to eat 
and listen; then he took me off guard. 

“What you are doing is dangerous,” he 
said abruptly, though with no change in 
vocal expression. 

“You mean meeting with you?" I said. 

“About Kennedy," he said. “What if 
there really was a conspiracy? What if you 
are getting too close to it?” 

“Many pcople are getting close to it 
together. There's no special danger to me.” 

Не hesitated. “How can you succeed 
without a new source of information?” 

I hesitated. “Do you know of a new 
source?” 

“Oh, no,” he chuckled. “1 am not ex- 
pert about this. 

“But someone in your country is. Isn't it 
time for tlic Soviet government to tell what 
it really knows about Oswald?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Your K.G.E. still insists that it never 
interrogated Oswald." 

“But this is true,” s: 
puzzled smile, “is it not?’ 

“Maybe so, but it doesn't ring true. You 
know what I mean?” He still seemed puz- 
zled. I said, “People in the United States 
tend to think that the K.G.B., which is 
known for its great skill, would not let an 
interesting person such as Oswald slip by 

(continued on page 128) 


Andrey with a 


the 

lore and 
lure of 
selecting 
a fine 
cigar 


GENTLEMEN, 
YOU MAY SMOKE 


APPROXIMATELY 15 billion cigars 

are manufactured every year. 

Of that number, less than two 
percent constitutes the 

world's output of premium, 
hand-rolled cigars. Behind 

the terms premium and hand- 

rolled lie a thousand variables 

that can account for anything 

from an acceptable smoke to a mas- 
terpiece. At the very least, the core, 
or filler, of a fine cigar must consist 
of whole leaves laid lengthwise, not 
chopped and (continued on page 182) 


modern living Wy DAVID ABRAHAMSON 


PHOTOGRAPHY BY RICHARD IZUI. 


COMPUTERS 


—- y 
y 


By PETER A. MCWILLIAMS 


right now, computers in households are more fun than useful— 
but for businesses, they're so useful they make working fun 


AST MONTH, we took a look at what 

І personal computers are. This month, 

well explore what they can—and 
cannot—do. 

То case our exploration, let's divide the 
use of personal computers into two cate- 
gories: home and business. This follows 
the generally accepted cliché that we 
spend one third of our lives at home, one 
third ofour lives at the office and one third 
of our lives in bed 

We'll skip the bed third. Computers are 
worthless there. What’s worth while in bed 
is covered (complete with photographs, 
diagrams, graphic prose and Oriental 
woodcuts) in other parts of PLAYBOY. 

In the remaining two thirds of life. per- 
sonal computers are decidedly more useful 
in business than in the home. 

Never one to avoid the obvious, Pd like 
to state that computers compute. Comput- 
ing is adding and subtracting, multiplying 
and dividing, watching over numbers the 
way a shepherd watches over sheep. 

"Тһе question is, How many numbers in 
the average home need shepherding? Not 
many. Certainly not as many as in the 
average office. (Computers reduce every- 
thing to numbers. Binary numbers, to be 
sure, but still numbers. Words, people, 
parts—everything gets a number, then the 
computer manipulates the numbers.) 
There may be as much going on in a four- 
person home as there is in a four-person 
office—if not more—but the office has 
more of the repetitive, predictable, easily 
reduced-to-numbers activities that com- 
puters adore. 

Balancing a personal checkbook on a 
personal computer, for example, is a waste 
е. You can add a deposit or subtract 
Ihdrawal by hand (with the help of a 
pocket calculator, if you're like me) and 
have the entire process completed before 
you can get the proper disk into the com- 
puter and turn it on. 

In addition, pocket calculators cost five 
dollars. Checkbook programs for personal 
computers cost $30. A record of your 
checks kept in your checkbook is portable. 
Records kept in your computer are not. 
Your checkbook will accept anything 
for a date: 11/5, Nov. 5, the Sth, 
the first Saturday in November, one 
week later— whatever you find helpful. 


Computer programs require a specific for- 
mat, such as MM-DD-YY (computer talk 
for month-month, date-date, year-year). 

The same is true for many of the highly 
advertised uses of computers around the 
home. You can file recipes better with a 
99-сепі card file and 3"x 5" cards than you 
can on a $3000 computer. Addresses are 
better managed in a little black book than 
on a little black disk, А three-dollar 
appointment calendar is far more practical 
for one's personal life than the most elabo- 
rate scheduling program. And all that talk 
about putting the houschold budget on a 
computer: Do you know anyone who even 
has a houschold budget? 

There is no point in putting information 
into a computer unless you plan to ma- 
nipulate that information elaborately and 
frequently. Businesses tend to do that with 
names, numbers, addresses and words. 
Households do not. 

Eventually, however, personal comput- 
ers will find a way into almost every home 
In ten or 20 years, they will be as invalu- 
able as telephones. Telephones were first 
installed as emergency devices, to summon 
aid. It was years before people used them 
to “reach out, reach out and just say hi. 
There wasn't a telephone in the Oval 
Oflice until Herbert Hoover. 

But even today, at the dawn of its uscful- 
ness in the home, there are three good. 
reasons for putüng a personal computer. 
in the home: (1) games, (2) kids, (3) 
curiosity. 

Computers play games very well, from 
chess to backgammon to a new genre of 
recreational activity called, appropriately 
enough, computer games. They provide 
worthy opponents for solo play or impar- 
tial referecing and accurate scorekecping 
for paired combat. 

There are mental games, strategy 
games, action games, even X-rated games. 
Computer games are marvelous гесгеа- 
tion. Far from viewing them as a waste of 
time, I tend to go along with Professor 
Harold Hill, who once said in defense оГ 
billiards, “І consider that the hours 1 
spend with a cue in my hand are golden. 
Help you cultivate horse sense and a cool 
head and a keen eye.” The same could be 
said of joy sticks today. 


ILLUSTRATION BY PAM WALL / AIR STREAM 


But then, there are those who are оГ 
another opinion. As Bette Midler said, “1 
was invited over to a guy's house for an 
evening of Donkey Kong. Boy, was I dis- 
appointed to find out it was only a game.” 
(Midler, in fact, cannot understand the 
computer revolution. “I got into show 
business,” she says, “so I wouldn't have to 
do data processing.”) 

Kids love computers. Not just because 
of the games, either, but because they are 
the latest thing, the state of the art. And, 
as usual, this newest technological de- 
velopment has created a bit ofa generation 
gap. Indoor plumbing, central heating, 
movies, radio, television—cach had its 
friends and enemies on opposite ends of 
the age spectrum. Today, 
puters and computer games. 
is that their parents can't possibly under- 
stand, kids will usually embrace. 

Computers hold a fascination, too, be- 
cause, for the first time, kids can make the 
TV do what they want it to. All their lives, 
they have watched television come at 
them. Hook a computer up to the TV and, 
finally, they have control. Pac-Man goes 
where they tell him to go. They can help 
Indiana Jones find the lost ark. Kids can 
write programs that make the TV say or 
do anything. While adults balk at learning 
programming languages, kids feel that 
that's what it takes to communicate with 
their new friend, they'll learn them. Par- 
ents ask, "What's the point?" Kids ask, 
“How can I make the screen turn blue?” 

Despite their legions of young followers, 
computers are still educational, At least, 
that's what every kid and every computer 
company would like every parent to be- 
lieve. In truth, computers are currently 
good only at teaching things by rote— 
spelling, multiplication tables, and the 
like—expensive electronic versions of the 
old flash cards. That will change as com- 
puter memories increase and more pro- 
grams are written. 

OF course, you don't need children to 
get a home computer. For those of us 
in the older generation (the ones, now 
approaching 40, who said never trust any- 
опе over 30), it may be the loveof gadgetry 
that will get us to buy one. 

For others, its (continued on page 176) 


107 


V. 


PRINCESS 
FROM THE PAMPAS 


don’t cry for her, argentina 


нем 1 со to France, they think I'm French. When I go to Italy, they 
think I'm Italian. Anywhere I go, that's where they think Pm from. 

It’s amazing?” Veronica Gamba is deceived. We were talking with 

her in California, and she clearly wasn't from there. Such exotica is rarely 
home-grown. She is, as you may suspect, imported—from Argentina. In- 
deed, her ancestors were among the founders of the Argentine Republic, 
which makes her sort of a princess of the pampas. Her mother, who was liv- 
ing in Germany, met Veronica's father on a holiday in Argentina. Their sub- 
sequent marriage extended her vacation, and two little Gambas, Veronica 


PHOTOGRAPHY BY ARNY FREYTAG 


= 


Cooling her bod on a hot 
day at Fort Lauderdale 
beach (above), Veronica 
somehow makes us a little 
warmer. The ‘Vette at left 
makes a handy, if not 
quite private, dressing. 
room for some minor хий 
adjustments. Riding the 
waves with a friends 
strong hand at the tiller 
(right), she proves more 
than seeworthy while get- 
ting set for a Hobie 
Cat regatta. Some crew 
members work, apparent- 
ly, and some are content 
to inspire working. 


and her brother, cemented the union. When her father died, 
the family moved to New Rochelle, New York, and later to 
rt Lauderdale, Florida, where Veronica and her mother 
still live. Veronica has just wrapped her second decade. 
Since high school, she has been a fashion model working an 
international circuit that has included Houston, New York, 
4 Italy. Most of the time, she travels with her 
mother. The two are practically inseparable. "She's my best 
friend,” Veronica gushes. “She's always for me, whatever I 
want to do. Anything! I can go to her and tell her anything. 
me advice, I give her adv 
I think it's nice to havea friend, not just a parent.” 
The relationship docs come in handy. For obvious 
reasons, there aren't too many girls who want to hang out 
with Veronica. “I get along much better with men than with 
women,” she admits, "Women always think I'm out to get 
their boyfriends. I mean, I don't even have to open my 
mouth. All I have to do is walk down the street and they give 
me dirty looks. It's a weird feeling.” We can see the problem. 
Veronica is intimidatin, IFassured. Her 
travels have left her with an insight that comes close to 
sophistication. Besides English, she speaks Sp: nd Hal 
well enough to get by. And because she thought at one 
time that she would like to be a news anchor, she studied 
communications at Brown Institute for a year. However, 
when we met her, she had already decided that movie acting 
was a better game. So far, she has appeared in two small 
parts: one in Smokey and the Bandit Part Ш and 
the other in Ladies’ Night, (text concluded. on page 186) 


She's bright and 


nish 


Veronica proves she can handle both sides of the camera 
(below) im broadcasting class at Brown Institute. 
She already has her FCC permit. At right, pedestrian 


traffic backs up when she heads for the beach. 


At right, Veronica is prepped by Foot- 
lights agency head Donna Phillips for 
a turn before fashion photographer 
Sandy McKee’s camera in West Palm 
Beach. Below, fantasytime on the shore. 


“Му brother used to gel 
млүвоү and hide it 
under his bed. I used to 
crawl under there and 
gel it when he went 10 
school. Then ту girl- 
friend and I would look 
al it and laugh hys- 
terically at the pic 
tures. It’s not that they 
were funny; its just 
that that’s what litle 
girls do. I thought, 
Me get undressed? 
I'd never do nudes! 


“I sometimes wonder if I'm ever going to get married. I think I will, but I can't see it right now. 1 really can't. I can't even see the 
next guy I’m going to date. I'm a very picky person. But I'm not concerned about it, because right now, my career means more 1 
me, and I wouldn't want to hurt the relationship because of it. I don't think a lot of people in show business can handle marriage 


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PLAYBOY’S PARTY JOKES 


What grounds do you think you have?” asked 
ES y y k 
the attorney whom the woman was consulting 
about a divorce. 


“Му husband kceps bringing his work home 


with him night after night!” exclaimed his client. 
"But thats hardly grounds for divorce," 
smiled the man of the law. "Why, I do that 
myself." 
"Sure, I can sce a man doing it if he's a busy 
lawyer,” snapped the woman, “but my husband 


happens to be a pimp! 


V Marie Antoinette had been sly, 

She'd have lived till the sweet by-and-by. 
She'd have saved her poor head 
Through some mob head, instead, 

If she'd only said, "Let them eat pie!" 


The San. Francisco police are nothing if not re- 
sponsive to the feelings of the local electorate. 
Тһе word is that Dirty Harry has been replaced 
by Bitchy Gerald. 


Our Unabashed Dictionary defines glee-club 
groupie as a girl who's into choral sex. 


We've been told about a bordello that was the 
target of a recent drug raid —which only goes to 
prove that people who work in ass houses 
shouldn't get stoned. 


А; for weirdness, the guy who's the tops 
Is a kinky old butcher called Pops. 
Since he thinks it's effete 
To be beating his meat, 
What he's into is licking his chops. 


It was while they were parked that the girl 
announced, “I'm hungry,” and her date grinned 
and proceeded го unzip and display his organ. 

“No dice, smartass!” snapped the girl. “I was 
thinking of something more filling." 


Conceivably, you've heard the sad story of the 
Greek sailor who got his upper torso wedged in a 
porthole and couldn't get it out to save his ass. 


Was it— well, you know, good for you, too?" in- 
quired the young man rather tentatively as they 
were dressing in the motel room 

"What you should have asked for in that drug- 
store on the way here,” responded the girl, "was 
a pack of amateurphylactics.” 


Young woman, I can certainly appreciate your 
wanting to change your surname if it's Dildo," 
stated the judge. "What name do you want to 
change it to?" 

“Adcock,” said the girl. 


А nurse once replied, with a laugh, 

"You nerd!” to a doc on the staff 
Who'd proposed, with а whine, 
“If you don't sixty-nine, 

Га accept thirty-four and а half." 


How can you leave me?" asked the rejected lov- 
er. “Pm like putty in your hands!” 
“Precisely,” replied the girl 


Look at те!” an elderly health faddist boasted to 
visitors. “Гуе aged like a fine old, carefully 
stored wine!" 

“I certainly have to agree with that," con- 
firmed the man's wife, with a shrug. "Henry's 
cork has been stationary for years." 


There's a sports-minded coed named Sue 
Who's been coxing the varsily crew. 

In the shell, Sue is great, 

But her boyfriend's тше 
When she calls out the stroke as they screw. 


А favorite delicacy on Fire Island last summer 
was reportedly cocked fruit tail 


The most intriguing new church we've been told 
about is one the ecclesiastical authorities enig- 
matically decided to name Saint Frederick's of 
Hollywood. 


My wife and I have been having some—well, 
some problems in bed,” the drinker told the 
bartender, "so 1 knocked off work early this 
afternoon to go home and ask her to try out 
a completely new position. But when Í got 
there,” he went on morosely, “that position was 
already filled.” 


Heard a funny one lately? Send it on а post- 
card, please, to Party Jokes Editor, рілуноу, 
Playboy Bldg., 919 N. Michigan Ave., Chicago, 
Il 60611. $50 will be paid to the contributor 
whose card 15 selected. Jokes cannot be returned. 


“Imagine. This all started with tea for two.” 


OLD FLASH! 


E DON'T KNOW WHETHER it’s the upturn in the economy or the memory of last year's 

blustery days and frigid nights, but coats in a variety of fabrics and styles, from 
black leather to the classic double-breasted camel's hair, are very much a part of this fall 
and winter's fashion picture. The lengths, in general, are longer—not so much to keep 
your knees warm as to с at lengths are rela 
however; so if you're on the short side, make your selection with an eye to balance. 
long a coat on а short man comes off more Chaplinesque than classy. Because a coat is a 
major expenditure, put your money on one that will serve double duty for both formal 
and casual occasions. The aforementioned black-leather storm coat looks elegant over an 
evening suit, yet it’s also right at home atop more sporty clothes, including jeans and a 
turtleneck or a tweed sports jacket and slacks. When you go shoppir 
shekels for a long multicolor muffler chat can be thrown over your shoulder or tucked 
inside your coat, depending on your mood. Winter’s almost here, gang. Step lively 


ап over-all polished appearance 


save a few extra 


topcoats go to great 
lengths to bring old man 
winter to his knees 


attire By HOLLIS WAYNE 


Below: Those cold city nights look o little 
brighter in (left) a wool tweed balmacoon over- 
<oot, by Gene Pressmon and Lance Karesh for 
Bosco Sportswear, $450; a shawl scarf, by 
Janice & Jennifer, obout $100; and (right) a 
clossic camel's-hoir coot, $900, plus o wool 
crew-neck, $235, ond о brushed-cotton shirt 
$87.50, oll by Perry Ellis Men Ltd.; ond an 
alpaca tie, by Suson Horton, $24. (Her dress 
by Gil Aimbez for Static.) Right: Wool herring- 
bone trench coot, $950, cotton shirt, $135, 
and wool tie, $30, all Бу DiMitri Couture Ud. 
(The lady's coat by Pat luto for York Furrier.) 


z 
б 
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5 
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5 
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Left: The solid look of leather-backed shearling 
cut in о trench-coat style, $1200, thors worn 
over o cotton ploid shirt, abaut $40, both by 
Jeffrey Banks; ond a silk foulord tie, by Hath- 
away Neckwear, $16.50. (His date’s dress is by 
Patti Coppalli; her coot by Veronico Ryan for 
York Furrier.) Below: The cool of these guys’ 
evening includes (left) о Donegol tweed over- 
coat, by Pierre Cordin's Men's Coots, abaut 
$300; an alpaca muffler, by Ron Splude, $105 
опа o velour fedora, by Peter Borton's Closet, 
$75; ond (right) an imported wool overcoot, 
from Chester Borrie by Hortmorx, obout $650; 
а dress shirt, by Nino Cerruti Shirts, $26; a silk 
tie, by Austin Reed of Regent Street Neckweor, 
$16.50; ond a silk tweed muffler, Бу Ron 
Splude, $90. (The lody's coat by Bill Bloss for 
York Furrier.) Right: Black tie and black leather 
include this storm coat, by Ron Chereskin, 
$900; ond suede woven scarf, by Samelson 
8. Abrams, obout $150; a wool dinner jacket 
and trousers, $325, and a formal shirt, about 
$50, both by Bill Bloss; plus о cotion bow 
tie, by Vicky Davis, $10. (His friend із месг- 
ing a соо! by Kasper for York Furrier.) 


PLAYBOY 


DINNERS WITH ANDREY 


(continued from page 104) 


“At issue was the integrity of the U.S. intelligence 
system. Are there moles in our secret gardens?” 


without so much as an interview.” 

“I am not expert,” he smiled with soft 
eyes and spread hands, “But I know that 
Oswald was not a Soviet agent. My cou 
try did not want to kill your President.” 

I believed that, too, but that didn't 
mean they'd told the truth about Oswald. 
Most probably, the K.G.B. had milked 
him dry about the U-2, forgot about him 
and then, after November 22, 1963, could 
not bring itself to admit having had a rela- 
tionship with him. 

“Of course, you may be correct in your 
suspicions,” said Suvorov. “Because, 1 
mean, I am only third secretary, you see.” 
He smiled. “What do I know? But I think 
this man Nosenko told your Government 
everything about this. Not true?” 

Yuri Nosenko is one ofthe most enigmat- 
ic of the secondary figures in the Kennedy 
case, а K.G.B. colonel who defected in 
place to the United States in 1962 and 
came over bodily carly in 1964. Nosenko 
claimed to have worked in the K.G.B. de- 
partment responsible for the file on Lee 
Harvey Oswald. He said he was in a posi- 
tion to know that Oswald had not been 
questioned by the K.G.B., not recruited by 
it, not dispatched by itand, above all, not 
commanded by it to kill J.F.K. 

Some people in the CIA doubted that 

Nosenko’s story could be true. Those skep- 
tics believed that he was, in fact, a di 
patched agent of the very K.G.B. he was 
pretending to have betrayed and that his 
mission was to mislead us as to the nature 
of the Soviet relationship with Oswald. 
f among those skeptics was James 
Angleton, head of CIA counterintell 
gence. Angleton believed that an impor- 
tant Soviet stratagem for penetrating the 
CIA was the bogus defector. Defectors in 
those years were customarily met here 
with credulous gratitude. Angleton, in 
fact, was deeply committed to a K.G.B. 
defector of his own, one Anatoli M. Golit- 
sin, code named Stone. Sull, Angleton was 
now concerned that among subsequent de- 
fectors there might be a fake, a double 
agent, a mole. He believed that Nosenko 
was such a mole. And Angleton had 
Nosenko in his power. 

For almost three years, Angleton sub- 
jected Nosenko to an interrogation that 
descended to naked psychological torture. 
Many discrepancies іп Nosenko's story 
were established by this means, but 
Nosenko did not change his main story 
about Oswald. 

Then, in mid-1966, Richard Helms be- 
came director of the CIA. One of his first 
acts was to order an intensive revicw of the 


128 Nosenko case; it was potentially explosive 


and it needed to be defused. The ultimate 
result of that review was that in 1968 the 
CIA reversed itself, accepted Nosenko as a 
bona fide defector, gave him back pay for 
the trouble Angleton’s interrogators had 
put him through and hired him as an 
instructor in Soviet counterintelligence 
methods, 

Nosenko’s ‘ation was due also to 
the support received from no less than 
J. Edgar Hoover, who had believed him all 
the time. That was because Hoover also 
had a trusted K.G.B. defector, а man 
med (as came out much later) Victor 
Lessiovski (code named Fedora), who 
assured him that Nosenko was an honest 
traitor. So the question of Nosenko's 
bona fides came down to a dispute 
between Angleton's K.G.B. defector and 
Hoover's: two K.G.B. officers debating 
each other over the authenticity of a 
third’s act of treason, all three of them 
self-declared enemies of their country. 

"The Nosenko story was developing an 
amazing sequel even as Suvorov and I dis- 
cussed it. But only much later, four years 
after my episode with Andrey was over. 
could I realize that he and I had brushed 
the fringes ofa serious struggle under way 
on many fronts—within the FBI, within 
the CIA, between the FBI and the CLA 
and between U.S. intelligence and Soviet 
intelligence—over the bona fides, or the 
quality of the treachery, of those three Red 
rovers crossed over. пе was the 
tegrity of the U.S. intelligence system. Are 
there moles in our secret gardens? 

Suvorov picked up the check while sug- 
gesting that 1 think of writing something 
on J.F.K. for publication in a Soviet maga- 
zine. “Publication could be anonymous, 
naturally,” he said. I nodded and agreed 
that it was an engaging thought. He asked 
if he could call me soon. I said I wouldn't 
mind. I had enjoyed preaching to him 
about Oswald. He hadn't been terribly de- 
fensive. I had to give him points for that. 
Why not do it again? Maybe I would even 
keep a few notes. 


б 

Wednesday, March 22. I answered the 
A.LB. phone. The connection was crackly. 
but 1 could make out Suvorov's voice 
saying, “Hello? Is this Carl?” 

“Yes, is this- 4 

He cut me off: “Hello, Carl, this is 
Andrew.” 

Y listened to the stat 
Then I said, “Yes, Andrew.” 

ke deliberately. “Can you meet 

me for dinner tonight? At seven o'clock? 
By the fountain in DuPont Circle?" 

“Әсе you there,” I said. 

He was ten minutes late but in a jovial 


for a moment. 


mood, laughing about calling himself 
Andrew. “This was just in case someon 
stening into your telephone,” he said. 
“They would not know who I was. You 
caught on quickly." 

I beamed but sensed that he had 
checked off an item on a list of moves. 

He led us to a place called Agostino's. It 
had plastic ivy and orange light but quiet 
tables and huge, philosophical drinks. 

Andrey took a gulp of margarita and 
loosened his tie. The imitation candlelight 
ruddied his cheeks. 

“Аге you married?" he said. 

“Not now,” I answered. 

“Marriage is sometimes difficult, you 
know," he said with a wry chuckle. His 
wifc was having problems with D.C. life. 
“After all,” he said, “I have my work. My 
work is often more than I can do without 
working many hours all the timc. But, you 
know, you have to worry about how your 
wife feels, too. Marie wants to go home.” 

He waved off my sympathy with a зай 
smile and changed the subject. “You have 
never been to Soviet Union?” he said. 

“los loss, I’m sure.” 

“Ah, you should come,” he said. “A 
whole new world would open up to you.” 
He smiled. “You have not seen the world if 
you have not «есп Russia.” 

“It’s tragic,” I said, feeling pompous, 
“that modern people are so cut off from 
one anothe: 

“Soviet Union is very large country. 
Very many different kinds of people.” 

“So one hears,” I said, thinking he 
wouldn't hear the sarcastic edge. But he 
caught it and shot me a questioning look. 1 
tried to make amends (I didn't want to 
offend him) by being more direct. 

“Could I go to your country,” I said, 
“and visit rebellious groups? Could I meet 
freely with Sovict dissidents?” 

“But you are being unfair to a great 
nation,” he said, “to sec us all by these few 
troubled people. You hear only one side.” 

“No offense,” I said, "but to dismiss 
criticism of the Soviet state as the problem 
of a “few troubled people.” I paused. 

“Yes?” he said. 

“You really should be proud of the dissi 
dents, you know.” 

He gave me an amused tilt of the head. 
“They are all troublemakers,” he said. 

“Don’t you think there are times when 
it’s right to make trouble?” 

He said, “You see the dissidents as 
martyrs to liberty because you don’t know 
the facts.” He said thar pleasantly. “You 
don’t know that these people are really 
antisocial thugs, And hooligans. Some of 
them are mad.” 

“Ро you personally think that anyone 
who criticizes the Soviet government has 
to be crazy?” 

“ОГ course not. You cannot think such a 
thing, really. There is much to criticize, 
much to improve. We drink too much vod- 
Ка. Our workers are too slow. The black 


(continued on page 200) 


BERNARP 


HEY. FARE WIKTEVER. 

MAD O “HE, 

SIXTIES CHICK? 
/ 


50 TE I COULD TEL 
АТН? AND SEY OUST 
LIGHT ANOTHER JONT- 
ате: 
SN P 


А 


129 


2О QUESTIONS: BUBBA SMITH 


the ex—football heavy with the lite television touch —on 
watermelon, women and his charge that n.f.l. games were rigged 


hen Bubba Smith does his Miller Lite 

Beer commercials, the public sees a self- 
parodying giant. Opponents who faced the 
former Baltimore Colts All-Pro defensive end 
saw a different person—a football player 
whose just-published autobiography “Kill, 
Bubba, Kill!” is not inappropriately titled. 
Craig Modderno met with Bubba in Toronto, 
where he was filming the movie “Police 
Acadei His report: “Bubba is funny, shy, 
bright, soft-spoken and calls everyone Babe. 
His idea of a fun night on the town is taking 
a writer to a gym, asking the journalist his 
weight and then bench pressing twice that 
amount. People mispronounce his first name, 
but nobody ever makes fun of it.” 


In your book, you imply that the 
uper Bowl game between the Colts 


1969 5 


and the New York Jets was fixed. What 
makes you u 


ink so? 
ent into the game an 18-point 
rite. The Jets weren't fit to be on the 
field with из. We had just set a record as 
the best defensive team in the N.F.L. I 
knew something was wrong the morning of 
the game. We got inside the 20- or 30-yard 
line three times the first half and came 
away with no points. A bookie in New 
York and members of the N.F.L. Players 
Association told me that the game was sel 
up, because if the old A.F.L. didn't estab- 
lish credibility with the N.F.L. b: 
year, the merger would пе 
That Super Bowl game, w! 
nine points, was the critical year. 7 
game just scemed too odd to me. 
thing was out of place. [ tried to г; 
ize that our coach, Don Shula, got 
outcoached, but that wasn't the case. I 
don't know if any of my teammates were 
in on the fix. Pve never said anyth 
10 them about my suspicions, becausc 
didn't want to believe it and I still don’t 
T love football. 


2 


тлүвоу: How difficult would it be to fix a 
pro football game today? 

SMITH: You'd need at least two key mem 
bers of the offense to be in on it: a flanker 
то drop a few passes or fumble in a key mo- 
ment and a quarterback to throw a key 
interception or to fumble. On the other 
hand, a defensive back's slipping at a key 
moment can result in an important touch- 
down for the offense. A missed downfield 
tackle can have the same ellect. Everybody 


PHOTOGRAPHY By PENNY WOUN 


can fail. That's why fans don't question 
errors on the playing field. 


3. 


PLAYBOY: Has organized crime infiltrated 
pro football? 

satu: [Shakes head, pauses] You know just 
like I know, and everyone else does, too. 
Bookies know everyone who is hurt the 
day before the game, and that’s not sup- 
posed to get out. How do you think they 
establish the betting odds? The owners 
control everything that happens in the 
N.F.L. If Pete Rozelle gets out of line 
and causes waves, the owners will fire 
him. I was told that the then—Baltimore 
Colts owner, Carroll Rosenbloom, bet 
$1,000,000 on the Jets in the 1969 Super 
Bowl. It was ironic that the next year, the 
Colts joined the American Football Con- 
ference, one of only three established 
NF.L. franchises to do so. Where was 
Rozelle during all that? But the N.F.L. has 
been very good to me. It just happened 
that I was part of something I didn’t think 
was right. There are no sour grapes on my 
part about that game, because later, we 
won the Super Bowl. 


4. 


PLAYBOY: You filed a negligence lawsuit 
against the N.F.L. fora knee injury you re- 
ceived while running into a down marker 
during a Colts game 
Were you amazed at the ve response 
you got from your fellow athletes? 

smith: I saw people I admired lie for the 
N.F.L. Somebody was bought olf. The 
judge had to keep telling the witne: 
make sure not to perjure themse 
a loyal Colt. When you put cveryt 
an organization, as I did with the Colts, 
and you find out that it doesn't care, man, 
that shit hurts, The Golts knew I was dam- 
aged goods when they traded me to the 
Raiders. The league knew that also. The 
Colts had me practice the day Ї was 
traded. As soon as I tackled the quarter- 
back, the coach screamed at me not to hurt 
myself. Later that night, I had to show 
rookic linemen how to tackle the quarter- 
back for two hours. All this happened be- 
fore they told me I was traded. And when 
I went to court, I realized why my salary 
wipled when I got traded. The 
claimed I was making my highest salary at 
the time I was saying 1 was hurt. [Raiders 
owner Al] Davis had to know I was 


aged goods when he traded for me. Ed 
Garvey, the former head of the N.F.L. 
Players Association, wouldn't testify on 
my behalf, even though he was staying 
only 20 miles away. ТІ 
tion should be happy that it’s finally got- 
ten rid of Garvey. In my opinion, he acted 
as if the N.F.L. owners owned him. 


5. 


ruayıoy: How widespread arc payments to 
college athletes by alumni? Do some col- 
lege jocks make more money than profes- 
sional athletes? 

smith: That depends on whom they have 
negotiating for them. Any university that's 
winning ball games is giving its athletes 
something extra to make college life casier. 
When I was 16, Ше University of Iowa lent 
me a car for a weck and gave me moncy so 
I would put in a good word to my older 
brother Beaver to attend it. The schools 
make a lot of money from television on 
their athletic programs. I remember that 
after my junior year at Michigan State, 
three of my teammates had Dodge Darts. 
My football coach claimed that he didn't 
now where they had gotten them, but 
they sure couldn't afford them. College 
teams today are just like the pros. They go 
after the best athletes money can buy. 


6. 


м.хувоу: Is the sexual drawing power of 
N.F.L. players exaggerated? 

: If you're a ballplayer of any status, 
ou run across at least three women in ev- 
егу city who want to play with you. When 
I was а young player, I had sex with more 
than 1000 women. It was an ego thing. 
When Mel Farr and 1 were roommates at 
the College All-Star game, а girl came up 
10 our room. She told us she had been out 
with Jim Brown at a previous All-Star 
game. We couldn't have sex with her after 
that. We realized she was too old for us. 


ТБ 


плуюу: Сап sex before a game sap a play- 
еге strength? 

SMITH: It never did mine. I had a theory 
that in order for me to be loose, I had to 
have sex the night before a game. IF] was 
with a woman, it took my mind away from 
the tension or the importance of the game. 
If a girl ever got in a locker room during 
half time and had sex with a player, it 
wouldn't last (continued on page 172) 


131 


was alone at home, sitting, 

standing and lying around my 
apartment, reading, watching the 
tube, going over the accounts and 
working a two-month-old Times 
Triple Crostic—I' had fallen a lit- 
tle behind— when the outercom 
buzzer gave my signal. 

“ГІ get it!” I shouted simul- 
taneously, but since Г was closest, 
P took it. 

“Joe Kilborn speaking,” T 

“Which Joe Kilborn is this?" a 
guarded voice asked. 

That was the standard opener. It 
didn't bother me™ anymore, but 


0 TWASa warm spring evening. I 


T? still got annoyed sometimes. 
“There's only one, mister, and 
you're speaking to him," I’ said. 

“Have 1 got the right number? Is 
this zone 709, area 266, line 3581, 
outercom 944-302- Б 

“You know it is, mister. Тһе 
Lucky Clover Detective Agency, 
Joe Kilborn sole owner and pro- 
prietor. What's your problem?” 

He hesitated. They usually do. 
While I‘ waited, I' asked, “Who is 
HESS 

I covered the speaker with my 
hand. “А client, maybe." 

"Another dumb solo," I’ said 
irritably. (continued on page 136) 


fiction 


By JOHN MORRESSY 


"there's only one of me," i said. 
"i just happen to have eight arms and four heads” 


We А АТЛЕТТЕР 


theismann award-winning tips for face and follicles 
modern living By KENNEDY FLYNN 


“THE PLAYS the thing,” William 
Shakespeare said, but maybe he 
meant “the plan.” When we decided 
to do а face-and-hair-grooming 
guide, we turned to Washington 
Redskins quarterback Joe Theis- 
mann—a player who has faced the 
best of times and the worst of 
times—to illustrate our survival-of- 
the-fittest point of view on skin- 
and-hair care. When Theismann 
confronts the man in the mirror, he 
has his grooming game plan 
together. Locker-room savvy de- 
mands that he tackle his beard after 
a requisite hot shower. The hcat and 
the steam score points as beard 
softeners, since hot water reduces 
the friction and the pull of a shave 
by 30 percent. Dry whiskers have 
the tensile strength of aluminum, 
but a beard softened by steam or hot 
water absorbs one third of its own 


weight (concluded on page 230) 


C R Os© NAS, 


Left: Next to the heavyweight “Hogs” 
who saved Joe Theismann’s skin in 
many a play during last year’s Super 
Bowl, the line-up he likes best far tan- 
ing up face and hair cansists of the 
grooming products in front af him. 
They are, from left ta right: Blue Саз- 
pian Sea Phase II Skin Taner far Oily 
Skin, by Jan Stuart Natural Skin Core 
for Men, $9; Klinger Moisturizer far 
Меп, by Geargette Klinger, $18.50; 
Marbert Man Face Fitness Mosk, 
$23.50; Paco Rabanne Pour Hamme 
after-shave, $19.50; Gambler calogne 
far men, by Jovan, $14; Yves Saint 
Laurent Pour Hamme Face Protectian 
Cream, $10.50; Chanel for Men can- 
ditioning shampoo, $7.50; Eau Sou- 
уаде After Shave Balm, by Christian 
Diar, $20; Brut 33 Creme Shave, by 
Fabergé, 82; RK Prescription far 
Men Essential Moisture Shampoa, by 
Redken Laborataries, $3.95; Clinique 
Skin Supplies far Men foce soap, Бу 
Clinique Laboratories, $8.50; Aramis 
Maltplexx natural hair gel, $7.50; and 
Saxon Aftershave Skin Conditioner, 
by Richardsan-Vicks, about $3.50. 


PHOTOGRAPHY BY DAVIO SHARPE 


PLAYBOY 


9 El TORI Y 


(continued from page 132) 


“Tue been trying to keep it quiet, but last night was the 


fourth attempt. I can't handle it by myself any longer. 


ووو 


“Ве tolerant,” P replied. 

“I'm sorry, Kilborn,” the caller said, 
sounding as m he meant it. “Pin pretty 
се.... Гус gota bad problem, and 
aire din only onesie anit aso 
can help me. Can you come to my place 
right away?” 

“Depends on where your place is. And 
who you аге.” 

"I'm Anthony Sibbrel, and the address 
is 614 Level 97, Eastblock.”” 

“Sibbrel? Are you апу tion to" 

“She's my daughter, Kilborn. I can't 
say any more over the outercom. Are you 
interested?” 

1f Glory Sibbrel is your daughter, you 
don't have to say more. People are in- 
terested. 

P# saw ту? eyebrows go up and started 
crowding around me’. ІЗ raised a hand, 
shook my? head and said, “Interested, Sib- 
brel. I'll be right over. 

I caught a roller just outside the build- 
ing and reached Sibbrel's place before 
dark. Eastblock was a class neighborhood, 
and 97 was the classiest level in Eastblock. 
Even the security men at thc entrancc 
looked as if they could read and write. I 
tried them out with my license. 

“Тһе sergeant took a quick glance and 
asked, "Which one of you guys is Joe Kil- 
born?" 

"Lam," I said as one man. 

“Now, wait a minute,” he said, reaching 
for his needler. 

"Read the license," 1° said. 
there.” 

He glared at me’, but he read it, and the 
light dawned. “Clones! 

“A clone, actually, 
politely. 

“What do you mean? There’s four of 
you.” 

“There's only one of me,” 1! said. He 
stared up, uncomprehending, and F 
added, “I just happen to have eight arms 
and four heads. They come in handy 
sometimes.” 

The sergeant looked back and forth 
from me! to the picture on the license, then 
back to me? again. He shook his head, 
threw up his hands and said, “Dll tell Mr. 
Sibbrel you're here.” 

Sibbrel was cager. He answered the in- 
tercom a split second after it was con- 
nected, and I was soon on my way up, 
with four armed guards to escort me right 
to his door. Hc opened it himself. 

“Come in, Kilborn. Come right in and 
make yourselves—make yourscl—com- 
fortable,” Sibbrel said. He was trying 


“Irs all 


I' corrected him 


із hard. 


I sank into a soft air chair, settled at 
both ends of a sofa and perched on the 
edge of what looked like а genuine wooden 
table. Sibbrel was jumpy. While he paced 
the rug and wrung his hands, I took a fast 
look around. 

"The room looked like the Official Glory 
Sibbrel Shrine and Museum. Cabinets 
were packed with her trophies, medals and 
awards. Scrolls, honorary degrees, pic- 
tures—both flats and hollies—and 
assorted memorabilia covered the walls. 
Everywhere I looked there was evidence of 
a grateful world and an adoring father. 

Between the two huge north windows, 
where Sibbrel could see it when he looked 
up from his desk, was a life-sized hollie of 
the famous picture taken on America’s 
Glory Day, just three months before. 
Probably more people in the world had 
scen that picture than had seen the noon- 
day sun. 

Tt was the homecoming scene. Glory 
was just back from Europe, still in her 
skintight blue flying gear. It was her first 
flight since the near-tragic accident a year 
earlier. She'd beaten Parobochek for the 
world chess championship earlier in the 
week and had stopped off at Stockholm to 
pick up her Nobel Prize for her discoveries 
in plasma physics—something to do with 
magnetohydrodynamic containment; 1" 
vaguely understood it, but it was а mys- 
tery to mel”, 

The President was waiting to greet her 
and to receive her report on the meetings 
with the Russian leaders. The photog- 
rapher had tried to be kind to the Presi- 
dent, but all the same, she had faded into 
the background, dim and dumpy. Other 
women always looked that way around 
Glory Sibbrel. She was the first day of 
spring, set in gold. 

“Someone's after my daughter, Kil- 
born,” Sibbrel blurted in a shaky voice. 
He cleared his throat and went on. “I’ve 
been trying to keep it quiet, but last night 
was the fourth attempt. I can’t handle it 
by myself any longer.” 

“Kidnapers? Extortionists?" [' asked. 

“Snip-and-runners,” he said. 

I> gave a low whistle and 1' said, 
“They're bad people to have after you. 
Professionals, every one, and they get 
what they go after.” 

“They haven't, so far. I want you to 
make sure it stays that way.” 

“Are you positive? Snip-and-runners 
have ways of —” I began. 

"I'm positive,” Sibbrel broke in. 

"Where's Miss Sibbrel now?" I’ asked. 


"She's right here in the apartment, 
safe.” 

“Pd like to talk to her,” Г said. 

“She can't be disturbed, Kilborn. Doc- 
tor’s strict orders. She was a little shaken 
up last night. It was close." 

“There’s an casy solution to the prob- 
lem,” I said. “You must have standing 
offers from every major cloning corpora- 
tion in the world. Why not just accept the 
best offer? An authorized, legitimate duper 
gives its originals the best protection avai 
able. You can bet that Dittocorp or Mimi 
ог any of the others would have an army of 
Sibbrel 


Sibbrel shook his head, staring off at 
Glory's picture. “There's more to this than 
just fear ofa snip-and-run attack, 
Glory's protected by some of the best 
bodyguards in the business. She never 
even knew about the first three attempts. 
No, this is something bigger." He pauscd, 
gnawed at his lip and looked agonized. He 
didn’t want to say any more, but he knew 
he had to. “What Pm telling you now is in 
the strictest confidence. Not a word of this 
is to leak, Kilborn.” 

“It won't," I said simultaneously. 

“Last month, Glory became engaged to 
H. H. Harrington. She had turned him 
down four times before her accident, but 
he's a persistent man. Last month, he 
asked again and she said yes.” 

Right then, my professional ethics 
pinched. For this news, 1 could name my 
price to any fax in the business. I could 
picture the flash line: “хову MOST LOVED 
WOMAN TO MARRY WORLD'S RICHEST MAN.” But 
confider means confidential, whatever 
the price. I sighed and nodded in perfect 
unison. 

“I suppose you're awarc of Harrington's 
opinions on cloning,” Sibbrel went on. 
“Не doesn't keep them hidden.” 

“When he's in a good mood, cloning is 
‘an abomination’ or “а perversion of па- 
ture" Usually, he's not that pleasant,” I 
said. 

"That's right. I'm sorry, Kilborn. Har- 
rington’s not a bad man, but he has a 
bad blind spot. I happen not to share his 
views on the subject. In fact, some of my 
best. 

“Never mind, Sibbrel,” I’ cut in. 

“ОГ course. Well -” Sibbrel swal- 
lowed, looked uncomfortable, then went 
ahead with his story. “It comes down to 
this. If Harrington thinks that a snip-and- 
runner has taken a cutting of Glory, the 
marriage will be off. If we contract for a 
legitimate cloning, it's off even faster. And 
as soon as word gets out, Glory's life and 
career are ruined." 

“Em afraid I don't follow your logic, 
Sibbrel.” I* said. 

“The whole mystique of Glory Sibbrel is 
that she's an ordinary woman, а solo 
who's accomplished more in a young life 

(continued on page 194) 


е 


sports By ARTHUR SHAY 


HIGH-VOLTAGE 
RACQUETBALL 


with half of the country's players 
пош at the a or b level, here are 
some tools to help hot-wire your game 


mack: Born іп the Sixties and just ending a wild 
growth spurt in adolescence, racquetball is the 
world's fastest-rising sport. It won't be played at the 
1984 Olympics (it's several countries short of the 25 required 
for eventhood), but the little blue ball will probably make its 
first international bounce at the 1987 Pan American Games. 

Meanwhile, back in the friendly confines of 30,000 Amer- 
ican courts, the one-and-a-half-billion-dollar racquetball 
industry serves 10,000,000 panting participants. As it gets 
older, the game seems only to be getting better. A recent 
industry survey reveals that for the first time, more than half 


ILLUSTRATION BY WILL NELSON 


of all racquetballers play at the A and B 
levels. What that means is that the level 
of play is rising faster than a well- 
struck ceiling shot. Now that they out- 
number the duffers, that hard core of 
5,000,000 A and В players іс looking to 
ascend competitive ladders at clubs all 
over the country. 

But as Butch and the Kid might have 

id, peering through Plexiglas gog- 
gles, "Who are those guys?" Who are 
all those ardent A and B players swing- 
img airplane-grade-graphite racquets 
and darting around on white-soled 
shoes? Are you one of them? If so, 
you've reached a point at which you're 
better (һап most C players and the 
novices, but are you really that good? 

The answer from racquetball insid- 
ers is: No, you're really not. You prob- 
ably crush your weekend competition 
and do pretty well at home-club 
tournaments. But then you sign up for 
an intraclub or city meet, falter badly 
and lose to inferior—but more me- 
thodical— players. 

Does that scenario sound familiar? If 
so, what's the matter with you? 

What's the matter is that, all too 
often, even good players make too 
many unforced errors, miss shots they 
know they should put away and ground 
balls they know they'd return against 
their regular home-club competition. 

What can be done? Can our vast 
army of A and B players find salvation 
in better fundamentals? 

"Of course!" says Chuck Sheftel, 
head of the American Professional 
Racquetball Organization. “Even 
though the quality of play has risen 
markedly in the past two years, there's 
plenty of room for improvement.” 

Part of the problem, according to 
Sheftel, is that racquetball is such an 
easy game to pick up. After five min- 
utes of practice, most tennis players, 
squash players and even ping-pongers 
find they can keep a racquetball wing- 
ing around the court with surprising 
skill. “Racquetball is such a forgiving 
game,” he says, “that fun has begun 
to pass for proficiency. A lot of that 
В- and A-level proficiency—those wild 
charges in which a shot із barely re- 
turned to the front wall—is built on 
poor Foundations. Many players have 
never worked on their fundamentals: 
forehand, backhand, hard serve, soft 
serve. They came to the courts with 
minimal instruction. If a player like 
that has a knack for handling the racquet 
and chasing the ball and, God forbid, 
wins, that's when you һауе a problem. 
You get a player who will improve only 
up to a certain point. Bad habits will 
harden into his or her regular game.” 

You can guess what happens then. 
Against solid competition, such а play- 
er won't get (continued on page 186) 


We found a Lightning 
Man to strut the stuff 
electrifying racquet- 
ball is made of (right), 
but using your latent 
body power, you can 
learn to strike the same 
way. бей up as shown, 
legs a stride apart, 
knees flexed. The mo- 
ment the incoming ball 
enters your hitting 
zone, your forword foot 
thrusts wallward, your 
torso and shoulders 
uncoil and—most cru- 
cial—you snap your 
wrist into the ball. The 
wrist is your body's 
bridge for getting its 
power transferred to 
the ball. The arrow in 
the picture represents 
that vital wrist snap— 
racquetball's power 
line. Many of the 
most successful players 
say the wrist snap соп- 
stitutes more than 50 
Percent of their game! 


DIAGRAMS BY MAE ENRIQUEZ 


THE PINCH (far left, below): You're 
close to center court. Your opponent, 
knowing and fearing all those 
straight-back passing shots you hit, 
stands tensed for yet another. In- 
stead, you fire the ball off the side 
wall. It angles to the front and dies or 
skitters out of reach. The pinch is an 
excellent change-of-pace shot. THE 
CEILING SHOT (far left, above): 
You're deep in the court and your foe 
expects an easy setup. But you just 
drive the ball to the ceiling, within 
six feet of the front wall. The ball 
kisses the ceiling, caroms off the 
front wall, loops down the side line, 
bounces once, then, ideal 
in a back corner. The cei 
offensive and defensive, gi 
players a chance to re: „THE MOV- 
ING SERVE (left): You've got the ball 
in your hand, so you may as well 
do something offensive. Starting 
near the left wall, take a step or two 
toward mid-court. From there, you 
can drive your serve into either cor- 
ner. And since you're moving as you 
serve, you have to block your oppo- 
nent's view momentarily. Too bad. 


PLAYBOY 


140 


“Bul where is all this leading us, Senator 


"—'60 Minutes, 
20/20, ‘CBS Reports’... ?" 


yonosuke to the reseue кот The Lite of an Amorous Man, by Ihara Saikaku, 1682 


“AMONG ALL women,” said Yonosuk: 
young widow is perhaps the easiest 10 
seduce. Consider her state of mind as the 
months pass by after the funeral. She 
walks about with vacant eyes. On stormy 
nights, when the thunder rolls and the rain 
beats down, there arc leaks everywhere, 
because she has forgotten to have the roof 
mended. She awakes from a bad dream 
and remembers how she used to nestle 
close to her husband. She thinks of suicide 
or even of becoming a nun 

“1 myself,” Yonosuke added, “was once 
able to help one of these poor creatures on 
the road to recovery. Perhaps you would 
care to hear the story? 

“I had just come out of the playhouse 
after seeing a good ballad drama, and I 
was in a beneficent mood. Suddenly, on 
the street, a young woman accosted me, 
saying, ‘Moshi, moshi, please, sir, may 1 
speak with you privately about a most ur- 
gent matter? She was decently dressed 
and respectable in appearance, and so I 
took her off to a nearby tearoom to hear 
her story." 

When they were scated, he said, she be- 
gan, in a low voice: “I must beg your par- 
don for disturbing you so. І am a waiting 
maid in the service of a young lady recent- 
ly bereaved. My mistress has no friends or 
family nearby, and now that she is under 
the evil spell of one who has come into her 
life only recently, we must find help. She 
knows you by reputation, Yonosuke-san, 
and she has admired your strong and 
handsome appearance from afar. She 
сгауез your assistance to rid her of her 
terrible enslavement, and if you consent to 
help, she will be grateful forever." 

“I am moved to know that the lady has 
chosen me to be her rescuer, but, please. 
may I know what task it is I am being 
asked to perform?" 

She requires you for a duel. You must 
kill her enemy. "Then you must wicld his 
power yourself." 

That, Yonosuke related, was a powerful 
appeal to his sense of chivalry. He could 
not ignore or reject a request so desperate- 
ly put. He accepted and bade the girl 
duce the enemy to appear within the hour 
at the meadow near the Ryosan temple. 

Yonosuke returned to his quarters and 
put on his armor. He tied a white sweat- 
band around his head. He tested his sword 
for the sharpness of its edge. Then he set 
off for the mecting. 

To his surprise, the maid was seated all 
alone when he arrived at the ducling place. 

Yonosuke called ош to her, “Where is 
he? Who is this enemy and what is his 
name? Has he not agreed to appear?” 


Тһе maid placed a small brocade Ба 
Yonosuke's hand and, in a small v« 
said, “Неге he is. Open it and see for your- 
self." Then she hid her face in the flowing 
slecve of her kimono. 

In astonishment, Yonosuke opened the 
bag; before his startled eyes was a large, 
white, perfect male penis. It was carved оГ 
ivory and it was so cleverly made, even to 
the texture of the skin and the little swell- 
ings of the veins, that it seemed to be alive. 

Yonosuke's face flushed with anger. 
“You have tricked me,” he said. “Неге am 
1, a gentleman responding to a plea of dis 
tress from a lady. And I show myself will- 
ing to risk my life. And now you and your 
mistress have lied to me and made a fool 


id's face showed a mingling of 
fear and shame. She knelt before him and 
began to cry. “Please believe me—my mis- 
tress is not to blame. This is quite my own 
scheme. You sec, some wecks after her 
husband died, she found a merchant who 
would sell her this object. She brought it 
home with her, and soon it had become her 
worst habit, her greatest need, the enemy 
under her own roof that dominated her 
thoughts day and night. 

“Kind sir. I could not tell you the truth 
about the form of this enemy or you would 


ILLUSTRATION BY BRAD HOLLAND. 


Ribald Clas: 


have laughed at me. Therefore, I was 
forced to pretend that the enemy was a 
warrior. Forgive me, and believe that the 
menace is no less real.” 

Yonosuke was tormented with indeci- 
sion and stood staring at the maid. Shyly, 
she drew from her bag a handful of gold 
coins and put them in his hand. "When 
you have killed the enemy, we shall expect 
you at"—and here she named the ad- 
dress—"tomorrow evening.” She smiled 
for the first time, turned апа, with little 
running steps, crossed the meadow and 
was out of sight. 

Yonosuke looked at the thing one 
hand and at the gold in the other and 
cursed himself. He was a fool who had 
been taken in by a little maid! And now, a 
fool who had been paid to become a male 
concubine! It was outrageous. But then һе 
began to think about his rendezvous with 
the pretty widow. Should he, perhaps, 
overlook the trickery? 

A little boy crossing the meadow a few. 
minutes later had a great fright and ran 
home. He told his parents that he had seen 
a man in the field busily chopping up a 
penis with a sword. His mother and his 
father told him sternly to stop making ир 
such revolting lies. 


—Retold by Ken Matsuda ЁЙ 


141 


COMEDIES, TEEN SAGAS AND 
NEWLY POPULAR FOREIGN FILMS 
HEAT UP THE SCREEN THIS YEAR 


article By ARTHUR KNIGHT Any ycar that 
brings us not one but two James Bond movies— 
one starring the urbane Roger Moore, the other 
the unflappable Scan Connery— can't be all bad. 
On thc other hand, any year that brings us better 
than a dozen cartoon-strip Star Wars spin-offs, in 
which not only the animation but also the plots 
seem computer produced, has a lot to answer for. 
Sex, it would seem, has been temporarily shelved 
in favor of special effects, at least in the mega- 
buck attractions that have been luring the kids to 
the wickets, with George L s' Return of the 
Jedi already pegged as one of the biggest grossers 
ever. True, in that opus, Princess Leia is briefly 
threatened with ravishment by the monstrous 
Jabba the Hutt (looking for all the world like a 
huge beached walrus); but the modus operandi of 
such a union is as baffling and unlikely as that of 
King Kong with Jessica Lange. And even though 
Carrie Fisher is garbed in a slinky, seductive 
gown, one has the feeling that old Jabba could do 
better than Leia, while her romantic interlude 
with Harrison Ford is as idyllic as shampoo 


commercial—and just ahout as brief. 

What seems to be happening is a deliberate 
return to films fashioned for the 12-year-old 
mentality, with everything geared for action and 
escape, not unlike (text continued on page 160) 


THE RIGHT MOVES: There's nothing like a 
hot beat to set audiences' juices flowing—and, 
studios hope, the turnstiles whirling. Marine 
Jahan (left) does the fancy stepping for Jennifer 
Beals in Flashdance; John Travolta (right) strives 
to keep Tony Manero on top in Staying Alive. 


FORMULA FUN: We know what to ex- 
pect from a Star Wars installment or a 
James Bond thriller: The real action takes 
place out of bed. Carrie Fisher displays 
more than usual for Jabba the Hutt іп Re- 
turn of the Jedi; Suzanne Jerome mas- 
sages Maud Adams in Octopussy (below); 


| and Sean Connery dallies with Barbara 


Carrera in Never Say Never Again (bottom). 


Кк 
(6! 0 | ІІ 17 
v 3 e 


Pr A 


PIONEER SPE/ 


= „= eg - 
Kablowee, Blam. Bam. Boom. 

Its not World War III, ladies and gentlemen. 

Merely the introduction of our new Maxxial” 6x9 
car speakers, An introduction that doesn't exactly lend 
itself to peace and quiet. 

Because these are the most awesome sounding 
speakers yet. With greater power handling capacity. 

Great enough, in fact, to handle up to 100 watts of 
Max Music Power—a method of measurement compa- 
rable to the one used to rate the power capacity of our 
home speakers. 

Our newly eue voice coil uses a slightly larger 
wire. It worit break down because of overheating. And it 


PLEASE KEEP YOUR CA 


“а 


о کک‎ о” 2 
сап withstand (you guessed it) greater power 
So you can imagine what kind of meltdown our 
speakers will put the old eardrums through when you 
actually roll those car windows up and listen to them in the 
intimate confines of your cars interior 

But sorry all you power-hungry people. The story here 
isnt power alone. 


We use a Strontium Magnet. 175 more efficient, giving 
you greater sound per watt. 

And to produce an even better separation of highs, 
midranges and lows, our Maxxial 3 and 4-way speakers 
contain an extra driver. 

Pure and accurate tonal quality. High efficiency and 


KER OWNERS: 
R WINDOWS ROLLED UP 


"m" 
А: E : , BES 
Yee Sees ^ \ 

Y 7 4 


Ж; xy 


| = po. e, 
x GE 5 м 27 Sr ғ т cs 
en Um ad^ VER pe Rene so ns 
wide frequency response.These are qualities youve come > 
to expect from a speaker made by Pioneer 
Which is exactly why we still make the components 
for them ourselves. That way we can meet our standards 
of quality And yours. 

Speaking of which, our quality control tests virtually 
drive our speakers to the edge. So while they produce 
sound that seems like itll destroy everything within a 
12-block radius, the speakers themselves are virtually 
indestructible. = 

Now for the most thunderous announcement yet. All e 
this improvement in our speakers, ata price that's designed IONEER 
to get you to gravitale toward power Not away from it. Because the music matters. 


=... 


is rock 'n’ roll king? you tell us 


۸ саг, don't say that nobody told you to. While David Bowie proposed Let's Dance, the durable Kinks 
doubled back with Come Dancing and Don't Forget lo Dance. And just about everybody was tripping down Electric Avenue. No 
wonder all the women were wearing Danskins this year. If you're able to stop long enough to catch your breath, you сап 
register your opinion of all this bopping floor-board action in the annual Playboy Music Poll. You'll find our suggestions listed 

scd your favorite, a write-in is fine. But, please, if you're voting for someone whose name does appear on 

lot counters and use the number beside the name. When you finished опе, flip the ballot over and 

make your choices for Hall of Fame and Best LP categories. Only official ballots count, and they must be postmarked before 
midnight, November 1, 1983. For the beat оп how you voted, look at ош 1984 issue. Meanwhile, keep оп danci 


LIST YOUR CHOICES IN THE 1984 PLAYBOY MUSIC POLL 
BY NUMBER ON THE ACCOMPANYING BALLOT 


Ra 
Bob Dylan 
Daryl Hall 

|. Michael Jackson 
Mick Jagger 


. Paul McCartney 
jeve Perry 

Tom Petty 

Robert KEN: 


21. Sting 
2. George Thorogood 
23. Peter Wolf 


Female Vocalist 


1. Pat Benatar 
2. Karla Bonoff 

3. Belinda Carlisle 
+ Carlene Сапег 
5. Martha Davis 
©. 
7. 
8. 
9 
0 


Sheena Easton. 
Marianne Faithfull 
. Deborah Harry 


Juice N 
16. Olivia Newton-John 
17. Stevie Nicks 


18. Linda Ronstadt 


Ann Wilson 


Guitar 


L Adrian Belew 
2. Егіс Clapton 


Ry Cooder 
- Steve Cropper 
Glenn Frey 
. Jerry Garcia 


3 
+ 
5. 
©. 
7. Mark Knopfler 
8. 
9 
0. 
1 


David Lindley 
Jimmy Page 
Robert e 
12. Bonnie 
13. Keith Richards 

'arlos Santana 

hard Thompson 
16. Peter Townshes 
17. James “Blood 
18. Waddy Wachtel 
Walsh 


Roy Bittan 

Jackson Browne 

ith Emerson 
n Eno 

opkins 

Joe Jackson 

Billy Joel 

Jerry Lec Lewis 

Bill Payne 

Mac Rebennack 

. Todd Rundgren 

Allen Toussaint 

|. Neil Young 


L 
2 
3 
4 
5 
6 
7 
8. 
9 

10. 

n 

12. 

13. 


Drums 


1. Carmine Appice 
2 Phil Collins 


3. Stewart Copeland 
3. Mick Fleetwood 
5. Bill Kreutzmann 
©. 
7. 
8. 


195 


Russ Kunkel 


1L. Mat Weinberg 


‘Talking Heads 
Van Halen 


|. Who 


RHYTHM-AND-BLUES 
Male Vocalist 


12. Pick Withers Pies wen. 
3. Peabo Bryson 
4 
Bass 5 J 
Jack Bruce SR 
lo Chake unn В. Michael Henderson 
Jobn Entwistle о өлөн 
dern. 10. Michacl Jackson. 
ору Paul Jones E 
Greg Lake z 
Phil Lesh 
ач 14. Smickey Robinson 
a 15. Narada Michael Walden 
Lee Sklar 16. Stevie Wonder 
Garry Tallent 
Klaus Voormann, p 
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Lionel Richie, Jr. 


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Gap Band. 
Isley Broth 
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Temptations 


JAZZ 
Mole Vocalist 


Mose Allison 
Tony Bennett 
George Benson 
Rav Charles 
Bob Dorough 
Billy Eckstine 
Michael Franks 
Al Jarreau 
Bobby McFerrin 
Milton Nascimento 
Lou Rawls 


. Gil Scott-Heron 


Frank Sinatra 
Mel Tormé 
Joc Williams 


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Put down ihe NUMBERS of listed candidates you 
‚choose. To vote for a person not appearing on our list, 
write in full name; only one in each category. 


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FEMALE VOCALIST. 
GUITAR. 


KEYBOARDS. 


DRUMS. 


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FEMALE VOCALIST. 
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FEMALE VOCALIST. 
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GUITAR. 


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PERCUSSION. 
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MALE VOCALIST. 

FEMALE VOCALIST. 

STRING INSTRUMENTALIST. 
COMPOSER/SONGWRITER. 
GROUP. 


THE LIST OF NAMES ACCOMPANYING THIS BALLOT 
IS INTENDED ONLY AS А GUIDE TO HELP YOU WITH 
YOUR CHOICES 


Female Vocalist 11. Buddy Montgomery 15. Spyro Суга 


E EAS 12 Red Noro i, 16. Weather Report 
Angela Bofill ТЕ Keith Underwood 
Шеге мк кенді 15. Tommy Vig COUNTRY-AND-WESTERN 
. Urszula Dudziak Male Vocalist 
Ea каздын 1. Johnny Cash 
dne А 2. Charlie Daniels 
Carmen McRae ^ Amen 
Flora Purim = АДЕ рг 
Della Reese Ra jaylon Jennings 
FE UM 5. Larry Coryell 5 en 
NICE WIR 6. Al DiMeola 8. Ronnie Milsap 
уа 7. Herb Ellis 9. Willie Nelson 
8. Eric Gale 10. Eddie Rabbitt 
9. Jim Hall 11. Jerry Reed 
Pus MEE 12. Kenny Rogers 
. John Mc i 13. Ricky Skaggs 
Nat Adderley 12. Pat Metheny 14 Don Williams 
Herb Alpert 13. Joe Pass 15. Hank Williams, Jr. 
| Chet Baker 3. Lee Ritenour 
Lester Bowie 15. Ralph Towner 
Randy Brecker Female Vocalist 
Кар Siu LR Cash 
. Donald Byrd оваппе Cash 
|. Don Cherry фан, 2. Rita Coolidge 
|. Miles Davis 1. Ray Brown 3. Lacy J. Dalton 
. Jon Faddis 2. Mike Bruce 4. Janie Fricke 
| 11. Maynard Ferguson 3. Joe Byrd 5. Crystal Gayle 
| 12 Diz 3 3. Ron Carter 6. Terni Gibbs 
13. Freddi 5. Stanley Clarke 7. Emmylou Harris 
| 1# J; J. Johnson 6. Bob Cranshaw 8. Loretta Lynn 
15. Chuck Mangione 7. Art Davis 9. Barbara Mandrell 
| 16. Wynton Marsalis 8. Eddie Gomer 10. Charly McClain. 
| 17. Doc Severinsen 9. Percy Heath И. Reba McEntire 
18. Clark Terry 10. Carol Kaye 12. Dolly Parton 
| 19; Bill Watrous 1 Ceci Melee 13. бума 
| 12. Monk Мо M. Dottie West 
E | 13, 15. Tammy Wyneue 
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6 2 E = | E T Eddie Haris 3. Billy Cobham Dart 
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со |8 à 2 ET ud 7. Stix Hooper 9. Charlie McCoy 
me B = 2 © 12 Ronnie Laws 8. Elvin Jones P Мери 
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аза Е EEE 8 = z 8. Bobby Hutcherson pd 12. Stall Brothers 

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c p. po S] RE T 10. Mike Mainieri 14. Buddy Rich the Need 


WARDROBE COURTESY WAX TRAX 


—— -- 
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rain Moral 


"THINGS HAVE BEEN SO 
‘SLOW SINCE THE GIRLS 
WENT ON STRIKE. 


CUSTOMERS WITH A SELF- 
SERVICE PUMPS 


ALL BERNICE NEEDED 
WAS FIVEMINUTES IN 
JUDGE'S 


ГМА АМ, THIS GENTLEMAN CLAMSÎ 
Nou ASSAULTED HIM IN A 
RESTAURANT. CAN You TELL 

US WHAT HAPPENED? 


МЕ DEMAND DENTAL IN- 
SURANCE ,A REGULAR COST- 
OF-LIVING RAISE AND TO. 


ALSO, FIFTY PERCENT OF 
THE PROCEEDS FROM THE 
MONDO-BONDAGE MUD- 
N WRESTLINGAND-AMATEUR- 
Ц GYNECOLOGIST CONCESSIONS ра 


VINNY, AREN'T YOUR 
EMPLOYEES INVOLVED. IN, 


EM NE Jg OR HUM, 


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OUND HERE HAVE. Me 
BEEN Or A FELONIOUS NATURE 


E 1 SUPPOSE. THESE 
"TERMS ARE HARD 
AND FAST ? 


BY BILL JOANSON 


GIVEN 
FOR RUNNING. 


MEE 


REALIZATION THAT SEX 
TOOK TOO MUCH ENERGY. 


BUT X NEVER THATS WHY 
LET YOU SCORE ІТ WAS 50 
WITH ME.  EXHAUSTING. 


[7 TODAY 15 THANKSGIVING AN 


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2222 


WE HAVE A SPECIAL TODAY! 
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HER CUSTOMERS... /| 


159 


PLAYBOY 


COOCTIOCE (continued from page 143) 


“Perhaps because their budgets were lower, comedies were 
given considerably more leeway to go for the outrageous.” 


the Saturday-afternoon serials and West- 
erns of our youth (a comparison that 
Lucas himself would accept as valid). But 
where once, in the grisly years of the рго- 
duction code, moviemakers had a reason- 
able excuse for avoiding the earthier 
aspects of human behavior, today’s 
motivation is essentially monetary. Lucas 
tapped a gold mine in Star Wars, and every 
prospector in town has been rushing in 
with pick and shovel to work the same 
vein. Staggering production costs, of 
course, have added to the trend. With to- 
day's bigger pictures in the $15,000,000-to- 
$40,000,000 price range, producers are 
hardly eager to take chances. They go 
where the money is. And today’s big 
spenders, all too obviously, are the kids 
who haunt the video-game parlors—and 
boast that they've scen Jedi a dozen times. 

But that isonly part of the story. Peering 
over the kids’ shoulders is a significant 
portion of the adult population, sucked in 
by a wave of nostaleia for these action- 
filled adventures that remind them so 
strongly of the movies of their own child- 
hood, though executed on a far grander, 
far more spectacular scale. Sociologists 
might well ponder the significance of this 
recherche du temps perdu. Is it asearch for a 
lost innocence? A gut-level response to the 
age-old battle between good and evil? A 
natural curiosity about the future? Or 
something more profound, a remote stir- 
ring of the myths that have shaped our 
culture? The studios couldn’t care less. 
As long as the audiences keep turning 
up, they'll keep turning them out—as 
evidenced by Lucasfilm’s top-budgeted 
sequel to Steven Spiclberg’s Raiders of the 
Lost Ark, Indiana Jones and the Temple of 
Doom, currently in production. 

Further evidence is to be found in the 
extraordinary number of remakes and se- 
quels cither released in 1983 or now before 
the cameras for next ycar's delectation. 
Octopussy is the 13th James Bond movie, 
Never Say Never Agam the Mth. We've 
had Superman III, Smoley and the Bandit 
Part Ш, Jaws 3-D, Psycho II and Porky's II: 
The Next Day; we'll probably see Саппоп- 
ball II, Conan: King of Thieves, First Blood 
И, Star Trek HI: In Search of Spock and 
Rocky IV within the next 12 months—and, 
just possibly, The Godfather III and 2010: 
Odyssey Two may follow. From the comic 
strips, with more than a passing nod to 
Lucas (and to last year's Annie), will come 
Sheena, Queen of Ihe Jungle, Dick Tracy, 
Mandrake the Magician —and Annie II 

What has all this to do with sex in cine- 
ma? Nothing, except by way of explana- 
tion of why there was so little of it in the 


160 bigger-budgeted movies of 1983. Even 


Octopussy (rated PG) limits Bond's sack- 
ume to a brief, oblique encounter with 
lovely Maud Adams. Oddly enough, the 
kind of sexiness we usually associate with 
the decorative handmaidens in the James 
Bond movies is to be found in excelsis іп 
Pamela Stephenson's Superman III por- 
trait of a not-so-dumb blonde, monopolist 
Robert Vaughn's coconspirator. The girls 
in Octopussy, on the other hand—with the 
toothsome exception of Kristina Wayborn, 
who spins herself out of her sari—are sur- 
prisingly decorous. 

One searches in vain for even those di- 
verlissements, however, in such multimil- 
lion-dollar spectaculars as John Badham's 
thriller WarGames, in the 3-D Spacehunter: 
Adventures in the Forbidden Zone (a sin- 
gularly zestless carbon of The Road War- 
rior), or in all four segments of Twilight 
Zone—The Movie. High Road lo China, 
said to have cost $20,000,000, has the vir- 
tuc of introducing TV’s handsome Tom 
Selleck to the big screen but little else. Sel- 
leck, who displays much of the brash 
charm and presence of Clark Gable, is 
largely wasted іп this hackneyed adven- 
ture movic, and his scenes with a shrewish 
Bess Armstrong never catch fire. All of 
these films, not coincidentally, were rated 
PG. Of the year's major high-tech produc- 
tions, only Blue Thunder (also directed by 
WarGames’ Badham) ventures into the К 
category—and that, presumably, because 
Roy Scheider parks his helicopter for a few 
moments outside the window of a shapely 
miss doing her aerobics in the nude. Even 
so, Thunder remains memorable less for its 
peekaboo sex than for its superbly staged 
dogfights over and among Los Angeles’ 
farflung freeways and sparklingly new 
skyscrapers. 

Perhaps because their budgets were 
lower, comedies were given considerably 
more leeway to go for the outrageous— 
and for the R. Certainly, nothing in the 
year was more far out than Monty Python's 
The Meaning of Life. Its a wacky, often 
gross but marvclously entertaiming film 
that lampoons everyliing— religion, edu- 
cation, war, sex, with a musical number on 
birth control calculated to incense both 
priests and physicians. In Still Smokin’, 
however, Cheech and Chong demonstrate 
how to run bad taste into the ground. 
Their gags, centering on drugs, excrement 
and animal intercourse, are raunchy 
enough but neither clever nor disciplined 
enough to pay off—unless you're still 
smokin’ the same stulf they are. 

Similarly, it would take an especially 
staunch Steve Martin fan to be enchanted 
by his Man wilh Two Brains, in which he 
plays a skilled neurosurgeon who contrives 


to implant a sympathetic brain in the sexy 
body of his nagging, unresponsive wife 
(Kathleen Turner). Martin is a comedian 
who works best in the short bursts afforded 
by The Tonight Show, not in the sustained 
reaches оҒа feature film. In fact, he may be 
the kind of stand-up comic that The King. 
of Comedy's Rupert Pupkin dreams of be- 
coming. Pupkin, played by Robert De 
Niro, kidnaps talk-show host Jerry Lewis 
to get a spot on his show. The plot chills 
when Sandra Bernhard, a wealthy and 
not particularly attractive fan of the 
show, strips before the bound and gagged 
Lewis and attempts to seduce him. 
Lewis panics—and the entire audience is 
on his side. 

In Doctor Detroit, comedian Dan Ayk- 
royd finds himself in much the same 
predicament as Martin: He's fine from mo- 
ment to moment but is unable to sustain 
the laugh quotient—even when given a 
glitzy wardrobe and a huge shock of hair 
to mark his transition from college profes- 
sor to reluctant pimp. His girls—Fran 
Drescher, blonde Donna Dixon, black 
Lynn Whitfield and Oriental Lydia Lei— 
are all beauties; but Aykroyd never seems 
to relate to them (even though, offscreen, 
he married Dixon). Airplane II, Porky's II 
and Screwballs (which Variety aptly labeled 
Porkys 1%) all demonstrate the law of 
diminishing returns. Fitfully funny, occa- 
sionally raunchy, they seem determined to 
give sex comedies a bad name—as when, 
in Screuballs, a hapless young bowler man- 
ages to entangle the ball in his privates 
and goes on to score a strike. 

Two comics who sold themselves solid 
in 1983, however, are Richard Pryor and 
young (22) Eddie Murphy. Pryor, who 
starred in his own salty Richard Pryor Live 
on the Sunset Strip and co-starred with 
Jackie Gleason in The Toy and with Chris- 
topher Reeve in Superman III, signed а 
five-year contract with Columbia for up- 
wards of $40,000,000 to produce four 
movies of his own choosing—plus a 
guaranteed average of $5,000,000 for cach 
of a minimum of three pictures that he 
stars in and a percentage of the gross. Who 
says it doesn't pay to be funny? And Mur- 
phy, on the basis of his successes in 48 
HRS. and Trading Places, was signed to a 
similar deal by Paramount—though he 
gets only about $1,000,000 per picture. 
But the kid’s still young; he can scrimp 
along on that. Trading Places, in which 
Murphy co-stars with Aykroyd (with a 
sexy assist from Jamie Lee Curtis as a 
goodhearted hooker), proved to be the 
comedy hit of this past summer. Nobody 
seemed to notice that the competition, at 
least in the laughs category, wasn't Кєєп. 
But The Wicked Lady, starring scrumptious 
Faye Dunaway in (and frequently out of) 
17th Century costumes, at least suggested 
that the male sex has no corner on comedy. 
While Dunaway deadpans her way 
through this spoof of nocturnal highway- 
men (and -women) in jolly old England, 
playing an elegant lady who robs 

stagecoaches by night, she makes the 


9 по. “tar”, 07 mg. nicotine av. per cigarette, FTC Report MAR. 83. 


VANTAGE. 
THE TASTE OF 5 SUCCESS. f 


Great Taste 
with Low Таг. 
That's Success! 


PLAYROY 


162 


celluloid le in her more passionate mo- 
ments with Alan Bates—and that’s more 
than Pryor or Murphy can do. 

If sex has been ruled out as topic A in 
budget movies, it’s still to be found 
supply in what might be termed 
the middle-income pictures—those with 
budgets that are comfortably large but not 
so stratospheric that they have to make 
it in the blockbuster category. Burt 
Reynolds’ $5,000,000 pay check alone 
sends any film in which he stars into the 
upper brackets; but with considerable belt 
tightening in the other departments, his 
pictures generally end up as winners—and 
Stroker Ace promises to be no exception. Ав 
Stroker, he plays his amiable, fast-living 
self, a stock-car driver (one of Reynolds” 
own hobbies) who divides his time be- 
tween winning races and maneuvering the 
virginal Loni Anderson, making an auspi- 
cious screen debut, into his bed, It’s hardly 
ig the plot away to reveal that he suc- 
ceeds in both. 

Richard Gere, on the other hand, in- 
stead of building on the strong, sympa- 
thetic role he created in An Officer and a 
Gentleman, has chosen for his follow-up a 
throwback to the cold, existential hero оГ 
American Gigolo. In Breathless, based on 
Jean-Luc Godard’s 1959 classic (but 
transported from the boulevards of Paris 
to the streets of Los Angeles), he plays а 
guy on the lam. Hiding out in the apart- 
ment of UCLA student Valerie Kaprisky, 
he manages to convince her—and him- 
self—that he really loves her. Their sex 
scenes together, including full frontal nu- 
dity by both parties, arc pretty convincing 
in themselves, and Gere is now firmly 


established as an authentic scx star. 
French-born Kaprisky isn't bad, cither. 
Onc of the strangest films to come from 
a major studio this year is James Toback's 
Exposed, co-starring Nastassia Kinski and 
ballet great Rudolf Nureyev—strange be- 
cause Toback (who also wrote the script) 
has cast the exotic Kinski as a Wisconsin 
farm girl and Nureyev as a concert violin- 
ist. Further, hc lets Kinski, who becomes a 
top fashion model, perform an autoerotic 
solo in her studio apartment, but Nureyev 
just fiddles around, at one point using his 
bow suggestively all over her lithe body. 
Kinski looks beautiful but understandably 
bewildered, while Nureyev performs with 
all the manufactured ardor of a ballet 
prince wooing the prima ballerina. The 
public was not enraptured. Nor did it re- 
spond with fervor to the belated appear- 
ance of MGM's The Hunger, despite some 
lesbian lovemaking between Catherine 
Deneuve, as an ageless vampire, and wide- 
eyed Susan Sarandon, improbably cast as 
a scientist studying ways to slow down the 
aging process. David Bowie, who desper- 
ately needs her expertise, disappears from 
the screen early on, having aged from 30 to 
about 80 in a couple of days; but while he’s 
still fresh, his androgynous appeal makes a 
startlingly effective foil for Dencuve's bi- 
sexual eternal woman. Visually stunning, 
intellectually baffling, daringly erotic and 
insistently gory, The Hunger managed to 
fall between two stools, those of the art- 
house patrons and the horror-show fanat- 
ics, leaving a crimson stain not only on the 
screen but also on MGM's balance sheets. 
Sheer sexiness accounts for the success 
of Paramount's Flashdance, a surprise hit 


of the summer season. As the critics were 
quick to point out, there was almost no 
story and the cast was notably lacking in 
marquee value. Who ever heard of Jenni- 
fer Beals and Michael Nouri? No matter. 
Beals has a lithe, trim body and moves 
well—even though she didn't perform the 
torchy, quicksilver dances that highlight 
the film. (Marine Jahan did them, un- 
credited, and seems to be launching a 
whole new career on her belated recogni- 
tion.) If the steamy dances have nothing to 
do with ballet, neither does Flashdance 
have anything to do with art. It's a sex- 
greased money machine that just happens 
to have hit the jackpot, an ordinary sex- 
ploitation movie that soared into the big 
time by ue of the yitality and the bla- 
tant vulgarity of its choreography. 
Unfortunately, those are not virtues 
shared by Sylvester Stallone’s eagerly 
awaited Slaying Alive, signaling the return 
of John Travolta’s Tony Manero character 
from Saturday Night Fever. While Travolta 
himself, slathered with baby ой to empha- 
size each rippling muscle and 
tendon, seems fairly comfortable in his role 
as a chorus boy who's more heel than toe, 
the story that he’s been handed by writer- 
producer-director Stallone and Norman 
Wexler is simply a rock variation on a 
backstage saga that dates back to the 
ginal Broadway Melody—and maybe 
even beyond. Tony, still as ambitious and 
rambunctious as when he left Bay Ridge 
neatly six years ago, has trouble deciding 
between singer-dancer Cynthia Rhodes, 
who helps him land a job as dancer in a 
Broadway musical she’s rehearsing, and 
the show’s glamorous star, gorgeous 
Finola Hughes (who dances up a terrific 
storm). Both girls are beauties, so it’s not 
hard to understand Tony’s dilemma. 
Moving down a notch, ever since Ani- 
mal House and Porky's demonstrated how 
gross they could get without losing that 
all-important youth marker, producers оГ 
sexploitation pictures have been vying 
with one another to establish new lows. 
Тһе suggestively titled Joysticks is a good 
‚example, with a vidco arcade substituting 
for the drive-in of yesteryear as the ki 
main place for hanging out and making 
out. As in its antecedents, there is a super- 
abundance of sofi-core sex, a superabun- 
dance of phallic jokes and a great deal оГ 
farting (which, despite Mcl Brooks, has 
never bcen all that funny). Jaysticks dimly 
reflects real life, insofar as the parents of 
River City (represented by stalwart Joe 
Don Baker) are determined to shut down 
the town’s video parlor, while the young- 
sters are equally determined to keep it 
Porky II has a similar plot premise, 
the oldsters, rednecks all, objecting to 
a student production of Romeo and Juliet 
partly because of Shakespeare’s "lewd- 
ness,” partly because a Seminole Indian 
has been chosen to play Romeo. Once 
again, the kids are aroused—just as they 
were in the old Beach Blanket movies, 
in which the parents (if there were any) 


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Dingos. Because he 
loves the way Dingo” 
leather looks and the 
way Dingo leather 
feels. So put yourselfin 
a pair of Dingos like 
Montana Joe. Because 
Dingo's the only way 
to play the game. 


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163 


PLAYBOY 


164 


were always wrong. The glory days of An- 
nette Funicello are also recalled, if with 
more baring of breasts, in Spring Break, a 
look-see at the uninhibited doings on the 
beaches of Fort Lauderdale —wet-T-shirt 
contests, teeny-weeny-bikini contests and 
the like—when that resort area braces for 
its annual invasion by the college crowd; 
and in Spring Fever, with teenaged Carling 
Bassett as a would-be national junior ten- 
nis champ who is shunned because h 
mother (Susan Anton) is a Las Vegas 
showgirl. 

That films in this genre don't necessa 
ly have to be exploitational was, one would 
have thought, convincingly demonstrated 
by the critical and popular success of 
Martha Coolidge’s Valley Girl. Although 
never at the top of the charts in either 
category, it explores seriously and well the 
culture conflict between middle-class 
teenager (Deborah Foreman) and the Hol- 
lywood punker (Nicolas Cage) she meets 
at a party he has crashed. What makes 
their conflict all the more interesting is the 
fact that her parents (cameo appearances 
by Colleen Camp and Frederic Forrest) 
re ex-swingers. With an assist from the 
song of the same title, a liberal lacing of 
the Valley-girl patois, a fair amount of 
nudity and strong performances from the 
g leads, Valley Girl emerges as a 
contemporary slice of life. Coolidge. 
formerly a documentary film maker, dis- 
plays a strong feeling for character and 
place, as does writer-director Amy Jones 
п My Love Letters, with Jamie Lee Curtis 
playing a disc jockey who falls in love with 
an older, married man (James Keach). 

It would Бе nice to be able to say that 
these efforts by distaff directors are open- 
ng our eyes wider to a woman's sensibili- 
ties. But pleasing as it is to see the 
directorial ranks swelled by newcomers 
from the opposite sex, the fact is that the 
year’s most sensitive and probing studies 
of ladies in an emotional bind have come 
from writer-director John Sayles (he of the 
low-budgeted Return of the Secaucus 
Seven). First in Lianna, then in Baby, I's 
You, Sayles (who made his movie debut as 
a writer of exploitation features) displays 
an ability to get inside his characters that 
one more often associates with novelists 
than with film makers. Lianna is the wife 
ofa college film professor, He has a roving 
eye; she has two kids to look after. Unsat- 
isficd with her life, she insists on taking 
night classes at the university and soon is 
deeply in love with her teacher—a 
woman. The lesbian scenes are handled 
frankly but with delicacy. Baby, It's You, 
made for Paramount on an obviously 
bigger budget, also centers on а 
woman—more precisely, a high school girl 
(Rosanna Arquette)—who is pursued re- 
lentlessly by а greasy-haired Italian (Vin- 
cent Spano) whose other obsession is to 
become Frank Sinatra. Eventually, she 
yields to his persistent wooing, only to find 
that he's still not her type. It's a story of 
the wrong guy for the wrong girl, and 


Sayles lets us understand what makes both 
of them tick. ll in his mid-30s, he's a 
director to be watched. 

He might, for example, profitably try his 
hand at the latest plot wrinkle to surface 
on the silver screen—that of the young 
boy's being ted into the joys of sex by 
an older woman. Mostly, these films have 
bcen concerned with turning the boy into a 
man (as if it ever were that simple); just 
possibly, Sayles might want to explore 
what the woman gets out of it. Why would 
a beauty such as Sylvia Kristel want—or 
necd—to give “private | to a gan- 
gling adolescent in last year's movie of that 
title? When that admittedly minor entry 
racked up a gross of $12,500,000, produc- 
ers didn't bother to ask; they simply 
rushed more of the same in front of the 
cameras, including Private School (with 
Kristel again on hand as a shy sex- 
education teacher at the Cherryvale 
Academy for Women, which is constantly 
being invaded by boys from the neighbor- 
ing Frcemount Academy for Men). In Му 
Tutor, lush, 30ish Caren Kaye is hired by 
Kevin McCarthy to tutor his teenaged son 
(Matt Lattanzi) in French. Given to 
moonlit skinny-dips in the family pool, she 
soon has both father and son burning the 
midnight oil. But its the boy who gets to 
take the advanced course. In Class, lovely 
Jacqueline Bisset seduces her son's prep 
School roommate (though it's hard to im- 
agine Bisset’s ever being an older woman). 
In Ladies Night (title at presstimo), 
beautiful Lesley Ann Warren goes lor 
young Christopher Atkins (of The Blue La- 
goon), a male stripper. 

T's a theme that has recurred through- 
ош the year, often as a subplot in the in- 
numerable teenage sex comedies such as 
Porky's II, Losin’ It and The Last American 
Virgin, in which Louisa Moritz plays a 
housewife who inductis not one but three 
boys into the mystic rite of passage. 
s up again as a subplot in Valley 
Girl, with housewife Lee Purcell as the 
nd in The First Time, with 
Jane Badler doing the honors. No doubt 
this trend represents some wishful think- 
ing on the part of the (mostly male) writers 
of these films, but their eager acceptance 


sons” 


s that an awful lot of young men 
y the same thing, 
While we're touring the wilder shores of 


love, it is interesting to note that homosex- 
ality, which gained increasing promi- 
тепсе in the films of the 
but disappeared from the American- 
movies of 1983. Although not, as the Ger- 
man Querelle reminds 
screens. Rainer Werner 
film before his untimely death from a drug 
overdose, it's based on a novel by Jean 
Genet whose hero is a latent homosexual 
(Brad Dav ailor on shore leave. 
What obviously attracted Fassbinder was 
the opportunity to film with startling ex- 
plicitness the storys homosexual acts. 
Reminiscent of Genet is The Wounded 
Man, an official French entry at the 


Cannes International Film Festival carlier 
year. In 


Г jt, young Jean-Hughes 
Anglade, living in the bowels of a large 
train station, develops a homosexual pas- 
sion for hulking Vittorio Mezzogiorno and 
is himself stalked by homosexual doctor 
Roland Bertin. There t least the strong 
suggestion of a homosexual attraction bc- 
tween David Bowie, a British officer in a 
Japanese wartime prison camp, and 
Ryuichi Sakamoto, the camp's conmand- 
cr, in the large-scale New Zealand- 
British-Japanese coproduction Merry 
Christmas, Mr. Lawrence, which scored a 
hit at Cannes. And from Italy—albeit in 
English comes Montgomery Clift, an illu- 
minating documentary on the career ol 
that ill-fated actor that discusses with con- 
siderable candor his bisexuality and his lat- 
er dependence on drink and drugs. 

In contrast, when American 
touched on the theme at all t year, it 
was generally as just another titillating de- 
tail in such prison shockers as Bad Boys 
and Chained Heat. 

Also down in 1983 was the number of 
horror films, which often manage to 
sprinkle more than a little sex into the 
gore. In 1982, according to Variety's count, 
“61 new fright pictures"—or approx- 
imately one third of the year’s total prod- 
uct—“were released domestically.” But 
by 1983, the trend had begun to fizzle. ОГ 
the out-and-out shockers, only Psycho H 
made it to the big bucks, and on a relative- 
ly modest $4,000,000 budget at that. 
While not as electrifying as the Hitchcock 
version, perhaps because we have all be- 
come a bit more casehardened through fre- 
quent exposure to scare pictures, Psycho П 
has more than its fair share of mayhem, 
plus a marvelously ambiguous perform- 
ance by Tony Perkins, reprising his role as 
Norman. For once, it’s a sequel worthy of 
its predecesso 

Meanwhile, the parade of anything-fo 
a-chill cheapies continues to stagger along, 
augmented by a number of earlier entries 
exhumed to cash in on the cycle, such as 
the catchily retitled 7 Dismember Mama, 
originally presented a decade ago as Poor 
Albert and Little Annie. Mama’s nutcake 
hero makes his escape from a mental ii 
stitution after his guardians refuse to let 
him run stag films in his room and sets out 
to avenge himself on his wealthy mother, 
who has had him locked away. He's the 
kind of psycho who kills when the moon 
rises, and the big question is whether or 
not he'll go after little Annie, the house- 
keeper's daughter. Despite the title, Mama 
remains intact. Іп Mausoleum, it's sex 
Bobbie Bresee who's possessed after 
wandering into the family crypt and is in- 
spired to take off on a killing spree, usi 
her abundantly revealed charms lo 
attract her victims. A Taste of Sin is more 
in the Hitchcock mold, with $ inna Love 
as a woman whose psyche became twisted 
in her childhood, she watched as her 
prostitute mother was tortured and killed 
by a sadistic GI. Now, though married, 


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PLAYBOY 


166 


she plies her mother’s trade near London 
Bridge and kills off her customers. When 
the bridge moves to Arizona, so docs she— 
and so does the carnage. Curtains offers 
Samantha Eggar as a dedicated actress so 
determined to play a madwoman that she 
permits her director to commit her to an 
insane asylum, where he abandons her, 
Mysteriously released and still deter- 
mined, she makes her way to the director's 
baroque mansion, where seven aspirants 
for the same role are spending thc 
weekend. Within no time, the cast is whit- 
tled down (literally) to two, with lots of 
gore and some nudity along the way. 

At once the most original and the most 
terrifying of 19835 low-budget horrors, 
Videodrome comes, as might be expected, 
from Canada’s devilishly gifted Davi 
Cronenberg. Its happy conceit is that 
somebody in Pittsburgh 
video signals that consist mostly of 
women, in various stages of undress, being 
tortured. James Woods, who operates a 
cable-TV station in Toronto, is intrigued 
by the show and, aided by pretty Deborah 
Harry, attempts to track it to its source. 
Its a one-way horror trip. and apparently 
there are still customers eager to take it 

For audiences that prefer their horror 
less fanciful, Universal has obliged with 
Jaws 3-D, reprising pretty much the s 
action and improbabilities of Jaws 
Jaws Il, but this time with glasses. Just 
when you thought it was sale to go into the 
water the damn things start slippin; 

Monsters are by no means confined to 
horror shows, however. There are also h 
man monsters, and sometimes they're even 
more frightening—like the sex maniac in 
Charles Bronson’s 10 to Midnight, who 
hacks young women to death oncamera. 
From Canada comes Cross Country, again 
featuring a deranged killer (Richard 
Beymer), a prime suspect in the brutal 
murder of a callgirl, who terrorizes a 
young model (Nina Axelrod) and her boy- 
friend (Brent Carver), whom he has 
casually picked up on the road, with h 
sedan becoming a cut-rate version of the 
old dark house. 

On a considerably higher planc but still 
freighted with horror is The Lords of Disci- 
pline, based on Pat Conroy's novel about 
the sadistic treatment, climaxing in a nar- 
rowly averted castration, accorded the first 
black recruit at а Southern military 
academy іп 1964. As is so often the case in 
films of this kind, the ultraviolence is de- 
nounced as obscene and demeaning, but 
the film makers—and the audiences— 
clearly enjoy each sick and sickening 
sensation. Chacun à son grue. 

Because Hollywood's mainstream mov- 
les have registered so low on the sexual 
Richter scale this year, the torch for torchi- 
ness has passed, almost by default, to more 
broad-minded (and, with the founding of 
"classics" divisions by nearly evt 
U.S, studio, more broadly di 
foreign films. None of the 


foreign- 


ers, apparently, is more broad-minded 
than Brazil’s Bruno Barreto, who directed 
luscious Sonia Braga in her carlier success 
Dona Flor and Her Two Husbands and now 
has managed to top that with the steamy 
Gabriela, Based on a classic Brazilian 
novel by Jorge Amado, it introduces Braga 
as the new cook in Marcello Mastroianni’s 
small-town bar around 1925. Despite the 
woman's grimy, sweaty exterior, Mas- 
iroianni is gradually captivated by her 
passionate sexuality. And before the film is 
over, she has taught all the women in the 
town the meaning of sexual liberation. Of 
course, they don't all look like Braga—and 
Barreto has taken great pains to show us in 
intimate detail exactly what Braga looks 
like. As the August Playboy's Roving 
reveals, the woman is not reluctant to dis- 
play her charms. Some measure of her 
ternational popularity can be deduced 
from the fact that the great Mastroianni 
was willing to leave his native Italy, where 
he’s now something of a god, to co-star 
with her. 

Spain, which has been relaxing its of- 
ficial censorship in recent years, signaled 
the change by entering Carlos Saura's sen- 
suous and often sexy version of Carmen at 
the Cannes festival this year. Graced with 
the (offscreen) presence of Joan Suther- 
land and Mario del Monaco, this isn't a 
canned opera, like Franco Zellirelli's La 
Traviata carlier this but a rehearsal 
of the opera, with generous asides for the 
burgeoning love of choreographer Antonio 
Gades and Laura del Sol, the girl chosen 
to play 
of the opera’s highlights, this Carmen cli 
maxes repeatedly with its sizzling Па- 
menco numbers. 

The French have also been helpful in 
x up our screens, with gorgeous 
sabelle Adjani represented by two—and 
possibly, before years end, three—gratify- 
ing entries. In Next Year if АЙ Goes Well, a 
rather bland romantic comedy, she dis- 
plays a hitherto-unsuspected knack for 
comic acting as an independent young, 
woman who, unable to get along with һе 
ive-in lover (Thierry Lhermitte), is quite 
g to experiment. Adjani is on more 
аг ground in Deadly Circuit (based 
оп an American thriller, Eye uf the Be- 
holder); as a man-hating adventuress, she 
first seduces, then slaughters a series of 
rich young men. (She had an unhappy 
childhood, the script informs us, plus an 
impotent father.) Adjai 
One Deadly Summer, which she personally 
transformed into one of the tis of ie 


girl seel 

Nor can one dismiss Isabelle Huppert, 
who gave of herself so generously in the ill- 
fated Heavens Gale, even though she’s 
somewhat more circumspect as Philippe 
Noiret’s casygoing mistress in the well- 
received Coup de Torchon—or Clean Slate 


(the distributors use both titles). Huppert 


is seen to better advantage as the wife of 
passive, possibly impotent Jean-Louis 
Trintignant in Deep Waters, in which she 
finds fulfillment in a series of extramarital 
affairs until friend husband grows murder- 
ously incensed. Best of all is her role in La 
Truite, directed by Joseph Losey; in it, 
married to a homosexual, she makes her 
way into high society through the good 
offices of financier Jean-Pierre Cassel and 
his wife, Jeanne Moreau. From that point, 
she's on her own, leaping from bedroom to 
bedroom with a fine abandon—though 
somehow, the film implies, managing 10 
retain her virginity throughout. Whether 
she does or not, she's a joy to behold. 

So is Clio Goldsmith, new to these 
shores, as a callgirl offered as а going-away 
present to mousy banker Pierre Mondy in 
The Gift. He's on his way to Italy for a final 
business trip, leaving behind in Paris his 
beautiful wife (Claudia Cardinale). 
Against a Venetian backdrop, all kinds of 
hell break loose—of the door-slamming 
variety so dear to the writers of French 
farces. The scenery is glorious, but when 
Goldsmith and Cardinale are in front of it, 
all else fades. Scenery, alas, proves to be 
the main attraction in the much-touted 
Forever Emmanuelle, a Franco-Italian pro- 
duction shot in the Philippines a few years 
ago and starring its author (and director, 
though uncredited), lissome Emmanuelle 
Arsan. Most of the anticipated nudity, 
however, is supplied by co-star Annie Bell, 

e bombshell who shucks her 
jı equal abandon in a Manila 
bedroom or on a jungle trek. Also dis- 
appointing was Roger Vadim's Surprise 
ation of American Graf- 
fii—ıhough, as one might expect of 
Vadim, considerably sexier. But the direc- 
tor, who made a star out of Brigitte Bardot 
in And God Created Woman and a sexpot 
out of Jane Fonda in Barbarella, here 
seems just to be going through the motions 
as he fleshes out the loves, longings and 
lusts of kids in a provincial French town in 
the Fiftics. 

All of the malaise that Vadim may have 
felt in looking back to his glory days has 
been masterfully subsumed by Italian 
director Michelangelo Antonioni in his 
elegant, elusive Identification of a Woman. 
Irs about a film maker (Tomas Milian) 
who is trying to put together a picture 
about an ideal woman; his ideal, however, 
refuses to come into focus. He's also trying 
to find such a woman to lend meaning and 
continuity to his own life, and his persist- 
ent exploration. produces some of the 
Steamiest sex scenes since Antonioni's own 
Blow-Up, made back in 1966. On the other 
hand, Italian director Marco Ferreri, mak- 
ing use of an international cast that in- 
cludes Ben Gazzara, Ornella Muti, Susan 
‘Tyrrell and Katia Berger, concocts in Tales 
vf Ordinary Madness sex scenes that are 
less steamy than seamy. Shot in Los 
Angeles and Rome, the film presents Gaz- 
zara as a hard-living, hard-drinking, hell- 
raising writer whose proclivities bend 


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PLAYBOY 


toward street punks and prostitutes. 

Ferreri has followed Tales of Ordinary 
Madness, loosely. based on the life and 
works of Los Angeles writer Charles 
Bukowski, with Story of Piera, which is ex- 
plicitly based on the life of Italian actress 
Piera Degli Esposti and her incestuous re- 
lationship with her mother. The mother, 
played by Hanna Schygulla (who won the 
best-actress award at Cannes for her per- 
formance), takes little Piera along on her 
numerous assignations. The wom: 
dulges herself freely, even though she's 
married to а respected. professor (Mas- 
troianni). As the years go by, both hus- 
band and wife veer toward madness, and 
the man is institutionalized, while Piera 
(now played by the ubiquitous Huppert) 
becomes a famous actress. Visiting her 
father in the asylum, she reluctantly agrees 
to have sex with him. Meanwhile, the 
mother is also in a clinic. Piera visits her as 
well, and the film ends with the two of 
them, naked, embracing on a beach. 

But sex scenes alone do not a sex film 
make. Sexuality is such а basic part of all 
of us that 1t not only colors our lives but 
motivates much of our drama. No one is 
more aware of this than British playwright 
Harold Pinter, and nowhere has he ex- 
pressed it more clearly than in his script 
(based on his play) for Betrayal. To be 
sure, there's а bed scene (though the 
lady— Patricia Hodge—remains discreet- 
ly covered); but what Pinter has tried to 
do, by intriguingly telling his story іп re- 
verse, is describe the passions that can 
lead a woman to two-time a scemingly lov- 
ing husband and а man to cheat with the 
wife of his best friend. 

Working with a far 


in- 


more complex 


theme, one that also requires ап uncon- 
ventional editing structure, James Ivory іп 
Heat and Dust intercuts the stories of two 
young Englishwomen of different eras— 
one (Julie Christie) thoroughly modern, 
the other her great-aunt as a young girl 
(newcomer Greta Scacchi)—to underline 
both the timelessness of India and the 
changing attitudes of Britai colonials. 
Christie arrives in India to learn about her 
late great-aunt and discovers that, though 
married to a staid Britisher, she had had 
an affair with a handsome Indian poten- 
tate, precipitating a scandal. Meanw 
Christie is having an affair of her own 
a local youth, becoming pregnant in the 
process, as did the great-aunt before her. 
The difference is that where the great-aunt 
chose abortion and disgrace, Christie 
proudly decides to have her child out of 
wedlock. 

England’s Nicolas Roeg is a director 
who probably couldn’t tell a story in se- 
quence if he wanted to—and he never has. 
Critics have already compared his latest 
effort, Eureka, to Citizen Kane, though less 
in terms of its content than of its style. As 
in most Roeg films, the central character, 
well played by Gene Hackman, is an 
obsessed man, a prospector for gold who 
strikes it rich early in the picture, buys 
himself an island in the Caribbean, then 
retires to it with his wife and comely 
daughter (Theresa Russell) and spends 
the rest of his life defending his posses- 
sions, driving his wife to drink and his 
daughter into the arms of a man (Rutger 
Hauer) he assumes to be an adventurer. 
The nature of his possessiveness is boldly 
suggested in a scene in which Hackman 
bursts in on Russell and her lover, both 


“Tt only hurts when I screw.” 


naked in bed, and furiously tries to drive 
the young man away. Although it’s hardly 
intrinsic to his story, Roeg throws in a ter- 
rific Caribbean orgy to entertain the eye. 

England, of course, has also contributed 
its fair share of lighter entertainments to 
the world’s screens this year and none of 
them more droll or deliciously wicked than 
Michael Palin’s The Missionary, with Palin 
himself, a temporary fugitive from the 
Monty Python band, in the title role. Just 
back from Africa, he opens a home for 
fallen women under the patronage first of 
the Church of England, then of aristocratic 
Maggie Smith, whose interest in the young 
man isn’t wholly philanthropic. As luck 
would have it, he’s soon seduced by the 
young ladies in his establishment as well— 
to his ever-decreasing chagrin and our 
ever-increasing amusement. Edwardian 
costumes and attitudes add to the charm. 
Another period piece, this one set in the 
17th Century, is The Draughismans Con- 
tract, а lusty, bawdy movie that is part 
murder mystery, part Restoration comedy. 
Anthony Higgins plays the artist sum- 
moned by aristocratic Janet Suzman to 
sketch her country estate, with her sexual 
favors implicit in the agreement. Her 
daughter soon gets in on the act, too. 

But the year’s honors must be reserved 
for a film that contains a touch of just 
about everything mentioned above—lusty 
humor, some nudity, sharp and tende 
sights into human (including sexual) rel: 
tionships, a bit of Gothic horror, a pinch of 
the supernatural, even a little farting. The 
film is Ingmar Bergman's touching auto- 
biographical Fanny 4 Alexander, an 
apotheosis of his career as a director filled 
with his childhood memories of family, 
friends and his own nascent interest in 
1. The setting is Uppsala, 
1907 (about ten years 
before Bergman himself was born). Аг an 
enormous Christmas party, we meet the 
entire Ekdahl clan, presided over by the 
charming patrician grandmother (Gunn 
Wällgren), a wise and worldly woman, a 
former actress who still controls the purse 
strings of the (аги wned theater. Her 
second son (Allan Edwall) is a manager 
and an actor—but not a very good onc— 
in the family theater and is the father of 
Fanny and Alexander; his untimely death 
propels his lovely wife (Ewa Fróling), also 
ап actress, into the sanctimonious arms оГ 
Bishop Vergerus (Jan Malmsjö). The 
youngest Ekdahl (Jarl Kulle) is a success- 
ful restaurateur, happily marricd—mainly 
because his wife (Mona Malm) has no 
objections to his carrying оп an allair with 
one of the housemaids. (One of the 
pleasant surprises in this generally sunny 
film is the fact that wife and mistress get 
along quite comfortably, the wife even 
looking out for the mistress’ welfare after 
her husband has made the girl pregnant.) 

The film turns somber when Fröling 
and her two children into the 
bishop’s puritanical household, where she 


move 


PLAYBOY 


170 


soon discovers that she has married a 
sadistic tyrant. The solution, contrived by 
the grandmother's old lover and friend, 
Jewish antiques dealer (Erland Joseph- 
son), is literally magical, a flash of cutting 


Wh Fr that leaves both the bishop and the viewer 
wondering just what has happened. Alex- 

9 ander spends a chilling night in the old 

Је house, wandering among mario- 

nettes that come to life, trembling as God 

ө Himself threatens to emerge from behind a 


door and mecting the man’s disturbed 


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Alexander is a newcomer to his familiar 


repertory company—the beauteous Fré- 
ling. With her blonde leonine mane, full, 
sensuous mouth and straight yet lissome 
figure, she is reminiscent of the youthful 
Melina Mercouri or Lauren Bacall, 
though far more feminine than cither. Out- 
standing, too, is Gunn Wállgren (who, un- 
fortunately, died of cancer soon after the 
picture was completed). Looking for all 
the world like Katharine Cornell in her 
prime, she presents an autumnal portrait 
of the grandmother that serves as a re- 
minder that the fires of youth bank slowly 
Nor can one overlook Pernilla W 
busty maid, the object of Kulle's uncon- 
cealed lust; nor Mona Malm, Kulle's 
pleasure-loving wife—she's especially lov- 
ing of the pleasures of the bed 

But the film has a further significance: It 
was partly funded by Swedish television 
and ended up as a fivc-hour film, from 
which Bergman carved this three-hour 
theatrical version. In Sweden, England, 
rance, Germany, Italy, Japan—almost 
everywhere except in the United States— 
television, whether government-owned or 
privately operated, is emerging as a major 
sponsor of motion pictures. While it is 
common for American TV movies of the 
week to be released theatrically abroad, 
very rarely do they make it to Stateside 
movichouses. With the advent of pay 
cable, however, the pattern seems to be 
changing, Both studios and independents 
are entering into deals with cable networks 
for partial financing of their feature films. 
Obviously. sex films have a certain advan- 
tage where cable is concerned. Between 
cable and the rapidly expanding field of 
video cassettes, the producers of adult 
movies have never had it so good, often 
shooting their films in as many as three 
versions—hard-core for the porno houses, 
soft-core for cable and cassettes and 
R-rated for pictures that might have a 
crossover potential in regular theaters (like 
Chuck Vincent's Roommates, which swept 
this year’s Adult Film Association of 
America's Erotica awards). It's all very 
promising. But will any of the adult-film 
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172 


BUBBA SMITH „ал page 151) 


"Watermelon was considered. the steak of the ghetto. A 
lot of blacks were just about brought up on it." 


more than a few seconds. Players" minds 
are on other things. One summer, I bet my 
roommate I could have sex with more 
women than he could. I was averaging 
three women a day. After a while, it be- 
came tiresome. Sometimes, you reach a 
point where you're about to climax, then 
you shoot a blank. That happened to me, 
and it got scary. When you have to prove 
your manhood during sex, you start to lose 
interest. Who needs the hassle or the 
pressure? 


8. 


PLAYBOY: Does sex with a cheerleader en- 
hance team spi 
SMITH: I've never had sex with a cheerlead- 
er. I'm allergic to pompons. 


D 


PLAYBOY: Can a homosexual player find 
happiness in the N.F.L.? 

surta: Not if he goes looking for it in my 
hotel room. I had a teammate, a wide ге- 
ceiver on a pro team, who was a homosex- 
ual. I didn't know it for a long time. Hc 
had a hard-on all the time in the shower— 
and that's not normal in a shower room 
filled with guys who've practiced in the hot 
sun for a few hours. So I asked him about 
it. He told me he always got а hard-on 
when the water was really hot. I tried that 
and nearly burned my dick off. You know a 
player's gay if he's got a hard-on in the 
shower after the team loses. 


10. 


PLAYBOY: How does a pro football coach 
motivate his players? 

situ: He has to be a great actor, Coaches 
usually put you to sleep with their 
speeches. The players are pros. They know 
what they have to do to win. But they'll 
pay attention to 2 coach who's a little 
crazy. John Madden, who coached me at 
Oakland, is a super actor. He would make 
me laugh at half time. He'd say stuff like, 
“Let's go out and kick ass, like the Raiders 
of old.” One day after I had just joined the 
Raiders and was trying to learn their sys- 
tem, Madden told me to watch him. He 
went over to the offensive unit and went 
crazy. He yelled, “What the fuck is this? 
Who the fuck do you think we're playing? 
We're playing Kansas City, you mother- 


` fuckers! You don’t give a shit ifwe win." I 


was standing there thinking, What’s wrong 
with this man? Then he screamed for them 
to get in a huddle and run a play. Every 
body kicked ass on the play. Madden 
turned to me and said, “How was 1?” I 
freaked out. 

Davis used to shake his head at the play- 
ers after practice to shame us into thinking 


we did badly and should play harder, So 
one time, I told hi g some 
trouble with my old lady. You know w 
he told me? “What's she look like? The 
only thing you have to do is tell me and we 
can find one just like her.” Was he going to 
clone my woman? Al said that would be no 
problem. Life with the Raiders was a 
strange head trip! 


u. 


rravgoy: Describe a filming of a Lite Beer 
commercial. 

ssia: Filming the alumni commercial, 
where everybody is there, is like going to 
training camp. We're filming and partying 
for five days. 1/5 a good time. The 


Billy Martin. We were at a bar, and Billy 
had six vodka martinis. He was talking 
weird! I figured the only way I was going 
to understand him was to get on the same 
wave length with him, so I drank vodka 
real quick. Before I knew it, I had about 
ten drinks. Now I was starting to under- 
stand Billy, which was strange. We closed 
the bar and tried to find our rooms. I was 
so hung over the next day, I played some 
tricks on him. He was asleep on the set, so 
Iput Т; uce on his mouth. He woke 
up licking his lips and called me some- 
thing you don't call a cat from the street. 


12. 


piaynoy: Does Rodney Dangerfield get any 
respect? Or is he too Hollywood? 

situ: I like Rodney, but he thinks he’s a 
star. We might have an eight-o'clock call 
on the set, but Rodney wouldn't show up. 
until ten. One day, he was late and every- 
one was pissed. Boom Boom Geoffrion said 
hc was gonna kick his ass. You don't screw 
around with hockey players, "cause you 
never know where they're hiding their 
stick. I went outside and I saw Rodney 
coming in. I said, “Rodney, the troops are 
ttle pissed off.” He started playing with 
his tie and making excuses. I told him I'd 
take care of everything. I went back and 
told the guys, “Rodney doesn't care that 
he’s late.” [Grins] I just wanted to get 
some trouble started. Rodney came in and 
yelled Boom Boom’s name. He suddenly 
got real tense. Everybody got quiet. Rod- 
ney said, “Boom Boom, I think I went out 
with your sister last night. Is her name 
Bang Bang?” 

Іп one of the commercials, Dick Butkus 
and I had to grab Rodney. He was sup 
posed to say, “I tell you, I get no respect 
We shocked him so much by where we 


grabbed him that he yelled, “T tell you, I 
don’t deserve no respect.” 


13. 


тлувоу: How tough is Dick Butkus? 
эмин: When Dick was playing football, he 
was the toughest player I'd ever seen 
People don't realize that he's now studying 
to be a minister. We're also planning to do 
a television series together. The show will 
run for a long time, because it takes Dick а 
long time to learn his lines. He was on 
another planet when he was playing. He 
once said that he wanted to hit a player so 
hard that his head would fall off and roll 
down the field. To me, that’s a heavy dude. 


14. 


PLAYBOY: Is there anything about being 
black that white people would enjoy? 

The sexual myth. The way that 
k people dance. It's more fun spitting 
watermelon seeds if you're black. Гуе al- 
is been proud of the gap in my teeth be- 
cause | can blow out the seeds through it. 
At one time, watermelon was consi 
ered the steak of the ghetto. A lot of blacks 
were just about brought up on it. Just be- 
cause you got money docsn't mean that 
watermelon ain't good for vou. I cat it all 
the time. You have to have a certain 
amount of class to spit out a watermelon 
seed properly. 


153 


т.лүвоу: What are the differences between 
white and black women? 

smith: They're no different during sex ex- 
cept for their sound effects. White women 
are less vocal. It’s the same when white 
women laugh. They'll go “Ha, ha, ha” 
and then suddenly stop. Black people often 
laugh not to be sad. And because black 
people know laughter is cheap. 


16. 


тлуноу: What pisses off black people? 
sum: Saying bad things about your 
mother. I don't care if you're Superman or 
Superfly, you go on the streets and talk 
that trash and you're history! 


17. 


PLAYBOY: Tell us—is what goes on in the 
locker room as juvenile as we suspect it is? 
smITH: When I was with Houston, we used 
10 line guys’ underwear with some red-hot 
stuff. When a guy fell aslecp in the whirl- 
pool, we'd always throw electrical things 
at him. We got rid of a lot of rookies that 
way. When I was with Baltimore, some 
other players and I ate some marijuana 
brownies left by accident in the locker 
room. We were taking a shower and one of 
the players said, “Мап, look how big these 
drops of water аге” I felt the same way. 
Guys in the locker room will do anything 
to create trouble. Also, players always 
tried to get women into their rooms the 
night before the game. In New York, I 
made a girl go out on the ledge. We were 


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PLAYBOY 


174 


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12 floors up. The coaches checked every- 
where. If I had been caught, it would have 
been a $2000 fine. Тһе girl was a little cold 
when she got back inside. She was prob- 
ably scared, too, but she was а good sport 


18. 


PLAYBOY: Many fans who watch Monday 
Night Football aggressively dislike Howard 
Cosell. Will you come to his defense? 
smin: Yeah. Howard is probably the best 
thing to happen to black athletes. Before 
Howard, nobody in the media talked 
about Grambling University or Jackson 
State. TV sports didn't do profiles on 
black athletes. Howard made O. J. Simp- 
son bigger than life. He made you stay оп 
top of your game, especially on Monday 
Night Football. You knew that if you were 
screwing up or getting beat on the line, 
Howard would tell the nation. If you 
shined, he would magnily your star re- 
gardless of your color. I walked into a re 
taurant onc night where Howard and his 
wife were dining. His wife is а good friend 
and a great lady, considering she has to 
put up with him. I kissed her hello. 
Howard stood up and started screaming, 
“Where is the manager? Who is this black 
man kissing my wife?” I wasn’t ready for 
that response, but that was Howard's way 
of having a good time. 


19. 


млувау: For athletes, is there life after 
Astroturf? 

Уміти: I don't think there's anything after 
Astroturf. When it’s 90 degrees outside, 
it’s 130 degrees on Astroturf. If a nuclear 
bornb is ever dropped on this country, the 
only things Pm certain will survive are 
Astroturf and Don Shula. Shula's about as 
hard emotionally as Astroturf. 1 call him 
the thug of pro football. That's not to take 
away from his brilliance as a coach. He'll 
find an opposing team's weakness and 
he'll run at that weakness until you make 
adjustments or dic. You don't have to like 
Shula, but you have to respect what he 
does and can do to you. That's the same 
attitude I had toward Astroturf, 


20. 


pLavuov: What things scare you? 
эмин: I was frightened the first time I was 
given some lines, That's lines of dialog to 
say in a movie, not cocaine. I'm scared of 
strani laughing unintentionally at 
what I do, be it either football or acting 
The movie The Exorcist scared. me. The 
idea that one could be possessed by Satan 
is a bitch. After seeing that film, I went 
home, got out my gun and set it on the 
night stand. That film did weird things to 

head. The people living above ше had 
a dog that I could hear walking across the 
floor. Man, I shot up the ceiling and 
almost killed the dog. Seeing The Exorcist 
scared me so much that I slept with the 
lights on all night. Let me tell you somc- 
thing: Big bad Bubba never sleeps with the 


lights оп! 


“Before we begin the invasion, let us congratulate 
General Nchh on a brilliant propaganda coup!” 


175 


PLAYBOY 


WHERE THE JOYS ARE 


(continued from page 107) 


“You will never need to 


learn how to program a 


computer in order to operate one.” 


simply curiosity: What are those televi- 
sion/typewriters, anyway? As those late- 
night public-service announcements about 
foreign-exchange students say, there’s no 
better way to find out than to invite one 
into your home. A few hundred dollars in- 
vested in an inexpensive home computer, 
and a few evenings of fiddling with it, will 
provide you with enough information to 
become a first citizen of the computer age. 

You will never, by the way, need to learn 
how to program a computer in order to 
operate one. Writing computer programs 
is a creative act and an exciting one for 
many; but then, so is making a movie. 
Most of us buy tickets and watch other 
people's movies, and most of us will buy 
software and run other people's programs. 
T can't program my computer to do апу- 
thing practical, but I сап buy programs 
that make it do practical things, and that's 
good enough for me. 

. 

I think computers, for most homes, are 
the food processors of the Eighties. For 
gourmet cooks, food processors are mar- 
velous. For the rest of us, they can't even 
make a decent milk shake. The number of 
food processors in suburban kitchens col- 
lecting suburban dust will be surpassed 
sometime in 1984 by that of personal com- 
puters stuffing overstuffed closets. 

However dim my view of computers in 
the home, I am optimistic about personal 
computers’ finding a home in business— 
all businesses, large and small. 

In the United States, large computers 
do the work each day of three trillion cler- 
ical workers. Naturally, the large comput- 
ers do that work for the large companies 
that can afford them. Small computers 
offer the same edge to small businesses. 

But big businesses have not taken that 
equalizing of competition lying down; oh, 
no. They are buying personal computers 
for their managers and middle managers 
and secretaries and janitors and anyone 
else they think may be able to use some in- 
creased efficiency. In big business, those 
are now known as personnel computers. 

A bitof history: One hundred years ago, 
the population of the United States was 
growing so fast that the 1880 census took 
eight years to process. It was cstimated 
that the 1890 census would take 12 years. 
At that rate, we would know by 1985 what 
the population had bcen in 1930. A better 
way of counting people had to be found, 
and it was: the 1890 census machine. 

It was the brain child of John Shaw 
Billings and Herman Hollerith. Hollerith 


distributed to the census takers dollar-bill 
holders and preprinted punch cards. (The 
dollar-bill holder had already been in- 
vented; hence, the size and the shape of 
computer punch cards for generations to 
come was determined by the dimensions of 
the 1890 dollar bill. There's an irony in 
there somewhere.) 

The census taker would put a punch 
card into the holder, punch holes in the 
appropriate locations while conducting the 
census and send the completed cards to 
Washington. There they were fed into a 
machine that read the holes and tabulated 
the results. The 1890 census took only 
three years, and Hollerith was a hero. 

“To market his invention (now called 
Тһе Tabulating Machine), he turned to 
big business. The consumer public was, 
after all, having enough trouble accepting 
such recent inventions as the light bulb, 
the phonograph, the automobile, the tele- 
phone and indoor plumbing. Hollerith 
joined a company that eventually called 
itself International Business Machines. 

In 1939, IBM joined with Harvard and 
created the first electromechanical com- 
puter, the Mark I. It was the size of a 
7-Eleven and had 530 miles of wire and 
765,299 parts, including 3304 relays. This 
behemoth could add, subtract, multiply, 
divide and, most important, prepare 
mathematical tables for the forthcoming 
World War. 

By the mid-Fifties, there were Univacs 
and IBMs all over the big-business land- 
scape. Digital came along with its cheaper 
computers (a mere $120,000 per) in 1960, 
and while most of America was deciding 
whether or not to invest $500 in a color 
ТУ, thousands of businesses were buying 
computers. 

"The late Seventies started a new chapter 
in computer history: the personal comput- 
er. Some small-business people started 
using personal computers for accounting 
or word processing or cost projection. Тһе 
big computer companies weren't in- 
terested in such small fish, but Radio 
Shack and Apple and a few others started. 
making a lot of money, and the big 
computer companies had a change of 
heart. IBM introduced a small computer 
and the other big computer companies 
said, but of course we have one, too. And 
so personal computers were firmly estab- 
lished in business, and they all lived 
happily ever after. End of story. 

What is it about personal computers 
that them зо irresistible to 
businesses, both large and small? Well, 


makes 


they're cheap, for one thing. Sure, $2000, 
$3000, $4000, $5000 is expensive for you 
and me, but for a business it's not much, 
especially when you consider what that 
business gets for its money. 

In these days cf increasing labor costs 
and decreasing labor skills, personal com- 
puters have become the Mighty Mouse 
of business (“Неге I come to save the 
day . . .”). Computers do their work 
reliably, uncomplainingly, 24 hours a day, 
if necessary, with no vacations, sick leaves, 
unions, salary or coffee breaks. 

Besides, computers are best at the kind 
of work human beings hate: mechanical, 
repetitive manipulation of words and 
numbers. А personal computer can sort a 
mailing list of 10,000 into Zip Code order 
in about ten minutes. Can you imaginc 
how long that would take a human? And 
how painfully dull the process would be? 

But the computer doesn't carc. You can 
tell it to re-sort the list in alphabetical 
order by last name, and ten minutes later, 
a new list of 10,000 alphabetized names 
ready. Want the name of a person who 
lives on Elizabeth Court? Ask it to find 
Elizabeth Court and it will—within 
minutes. (Given a mailing list of 10,000, 
that's roughly equivalent to examining 
every article in this magazinc looking for a 
single word.) 

Those are extreme examples, showing 
how a single personal computer can elim- 
inate hours, if not days, of tedious work. 
Not everything the computer does tele- 
scopes two days into ten minutes. But if 
a personal computer only doubled the 
efficiency of the person using it, it would 
pay for itself in six months (and that's i 
cluding two months of ti g and transi- 
tion time). 

Let's look at some of the things personal 
computers do well in business. 

Word processing. When I sent around 
my manuscript for The Word Processing 
Book two ycars ago, the New York pub- 
lishers asked, “What’s word processing?” 
Today, even people who claim to know 
nothing about computers know that 
word processing is using a computer to 
write with. 

I can't spell and I'm a terrible typist, so 
when I heard about a marvelous machine 
that would correct my spelling and never 
again make me retype anything, I knew 
I had to have one. That was my in- 
troduction to personal computers. 

Four years later, I can't imagine writ- 
ing, or running a business, without one. 
Letters, articles and reports can be revised 
and retyped (reprinted, actually) in a mat- 
ter of minutes, not hours. Personally 
"typed" form letters can be churned out at 
the rate of one per minute. Labels for our 
hypothetical 10,000-person mailing list can 
be printed in less than a day. Over and 
over, time is saved and tedium reduced 

Word processing, in fact, goes on in the 
human mind. Тһе various tools of word 
processing—pens, pencils, typewriters— 


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are simply there to remind one of what has 
already been processed. A personal com- 
puter outfitted with a word-processing 
program is the best tool to date for assist- 
ing the word-processing mind. 

To demonstrate, let's turn to The Word 
Processing Book and take the work of that 
beloved poet Isadora Goose, known affec- 
tionately to all as Mother. Let’s suppose 
that the well-known journal of poetics 
Humpty Dumpty has asked us to update a 
few of Mrs. Gocse's better known poems. 
We do it very much as Isadora herself 
might if she were alive today with a word 
processor at her peck and call. Let’s take 
the classic Little Miss Muffet. 


Little Miss Muffet 

Sat on her tuffet, 

Ealing her curds and whey. 
Along came a spider 

And sat down beside her 

And frightened Miss Muffet away, 


Now, we know well have to keep the 
basic structure of the piece, maintaining 
the natural rhythm and as many rhymes 
as possible. Our job is to update, not re- 
write. 

The first word that stands out is tuffet. A 
tuffet, in this context, might be either a 
mound of grass or a stool. Mother’s mean- 
ing is not certain here. She states that Miss 
Muffet owned the tuffet when she says “sat 
on her tufet.” However, the word little 
seems to imply that Miss Muffet may be 
too young to be a landowner; hence, tuffet 
may refer to a stool, ora seat. Nonetheless, 
spiders are more commonly found out of 
doors on grassy tuffets. It is a puzzlement, 
and great books have been written on this 
very subject by men and women far more 
learned than I. 

Тһе point is that you don't hear the 
word tuffet used very much in either con- 
text anymore. Real-estate salespersons do 
not extol the beauty of a garden "with 
flower beds, beautiful shrubbery and 
several very nice tuffets." And advertise- 
ments do not appcar saying, "Dining- 
room set complete with break front, table 
and six tuffets." No, tuffet will have to go. 

But what to replace it with? I like the 
idea that Ma Goose meant tuffet to mean 
stool. Too many poems have been written 
outside, going on and on about the beauty 
of the out of doors. We need more poems 
about the beauty of the in of doors. Тһе 
two-syllable word nearest to stool, re- 
membering that we must keep the Goose's 
meter, is barstool. Everyone knows what а 
barstool is—even the readers of Humpty 
Dumpty. 

With the press of a few buttons on our 
word processor, we find that the first two 
lines have become: 


Little Miss Muffet 
Sat on her barstool, ... 


The Muffet part must go. It no longer 
rhymes. The Miss will, of course, become 
Ms. In that light, little seems a bit sexist, 
too. The entire first line needs an overhaul. 


What's a contemporary rhyme for bar- 
stool? Why, of course, car pool. Wonderful. 
Teach the kids the importance of conserva- 
tion from grade one. Miss Muffet is now 
Ms. Car Pool. We've lost an alliteration, 
though: the two Ms in Miss Muffet. And 
what about little? What adjective de- 
scribes this truly contemporary Ms. Car 
Pool and begins with an М? Why, of 
course, modern. 


Modern Ms. Car Pool 
Sat on her barstool, 
Eating her curds and whey. . . . 


Curds and whey are the solid and the 
liquid parts of milk when it curdles. It was 
very popular back when people sat around 
оп tuffets. It has since lost its popularity. It 
is very doubtful that our modern Ms. Car 
Pool would be sitting at a bar eating cur- 
dled milk. A banana daiquiri, maybe; cur- 
dled milk, no. We are, however, writing for 
a children's magazine, so we can't make 
this foo contemporary. She'll have to be 
eating some healthy dairy product. 

Further, whatever she's eating will have 
to rhyme with whey, because we want to 
keep as many of the original rhymes as 
possible, and we've already departed from 
that in the first two lines. Muffet does not 
rhyme with car pool, no matter how far we 
stretch it. 

What rhymes with whey and is a 
healthy dairy product? Simple: Yoplait, 
the brand name for a kind of yogurt. 
Yoplait yogurt, unfortunately, does not 
rhyme with curds and whey. We must in- 
voke our poetic license and switch Yoplait 
and yogurt around, very easy to do on a 
word processor. 


Modern Ms. Car Pool 
Sat оп her barstool, 
Eating her yogurt Yoplait. 
Along came a spider 


And sat down beside her. . . . 


The stuff about the spider is OK. I 
mean, it's traditional. Besides, spider and 
beside her make a great rhyme. Then we 
come to the last line: "And frightened 
Miss Muffet away 
The obvious thing to do is to change 
Miss Muffet to Ms. Car Pool and collect 
one's box of crayons. But, no: There is 
something very wrong with that line. In 
the first place, would “modern” Ms. Car 
Pool really be frightened away by a spider? 
I doubt it. She might not appreciate his 
company as much as, say, John Travol- 
ta's, but to be frightened away? We could 
end the poem with, “Said she, ‘Would you 
please go away?” making Ms. Car Pool 
the graduate of an assertiveness-training 
group, but that, too, skirts the real issue. 
Yes, the disparity is a deeper one. It 
goes to the very core ofone of our primary 
cultural taboos: unjustified prejudice 
against spiders. Justified prejudice 1 can 
understand, People are prejudiced against 


mosquitoes. Who can blame them? But 
where is the justification for the prejudice 
against spiders? A few black widows may 
kill a few Sierra Club members every year, 
but so what? Cars kill 50,000 people each 
year and we love cars. No, the prejudice 
against spiders is unjustified. 

Beyond that, spiders actually do good. 
They eat mosquitoes and flies and all 
those other creepy-crawly things that we 
have justifiable prejudices against. It’s 
time we changed, and change must come 
through education, and education begins 
at bedtime, with nursery rhymes. Let's 
make the spider an ordinary sort of guy! 

So here we have our scenario: Ms. Car 
Pool is sitting at a bar, eating yogurt. A 
spider comes along and sits down next to 
her; since he’s a regular, normal person, 
what does he do? Why, he orders some- 
thing to eat, just like Ms. Car Pool. 

But what would a spider order? “ГИ 
have a Yoplait mosquito yogurt, please.” 
No: Spiders don’t eat yogurt. People eat 
yogurt. No point in making this a Walt 
Disney movie. Spiders eat bugs. But going 
into a bar and ordering a plate of bugs is 
rather unappetizing, so how do we add 
a little class to the situation and, being 
locked into a rhyme pattern, rhyme his 
order with Yoplait? 

Let’s make this a gourmet spider. That 
means he will have to order bugs prepared 
in some French-sounding way, such as 
sauté or flambé. Eating bugs is a bit weird, 
so we'll modify that just a bit, too. We add 
this last line to our Mother Goose com- 
puterized update and, voila! 


Modern Ms. Car Pool 

Sat on her barstool, 

Eating her yogurt Yoplait. 
Along came a spider 

And sat down beside her 

And ordered an insect souflé. 


There are 26 words in the original 
poem. By changing only 11 of them— 
fewer than half—we transformed the en- 
tire poem into something quite different. 
Fifteen words remained the same. With 
a word processor, there was no need to 
retype even one of them. 

Let’s continue with other uses for the 
personal computer in business. 

Accounting. Accounts payable, ac- 
counts receivable, invoicing, payroll, 
general ledger, inventory control—all 
those things that are handled by the data- 
processing departments of large com- 
panies—can now be moved from piles of 
books to piles of disks in small companies. 

Computers love playing with numbers. 
Your bookkeeper may not, at first, enjoy 
becoming a computer keeper, but once he 
or she writes the first invoice with only 12 
key strokes and marvels as the information 
is automatically posted to accounts receiv- 
able or general ledger and the invoiced 
items are simultaneously removed from 


PLAYBOY 


180 


inventory, resistance will melt. 
Cost projection. On a computer, this is 
known as electronic spread-sheeting or 
electronic work-sheeting. It's putting in- 
formation in rows and columns and then 
playing the game What if? What ifthe cost 
of goods goes up five percent; how much 
will we have to raise the retail price? What 
if the cost of goods goes up five percent but 
sales go up seven percent? What if we 
charged $1.95; how many widgets would 
we have to sell before showing a profit? 
Those questions once took spread 
sheeters hours to answer with paper and 
hand-held calculator. A personal comput- 
er answers them in seconds, Electronic 
spread-sheeting allows one to be creative 
with numbers. You can play What if? for 
ап hour and consider more options than 
сап be considered otherwise in a week. 
Data banks. Data banks arc like money 
banks, except that they hold data instead 
of money. You contact a data bank using 
a personal computer, a modem and a 
telephone. You can get up-to-the-minute 
stock-market quotations, financial histo- 
ries of any traded stock, read A.P. and 
U.P.L stories before Dan Rather does, 
make travel arrangements, do research, 
etc. The three most popular data banks 
are Dow Jones News/Retrieval, Compu- 
ve and The Source. 
Electronic mail. Electronic mail allows 
information to be sent across the country 
seven seconds, not seven days. (“And 


on the seventh day, the postmaster said, ‘It 
will do,’ and he rested.") Letters, memos, 
reports, charts—anything that can be dis- 
played on a video scrcen—can be sent to 
any other connected computer (again, 
through modems and phone lines) almost 
instantly. 

That costs a bit more than a first-class 
letter but far less than Federal Express. 
Many computers and modems have auto- 
send and auto-receive capabilities. A letter 
can be sent and received at three AM, 
when phone rates are cheap and when the 
computer is not likely to be in use. No one 
needs to be at either end; the computers 
will take care of it all. An average letter 
takes only a few seconds to transmit, and 
the information is stored on a disk. 

Electronic mail can not only speed com- 
munication around the country, it can also 
specd communication around the office. 
Memos, letters, reports, etc., can be sent 
directly to the “in basket" of one’s person- 
al computer. Their headings can be 
checked from time to time: URGENT MESSAGE 
ОГ INDECENT PROPOSITION may get faster at- 
tention than 14TH REVISION OF FARM REPORT. 

Another version of electronic mail is 
teleconferencing, which allows computers 
in various parts of the world to be con- 
nected for a conference. It can happen 
іп “real” time—that is, everyone can be 
on line at the same time—or it can happen 
over a longer period, with the conference 
participants checking іп occasionally, 


“You haven't lost any weight, my dear. That's my bra 
and panties you're wearing.” 


reading what's been said, making com- 
ments and checking out. 

Graphs. Some companies have entire 
art departments that do nothing but pre- 
pare bar graphs and pie charts. Comput- 
ers can make them in minutes, not hours, 
and in color, if necessary. 

That gives the small business its own art 
department. And while the large business 
will no doubt retain its art department to 
produce bars and pies for corporate re- 
ports, the daily flow of graphs from screen 
to screen and (when printed) from hand to 
hand should increase dramatically in 
board rooms across this great land of ours. 
(Someone may even do a bar graph chart- 
ing the increase.) 

Vertical markets. Although ғглүвоу 
prefers dealing with horizontal markets, 
let’s briefly discuss vertical ones. 

Vertical markets refers to the specialized 
uses of computers for different professions. 
The banker can amortize mortgages on his 
computer. The doctor can schedule pa- 
tients and fill out insurance forms. Th 
lawyer can bill clients and do legal re- 
search. The minister can write sermons 
and mind the flock. 

The number of programs available for 
professionals is vast and is getting vaster 
every day. Whatever your profession— 
from the oldest to the youngest—the 
chances are that someone has written a 
program just for you. 

. 

If any of this has whetted your appetite, 
don’t run out and buy a computer—at 
least, not yet. Next month, we complete 
our three-part extravaganza on computers 
with a buving guide. Yes, in the tradition 
of the Sixties, I’m going to get down, name 
names and tell it like it is. 

We'll explore not only the best computer 
to buy but also how to buy it. Which are 
the best values and which are the worst? 
How can you get discounts? Is mail order 
worth while? How much should you spend 
and how low can you go? 

All that in next month's Gala Christmas 
Issue of PLAYEOY. (It may even have pic- 
tures of naked ladics draped across the 
most sexy computers. I can’t wait.) 

If you have any questions between now 
and then, may I direct you to four mar- 
velous books on computers, all of them 
written, of course, by me. For general 
formation about personal computers, I 
recommend The Personal Computer Book. 
(Catchy title, huh?) For information on 
personal computers in business, there’s 
The Personal Computer in Business Book. IE 
уоште interested in word processing, 
there’s (you guessed it) The Word Process- 
ing Book and its sequel, Questions & 
Answers on Word Processing. 

Well, Гуе gotten in my plug and I’ve 
plugged рглүвоү'з Gala Christmas Issue 
and Гуе told you what personal computers 
do well and don’t do well (yet), so I guess 
Pra through. Sce you next month. 


Taste is all it takes to switch to Jim Beam. 


PLAYBOY 


contacts” 


Cris Collinsworth 
Cincinnati Bengals 


“When I'm going out for a pass, I’ve 
got to see everything clear as can be.” 
Like a lot of professional athletes, 
Cris wears Bausch & Lomb soft con- 
tact lenses. “I couldn't do it without 
тү Bausch & Lomb contacts.” There's 
no frame to get in the way so Cris can 
enjoy great vision—a wider field of 
vision. And he can count on his con- 
tacts to stay put even when he takes 
a hard tackle. 

Cris says, "They're so easy to wear, I 
don't even know I've got “em on.” Fact 
is, they're so extraordinarily thin, so 
finely tapered—eye care profession- 
als rank Bausch & Lomb soft contacts 
number-one for comfort among all 
leading brands. 

Imagine! You can get more enjoy- 
ment out of any sport. Play better 
too because there’s no more fogged- 
up, slipping, sliding glasses to worry 
about. No more hiding your face be- 
hind a shield of glass and frames. 
You'll even look better. 

Find out if you can wear them. Ask 
your eye care professional for more 
Important information about Bausch & 
Lomb soft contacts. They’re 
the most prescribed soft 
contacts in the world. 

For more FREE in- 
formation, write 
BAUSCH & LOMB, 
Dept. 3309-PB, 
Rochester, 


GENTLEMEN, YOU MAY SMOKE 


(continued from page 105) 
shredded as they are in a cigarette. The 
binder that surrounds the filler must be 
natural leaf, not the processed tobacco 
sheet, made from tobacco pulp, that is 
found in most machine-made cigars. The 
outer covering, or wrapper, must be rolled 
onto the cigar by hand, and it, too, must 
be of natural leaf, selected for its appear- 
ance, flavor and elasticity. Simple enough 
criteria. Yet, except for the work ofa dying 
breed—one- and two-man cigar rollers 
hidden away on the side streets of Miami, 
New York and other major American 
cities—that definition excludes any cigar 
made in the United States today. Not that 
patriotism has meant much, judging by 
the reported preferences of patriots from 
John Е. Kennedy to Henry Kissinger 
men given to upholding the Cuban-trade 
embargo on one hand while fondling their 
favorite Н. Upmann or Montecristo in the 
other, 

“Ву the cigars they smoke and the com- 
posers they love,” wrote Nobel laureate 
John Galsworthy, “ус shall know the tex- 
ture of men’s souls.” Soulful textures, of 
course, may be stretching the point a bit, 
but there is something to be said for select- 
ing your own fine cigar on the is оГ 
informed choice. Properly grounded, the 
experience of buying а premium cigar can 
be a pleasant one. With that goal in mind, 
settle back, light up a cherished cheroot 
and learn how to pick and choose among 
the 300 or so brands of select smokes avail- 
able at cigar stores nationwide 


JUDGING QUALITY 


Analogies between fine wine and fine 
cigars are plentiful. The role of nicotine in 
a cigar is similar to that of alcohol in wine; 
the cigar’s aroma is like a wine’s bouquet. 
As with wine, there are vintage and non- 
vintage years for cigars. For the informed 
smoker, however, vintage-year information 
is rarely of practical value, because most 
manufacturers use a blend of two to five 
years’ crops in еуегу cigar. “Certain types 
of tobacco,” says David Lacey, Consoli- 
dated Cigar’s manufacturing chief, “such 
as the heavier Dominican Cuban Seed, 
simply must be aged at least 30 months.” 
Furthermore, the date of manufacture is 
hardly ever stamped on the box. A pity. 

Nevertheless, there are a number of 
ways to judge an individual cigar's quality 
both before and after purchase and before 
and after lighting up. 

Appearance: A cigar’s wrapper should 
be clean, with a uniform color and an even 
grain. A smooth, firmly wound wrapper 
with no loose ends is а thing of beauty and 
ап indication of an excellent smoke. It 
should have no tears or cuts that could 
affect the cigar’s draw, and there should be 
no cracks—a telltale sign of past or pres- 
ent dryness. The ribs, or veins, in the 
wrapper leaf should be small and flexible; 
even though those components make up 


one third of the weight of raw leaf, а con- 
scientious tabaquero will avoid the “bony” 
portions of the leaf when cutting the wrap- 
per strip, thereby preventing an irregular 
burn. There also should be no lumps in the 
wrapper. A few small spots can be over- 
looked; they are caused by rain, soil or 
fertilizer spilled onto the leaf. But if the 
discoloration resembles а wallpaper stain, 
it may be mold—and should not be 
ignored. 

The cigar’s head should be smoothly 
finished. Constructed with proper care, it 
will be perfectly symmetrical, with no 
trace of the rough swirl left by cigar- 
making machinery. The cigar band should 
have no excessive glue attaching it to the 
wrapper, which might tear upon removal 
of the band. When you're buying by the 
box, look for a close match of wrapper. 
colors among the cigars. It is also a good 
idea to inspect the bottom row as well 
as the top. 

Condition: When it is squeezed between 

thumb and forefinger, a well-cared-for 
cigar should feel firm but not hard, neither 
too stif nor too yielding. It must feel elas- 
tic to the touch, springing back to its orig- 
inal shape when released. Another way to 
check the proper moisture and condition of 
a cigar is to "listen to the band." Gently 
roll the cigar between thumb and fore- 
finger, close to your ear. If it’s completely 
silent, it may be too wet; if it produces а 
crackling sound, it may be too dry. The 
ideal is a soft, rustling noise, whisper- 
quiet, 
Next, feel along the length of the cigar, 
looking for knots in the filler that might 
burn irregularly and injure the cigar's 
draw. If a small knot is found, it can some- 
times be loosened and broken up by rolling 
the cigar gently between the fingers. As a 
final part of the inspection ceremony, 
savor the scent of the unlighted cigar. That 
is probably the most enjoyable part of 
selecting a premium cigar, even if it is not 
a totally reliable guide to quality. 

Draw: The draw of a cigar should be 
moderately easy, but it will vary not only 
with the density of the filler but also with 
the shape of the cutting tool used to open 
the head. If the draw is too difficult, the 
cigar may not stay lighted; if too easy, it 
may smoke too hot. That latter considera- 
tion is important because the composition 
of the smoke—and, therefore, its taste—is 
dependent on the cigar's rate of burn. 

n excellent cigar will form a uni- 
form anillo de combustiön between the ash 
and the unburned tobacco. This band of 
combustion may have a slight rise or 
wrinkle to it, but it must not blister or 
separate the wrapper. A cigar that com- 
mits that crime is said to burn with a lip. It 
should also burn evenly, without develop- 
ing an appendage of ash in advance of the 
main ember. If that occurs, it is the result 
of either irregularities in the filler or a poor 
balance between the wrapper and the fill- 
er leaf. (For example, a very thin wrapper 


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PLAYBOY 


184 


will not burn, well in combination with 
thick, heavy filler tobacco.) Overall, a fine 
cigar will burn slowly and steadily without 
excessive heat. It should stay lighted if 
puffed once per minute. And, of course, a 
well-made cigar will burn completely. 

Ash: The correct color for a cigar ash 
ranges from off-white to dark gray. А white 
ash is certainly a joy to behold, but it does 
not indicate a better cigar. On the other 
hand, avoid any cigars that produce a de- 
cidedly brown or black ash, for something 
is wrong. "A black, uneven ash," says 
Consolidated's Lacey, “is a sign of improp- 
егу aged tobacco—and in cigar tobaccos, 
immaturity is synonymous with crudity.” 

When held horizontally, a good cigar 
should comfortably support a fine one- 
inch ash, a sign of high-quality binder leaf. 
An unsightly split in a cigar ash is a sign of 
а poor filler. When the ash falls or is gently 
knocked off, it should leave a sharp, glow- 
ing point. That indicates uniform density 
of the filler, and it's the basis for the widely 
held aphorism “Тһе sharper the point, the 
better the cigar.” 


GOOD TASTE 


The essence of a cigar's sensory reward 
involves three distinct qualities: strength, 
aroma and taste. Each provides a different 
yardstick for the merits of a particular 
cigar's tobacco. 

Strength: Most cigars get stronger as 
they are smoked. If the increase in 
strength becomes unpleasant before a 
cigar is halfsmoked, the cigar is simply too 
strong for you. 

Aroma: The smoking fragrance of a cigar 
is a quality crucial to а connoisseur. For 
most people, subtle shadings of smell clude 


definition, but it is possible to differenti- 
ate between the faint and the assertive, the 
pungent and the sweet, the straightfor- 
ward and the alluringly complex. A cigar's 
aroma is the product of the dry distillation 
of the leaf's resinous oils immediately aft of 
the ash. Hold a well-lighted cigar three or 
four inches from your nose and savor the 
character of its particular aroma. With 
a little experience, you'll find that the 
aromatic differences among different cigars 
become noticeably apparent. 

Taste: This is а highly personal subject, 
what Mark Twain once called “а matter оГ 
suspicion.” But a good cigar should taste 
better or, at least, remain the same, the 
longer you smoke it. Analyzing taste is a 
complicated matter. Judging the result of 
that analysis is even more difficult. More 
than 685 chemical compounds are known 
to occur in leaf tobacco and tobacco 
smoke. What you taste when smoking— 
the nicotine, the tars, the alkalinity—is 
greatly affected by the cigar’s burning rate 
and combustion conditions, the moisture 
content of the tobacco, the puff length, and 
so on. In truth, science does not know 
what makes tasty tobacco tasty. 

But perhaps an anecdote about Thomas 
A. Edison best sums up the question of 
taste. Edison loved expensive Havana 
cigars. Tired of uninvited guests’ helping 
themselves to his office humidor, he de- 
cided to lay in a supply of garbage stogies 
to discourage free-loaders, Time passed, 
but the bogus cigars never arrived, and 
Edison’s stock of Havanas continued to 
diminish. When he finally inquired, the 
matter was traced to his office manager, 
who dutifully reported that, yes, some un- 


“So now they have fire. That still doesn’t make either 
of them more interesting as people.” 


marked cigars had arrived and he had, as 
a matter of course, packed them іп the 
boss's valise prior to his departure for a 
month in California. “Good Lord,” Edison 
huffed, “I smoked every one of those 
damned cigars myself?” 


А VARIETY OF VITOLAS 


Every fine cigar properly has three 
names: its brand, its shape (which in- 
cludes its size) and its wrapper color. For 
example, a particular product of the 
Dominican Republic is known as the Mon- 
tecruz Number 210 Double Claro. The last 
two appellations together are called the 
cigar’s front mark—from the days when 
they were branded on the front of the cigar 
box. In Spanish cultures, the size and the 
shape of an individual cigar are called its 
vilola, a name derived from the Cuban 
word for a cigar mold. 

Constant change has marked the 
fashion ofcigar shapes over the years. First 
one vilola seems to be in favor, then 
another. For the most part, fine 
have always tended to be slightly larger 
than their inexpensive counterparts. 


YOU ARE WHAT YOU SMOKE 


The choice of a favorite cigar shape is in 
large part a matter of aesthetics. But once 
you've picked a width (the technical term. 
for it is ring gauge) you like, simply select 
the longest version of it that you would feel 
comfortable carrying, freshly lighted, into 
your next class-reunion party. It will be 
the correct choice, 


COLOR AND STRENGTH 


No attribute of the cigar is more mis- 
understood than that of strength. One оГ 
the more persistent myths about cigars is 
that a light-green candela wrapper will not 
be as strong as, say, a natural wrapper. 
But it is simply not true. A tobacco leaf's 
smoking strength—which can and must 
be differentiated from its taste and its аго- 
ma—is a specific sensory property felt in 
the smoker's throat, as well as on the lips 
and the tongue and in the rest of the 
mouth, It is directly related to the tobac- 
co's nicotine content, not to its color. And. 
there is no relationship between tobacco 
color and strength of nicotinc. 

Another myth about strength that often 
interferes with the intelligent choice of a 
cigar is that a small, thin style will be 
milder than a large, thick one. Again, re- 
member that strength is based on nicotine 
content, and the type of leaf is as impor- 
tant as the amount of leaf. In fact, hecau: 
thin cigars arc often more tightly packed 
than their thicker brethren, they may seem 
harsher, because they require a harder 
draw. Moreover, small, thin cigars offer 
less tobacco betwcen the glowing ash and 
the smoker's lips to filter out the nicotine, 

And now, as Edward VII allegediy 
announced at the first banquet after the 
death of his tobaccophobic mother, Queen 
Victoria, “Gentlemen, you may smoke.” 


қ | 
Тһе pleasure is back. 


BARCLAY ДЕ 


Warning: Тһе Surgeon General Has Determined m 
That Cigarette Smoking Is Dangerous to Your Health. 99 07) tar free. 


ba 
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РАМРА5 РКІМСЕ55 


(continued from page 110) 
in which she portrays one of Christopher 
Atkins’ girlfriends. She's no dilettante іп the 
performing arts, either. She's done chil- 
dren’s theater, studied ballet for many years 
and isan accomplished tap dancer. 

“T would like someday to win an Oscar," 
she declares. “Га like to be given the oppor- 
tunity to rcad for a role that might give me 
that, instead of having producers say, ОК, 
the girl has a nice body. Let's stick her in a 
bathing suit and put her in a hot tub with 
eight guys? 1 don't want those roles." 

Frankly, Veronica hasn't had much luck 
with even one guy. She blames her travels 
for half the problem, her own jealousy for 
the balance. "Pm a very jealous person. 
Stupid jealous. I think it's a sickness. It's 
OK for me to look at other guys but not for 
my boyfriend to look at other girls. It's so 
sick. I should be put away!” 

Іп the meantime, she gets her kicks from 
cars—the faster, the better. “Т have fanta- 
sies about being a race-car driver” she 


confides. “It’s not only the speed, it's the en- 
joyment I get out of just looking at a car. I 
have very strange fedings when I look at a 
car that I like. It's a turn-on, kind of. I’m, 
like, awed by it. Гус driven as fast as 120 
miles an hour. It's like Im going to die at 
any second; like I'm going to explode. I 
used to love to drive on the autobahn. Cars 
go by you like—shuuum! 

“So far, Pve gotten only one speeding 
ticket, and that was for doing 42 in a 30- 
mile zone. It wasn’t even worth getting a 
ticket at that speed! 

We'll lay odds that it'll be a long time be- 
fore Veronica settles down. “I just don’t 
really know what I want yet. I'd like а rela- 
tionship. I’ve always had a good one to one 
with my mother, and Га like that with a 
man. But I also want to be independent. 
Pm not the type who can just marry a mil- 
lionaire for his money. If I like somebody, 
it's for himself. If it came to that, Га rather 
be the one with the money. I want my own, 
you know what I mean?” 


3 “Тш ез got a new job. The шау 
it works, apparently, is they call her several times 
an evening when they need her.” 


HIGH-VOLTAGE RACQUETBALL 
(continued from page 138) 


away with scattered shots and weak re- 
turns. His fatal, unforced bobbles skipping 
down the floor become demoralizing. He'll 
lose w even a lesser player—possibly to a 
beginner who runs no better than Tip 
O'Neill but who has control. The serious 
A or B player must, like the pros, learn to 
control that eccentric little spheroid. 
. 

The trend in pro play now is “serve and 
kill" We'll come back to the serve after 
setting your game's foundation, but keep 
in mind that if you learn to serve well, you 
won't have to worry so much about kill 
shots, A deceptive serve can hold your 
whole game together. At the same time, if 
you learn to kill efficiently, you won't have 
to rely so much on the serve. 

How should the erratic A or В player 
shore up his game's foundation? He should 
start with the two biggest building blocks 
of all—the forehand and the backhand. 


HITTING FOREHANDS. 

The forehand is racquetball's basic 
stroke. It is generally a player's most po- 
tent weapon. You'll use it 70 percent of the 
time against players who can't place the 
ball to your (probably weaker) backhand. 

Racquetball is a sideways game, and the. 
forehand is a sideways stroke. In execu- 
tion, it's like the golf drive and the baseball 
line drive. If you're a right-hander hitting 
a forehand to the front wall, you're facing 
the right wall. Your legs are a long stride 
apart, knees slightly flexed, body coiled 
like a spring. As the ball comes toward 
you, bring the racquet way back. Pro 
coaches call that E.R.P.—early racquet 
preparation. If you're serious about kill- 
ing, you should try to become an early- 
draw Wyatt E.R.P. As your arm pulls the 
racquet back, your elbow comes up until 
it’s ear-high. Your front foot should point 
to the place you want to hit the ball. As the 
ball comes into your hitting zone—which 
can be any height from ankle to shoul- 
der—uncoil your body and throw all your 
weight onto your front foot. At the mo- 
ment you hit the ball, your racquet strings 
must be parallel to the front wall. 

The most difficult of racquetball’s se- 
crets comes into play right here, at mid- 
swing. Your wrist, which has been cocked 
backward to get the racquet up high, must 
uncock and snap through at the moment оГ 
contact with the ball. Ifyou do it right, the 
ball lashes out foran unreturnable kill shot 
оға passing shot that comes off the wall во 
fast your opponent stands transfixed 

The wrist snap is worth hours of ргас- 
tice to any A or B player who really wants 
to improve. Once you master it, kill shots 
and hard passes will come into your arse- 
nal naturally, not as lucky surprises. Five- 
time national champ Marty Hogan docs 
wrist curls with ten-pound weights to 


Hennessy - 


The civilized way 
to top off the evening 


4 D ЕЙ 
i - The 252 AP spirit 


PLAYBOY 


188 


strengthen his wrists. “The wrist is 70 per- 
cent of my game,” he says. He'll also sit 
around with a newspaper held by its cor- 
ner with his right hand. Using only his 
fingers, he rolls the page into a palm-sized 
ball. Try it—it’s harder than it sounds, 
and it’s terrific work for the racquet wrist. 

Charlie Brumfield, the Babe Ruth of 
racquetball, says the wrist snap is 50 per- 
cent of his game. Both he and Hogan liken 
it to a snap throw across a baseball infield 
or the snap of a wet towel. This year’s 
national champion, Mike Yellen, says, 
“Му wrist is finally snapping like a co- 
bra.” His cobra defanged Hogan’s in Chi- 
cago and again in Atlanta earlier this year, 
breaking Hogan's five-year hegemony. 
Witha flick of the wrist! What all these su- 
perstars arc after is a snake-fast uncocking 
of that racquet wrist—the kind that en- 
abled a 125-pound golfer like Ben Hogan 
to drive 280 yards. Dr. Bud Muehleisen, 
racquetball’s first great coach, has his 
students practice the vital wrist snap by 
dropping the ball just off the front foot and 
hitting it “using only a full wrist cock 
and very little follow-through.” 


HITTING BACKHANDS 


For the backhand, a right-hander will 
face the left wall. Your body action is pret- 
ty much a mirror image of forchand prepa- 
ration. You should allow a little extra 
elbow room, since the backhand wind-up 
brings the racquet arm all the way across 


the body. As always, your front foot should 
point where you want the ball to go. 

Professionals have been arguing for 
years over whether or not to alter the basic 
forehand grip when hitting a backhand. 
Hogan compensates by changing his body 
position a little. Most pros find it easier to 
rotate the forehand grip about a quarter 
inch—moving the thumb a quarter inch 
toward the floor during the backswing. 
The amount of grip correction is some- 
thing each player will have to work out for 
himself. If your natural grip sends the ball 
rifling straight to the floor, for instance, 
move your thumb down a fraction of an 
inch so that your racquet’s strings are par- 
allel to the front wall when you strike the 
ball. Obviously, some experimentation 
should be done in practice sessions. 

The simple drop-and-hit exercise—a 
fundamental drill—can be the best way to 
decide how or whether to alter your basic 
shake-hands-with-the-racquet grip. Keep 
dropping and hitting backhands with var- 
ious grips until you can consistently hit 
with your strings parallel to the front wall. 

Like most sports, racquetball is a game 
of inches. A racquet that's a fraction off 
parallel at impact makes the difference be- 
tween a winning kill and a sad, short skip 
to the floor. Let’s take an example: If 
you're 20 feet from the front wall and you 
hit the ball with your strings parallel, the 
ball is certain to stay on line. You'll get the 
shot you want. However, if you make a 


mistake in as Іше as five degrees of angle, 
the same shot will hit the wall two feet from 
where you wanted it. Since the ideal target 
is the lowest two feet of the front wall, that 
five degrees means life or death. Get those 
strings parallel at impact! 

The higher you raise the racquet on 
your backswing and the more you coil 
your body, the more power, ball speed and 
accuracy you can generate. The idea in rc- 
fining your swing—whether forehand or 
backhand—is to find the smoothest groove 
you can. The only way to do that is with 
practice. The more often you repeat the 
motion, the closer to the groove you'll 
come. Eventually, you'll cut down on those 
unkindest cuts, the unforced errors. 

. 

Now that уош'уе grooved your swing 
with dedicated practice, is there anything 
else to keep you from filling Hogan’s or 
Yellen's shoes? There's plenty, but much of 
it can be boiled down to five important re- 
minders. That's not so bad, is it? That's 
only half as many as there are Command- 
ments, and these are casier to keep: 

* Glue your eyes to the ball. Not literally, 
of course. Goggles are still the recom- 
mended eye protection. But to hit consist- 
ently good shots, you have to remember 
sportscasting's hoariest cliché: “Не missed 
it because he took his eye off the ball.” 
Keep your eye on the ball as you're hitting. 
it. Then watch the point of impact for an 
extra beat after you hit it. Gluing your eyes 


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to the ball prevents last-second lurches of 
the head and the shoulders that throw off. 
otherwise good strokes. Handball immor- 
tal Paul Haber once said, “I always keep 
my eye on the ball—even during time 
outs.” 

* Hit with a smooth, swift arc. While 
stroke analysis breaks the swing down into 
many parts, the sum of those parts should 
be a long, smooth swing of the racquet 
Contact the ball at mid-arc and never 
swat, muscle or punch a shot. Everyone 
La the occasional uncoordinated swat 
when he's on the run, but it's important to 
work the tendency toward short, choppy 
swings out of your game. It takes only а 
moment to sct up sideways and stroke, us- 
ing the whole body. The cardinal error оГ 
many jocks who come to racquetball from 
other sports is hitting with only the shoul- 
ders and the arms, which account for a 
теге fifih of your body's power. 

* Look up and live. Good players utilize 
the ceiling for offense as well as defense 
Ideally, the ball hits the ceiling about six 
feet from where the ceiling joins the front 
wall. Then it skitters down your oppo- 
nent's weaker side, bounces just past the 
serve zone and dies in a deep corner. The 
very best kind of ceiling shot is the **wall- 
paper ball," one that hugs the wall all the 
way back, forcing your foe to break his rac- 
quet on the wall while going for a return. 

* Keep an eye оп your overhead. This is a 
bromide that works as well for racquet- 
ballers as for retailers. The overhead 
smash, which is hit much like a tennis 
serve, has recently caught on with thc 
pros. It's ideal for hitting hard ceiling 
shots. It is also a formidable kill shot from 
deep court if you hit it past your opponent 
into a front corner. Good et 5 
essential to the overhead, since it is сх- 
ecuted higher than other shots, often mak- 
ing you stare into distracting ceiling lights. 

* Love thyself as thyself. 105 impossible to 
carry out all these instructions every time. 
Even new champ Yellen hits one of his 
foot now and then. So give yourself credit 
for trying. When you do miss, don't get 
consumed with self-loathing. Anger often 
brings on a sccond miss, then a third. 
Swallow the anguish; concentrate on the 
ball. Anger from one shot carried over into 
the next point is choking. Choke and your 
game dies at B level. 

Racquetball's good news is that you 
really can master all the techniques we've 
bcen talking about. The bad news is that 
your challenges will only increase with 
success. The good A player will challenge 
the toughest competition at his home 
courts, seek out tournaments, even get a 
pro to test him to the limit. In practice, the 
pros think nothing of trying a bothersome 
shot 200 or 300 times. For the A player, a 
series of 25 forehands, 25 backhands, 25 
serves, a round of overheads, ceiling balls 
and attempted kills should be de rigueur. 

And then there's conditioning. While 
some wiry junior players of either sex can 
wrist snap 125-mph boomers right out of 


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PLAYBOY 


the crib, most of us need wrist curls or 
Hogan’s newspaper crinkle to strengthen 
our wrists. For stamina, a two- or three- 
mile jog or a long swim every other day is 
perfect. Nautilus and Universal machines, 
used regularly, will strengthen your legs 
and pump up the power you apply to the 
ball at the moment of truth. 

For the new player—the once-a-weeker 
with no great desire to climb his club's lad- 
der—racquetball is simply a great way to 
pass an aerobic hour and burn as many as 
800 calories. Running, swinging and 
changing directions all the time make for a 
great deal of fun. Serious A and B players, 
though, understand that it’s necessary to 
jog, swim and even pump some iron in 
order to play at higher levels. ‘Their fun 
comes with winning. 

If you’re serious about the game and 
heed the instructions we've talked about so 
far, you'll soon be a better player. You'll be 
having a great time on the court. If you 
want to refine things even further to take 
that big step to stardom, read on. 

. 


Most players develop a hard first serve 
and fall back on a lob second serve. They 
seldom vary the pattern. Generally, such 
players are orderly people, the kind who 
fold up their sweaty gym suits and practi- 
cally blister-pack them for transport home. 
Predictable servers can be easy prey. You 
don’t want to be one of them, so try to get 
away from the routine of hard serve, soft 
serve—all to your opponent's backhand. 
Try to develop a tricky bag of serves. 

Most servers start from a static stance. 
Right-handers will park themselves about 
five feet from the left wall and let fly. Try 
something different—serve on the move, 
the way the pros do. Start from the same 
position or even a couple of steps closer to 
the left wall. Toss the ball three to six feet 
out. Take one or two strides into it, then 
whip it left, right or in a Z around the 
court. (The Z serve is hit head-high four 
feet from the right corner of the front wall. 
It follows a Z pattern and dies on the last, 
short leg of the Z, in the deep left corner.) 
Serving on the move will throw off your 
opponent’s timing, balance and prepara- 
tion, leading to service winners for you. 

The ambulatory serve also gives you the 
last-second option of hitting a surprise 
serve to your opponent's strong side. If you 
serve past your own body to his left, you'll 
momentarily (but legally) obscure the ball 
from your victim's view. That is not a 
screen ball, which you'd have to do over. 
You will have to keep your serve a legal 18 
inches from your body as it passes you 
coming off the front wall. If you don't, that 
is a screen ball. 

Dor't neglect alternating speedy serves 
with soft, high lobs and Z serves. The gar- 
bage serve can also Ье a deceptive winner. 
It was originally practiced with garbage 
cans in each rear corner—the server 
would lob a serve that bounced once and 
fell into опе of the cans. It works even bet- 
ter without the cans. With an occasional 


garbage serve, you can literally drive your 
opponents up the wall. 

After you've got a diversified repertoirc 
of serves, turn to the back wall to find 
another friend. Hugh Morgan, the 49- 
ycar-old publisher of National Racquelball 
and а B player on the rise, says it was the 
rear wall that woocd him from tennis to 
racquetball. “That wall keeps the ball 
from skittering away to thc next court," 
says Morgan. "It speeds up your entire ex- 
ercise program, compared with tennis. 
After the rear wall stops driving you crazy, 
it becomes a good friend. I moved from C 
to B in a few weeks when | stopped 
crashing into it on a wild charge, hoping to 
retrieve a shot before it hit the rear wall 
and went God knows where.” 

“The first thing to realize about the rear 
wall is its inherent danger,” says сап 
Sauser, racquetball pro for Ektelon and 
the author of five books on the game. “If 
you hit a drive or a lob off the front wall 
and it doesn’t die politely in deep court, it 
will spurt up and out from the rear wall 
and a good player will put it away for a 
winner. You will be dispensing setup 
after sctup. Plums, they’re called.” 

Squash champ Heather McKay had 
back-wall trouble for an entire year when 
playing then-racquetball champion Shan- 
non Wright. It wasn't until she stopped 
giving Wright squishy plums off the back 
wall that McKay began winning. “That 
racquetball is bouncy,” she observes. "I 
learned to keep it low in the back court.” 

Sauscr recommends conquering thc rcar 
wall with solo practice: “You stand about 
five feet from the back wall and toss the 
ball into the rear corners alternately, let- 
ting it spurt back at you. Then—back- 
hand and forehand, left and right—you 
practice returning the ball to the front wall 
as briskly as possible.” 

Just for starters, this simple drill will 
give you instant exercise of judgment, 
practice on your shifts in footwork and 
familiarity with the back wall’s vagaries. 
You can advance the drill by tossing the 
ball off the back wall or into the corners at 
various heights and speeds. Your body will 
quickly become accustomed to whirling 
around and getting set fast for a good re- 
tum. The mental calculations are almost 
the same as those a hockey or billiards 
player makes in adjusting to a carom shot. 

Another shot to practice comes up іп ev- 
ery racquetball game. Your opponent has 
boomed one back. It bounces on the floor 
and hurtles past you too fast for you to hit 
a forehand or a backhand. Now you must 
instantly think of the back wall as the front 
wall. Hit the ball hard into the back wall, 
about chest-high and at а slight angle—so 
the rebound doesn’t hit you. The ball will 
traverse the court and will finally reach the 
front wall. 115 only a save and may be a 
plum for your opponent, but it’s better 
than a miss. A third of all points lost in 
racquetball involve the back wall. Get to 
know it and you'll have a friend for life. 

‘As in tennis, of course, the idea in rac- 


quetball is to place the ball out of your 
opponent's reach more often than he сап 
place it out of yours. If cach shot were per- 
fect, racquetball wouldn’t be much of a 
sport. Still, it is possible to flirt with 
perfection. Most A and B players attend- 
ing pro tournaments are awed by the num- 
ber of times the pros kill the ball with 
perfect roll-outs. They're astonished by 
the frequency with which the pros go for it. 

You can go for it, too, taking risks and 
racking up kills. Emboldened by improv- 
ing control, the serious A or B player 
should become more daring, more aggres- 
sive. If you've practiced your way into a 
grooved, consistent swing, chances are 
you'll soon be surprising yourself with suc- 
cessful kills that come from low, sweeping 
swings at velocities that increase as you 
master that crucial wrist snap. 

Almost as effective as the roll-out kill 
shot and easier to learn is the pros’ second- 
favorite shot, the pinch. Instead of heading 
directly for the front wall, the pinch goes 
into one side wall or the other. ‘Then it re- 
bounds to the front wall and angles away 
from the opponent, whose body is set for a 
straight-back drive or a passing shot. 

Pinches are great change-up shots. Us- 
ing them is good strategy when you have 
been slugging it out from center court dur- 
ing a long rally. Just wait for a chance to 
get set, thrust that compasslike front foot 
toward one of the side walls and, with 
backhand or forehand, smack the ball 
hard into that side wall for the pinch. 

"Тһе pinch kill is a shot that hits the side 
wall within a few feet of the front wall, 
kisses off the front wall and skips or rolls 
away for a winner. You can also hit pinch 
Kills from front wall to side wall, using the 
same technique. Until your proficiency is 
formidable, you won’t want to try them as 
often as the more mundane pinches, but 
they're good secondary weapons. 

Now that you know how to climb the 
ladder to greatness, what happens when 
you stumble into a slump? All athletes hit 
them. Most just keep playing until things 
improve, often not even knowing what 
they’re trying to correct. If you find your- 
selfin a slump, chances are you сап blame 
it on one or more of racquetball’s mortal 
sins—an erratic swing, planting the front 
foot too soon, hitting only with the arm 
and shoulder, a mistimed wrist snap, offer- 
ing too many plums off the back wall, not 
killing or pinching enough and taking your 
eye off the ball. Ifyou can combine a lot of 
enthusiasm with a little dedication, you 
can recognize those problems and start 
correcting them. Your slump сап be over 
by the time the other guy comes back from 
the water fountain. 

One more thing—don’t forget to warm 
up. Tight muscles can only inhibit the 
kind of swing you want to develop. So try a 
few stretches and knee bends, then rally 
awhile before you begin keeping score. 
(The pros warm up until they sweat.) Now 
go to the head of your racquetball class. 


With nothing but a piece of tarpaulin, some helping hands, 
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194 


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COBY GLORY 


than most deciclones. If there’s even the 
faintest suggestion that she's not unique, 
it’s all over.” 

I shook my” head. “If she's a solo, 
she’s a solo,” Г said. “It’s easy to prove.” 

“Harrington’s paranoid on the subject. 
He'd never believe lab results once he had 
a notion fixed in his head,” Sibbrel said. 
“All he has to do is suspect that someone 
close to him is connected in some way with 
cloning—sorry, Kilborn, but that’s the 
way he feels—and hell go all out to de- 
stroy that person. He can do it, too.” 

“Sweet guy your daughter has,” I’ said 
through clenched teeth. 

“Оп any other subject, yes. Harring- 
ton’s given billions to charity. The people 
who work for him love him. But on this 
subject. . .." Sibbrel shrugged. "It's a fixa- 
tion, and he's never been able to shake it.” 

“Harrington's first wife was one of tri 
plets, as I recall," 1! observed. 

“That’s right. The others were both hol- 
lie stars. They led pretty gaudy lives, and 
the constant sight of them with their latest 
lovers . . - well, it got to Harrington. Before 
long, he couldn't believe that his wife was 
herself and not one of the others. It ruined 
his marriage. Tragic, in a ма 

P gave a dry little laugh. “He took it like 
a real man. Blamed the whole thing on 
clones. You won't get much pity for 
Н. Н. Harrington from me, I'm afraid.” 

“Т hope your daughter will be happy 
with him, Sibbrel. May they have triplets. 
Two sets,” I? said, rising. 

Sibbrel nearly jumped ош of his skin. 
"Don't walk out on me, Kilborn, please! 
Nobody else can handle this right. ГЇЇ pay 
whatever you like. All I'm asking is ten 
days. That's all. In ten days they'll be 
married, and she'll be protected for the 
rest of her life. It's for Glory's happiness, 
not for me. Sit down, please. Have a 
drink," he said, hustling to a well-stocked 
bar. “We all need a drink.” 

“Both,” Y corrected him. 

Y don't drink, but 122 had Scotch: пеат, 
on the rocks and with soda. In a more re- 
laxed atmosphere, P said, “You may be 
worrying prematurely. Even if the snip- 
and-runners reached her tonight, it would 
take three years to produce a working 
adult. By then, Miss Sibbrel might have 
brought Harrington around to a more 
reasonable frame of mind.” 

“Pm afraid Harrington is the one who 
brings people around, Kilborn.” 

“Actually, she'd have a lot more than 
three years, unless they used forced 
growth,” Г pointed out. “It’s best not to 
rush the process.” 

“Гуе heard that some of the really top 
bootleg dittomen are using а hot-radiation 
process that will produce a full-grown 
adult in less than a year,” Sibbrel said. 

“It'll be a pretty damned unstable 


adult," I' said. 


(continued from page 136) 


“Do you think they care? If they could 
turn out ten thousand Glory Sibbrels, they 
wouldn't care if every one of them fell 
to pieces in a few years! They'd be bil- 
lionaires!” Sibbrel cried. 

“A point well taken,” I* admitted. 

“Can't you see what that would do to a 
man with Harrington’s fixation? Before 
he's married a year, he sees his wife every- 
where he looks. Every night, thousands of 
men make love to Glory Sibbrel—and 
every Glory is the original! Harrington 
would go out of his mind. Glory would lose 
her husband, her career, everything. I can’t 
let that happen, Kilborn.” 

“All right, Sibbrel. ГЇЇ take the case. 
Starting now. ГЇЇ stay here and keep an 
eye on things, and meanwhile, ГЇЇ ask a 
few questions around,” I? said. 

“Га better get some sleep. ГІ be work- 
ing round-the-clock shifis until this is done, 
and ГЇЇ have to be in the office to dig out 
what I can from the data banks,” 1 said. 

Sibbrel grabbed my'* hands and shook 
them fervently. “Thanks, Kilborn. If any- 
one can keep Glory safe until the wedding, 
it's you. Now I can relax a little.” He 
smiled thinly and shook his head. “This 
has really upset me. Гуе been talking to 
myselfsince last night.” 

"What's wrong with that?" P asked. “I 
do it all the time.” 

. 

For the first few days, the Glory Sibbrel 
case was strictly routine. 1% took 12-hour 
turns as bodyguard while I" made the 
rounds of my contacts and went through 
everything in the data banks. I'* was more 
surprised by what I! couldn't find than by 
what turned up. And 1° found Glory Sib- 
brel more and more difficult to figure out. 

First night on the case, she slept right 
through. Next moming, U flew with her to. 
London, where she was lecturing at thc 
Tate on Turner, Pollock and the neofrag- 
mentists. She was strictly business all the 
way: no small talk, no questions, not а 
word beyond a bare-bones account of the 
snip-and-run attacks that didn't add а 
thing to her father's story. All her attention 
was on the lecture. F was a bit of luggage, 
no more. Coming back, she was stony si- 
lence for the entire 90 minutes of the flight. 
Delayed shock, І? told myself. She hates to 
admit to needing help. She likes privacy. 
She prefers the company of richer men. 
Whatever it was, I? wasn't winning her 
over. E was still nothing but luggage. 

We landed at a private airport. When 
we reached the apartment, P was waiti 
to take over from me, Thats when 
came clear just how far I" wasn't winning 
Glory over. 

Once inside the apartment, Glory 
looked back and forth at те"? and, with 
her most dazzling smile, said, “I simply 
can't understand how you people tell 
yourselves apart. Which one is really Joe 
Kilborn? Do you know?” 


най фур; шз 


ae 


“Well, Mr. ‘To Be or Not to Ве, is it to be or not to be?” 


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When someone calls me you people, 1 
know there’s unpleasantness on the way. 
As calmly as Г could, Û said, “Save that 
for your boyfriend, Miss Sibbrel. He likes 
it. T don't.” 

“1? Did you say I? What does that word 
mean to a clone?” she asked, still smiling 


innocently. 
“Same as it means to you. Or to H, H. 
Harrington,” E said, 


“I doubt that very much. I don’t think 
creatures like you have anything іп com- 
mon with normal human beings." 

Г bit my? tongue and kept quiet, but I? 
had to reply to that. “What would you 
know about normal human beings, Miss 
Sibbrel?” 1° asked coolly. 

She gave me a blast from those big, 
beautiful hazel eyes that would have with 
ered a small forest. She held it for a mo- 
ment, then, in an icy voice, said, “Tell me, 
clone—what does it feel like when you die 
and still go on living? Do you know? Do 
you ever talk about it when you get 
together with others like yourselves? Га 
really be interested to know.” 

That's a question a solo really shouldn't 
ask, and most of them have the good sense 
not to. It's a touchy point among clones. 
Trying to keep my voice calm, F said, “It’s 
not so bad, I'm told. You feel a little light- 
er, that’s all.” 

“A little lighter,” she repeated, as if the 
words were tainted. “So death is no more 
than a diet to you people. God, I'll be so 
glad when H. H. gets back and we can be 
married!’ 

“Until then, ТЇЇ be around to watch 
over you,” I’ said cheerfully: 

“Keep your distance. You're my father's 
idea, not mine. I don't need creatures like 
you to protect me. I’m a crack shot, and I 
hold black belts in three martial arts you 
probably can’t pronounce.” 

“I have four black belts myself,” I? said. 

She slammed the door to her bedroom 
in my? face, 1° exchanged a quick, puzzled 
glance. Whatever Glory Sibbrel’s other 
talents, she was not a convincing actress. 
But Iè" couldn't figure out why she had put 
оп this little scene at all. 

° 

In the meantime, I' was coming up with 
nothing from my! contacts. If snip-and- 
runners were after Glory Sibbrel, they 
weren't a known gang. 

Curiously enough, the fecling among the 
bootleg dittomen— whether or not Sibbrel 
wanted to believe it—was that Glory was 


just too big to touch. Her popularity—the 


very factor that attracted dittomen іп the 
first place—made her dangerous. It could 
cause public outrage, and that always 
meant trouble. 

There werc stiff laws on the books, but 
enforcement was easygoing. Other crimes 
bothered the public more, so snip-and- 
runners seldom got more than a token fine. 
But cutting for an illicit ditto of Glory Sib- 
brel was messing with a national treasure. 
People who tried it might find themselves. 
on the losing end of a crusade. The im- 


mediate gain, enormous though it could 
be, simply wasn't worth the risk 

Actually, that wasn't altogether good 
news. It could mean that a bunch of one- 
cut amateurs were behind this, hoping to 
make a bundle in a single big operation. 
Neither Glory herself nor her father nor 
any of the bodyguards could give me' a 
description of the snip-and-runners. I 
had no lcads at all. 

I' wasn't getting any help from the data 
banks, either. They were so clean that it 
hurt my* eyes to look at the screen. And 
that was odd. 

A little more than a year beforc, Glory 
Sibbrel had been flying back from the Rus- 
sian premiere of her Suite for Ion Guitar, 
Capacitors and Solar Flute when she dis- 
appeared. Weeks later, the world learned 
that she had gone down in Baffin Bay. She 
was badly smashed up, and when Sibbrel’s 
own ship finally found her, days after the 
crash, she was a shallow breath away from 
being dead. 

They brought her back. Sibbrel may not 
haye been in H. H. Harrington’s financial 
league, but he had plenty. He used it all to 
save Glory’s life, She not only survived, 
she came out looking better than ever. It 
was close to being a miracle, And, as is 
often the case with miracles, the facts were 
hard to trace. I* couldn't find a thing. 

Sibbrel wouldn't talk about the accident 
or the recovery period. “Тоо painful,” he 
said, and shut up like a stillbooth. That 
went double for Glory herself. So I’ looked 
elsewhere. 

Glory Sibbrel’s career was a matter of 
extremely public record. The daily faxes 
had material on her from the time she had 
won the Tchaikoysky competition at six to 
the latest hour’s flash. АП the faxes— 
newsies, nasties, snobbies, sobbies, scan- 
dals, brainies—were available to the point 
of eyestrain. But F studied them all. Some- 
times the right answers are so obvious 
they're invisible until you've stared at 
them for a few days. 

The story got foggier as I moved farther 
from her public life, though. When F 
started combing medical records, it 
vanished. 

My’ specialty is digging up facts that 
other people—for all kinds of reasons— 
don't want dug up. I* know where to look, 
and I* know how. If 105 in a data bank, 
ІЗІ find it. But after cight days of dig- 
ging, it was clear that all I' was going to get 
for ту! digging this time was sore fingers. 
Sibbrel had hidden everything to do with 
the real facts of Glory's recovery too deep. 

My? eyes were burning. I* shut down, 
slumped іп a chair and let my! mind drift 
while the office grew dark. Poor Sibbrel. 
On the subject of cloni he was as 
spooked as Harrington, though he was 
decent enough to be a social hypocrite. 
Glory's accident must have been a devoted 
father's worst nightmare come true. In a 
coma, sedated for wecks on end, she'd 
be helpless in the hands of anyone who 
decided to nip a few cells and go into the 


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198 


Glory Sibbrel business for himself. The 
thought of that must have tormented poor 
Sibbrel. His daughter smashed up so bad- 
ly that even he couldn't recognize her. . 

And that was his answer. It had to be. 

Nobody had ever touched Glory Sib- 
brel. People worked on Miss X, or Jane 
Doe, or whatever name Sibbrel came up 
with. And who bothers doing a snip-and- 
run on Jane Doe? Who cares about her 
medical records? 

It was the perfect solution, clegantly 
simple, and it explained the absence of 
medical information. There had never 
been anything on Glory Sibbrel in the first 
place. The big medical miracle wasn't 
made public until Glory was out of the 
hands of the emergency medics and was 
safe with familiar, trusted people on the 
family payroll. Then the news was turncd 
out by Sibbrel’s fax representatives, who 
were used to giving the public just what 
they were dying to hear about Glory. 

I' sat there in the office, dark and silent 
now, thinking of how Sibbrel must have 
felt in those first moments, faced with the 
possible loss of the person most precious to 
him. He didn't have timc to ponder. He 
had to think fast and act fast. If Glory had 
died in that crash 

And then everything came clear atonce. 
A few minor points were still slightly fuzzy, 
but It knew just how to check them out. 
No trouble at all. 174 get the rest of my’ 
answers from Sibbrel. 

. 

It was past two o’clock in the morning 
when I" arrived at Sibbrel's apartment, 
but he was as accommodating as ever. If 
I^ had awakened him, he didn't show any 
sign of resentment. 


I" asked for information about two of his 
big holdings; necessary background data, 
I said. Hc fudged. І followed with a very 
precise question about one of his overseas 
investments. He waffled. So 1* asked him 
outright about the condition of two very 
shaky companies in which he was a part- 
ner, and he lied. All the time, he was 
friendly and no more jittery than usual. 
But when I? led Glory into the room, he 
exploded. 

“What thc hell arc you up to, Kilborn? 
What do you mean, waking up my daugh- 
ter and dragging her in here?" he 
bellowed. 

“Relax, Mr. Sibbrel. I have a few 
questions for her, that’s all,” 1" said. 

“I don't want Glory questioned, under- 
stand? And I won't answer any more ques- 
tions myself. In fact, if you don't stick to 
what Pm paying you for, ГІ drop you and 
hire someone else to protect my daughter.” 

Glory strutted to his side and glanced 
around at me with disdain. “Why don't 
you sack this bunch of amateurs here and 
now, Daddy? Pay them off and hire some 
real men to guard me,” she said. 

F decided to let them have it. “Sorry, 
but it's too late. I can't walk out on a 
murder.” 

“Murder?” Sibbrel said. His voice 
cracked a little, but he swallowed loudly 
and demanded, “Are you crazy, Kilborn? 
Who do you thinks been murdered?” 

“Glory Sibbrel,” I said. 

Sibbrel collapsed in his chair and 
slumped forward over the desktop with 
his face in his hands. When he looked up, 
he was a lot older. He shook his head and 
murmured, “No, not murder, Kilborn. 
Never murder. It wasn't supposed to. . . . 


“How'd you like to come off the bench for 
a little while?" 


І didn't mean for her to die, I swear 
it. I only wanted her out of the way for a 
while... 

“Until Glory? could marry Harring- 
ton,” Y said 

“Why not?" Glory* said defiantly. “Не 
kept crawling after her, and she kept turn- 
ing him down because he wasn't saintly 
enough for her. Daddy needed money, and 
she wouldn't give him a cent—her and her 
charities and her benefits and her good- 
will tours. Now I'm everything she was, 
and I know what to do with it.” 

“How long would Harrington have 
lasted?" I asked. “Six months? A year?” 

“Not more than а year,” I' said. “Har- 
rington wanted to have a big family the 
old-fashioned way. It was important to his 
cause. And clones are sterile. When Glory? 
didn’t get pregnant quick, he’d call in a 
platoon of specialists to find out why. Once 
they found out why, it would all be over.” 

Glory? gave a cold, contemptuous laugh 
“Six months is generous. I would have had 
everything Harrington owned signed over 
to me in a week, and after that, he’d be on 
borrowed time.” 

Sibbrel reached out his hands and 
looked at me with tear-filled eyes, “Kil 
born, please. I was desperate. I needed 
money or I was ruined. I never meant for 
her to die. She was my daughter, for God’s 
sake!” 

“But you tampered with her plane,” I: 
said. 

“I rigged the power cells, that’s all. I 
thought I had it set exactly—she’d have to 
make a landing in Greenland, and I had 
men waiting. She'd think it was a kidnap- 
ing. By the time they let her escape, we'd 
have the Harrington money. But she was a 
better pilot than anyone knew. She man- 
aged to keep the plane up when no one else 
could have. She almost made it across 
Baffin Bay. I never thought she'd get that 
far.” 

“Even if it had worked out, don't you 
think she might have suspected?” 1' asked. 

“Not Glory. She would have believed 
whatever I told her. With all her accom- 
plishments, all her genius, she was . . . she 
was an innocent." 

No one spoke for a moment. Then 
Glory’ stepped before the desk. She folded 
her arms, looked at me one by опе and іп 
that deep, musical voice said, “It could 
still work." I didn't reply, and she clabo- 
rated. “All you have to do is keep your 
mouths shut. Daddy and I will readjust 
your fee. What would you say to ten mil- 
lion—each?” 

I shook my head in perfect unison. It 
wasn't casy, even though I knew she had 
no intention of paying me or anyone 

She smiled that incredible smile and 
brushed back her luminous golden hair. 
Even under these circumstances, I felt my 
heart beat faster and my knees go weak at 
the sight of such beauty. “It doesn’t hurt 
to try,” she said and returned slowly to 
the other side of the desk. She stepped 


back and stood against the wall, silent, 
arms folded. 

"She's right, Kilborn,” Sibbrel said. “It 
could still work if you keep quiet.” 

“No deal,” I? said, and I“ nodded in 
agreement. 

“АП right, then, no deal. So what will 
you do?” The broken, teary-eyed Sibbrel 
had abruptly vanished. I was talking to a 
much cooler customer now. Maybe this 
was the real one. “Can you find the plane? 
Can you find the body? Can you prove 
that this woman isn’t Glory Sibbrel? Come 
оп, Kilborn—what can you do with your 
suspicions except make a fool of yourself?” 

“Not suspicions, Sibbrel. I know you 
did it,” I* said. 

“So it's your word against mine. And 
clones can't corroborate one another's 
testimony, so you're a single, unsupported 
witness. It’s a joke, Kilborn.” 

“The evidence is all there, Sibbrel,” 1" 
said. 

“It won't be for long. You're not as 
smart as you think you are, Kilborn. 
You've told me just where to clean out the 
data banks, and ГЇЇ have it done before 
you get back to your apartment. Thanks 
for your help.” 

I? started for him, but Glory? raised a 
wide-angle needler and I^? froze іп ту” 
tracks. 1'* didn’t move. She could cut me 
to pieces with a single burst at this range. 

“So it’s a standoff,” I said. 

“Standoff?” Sibbrel laughed loudly and 
unpleasantly. “It’s no standoff. It’s victory 
for me and defeat for you. You did exactly 
what I wanted you to do, Kilborn. You 
went out and dug up all the evidence that 
could hurt me, and you handed it to me on 
a silver platter. [ think 1 ought to pay you 
a bonus.” 

“Why me, Sibbrel?” P asked. 

“The Lucky Clover agency has a repu- 
tation for honesty. I knew you'd do a 
thorough job,” he said and laughed agai 

“You're a pretty thorough тап your- 
self,” F said, glancing at Glory. “How 
many more of her have you got stashed 
away in case this one doesn’t work out?” 

“None!” she cried, enraged. “Pm Glory 
Sibbrel, and there’s no other anywhere!” 

“Are you sure? A smart man like your 
daddy always has a backup,” I? said. 

I' added, “As I see it, Miss Sibbrel, 
you're not more than two years old. 
Forced growth under hot radiation, wasn’t 
ie" 

“What about it?” she snapped. 

“It's a very unstable process, I'm sorry 
to say. Very soon, you” 

"Shut up, Kilborn,” Sibbrel snapped. 

"No, Daddy, let him talk. Go ahead, 
you,” said Glory. 

“You'll suffer internal breakdown,” I* 
went on. “It usually starts with the diges- 
tive system. At first, you'll think it's 
indigestion or ulcers." 

“You may have hallucinations,” I' 
added. “Eventually, you'll have psychotic 
episodes.” 


“It spreads to the vital organs very 
quickly. And once the kidneys or the liver 
or the heart starts to degenerate. -.. .” 1% 
shrugged and shook my‘ head. 

“Very dramatic. But that won't happen 
to me. Daddy has a process. He can fix me 
when I start to slip back, Nobody else can, 
but he has a new process. Tell them, Dad- 
dy. Tell them!” 

P kept ту? eyes on Glory’, but 112 
turned to look hard at Sibbrel. He was 
paler now and didn’t seem quite so 
confident. 

“Nobody has a process, Glory,” T' said. 
“There isn’t anything anyone can do. You 
were made too quickly, and you won't 
last.” 


2-2” she said in a little-girl 


“They're trying to scare you, Glory. I'll 
have it. When you need me, I'll be there, 
Glory. I won't let anything——" 

She let out a shrick of wild, pure animal 
hatred and opened up on Sibbrd. He 
slammed back as if he had been hit by a 
fast-moving roller, and I moved all at 
once. P took a short burst as Glory? 
turned, but I'?* was on her’ before 1° hit 
the floor. 

She put up no struggle at all. The ambu- 
lance and the police were very prompt to 
answer a call from Eastblock. Glory? 
didn't say a word all the time we waited. 
She just stared at that picture of her home- 
coming. 


. 

Clones learn a lot about sympathy 
pains. I?* felt just as bad looking down on 
те? in that hospital bed as T? felt looking 
up at my" mournful face and aching 
where the surgeons had pulled 31 pellets 


out of me”. But at least 1 was still—figura- 
tively, anyway—all in one piece. 

“How аге we feeling?” Г asked. 

F opened my? eyes and nodded weakly. 
It was hard to talk, but I’ wanted to know 
how things had come out. “I’m OK. What 
happened to the Sibbrels?" 

“Daddy’s dead,” I! said. “Glory? won't 
make it to trial. Degeneration has already 
setin. She hasn’t got two months left.” 

“You spotted her as a forced-growth 
job,” E said to me’. “That was pretty good 
judgment. No one else even suspected it.” 

“She just wasn’t behaving the way 
Glory Sibbrel ought to behave. If she was 
a forced-growth clone approaching the de- 
generation point, that could explain the 
aberrant behavior. I made a lucky guess.” 

“And Sibbrel waited too long to bring in 
Glory’,” P pointed out. 

“Yes, that helped. But, actually, it was a 
lucky guess. In fact, almost everything I 
threw at Sibbrel was guesswork. It fit 
together, but there wasn’t a shred of hard 
evidence," I' admitted. 

T was getting tired and ['”* had a lot to 
do at the office, so I™™ said goodbye and 
left me to rest while 14 caught up on the 
work. It was just beginning to rain when 
19% left the hospital, and 1'? decided to 
catch a roller and split the fare. I* pre- 
ferred to walk. I" wanted to do some think- 
ing, and I* always think better in the rain. 

But all the way back to the office, I' kept 
thinking of only one thing: What a relief it 
was not to have to change the name of the 
Lucky Clover agency to the Shamrock 
agency. Not that I have anything against. 
the Irish. Four headsare better than three, 


that's all. 
El 


"It's nice to know we have 
a viable alternative when none of us really feel like 
playing bridge." 


198 


DINNERS WITH ANDREY 


(continued from page 128) 


market is too big. Too many petty officials 
have been corrupted." 

“Апа as for political liberties?” 

He leaned toward me with his elbows on 
the table and his glass in both hands, held 
below his chin. “You don't ask for things 
to be the way they are,” he said. “One 
must live a life of service. Must! There is 
no other way. I want to be а good person. I 
must serve my country.” 

I sighed and sagged my shoulders just a 
bit and held his eye for two blinks and then 
looked away and said, “Well, there's truth 
on both sides, Andrew. I know what you 
mean. I feel much the same way.” 

And with that we got back to center, to 
our right faces and correct attitudes, and 
were soon buzzing smoothly on about 
Nosenko, moles, triple agents and other 
arcana of the spy trade, which appeared to 
fascinate him no less than me. 


. 

Friday, March 31. Nine days after my 
second dinner with Andrey. А cocktail 
party in the Rayburn Building to kick off a 
new organizing campaign for nuclear dis- 
armament. I was looking for Gary Thom- 
as, a journalist and former U.S. Army 
Intelligence officer with whom I had 


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I found him with the other journalists at 
the free bar and drew him aside with a 
fresh double vodka. Thomas was a large, 
shambling man of 30 with bushy hair and 
mustache. 

“Т need a favor,” I said. 

"How come?" 

“There's a Russian diplomat named 
Andrey Suvorov, a third secretary. I think 
he's trying to romance me.” 

“Ро tell.” 

"He's taken me to dinner twice and he's 
asked me to write something for a Soviet 
magazine.” 

“Suvorov.” 

“Andrey. A young guy.” 

“What do you make of him?” 

“I assume he’s not a free spirit He 
seems to want to make friends. That might 
interest your old friends in the Justice De- 
partment, but if I approached them cold, 
they'd be suspicious. Can you help?" 

“Would you talk to them?” 

“Isn't it the right thing to do?” 

He gave me a bit of a look, but I didn't 
feel I had to answer for his surprise. I let 
my question stand. “Sure,” he finally said. 
"Let me get back to you.” 

A week later, over mugs of dark beer at 
Columbia Station Bar and Grill, Thomas 
told me that, in fact, his friends had a keen 
appetite for information on the third 
secretary. “They think he may be impor- 
tant,” he said. 

“So what happens next?” I said. 

“Sit on it. They have to open up a case. 
That takes a few days. Someone from Jus- 
tice will be in touch with you.” 

Тһе first to get in touch, though, was 


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PLAYBOY 


Suvorov, who called the A.LB. office in 
mid-April and got Jeff. When I got in, Jeff 
said, “The diplomat called. He said he’d 
call back. He called himself Andrew.” 

“He likes to do that.” 

“What's up with him?” 

“I don't know, but Гуе been meaning to 
tell you that Газ going to talk to the FBI 
about him.” 

164 dark brows came together. “Why 
would you do that?” 

“Its obscure, but it feels right.” 

“How right?” 

*Fifty-one percent” 

“That much?” 

“Easily.” 

“What about your reputation?” 

“What reputation?” 

“On the left.” 

“What left?” 

“Come on.” 

“I think that being on the left in Amer- 
ica shouldn't mean that you're indifferent 
to the Stalinism of the Soviet Union.” 

Jeff said, “I believe it’s a serious mistake 
for you to get in over your head between 


two Cold War professionals who are basi- 
cally trying to destroy each other.” I had 
known beforehand that he wouldn't like it, 
but still I had to tell him about it. He was 
too sharp not to see that I was up to some- 
thing. Besides, I needed someone to know 
what I was doing. Jeff might think 1 was 
nuts, but I knew he was totally on my side. 

Andrey had not called back a few days 
later when a young woman with what Jef 
called “а very sweet voice" called for me, 
She talked briefly with him about when Pd 
be back but wouldn't leave her name. She 
just said she would call again. 

It wasn't until mid-May that we made a 
hookup. I was alone in the office early in 
the morning when her call came. From her 
hello, I knew it was the same woman Jeff 
had talked with. “Jeannie Sawyer,” she 
said her name was, “from the Justice De- 
partment. I’m so happy that I’ve finally 
reached you.” I immediately felt the surge 
of a new interest in this escapade. But then 
she said, Would you please hold the line 
for Mr. Stassinos?” 

“Oh,” I said. “Sure.” 


"Harold, did ya ever think that maybe 
some morning you might try buryin’ your nose 
in the sports page?” 


A click and then, “Hello, this is Jim 
Stassinos speaking." His not a sweet voice. 
but a gruff, chesty onc that made you wish 
you'd worn a necktie. He would calm 
down later, but now he was as nervous as Ї 
was. “1 understand," he said, "that we 
have a friend in common." 

“Pon your guy,” | said. 

“Do you think we could meet?” 

“Sure, but 1 haven't heard from this 
friend since the middle of March. He may 
have lost interest.” 

“Га still like to discuss him with you.” 

I found him waiting for me at lunchtime 
the next day at Mr. Eager's, with a pack of 
filter cigarettes and a cup of black coffee 
before him on the booth table. He was a 
short, dark, solidly built man with black, 
curly hair flecked with gray, curly gray 
sideburns, an olive complexion, round, liq- 
uid brown eyes and a skeptical, one-sided 
smile. He wore a blue blazer and gray 
checkered slacks with flared сий. Stas- 
sinos was a little younger than ] was, a lit- 
Че older than Suvorov. His hands were 
small and thick, with stubby, hairy fingers. 
He smelled of after-shave, but his cheeks 
were dark with eager new growth. 

“Jim Stassinos, FBI,” he said, standing 
and offering his hand. “It’s good of you to 
meet with us," he said, though he was 
alone. His voice now much lowered and а 
little raspy. A bit of the thug in the forward 
slouch of his heavy shoulders. But his 
brown eyes twinkled and looked straight at 
me, so it felt good to sit down with him. 

“The pleasure is mine,” T said. 

He gave me a chance to order coffee but 
kept his eyes on me, friendly but direct. “I 
move we skip the ceremonies and go right 
to the point,” һе said. 

I agreed. He pulled an envelope from 
his inside pocket. "Let's make sure we're 
talking about the same character, he said. 
He took out a black-and-white photo and 
turned it my way on the table. 

Тһе photo had been taken from an 
elevation of two or threc stories across the 
diagonal of a downtown Washington in- 
tersection. It showed Suvorov striding off. 
the curb at a crosswalk and turning to- 
ward the camera to check the traffic 
behind him. He was caught in a shaft of. 
sunlight and his features were distinct. His 
face wore a sober, concentrated frown. 
“It’s him," I said. 

*And what is the nature of your con- 
tact?” 

“He introduced himself last February at 
a public function on the Hill. He called 
later to ask me to dinner. He's taken me to 
dinner twice and seems to want something 
ongoing. But I haven't seen him for almost 
two months.” 

“He paid?” 

“For dinner? Damn straight.” 

“Could I ask you how he paid?” 

“Like, plastic or cash? Fresh twenties.” 

Stassinos had his hand-size spiral note- 
book out and with a black drugstore ball- 
point zipped off two quick lines. 

“OK,” he said, clicking his pen, locking 


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PLAYBOY 


204 


up, “we are definitely interested in talking 
with you about this person. Welve been 
looking at him since he came on duty last 
year. It's been hard to get anything sub- 
stantial, but check this out." From the 
same envelope, he now took a photocopy 
of a Washington Post story from the prc- 
vious summer. The lead was: "On July 13 
[1977], a Soviet operative concealing his 
identity showed up at the Library of Con- 
gress in quest of an unpublished compari- 
son of U.S.-Soviet military strength—an 
example of the bold intelligence game 
played by Ше Russians" Three para- 
graphs down, the story identified the bold 
intelligencer: *Andrey Suvorov, third sec- 
retary of the Soviet embassy, appeared 
unannounced at 12:35 рм on July 13 on 
deck A of the Library of Congress, site of 
the forcign-affairs and national-defense 
section. Suvorov, suspected of K.G.B. con- 
nections, did not identify himself but asked 
for the U.S.-Sovict defense study prepared 
by [Congressional Research Service] 
analyst John Collins for the Senate Armed 
Services Committee. That report, detail- 
ing relative U.S. weakness, had been s 

pressed by the Senate committee's stal 

Stassinos offered an amended account. 
“The guy wanders right into the classified 
stacks,” he said, a flash of gleeful admira- 
tion in his eyes. “Somebody comes across 
him and says, ‘Who the hell are you? He 
says, ‘Hi. My name is Andy. I'm the librar- 
ian. Can I help you? Ha! With this 
accent straight from Mother Volga! 

Third Secretary Suvorov had attracted 
the ЕВГ5 attention before then, primarily 
because of his lifestyle. Said Stassinos, 
“Most of the lower-level staff at the Soviet 
embassy, like Andy, they have to live very 
meager social lives. They don’t make a lot 
of money and they have to send a lot of 
what they do make back home. Andy, on 
the other hand, moves around an awful lot 
for a third secretary. And has he talked 
about 

“Her name is Marie and he says she 
hates living here.” 

Stassinos chuckled. “I guess that’s why 
she has to run amuck at Bloomie’s twice a 
week,” he said. “This is Marie. 

Another photo, full length, of an attrac- 
tive brunette in her late 20s wearing a 
dark, chic hostess gown and strappy shoes 
in a well-furnished interior that Stassinos 
would not confirm was within the Soviet 
embassy. “Andy and Marie,” he said, 

“appear to be members of the White Ru: 
sian elite within the Communist. Party. 
He's the son of wellborn, well-to-do 
Muscovites, both of whom were public 
figures. His mother was a ballerina, and 
today she runs a dance school in Moscow. 

is father was а diplomat or a government 
l of some kind who was able to send 
Andy to the best schools. The signs are 
that he’s an important person, not just а 
lowly third secretary. But is he a legitimate. 
diplomat or a secret agent? We don't 
know.” 

“Now, when you say ‘we,’ of course,” I 


you mean——” I stopped, waiting 
for him to finish the sentence. 

“You'd like to know who the hell I am, 
right?” he said with a little laugh. “Fai 
enough. Lam a special agent of the FB] 
the field of counterintelligence. I work out 
of the Washington station ol at Buz- 
zard's Point, and this is my LD. The pur- 
pose of our C.I. work is to keep foreign 
secret agents from operating in the US. 
My group's special job is to watch the staff 
of the Soviet embassy. There are more 
than 700 people in the Soviet compound 
here, and 47 are diplomats. About 100 
have diplomatic immunity. We believe 
that as many as a third of them may be 
illegal secret agents, people whose real 
base of operation is the K.G.B. and whose 
purpose is to carry out K.G.B.-directed 
espionage missions. We have to figure out 
which of them are the most probable spies 
and then try to figure out what they're. 
doing and keep them from doing it in 
peace.” 

You think Andy is one of those spies?" 

“We don't like to reach unfounded con- 
clusions as to such things,” he said, sound- 
ing professional. “You tend to think, Why 
take a chance; if the cocksucker’ at all 
funny-looking, assume he's K.G.B. and 
put him under a lamp. But you soon real- 
ize that you don't have those kinds of 
capabilities or all the legal space you'd 
like. So you try harder to make sure about 
the funny ones, like Andy. It would mean 
just as much to us to find out that he’s a 
bona fide diplomat as to prove that he's 
really a spy. The expensive thing is not 
knowing. 

“So, back to your question,” he said— 
quickly making sure again that we were 
still alone in the back of the pub. “What 
we're getting from sources is that the 
K.G.B. is now operating a very large-scale 
penetration mission in this country, work- 
through the UN in New York 
embassy in Washington. So 
the bottom line is that we don’t know a 
fucking thing fora fact, but the guy fits the 
picture. Does that bother you?” 

“Why should it bother me?” I said with 
genuine innocence. 

“Some people would get bothered dick- 
ing around with a dude who might be a 
James Bond of the K.G.B.” 

Whats he gonna do bad to me if 
he is?” 

“Most likely, not a thing. The question 
is, How happy can you be with a ‘most 
likely’? These are grown-up kids.” 

Are you encouraging me to be apathet- 
ic, officer?” I said. 

He grinned and shrugged. “You don’t 
have to get involved at all, you know.” 

3 ош guys were іп favor of 


he said with a trace of a smirk. 
So why are you so hot to get me out of 
this? Don’t you want to get a line on him?" 
"Yeah," he said, not missing a beat, 
"but what do you want?" 
Suvorov's words came to mind at that 


moment. It gave me a dark joy to make 
them mine in this dialog with the special 
agent. "I want to be a good person,” I 
said. "I want to serve my country.” 
Stassinos gave me a detached, apprais- 
ing look, not unfriendly. He said, “You are 


identical, as I understand, with a man by 
the same name who was a president of the 
SDS in the Sixties.” 


Yes 

*[ thought all you bums hated the 
FBI” 

“That’s about right,” I said cheerfully. 
“Why shouldn't we, since the FBI played 
us so dirty?” 
he said quietly, turning up his 


“You went after King and you went 
after the movement,” I said—calmly, I 
thought—“not just to keep an eye on us 
but to destroy us, which is different 
and worse. And you didn’t do that be- 
cause we were subversive but because 
an anal-compulsive Napoleon type 
named J. Edgar Hoover disagreed with 
our politics." 

Stassinos slowly tamped out his 
cigarette and gave the ashes a long, sober 
look. He said, “А lot of people are down on 
Hoover now. In the bureau, too. Personal- 
ly, I could've lived with him OK. But I 
think almost everyone realizes now that 
there меге excesses on both sides during 
that period of time. I was sorry to learn 
of the bureau's contribution to it. In any 
event, here you are, talking to me.” 

“And you're wondering why.” 

"Maybe you smell a good story,” һе 
said with a crooked, questioning smile. 
*Maybe you're in cahoots with the Rus- 
sian. Maybe you've figured out some new 
smartass way to embarrass the ЕБІ.” 

1 liked his manner. “Maybe I’ve just 
figured out that it’s you assholes or no- 
body,” I said. “I mean, move over, pal; it’s 
my FBI, too: 

He grinned. “Bear in mind that it’s 
completely your decision. Any relationship 
between you and the bureau is purely 
voluntary and uncompensated on your 
part. But if you do go on seeing this man 
and if you are willing to continue talking 
him over with us, then Ї сап say we'd 
appreciate it. Hell buy you steak and 
champagne, and we'll spring for coffee.” 

“Ideal,” I said. 


. 
Three days later, Мау 15, a Monday 
evening, Andrey called to set up a dinner 
date for the next night. I informed Stas- 
sinos by phone the next morning, an ex- 
cuse for five seconds with Jeannie's voice. 
Stassinos seemed unsurprised that Andy 
ing the thing. 
night, at 7:30, I stood waiting 
for Suvorov outside Kramer's coffeehouse 
near DuPont Circle. He showed up five 
minutes late, handsome and trim in a 
tan blazer and a dark-green wool tie, and 
took us walking up Connecticut Avenue 
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206 


dart-throwing atmosphere, like Mr. 
Eagen’s. Maybe Andy thought I liked 
working-class situations. 1 ordered a 
Jameson’s and ale and he ordered a John- 
nie Walker Black Label and water. 

He Rad prepared his opening and played 
it as soon as we were settled in a booth in 
the nearly empty back room. “There is 
certain information that I am trying to 
have,” he said, staring at me intently. “I 
think it is in the Library of Congress. Tell 
me, do you think a Soviet diplomat such as 
myself can go to this Library of Congress 
and do some research?” 

I assumed that that was to find out 
whether or not 1 had seen the Washington 
‚Post story. My correct answer, 1 thought, 
was to show not the least flicker of recogni- 
tion, and I assume I succeeded, because һе 
relaxed and dropped it. 

Our drinks arrived, we raised a small 
toast and in a warm, friendly way he said 
that he had been thinking а lot about our 
last conversation. He was afraid, he said, 
that anti-Soviet propaganda had poisoned 
my mind. Not all or even many Soviet in- 
tellectuals became dissidents, and the 
Soviet people were not uncivilized, boorish 
slaves. 

“Бо you must come to Soviet Union,” he 
said, “to see for yourself what the Soviet 
people are like. It would open your eyes.” 

“I agree, my friend,” I said, “but I have 
no way to do that.” 

“Ah!” he said, smiling. “But you see 
you are wrong about this. You have a 
friend.” He indicated himself with a two- 
handed gesture and a warm smile. “I have 
friends in Intourist. There would be no 
problem with visa at all.” 

“Andrey, you ask me to be blunt with 
you. I'm a poor free-lance writer. ТеҒапа I 
run the A.I.B. office on a shoestring. My 
salary is tiny. There’s no way: 

“No,” he said, breaking in, lowering his 
voice, a frown of reassurance on his face. 
“Money is not a problem,” he said. Then 
he smiled and quickly added, “I mean, it 
is a problem, but it is not a problem. Do 
you see?” 

“You mean a trip could be arranged? I 
would be a guest?” 

"I think, you know, maybe this is 

sible.” 

“But the problem that is a problem,” I 
told him, “is that I have commitments to 
the J.F.K. case. Congressional hearings 
begin in a few months. I've been with this 
since 1973 and the case has never been 
closer to a breakthrough. This is no time 
for me to leave it” 

“But you must realize you have found 
out all you will ever know. You cannot 
accomplish more without a new source.” 

“Tell your government about that. You 
could release the K.G.B.'s file on Oswald, 
which you say does not exist. Besides, we 
have accomplished things without new 
sources. The committee has already said it 
sees evidence of a conspiracy of some kind 
in the murder of King. It will say much the 
same thing about Kennedy this fall.” 

Andrey considered that, rubbing his 


chin, and said, “But sometimes, you 
understand, a writer should move on to 
other themes, don’t you agree?” 

He sure knew how to needle a guy. I had 
several friends who thought my absorption 
in the J.F.K. issue had become unhealthily 
obsessive- 

But of all people, I thought, Suvorov 
ought to understand the objective grounds 
for that obsession. If а full-out Congres- 
sional investigation were about to reverse 
Warren and assert that Oswald had been 
part of a conspiracy, then Oswald's murky 
ties to the Soviet Union were about to be- 
come by magnitudes more sinister. Even 
now, I argued to Andrey, Nosenko was 
once again being grilled by Congressional 
staffattorneys convinced that his story was 
shot through with fatal contradictions. 
Even if Andrey were only a third secretary, 
how could he be so uninterested in that 
drama? “I think you're missing a big bet,” 
I told him. “You should care more than 
you seem to do about this.” 

But Andrey was looking away. A lean, 
tough-looking, middle-aged black man in 
fresh, faded jeans and a dark-plaid shirt 
with a jacket slung over his shoulder had 
staggered drunkenly into the back of the 
pub, where Andrey and I sat alone except 
for two oblivious sweethearts across the 
room. The black guy swayed up to the 
jukebox, fed it, then swayed back to wait 
for his quarters to take effect. Disco. This 1 
was dimly aware of as a blur off to my left. 
The blur should now, by rights, have tee- 
tered off back to the bar in the front room. 
But instead, he took two careening steps 
sideways and backward and, with arms 
flailing the air for balance, came wheeling 
down upon our table. With a final pirouet- 
ting surrender togravity, he plopped down 
heavily right next to Andrey, leaned him- 
self full into Andrey’s shoulder and gave 
him a long grin of large, white teeth show- 
ing crowns of gold. 

“Hey, baby, my man,” he said to 
Andrey іп a thick street dialect, “what's 
happening?” 

Andrey was in a state of Red alert. He 
had pulled himself back into the corner of 
his seat, as far away from our uninvited 
guest as he could be, trying manfully to 
smile and go along with the joke but clear- 
ly not sure that a joke was what it was. 

“Who in the namc of hell are you?” he 
said at last, the only time I ever heard him 
curse. I thought he did it well, the problem 
of an outmoded idiom in this case offering 
a small rhetorical triumph. 

“Ме?” said the black guy with a sharp 
smile. “Who am I?" 

“What do you want?” 

“My name is Jim, Jim. You dig? I wan- 
na cigarette.” 

“Jim? Your name is Jim?” 

“Hey, Jim, how ya been, baby!” He 
waved one hand in Andrey’s face, magi- 
cianlike, while with the other he groped at 
his chest, displacing the handsome green 
tie. “I wanna cigarette, Jim.” 

“Jim?” said Andrey, trying to laugh. 


He gave me a lost look. I wriggled in my 
seat and moved my mouth, started several 
gestures as though I were about to say 
something that would break the spell, but 
I couldn't find the handle. 

“Hey, Jim,” said Jim in a crooning 
tenor, “you got a smoke for a veteran?” 

Jim reached for Andy's pack of 
cigarettes on the table. 

“I have only one left,” said Andrey. He 
rescued his remaining cigarette with a fine, 
deft, unanswerable snatch. Jim never had 
achance for it. 

“Hey, baby,” sang Jim in a soothing, 
drawn-out tone into Andrey’s ear, “lemme 
ax you sumpin’.” 

“Pardon me?” said Andrey, trying to 
speak with great correctness but giggling 
little puffs of voiceless, unamused laughter. 

“Are you a Slav?” said Jim to Andrey in 
a cultivated voice. 

Andrey did a double take. “А Slav?” 

Jim only looked at him. He did not re- 
peat the question or try to improve upon it. 

Andrey looked at me desperately, then 
down at Jim. “Yes,” he said finally, 
deepening his voice, “I am a Slav.” 

1, too, was startled by the question and 
the sudden change of manner. 

“Why do you ask him that?” I said. 

“Why not?” said Jim. 

“I mean, what do you especially know 
about Slavs?” 

Jim measured me with a long look, 
seeming less and less drunk by the second, 
though he still leaned up against Andrey. 

"I know about Slavic peoples,” said Jim 
in a mellow, deep voice. He was older than 
Thad thought, over 50. He turned from me 
to peer directly at Andrey. “I was a friend 
of Milovan Djilas. You know the name.” 

Andrey pretended not to understand. 
Djilas was a Yugoslav revolutionary hero 
ol World War Two who later broke with 
Soviet communism and wrote several 
powerful and influential attacks on Stalin 
and the Soviet system. I thought it was a 
cute trick but that it blew the whole thing. 
Andrey now knew—or had to assume— 
that Jim was a plant. But then, maybe, 
that was the point. 

“Excuse me,” said Andrey with a grim 
face, his cheeks flushed; and when Jim 
didn't move quickly enough, he gave him a 
shove, which I thought was pretty brave. 

"Hey, baby,” said Jim with a laugh, 
dropping back into street speech, “don” be 
blue, I ain't gon’ do nothin’ bad to you!” 

"Im getting some cigarettes," said 
Andrey. He did not want physical con- 
frontation. There were several obvious 
reasons for avoiding that. Yet he was not 
about to accept being crowded this way. 
“Please!” he said sharply. 

Jim jumped. “Be cool, be cool!” he 
laughed in a high shuffler’s voice, sliding 
gracefully out of the booth and making 
way for Andrey, who gave me a nod to- 
ward the door. I wondered whether or not 
I should wave to Jim, but he was already 
back into his drunk routine, reeling 


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gracefully toward the men's room 

Andrey was nervous, and I could see 
why. Jim might well be a random guy 
from the neighborhood. On the other 
hand, Andrey was under a kind of primal 
obligation to assume for the sake of argu- 
ment that Jim was a counterintelligence 
operative playing a little game with his 
head. The message of the game was that 
Andrey must be living within a much 
tighter surveillance net than he had 
thought. Or that something was wrong 
with his spycraft. Or that someone was 
snitching. Would the thought cross his 
mind that his problem might be me? 

He said as we walked toward DuPont 
Circle that the evenings episode was а 
perfect example of the harassment to 
which he was continually subjected here. 
He felt depressed and disappointed. His 
wife was miserable. “She is bored and 
homesick for Moscow,” he said. “And I, 
too, am homesick. I have too much work 
to do. I have to follow the U.S. Congress, 
you know, and І have to follow dissident 
groups and individuals, and I think it is 
too much. Marie and 1, we do not even 
know if we should have our first child. So I 
thin! time to take vacation.” 

We had reached his car, parked on a 
cross street. He forced a smile he seemed 
not to feel. “I will be in touch with you 
again about middle of September,” he 
said. “I hope you have good fortune with 
your projects. And after summer, maybe 
we сап meet again to discuss politics?” 

I assured him Га still be there. We 
shook hands. He got in, waved, started off, 
then stopped and lowered the window. He 
said, “It must be dangerous for you to 
meet with me. Maybe someone will try to 
do you harm?” 

T thanked him for his concern and said I 
doubted that I was in any danger. He 
smiled softly, more genuinely than before, 
perhaps reassured that he had done 
nothing to endanger me. Did he care 
about that? Or was I wrong? 

“Sce you in September,” I said, and we 
shook again. Then һе drove off. 

I walked home under a waxing moon 
and told Jeff that the whole thing was over. 
Andrey had been startled by his shadow 
and had pulled out of the game. 

The next afternoon, I told Stassinos 
approximately the same thing but more 
hotly. “What was the point of giving Andy 
а reason to be suspicious of те?” 

“You're being paranoid,” he said. He 
was amused by Andy’s problems with Jim. 

“I thought you told me we were playing 
with grown-up kids here.” 

“You can make yourself crazy this way, 
my friend. This guy Jim was not our man, 
1 promise you that. He was not FBI.” 

“If Jim wasn't FBI, what was he?” I 
sa 

“Hey, big guy, the world is filled with 
private maniacs. 

“Stass, please,” I said with what I took 
to be a weary sigh, “remember that I'm 
older and more experienced than you. 


Stop lecturing me on life. Just tell me what 
I want to know.” 

‘es, and what's that?” he said with a 
little smirk. 

“If Jim was somebody’s guy—OK?— 
and if he was not the FBI’s виу--ОК?-- 
then whose guy might he have been?” 

Stass looked at me and chuckled. 
“Army? Navy? Air Force? Marines?” 

Thad to laugh. “It’s that nutty?” 

He smiled pleasantly. “Can you live 


ince the whole thing’s all over, any- 
I snapped, “sure. Since the Army or 
the Navy or the Air Force or the Marines 
or the CIA or the DIA or the NSA has 
already scared the fish away.” 

Stassinos said, “He'll be back.” 

“You seem serenely confident.” 

“Because to him, you're the fish.” 

. 

It was, in fact, July when Aridrey called 
next, two months ahead of schedule. He 
wanted to meet right away, that night, at a 
French restaurant called Alouette out in 
Arlington, іа, beyond the wild Poto- 
mac. That was new with him. Before, 
he had always agreed to meet me some- 
place within easy walking distance of my 
office at DuPont Circle. And it turned out 
not to be the only thing that was new. 

Right away, he was bitching, but in a 
cheerful, energetic way. He couldn't make 
his vacation, after all, though he had left 
Washington in June, after our last strange 
session. He was still working too much and 
Marie was ready to quit. But since he was 
here, he was here; and one of the good 
sides of it, he said, was that we could re- 
sume our friendship. 

After bitching was security. “Do you 


think,” he asked, “that your group or you 
yourself are under surveillance?" I threw 
up my hands. He said, "We should be 
taking more precautions." 

By that time, we were settled, drinks in 
hand, and he could begin his main moves. 

First, he said with itement, the idea 
of my taking a long trip to the Soviet Un- 
ion had been officially approved. "The 
ticket would be provided and my expenses 
taken care of Definitely Не seemed 
pleased. I believe I seemed pleased. 

Second, how would I like a front-row 
seat at the Moscow Olympics of 1980? 
Then, after the Olympics, I could travel 
for two or three months in the Soviet Un- 
ion. I could spend the last two weeks of my 
stay in Moscow as Andrey's guest, vodka 
and ladies the main agenda items. 

"Then he asked me what it would cost me 
to get to the restaurant and back and could 
he please reimburse me, since it was for his 
benefit that we had met in Arlington. 
What was it, a buck or so for the Metro? 
Maybe six bucks Юг a cab ride back? “It is 
my fault," he said casually, reaching for 
his wallet, “for making you come so far. 
Let me repay you for these expenses." 

I cheerfully declined. 

Stassinos said, when we met the next 
day, that I was silly not to have taken the 
money. “For once, Andy's right. He made 
you go a long way out of your way to meet 
with him where he wanted to mect. He 
cost you a little pocket change. It would've 
been reasonable for you to take his dough. 
That's what he was playing for. That's 
why he had you go way the hell to meet 
him— just so it would be so reasonable for 
you to take his dough. That's exactly what 
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taking money from him. It’s part of the 
recruitment process.” 

Stassinos had met me at the Capital 
South Metro station. "You've changed 
your appearance,” he said as he came on 
foot up First Street, noticing that I had 
had my annual haircut since Га seen him 
last. We walked a block to his big green 
Buick. “Our friend prowls this part of the 
Hill,” he said, “so we'll get out of here.” 

There was a new man this time, waiting 
for us in the car. Much older than Stas: 
nos and (so Stassinos said) an expert 
analyst in the Soviet-embassy section of 
the FBI's counterintelligence group, Elmer 
Rawls was a large man with a massive, 
bald head and a pale, gloomy face etched 
all over with little lines. He said little as we 
drove to a restaurant in Foggy Bottom 
named The Pagoda. He sipped once or 
twice at a black coffee while I told my story 
and answered Stassinos’ questions— 
about Andrey’s carly return, his news 
about my trip to the Olympics, his eager- 
ness t0 put money in my hand 

Finally, Rawls cleared his throat. Stassi- 
nos and I both turned to him right away, a 
sign that his antlers were bigger than ours. 
Rawlss voice was a quiet rumble and 
there was a schoolmasterish clip to his 
words. He carefully folded, unfolded and 
refolded his napkin as he talked. 

“We definitely believe Suvorov is ап 
agent of the K.G.B.” he said. "He is 
young, of course, and relatively іпехре 
enced. But he's pretty good. He's got a 
tle flair. He seems to be gutsy. He's very 
good at shaking a tail in a car. He's 
apparently made a mistake in judgment 
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several other people who are not talking to 
us. Stass could tell you this as well as I. 
Гуе come along especially to say that the 
information you've given us is helpful, and 
though there's nothing we can do in 
return, we hope you'll continue іп this 
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“You mean, „go to Russia as a guest of 
the Revolution?’ 

"Of course, it’s your own decision.” 

1 agreed with him about that and sug- 
gested we wait and see what happened. 


. 
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Andrey outside the Rive Gauche in 
Georgetown for drinks. He was his usual 
ten minutes late. Не came striding up the 
street in a three-piece pinstripe suit and 
said we must go to another place. We 
wound up at a bar called Mitchell's. 

He put it up front that he had already 
had a few drinks. It was his birthday. Не 
was 32. Maric had fixed a little something, 
so he could stay only a few minutes. 

“But” —and here he put his clbows on 
the table, came in closer, put a serious 
frown on his face and looked slowly to one 
side and then to the other—"I am very 
glad that you see me tonight. I have de- 
cided that I am going to write a maga- 
zine article for publication in the Soviet 


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Union—in some magazine, I don’t know 
which one—to go through the Kennedy 
assassination, you see, especially about 
Yuri Nosenko.” He wanted anything I 
could give him on Nosenko, and he wanted 
it fast. Could I please meet him tomorrow 
with the requested documents? 

“Well,” I said, “but I have a ticket to go 
to Boston tomorrow.” 

His jaw dropped a foot and his checks 
had a mottled, stung blush. He looked 
away for a second, then, collecting himself, 
back at mc. Hc badly needed the Nosenko 
documents so that hc could begin his arti- 
cle. Could I stay in D.C. long enough to 
supply him with the papers he needed? 

“T leave early in the morning.” 

He looked at me. “Tomorrow?” 

“Аи matin,” I said. “Early.” 

“Yes,” he said. “I understand.” 

I think he was at that moment a little 
tired of me. He gave a despairing shrug. 
Consolingly, 1 s Why do you need the. 
stuff so fast? ГЇЇ be back in a week." 

"Do you understand. the mag: 
they give me a deadline." 

“T thought you said you didn't know yet 
which magazine this was for." 

“It is very complicates 
short, mirthless chuckle. 
to explain." 

“Well, look," I said. “Maybe I сап get 
on a later flight.” I knew for a fact that I 
could. And it didn't matter when I got to 
Boston, anyway. The A.LB. files had the 
documents he absolutely had to have in 
order to get up to speed оп Nosenko. The 
only problem would be to copy them. 

Andrey's relief was a thing to behold. 
But he cut the celebration short with а 
panicky look at his watch. Не gulped his 
drink and stood up. Would I please meet 
him tomorrow night at nine at the Saigon 
Inn, well beyond the Metro lines in Falls 
Church, Virginia? He was sorry he once 
again had to ask me to go so far, but it was 
safer this way, and I would just have to 
take a cab and let him reimburse me. 

“Please?” 

“оқ” 

By that time, we жеге crossing the 
street. As we waited between two parked 
cars, I felt his hand take mine and close 
my fingers around a small wad of paper. 
Still looking away from me up the strcet, 
he said, “You must allow me. Just to pay 
your cab fare. It is nothing.” 

At least that much was the truth. I met 
briefly with Stassinos the next day so the 
FBI could copy the documents I had 
pulled for Suvorov. On the drive to his 
office, I showed him what Suvoroy had 
given me—four bucks 

“My first trick,” I said. 

Stassinos laughed and said, “Be glad it’s 
for your country. 

At nine sharp that night, for my coun- 
try, I stepped out of a cab at the Saigon 
Inn in Falls Church. When the cab had 
disappeared and the vast, darkened park- 
ing lot had been still for a few moments, I 


zine, 


210 heard the click of Andrey’s heels, and then 


there he was, and he took my hand warmly 
and said how much he appreciated this. 
He wouldn’t forget it. 

Ав soon as we were seated in the dark, 
almost empty restaurant, he said, “So? 
Were you able to find documents for me?” 

“Have I got some red-hot docs for you, 
my friend!” I said and reached into my 
tote bag for the neatly taped-up manila 
envelope I'd brought for him. 

“No, no!” he whispered sharply, re- 
straining my hand and giving the room a 
quick check. “Not here! Later!” 

He held himself stiffly a moment; then, 
satisfied that no one had caught my blun- 
der, he relaxed and smiled one-sidedly. He 
said with hooded eyes, “There are simple 
precautions, you understand, that should 
become a habit for us. We do not want to. 
be photographed trading things, you see. 
So we do not do such things as these їп 
public places.” 

“You know there's nothing classified in 
these documents,” I said, half wondering if 
he did actually know that. 

“Yes, but you can see how it might be 
manipulated by a liar with a camera,” 
he said. “I feel harassed all the time,” he 
said, drawing on a cigarette. “You don’t 
know! They think I am a spy! The FBI 
says Тат K.G.B.! Can you believe it?” 

Isn't it just part of the duty tour? 
said. “Weren’t you prepared for 
“Listen to me,” he said. “I am simple 
ind of guy. I love my country, I love my 
people, I love my wife. I worry about when 
we can have babies, not about American 
ilitary secrets or something like that. 
They treat us both like we are spies. Th 
follow Marie wherever she goes, I'm tell- 
ing you, such thing would not happen in 


He smiled, reminding himself of a hap- 
pier subject, and stopped to tell me that 
the details of my trip were being worked 
outand that I would probably hear some- 
thing next month. But 1 thought he was 
not just pretending to be upset. His Eng- 
lish got bad. He picked at his meal and fre- 
quently cast his eyes around the room. 
Then, all at once, he put his napkin on the 
table and took out his wallet. 

“I am terribly sorry,” he s; 
must leave at once.” 

“Really?” I said. Га been savoring the 
spicy beef and had half my plate to go. 

“Please come,” he said quietly, with a 
little smile but with eyes that said move. 
He tossed a generous amount of mone 
onto the table and pushed back his chai 
He already had his coat on while I was still 
trying to wash down one last morsel. 

As soon as we reached the darkness of 
the parking lot, he said to me, “Please. 1 
am going to drive you back to Washington. 
‘To DuPont Circle, OK? But once we are 
inside the car, you understand, please do 
not speak anything. OK? Perfect silence, 
you see?” I nodded. He continued, “When 
we are in the car, you will please simply 
leave the package of documents on the seat. 
And the envelope that I put on the seat, 


you see, you must pick that one up. OK? 
Апа putit right away in your pocket. OK?” 

His car looked like the most bare-boı 
Ford you could buy, but the motor jumped 
to life and hummed with great inner 
strength. He switched on the radio and 
turned it up loud. It was tuned to a coun- 
try-and-western station that happened to 
be on a Hank Williams kick. In the dark- 
ness of the car, locked іп my little vow of 
silence as we slipped back into Washing- 
ton, I could fondle my enyelope of the 
people’s rubles while listening to Your 
Cheatin’ Heart. 

Stassinos was impressed the next morn- 
ing at breakfast in a downtown diner when 
I showed him and Rawls the crisp new 20 
Andy had given me. “Big bucks!” he said. 
“That's a 500 percent increase over your 
first payoff! Hell, the next time you could 
be looking at three figures! Not bad! This 
guy’s really hot for you!” 
hey were impressed most of all that 
Suvorov had trusted me inside his саг. 
Along with the passing of money for favors 
and the adopting of low-level security 
measures, that relative confidence was, 
they thought, another step in the К.С.В. 
recruitment process 

Rawls said he thought we were now well 
launched into deep water. “They think 
they've got their hands on a usable person 
here. They don’t find that many.” 

"Why would the K.G.B. be so in- 
terested іп те?” 

“Why not?” said Stassinos. “They know 
your record, Count on it, the K.G.B. has a 
bigger file on you than we have. 

But I couldn't believe биуогоу had gone 
to that party looking for me in particular. 

“You're right.” said Stassi “Andy 
went to a fishing hole and he got a nibble 
out of you, and then he went back to his 
computer and found out that you were a 
pretty good fish.” 

“Are you trying to swell my head?” 

"Em calling you a fish.” 

Rawls had been looking me over intent- 
ly through this exchange. Now he said, 
“Would you go to the Soviet Union as 
Suvorov's guest?” 

“I'm not burning to. If you thought it 
would be useful, Ға think about it.” 

Rawls looked at Stassinos and said, 
“Maybe we should get more aggressive 
with Andrey.” 

“Like how?" I said. 

“For a start, we might find some more 
Nosenko documents to his liking.” 

He asked me when Pd be back from 
Boston. I said in a week. He said hı id 
Stassinos would spend some time thinking 
and that we'd talk more when I got back. 

. 

The House Select Committee's revision 
yet again of Nosenko's bona fides had im- 
plications equally significant for the 
K.G.B. and thc FBI. Each side would 
finally realize that. Yet, at first, neither 
Andy nor Stass would listen to me when 1 
blathered about it. Why not? Because both 
accepted the shared consensus of their 


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institutions that the Kennedy assassina- 
tion, politically speaking, was insignif- 
icant. They both believed that addicts of 
Dallas conspiracy theories were mere 
eccentrics. Both Stassinos and Suvorov 
had а use for me, but at first neither one 
could believe me— no matter how I said 
what I had to say. The question in my 
mind then was whether it would be Andy 
or Stass who caught on first. Мом, with 
Andy's announced intention to do a maga- 
zine article on Nosenko, it was obvious 
that he was firmly on course. He would 
read the history of Nosenko's treatment 
within the CIA since 1964 and, being a 
bright person, he would see that the issue 
with Nosenko was no longer the status of 
Oswald but, rather, the integrity of U.S. 
intelligence agencies against Soviet 
penetration efforts. If Nosenko were a 
mole, then what about that other defector, 
the good and trusted one—code named 
Fedora—in whom thc FBI of Hoover and 
beyond had placed its trust since the early 
Sixties? If Fedora were a mole, then the 
FBI had been led around by the nose by 
Soviet intelligence for about 16 ycars. 

At our next meeting, Andrey had re- 
served us a front-row table for belly-dance 
night at the Greek Islands Taverna on 
Pennsylvania Avenue, a few blocks from 
the White House. He was in an exuberant 
mood. The dancers were gorgeous. The 
Greek salad was the best ever. We did in 
several bottles of retsina. He cut off my fee- 
ble efforts, tossed out between dancers or 
courses or bottles, to start what I supposed. 
to be the mandatory political conversa- 
tion. We staggered down the steps several 
hours after we had bounded up them with- 
out having said anything of substance ex- 
cept that he and Marie had just about 
decided to go ahead and have a kid and 
let the Devil worry about и. 

But the merriment ceased as soon as we 
found the shadows of the side street where 
his car was parked. Now he straightened 
up, stopped weaving and slurring his 
speech. 

We were walking slowly. Washington 
сап be warm in November. He said, “Тһе 
information you have given me.” 

“Yeah?” I said, still into the drunken- 
buddy mood. 

“It is very helpful, you know.” 

I looked at him. He was looking at me. I 
felt myself straighten. “Dm glad to hear 
it,” I said. “I hope your article is coming 
along well.” 

“It is not exactly an article.” 

“Oh, no?” 

“Tt is more like what you would call a 
paper. An academic paper.” 

“Very good, Andy. I'm proud of you. 
You're actually going to deliver a paper?” 

“Yes,” he said, quite pleased. “And all 
because of you, my friend!” 

“At an academic conference?” 

“Well,” he said, pulling a bit ofa smirk 
and hooding his eyes, “perhaps academic 

(continued on page 214) 


е By ROBERT CAROLA поко ЕГА, 


glish in which words become delightfully self-descriptive 


m "oou 


МЕ 
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seuclo-intellectual . 


PLAYBOY 


214 


is not correct. It will be in Armenia.” 
"Oh? Soon?” 


You can lose your wallet, (ЕСІ ы 

n cited. Also, I am very excited. It às our 
But you can't lose your een 
Uncle Henry. 


will spend two weeks there before going to 
Moscow. Ar the ski resort, you see, I will 
give a paper about Mr. Yuri Nosenko.” 

“Toa group of scholars on skis?" 

“Well, you could say it will be a group of 
about 30 very sophisticated people.” 

“Very sophisticated?” 

“Yes. And so I must ask you once ag: 
my friend, for more help, so that I will do a 
good job in Armenia and not play the fool 
out of myself.” 

“Hey,” I said, “anything you need.” 

“Yes! OK! Hey!” he said with a laugh. 
He was happily excited. “Now! Do you 
have any more documents about Nosenko 
that you have not yet given me?” 

“Not primary documents but side stuff. 
with a few odd details. Maybe a few 
pieces. I'd have to go through our index.” 

“Could you? Please? You know, I 
pay for your expenses and your trouble.” 

“No problem.” 

“Now. Could you introduce me to your 
friends on the Select Committee?” 

Compute it. Га have to tell them, too, 


The classic Stockman 
is the perfect helper for 
G thousand and one jobs. Guaran- 
teed against loss for one year from date 
about the FBI. “I might see what can be 


of registration. 
Uncle Henry also offers U \ 
а selection of pocket knives with Enid 
one andtwo blades. в 
arranged,” I said, killin, 


Write for your tree Shrade Almanac to Schrade Cutlery Corp.. Ellenville, N.Y. 12428-0590. “Good. Now. Also. What can you give 
me to read about these two other people, 
Fedora and Stone?" 

That cinched it. Andrey had grasped 


On helf ! the meaning of Nosenko's current plight. 
° The ARE There wasn’t much I could give him on 
Stone or Fedora—some book references, 


some obscure articles we happened to have 
Col E appen 


in the A.L B. files. The main thing, to me, 
from 
549° 


was that Andrey was alrcady asking for 
this stuff to present it to 30 “sophisticated” 
people in Armenia while I was still trying 
to get Stassinos to concede that 1 might 
have a point, 

Andrey and I agreed to meet in two 
days at the Independence Avenue entrance 
of the Hirshhorn museum. The day before 
that, І saw Stassinos for a few minutes to 
pick up the documents the FBI had found 
for Andy and to tell him of Andy's surging 
interest іп Nosenko. The documents were 
uncensored FBI reports on Nosenko from 


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and pump adapter included. H and then, under a gigantic space frame, he 

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earthtone velveteen Air Coll Bed. i stood at arm’s length and asked for the 
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Then he put the documents back in the 
package, nodding his head in evident 


approval of what һе had seen. And when 
that was done (as I stood mesmerized by 
the display, which systematically flouted 
every little trick of spycraft I thought he'd 
been trying to teach me), he reached inside 
his breast pocket and produced an ordi- 
nary white envelope, business size. He 
held it out before him like an m.c. on a 
game show, opened its Нар, withdrew two 
$20 bills, looked at me with a smile, ге- 
turned the bills to the envelope and hand- 
ed the envelope to me. 1 shut my mouth in 
time to take it and say, “You're very kind. 
I see we have new security procedures.” 

He laughed. “Can you meet me here 
again in a month with the new documents 
you mentioned?” 

“No problem. I mean, it is a problem, 
but it is nol a problem.” So we set up for 
three o’clock at the Hirshhorn again, De- 
cember 14, 1978. 

One month later, minus a day, I met 
Stassinos briefly to pick up the new FBI 
reports that he and Rawls had found for 
Andy. Late that night, Jeff and I were at 
the A.L.B. office, trying to get our newslet- 
ter out. Jeff finished his chores first and sat 
back to check out this latest FBI package. 
I was dimly aware that he was leafing 
through the pages; and then he stood up, 
scratched his balding head and shot me а 
heavy look. I tried not to notice, but then I 
said irritably, “Jeff, please. I'm trying to 
do this intro. What is it?” 

“Did you look at this?" he said in a soft 
but ultimately defiant voice. 

“What?” I said. “You saw me just get 
back here, same time as you.” 

"Well," he said, “соте and look at it.” 

I sighed my best deliver-me-from- 
nonsense sigh and went over to the table 
where he had laid out the four documents 
that Stassinos had given to me earlier. 

“Look at those,” Jef said. 

I looked. 

“Don't you sec anything weird?” 

They were uncensored versions of four 
FBI documents that the FBI had previous- 
ly released in censored form, each spread 
out fanwise. I saw nothing weird. 

“Don't read it,” he said, “look at i 

He was right. As soon as you looked at, 
rather than read, the pages spread out be- 
fore you, you saw that each of the four tide 
pages differed from all the other pages in 
bearing a light-gray copying mark, or 
blemish, in the shape of a childishly drawn 
cloud. Of the some 150 pages, only the four 
title pages had that mark. It was different- 
ly placed on each one 

Jef said, “I’m sitting here thinking the 
ЕБІ could afford a better copier than this 
and I'm casually leafing ahead to find 
something else to sneer about; and sud- 
denly, I realize that the rest of this copying 
is really clean. And just by coincidence, 1 
suppose, each one of those pages happens 
to be the top page. You see what 1 mean?" 

“Tell me what you mean,” I said with- 
out irony. 

“What I’m saying,” said Jeff, “is what is 
this? Is this a way to identify a document 


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and follow its circulation through a dis- 
tribution network? Is it a way to see who 
Andy's plugged into?” 

I spent the balance of the night in fitful, 
deflated meditation, chagrined to think 
that I had managed both to be made a fool 
of and to be put in obscure jeopardy. I was 
annoyed—metaphysically, transcenden- 
tally annoyed—at the people at Buzzard's 
Point. I felt that I had played out my 
string with Stass and Andy alike, to no 
one’s edification, least of all my own, 

So I stalked to the office early the next 
morning in a cold, drizzly mood. Before 
coffee, I called the airlines for a seat to 
Boston that day, getting, by chance, a 
flight that left at the precise moment at 
which I was to have met Andrey at the 
Hirshhom. Nice, I thought. Then I called 
the FBI, wanting to chew Stassinos out 
and hoping even within my cold, clammy 
anger for a few seconds of sunshine with 
Jeannie. Instead, I got a gruff young man 
who told me that Mr. Stassinos was not 
available, What a bring down. “Please tell 
Stassinos,” I said, “that he plays crummy 
games. Tell him that I left town and stood 
up our friend. Tell him that he will answer 
to heaven for his sins. Now say it all back 
to me.” The guy got it in one, gruff voice 
and all. “Thanks, soldier,” I said, feeling 
free and real, and rang off to head for Bos- 
ton, wondering, like a happy fugitive, how 
many had been hired to watch me not 
show up at the Hirshhorn 


. 

But, finally, I could see no reason why 
the FBI should want to cashier me to the 
K.G.B. I decided that if the FBI had 
handed me documents capable of arousing 
the K.G.B.s suspicions, it must have been 
through clumsiness, not malice 

So I had already made up my mind to 
go back to the thing if Andrey should 
phone again, And on the tenth of February 
1979, a Saturday, a bit less than two 
months after Id stood him up and four 
days short of the anniversary of our first 


meeting, he did. He thought we should 
celebrate our anniversary, he said. He 
mentioned nothing about the aborted 
Hirshhorn date. 

So now I had to talk with Stassinos. I 
still had the four FBI documents with the 
interesting cover pages that he had given 
me for Andrey in December. The issue had 
to be confronted and straightened out, be- 
cause if I had to lie to both sides, then what 
did I think I was doing and for whom did I 
think I was doing it? 

Siassinos met me the next day at Mr. 
Eagen's. It was not one of cur nicer ses- 
sions, I more or less slapped the offending 
documents down on the table in front of 
п and demanded to 
could be so unprofessional. He rejoined 
that I had a vivid imagination and was al- 
ways seeing plots. My answer was that he 
had no imagination at all and couldn't see 
if it advertised in The Wall 


now 


Street Journal. 

He scooped up the documents from the 
table and said, “Look, I can see what your 
problem is with these blips. I promise you 
ГЇЇ look into it. And we'll get new title 
pages. ОК?” 

He rapped the papers endwise on the 
table to give his final utterance on the sub- 
ject a bit of a thump. Inadvertenily—he 
was, after all, in the act of confessing past 
problems, and for him to have knowingly 
risked a new problem at that very moment 
implied a level of perversity of which 1 
thought him incapable—inadvertently, 1 
assumed at the time, he had scooped up 
my notebook along with the documents. 1 
reached for it as he was about to shovel it 
into his attaché case. “Hey, my notebook!” 

It fell open on the floor. “Sorry about 
that,” said Stass. He bent quickly to ге- 
trieve it. I flashed on Andy going after his 
last cigarette. “Ha!” said Stass, “I sce you 
can spell my name!” He scanned the open 
page quickly. 

“OK, fella, hand it over,” I said, giv 


“Let's talk turkey.” 


what I meant to sound like a friendly 
order. I lifted it out of his hands. He was 
smiling in amused disbelief. 

9 does that ро?” he said. 
ginning, what else?” I said. 
“Why? Didn't you yourself tell me it was a 
good idea?” 

“To keep notes on Andrey, yes.” 

“For me, it was the whole thing. 

“You've kept notes on me, too?” 

“Why not? Haven't you kept notes on 
me?” I smiled. 

He paused. He rubbed his nose. “You 
probably shouldn’t do that.” 

“Why not?” 

“Why would you want to have notes on 
те?” he said. 

“Because you're a colorful character.” 

“You going to write this shit up? 

“Maybe someday You want to play 
yourself in the movi 

He gave me a level look. “Well, as you 
know, you're on your own here. I can't 
stop you. But if youre just in this for the 
Story you can get out of it, I have to say 
you're making me look like a pretty piss- 
poor judge of character.” 

“You and Andy both, right? He thought 
I would buy into Stalinism for the sake of 
the Revolution. And you thought I had no 
personal viewpoint. You're a fine pair of 
lads. A little poker game together would be 
a lot of fun. But let me put your mind at 
case about it. I'm not doing this thing with 
you and Andy because I’m trying to make 
out. I'm doing it because I'm trying to 
make a point.” 

“And what is that point?” 

І gave him a level look. “I'll tell you 
when I find ont.” 

1 met Stass the next day to pick up the 
recopied documents and sat in his car at a 
bus stop just long enough to check out the 
new title pages. They seemed OK, but I 
took them back to my office to run them 
past Jef. He looked, compared, held the 
new pages up beside the old pages and 
nodded 


e. 

Andrey was at our rendezvous ahead of 
me for the first time ever, even though 
I was my usual five minutes early. Hc in- 
tercepted me two blocks from the meeting 
point—again we were in Arlington—and 
led me to a different restaurant, O'Car- 
roll’s, a seafood place. 

His return to Europe had done him 
good. I never saw him so jaunty. He was 
wearing a shaggy scarf and heavy leather. 
gloves and a tan British driving cap and a 
decp-brown jacket over a maroon tui 
tleneck and a new pair of prefaded Le: 
jeans. It was a cold day, but, unlike the 
numbing drench of the Valentine's Day of 
a year before, today we had bright sun. 
Andrey’s cheeks were rosy and his eyes 
twinkled against bright piles of new snow. 

His report to the sophisticated group of 
30 at the Armenian ski resort could not 
possibly have been better received, he said. 
He would have use for any documents 


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or other information on Nosenko and 
related characters that I might come 
across in the future, always with the 
understanding that his government would 
cover my costs. He even had a list of par- 
ticular items he wanted to see. The list in- 
cluded everything I had mentioned before 
ОҒ апу passing relevance to the Nosenko 
bona fides controversy. 

“You're in luck,” I said, leaning toward 
him and lowering my voice. “Resting 
against the leg of my chair is a package of 
documents that I had ready for you back 
in December when last-minute changes 
forced me to miss our date. Those docu- 
ments apply to your interest in Nosenko. 
They are uncensored FBI file reports 
available to me through my contacts on 
the staff of the Select Committee.” 

I could see concealed ecstasy in his eyes. 

“Your trip to the Soviet Union,” he 
said, “is now totally approved. I personal- 
ly, when I was in Moscow last month, 
have seen the required signatures on all 
the papers. You will have a big seat at the 
Olympics. You will be the guest of my gov- 
ernment. And when the games are over, 
we will take you on a trip all over our 
country, two or three months if you like, 
whatever is best thing for you. OK? Then 
you come to Moscow. I will be in Moscow 
then, too. Marie and I will show you a 
Russian Moscow,” he said proudly, bring- 
ing out his baritone voice. How young he 
seemed then. How much more exuberant 
and naive than Stassinos. You wanted it 
not to be the Cold War. 

. 

That took us into a period about two 
months long, rather like a cruise phase, in 
which our dinners меге гошіпе almost to 
the point of formal design. I would arrive 
five minutes carly. He would arrive ten 
minutes late. Sometimes, by car, he would 
take me to a restaurant other than the опе 
at which we met. I would never say a word. 
inside his car, and always he had loud 
C&W music on the radio. Once we were 
settled at our drinks—he never drank vod- 
ka—he would tell me about some new 
praise he had won for his Nosenko work. 1 
would dole out another document or two, 
all in the most secretive possible manner 
(he never repeated his strange perform- 
ance at the Hirshhorn). There would be an 
envelope by the napkin or on the car seat 
with one or two 205--пеуег more. There 
would be some new reassurance about ту 
Olympics trip, some new laugh about the 
drunken, womanizing good time we were 
going to have in Moscow. 

Two events from that otherwise smooth 
period were precursors of the ending of it 
all, which would first trickle and then 
flood. Both involved Stassinos. 

The next time he picked me up for the 
usual debriefing with coffee, Stass drove us 
into the suburbs and picked an instant- 
burger joint in the mostly empty parking 
lot of an immense shopping mall He 
parked his car—the dirty green Buick with 


218 а ride like a water bed—far from the res- 


taurant and far from any other cars. Не 
locked up, then opened the lid of the trunk 
and tossed his topcoat and attaché сазе in- 
side. “Why don't we just grab a bite first,” 
he said, “then come back to the car to go 
over your notes? That way, we don't get 
mustard on things. OR?” 

“биге,” І said and tossed my topcoat in 
beside his 

“You can leave your notebook, too. It'll 
be safe. Come on, I'll spring for deluxe. 
We'll do business later.” 

“What if the Russians come and steal 
your car?" I laughed. 

"Suit yourself" he said. He slammed 
the trunk lid down sharply, as though 
miffed at me for tittering at his little trick. 

"That incident made me resolve to find a 
secure place for my notebook. It had been 
my habit till then to leave it openly about, 
usually on a corner of my desk or in an un- 
locked drawer. It was no secret from Jeff. 
Хо one else was ever in the office without 
one of us also being there. Who needed 
more security than that? But now I de- 
cided that I did. I wanted the notebook 
handy, because I often jotted in it. So I 
taped a label on the front reading MEDICAL 
EVIDENCE IN THE ROBERT KENNEDY CASE and 
put the notebook with three others exactly 
like it, also filled with scribblings of mine 
but on matters completely unrelated to 
Stass and Andy, into an oversize mani 
envelope, identical to seven others, simi- 
larly stuffed. АШ eight envelopes were 
marked au». DRAFTS, and each had а 
volume number. My notebook was in 
volume six. The entire series was in the 
second drawer down of the fourth of five 
four-drawer filing cabinets that stood 
along one wall. The office overflowed with 
papers and folders and envelopes in some- 
times towering stacks. The security of my 
secret notebook was that of the needle in 
the haystack. 

The other thing that happened then, 
and gave the quality of the encounter a 
strange turn, came near the end of this 
cruise phase, in late March 1979. I had 
met with Suvorov the day before: a few 
more documents of ever more questionable 
use to him, a few more rubles for me, a few 
more huzzas to the magnificent feast 
awaiting us in the motherland. Now I was 
in the back seat of the cushy green Buick, 
going over my notes. Stass was in the front 
passenger seat, scribbling in his steno pad 
with a 29-cent ballpoint pen. Behind the 
wheel was the young man I knew only as 
Dave, large, square-shouldered and clean- 
cut, who had carried the documents in and 
out that day at Buzzard’s Point when the 
FBI had done its first bit of copying for me. 

Presently, Stass complained to Dave 
that taking notes in a moving car was no 
fun. Could we pull off the beltway and 
park someplace? 

Dave found a turnoff into a huge shop- 
ping mall and was smoothly pulling the 
overpowered Buick into an empty part of 
the lot when, suddenly, under his breath, 
he said, “Jesus Christ, will you look at 


that!” There was urgency in it. Because I 
was sitting directly behind him, I couldn't 
see what he was looking at. 

“I don’t fucking believe it!” said Stassi- 
nos. “Сет the fuck out of here!” 

Dave did as he was told. He had been 
introduced to me аз а former jet pilot. Now 
he seemed to kick in the afterburner and 
lay the big, sloppy bomber of a car way 
over оп its side and then power out of the 
threatened fishtail with a straight, full- 
throttle shot up the on ramp into an open 
patch in the expressway traffic. 

Stassinos looked at me and laughed. He 
said, “Hey, my friend, that was close?” 

“What?” I said. “What's happening?” 

“Can you believe that it was hes car back 
there? In the parking lot?” 

“His?” 

“Our friend’s.” 

I suppose I gaped. “You mean you just 
saw Andy’s car?” 

Dave said, “You got it. I almost parked 
by it.” 

“Did you sce him?” I said. 

“No,” Stassinos said, then asked Dave, 
“Did you?” 

“I didn’t see him," Dave said, “but I 
saw his car. I read his plate.” He had by 
now got us up to altitude and back down 
to cruising speed. 

“They never come out here,” Stass said. 

“T see,” I said. 

"But you know,” he said, turning to 
Dave, “the Russians are inveterate shop- 
pers. They're crazy about big sales. We 
could go back there—not that were 
gonna—and find а sale of flat goods or 
something, I guarantee.” Stass looked 
pretty satisfied with that explanation. 

He had his mouth open and his hand 
moving to say something else on the same 
theme when, as abruptly as before but now 
а lot louder, Dave cried, “Му God! God 
damn it!” He quickly yawed the heavy 
Buick in behind the diesel rig we had been 
just about to pass. An exit came right up 
and Dave had us onit in a split second. “It 
was another Soviet car!” he said, jerking 
his thumb back toward the beltway. 

“No shit,” said Stass quietly, shaking 
his head. 

Said I with honest wonder, “There sure 
are а lot of Russians around here.” 

“Sec?” Stass said with a surge of feeling. 
“They cut our funds, cut back our capa- 
bilities, and next thing you know, you're 
finding these people all over the place. 
There’s just no way to tell now where 
you're not gonna run into these people.” 

І said, “Would they recognize our cars 
as well as our people recognize their cars? 
Could we have been spotted on the belt- 
way by Marx and Engels fans?” 

“My friend,” said Stassinos with a dark 
little laugh, “you will never have a way of 
knowing that.” 

“We have no way to know what they 
know?” 

“The trouble with the fucking Rus- 
sians,” said Stassinos, suddenly a touch 
angry again and looking away from me, 


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“is that they аге so much like us fucking 
Americans that we could wipe each other's 
asses and never know the diflerence. It's 
what makes all this so unpredictable.” 

It was Jeff's suspicion, when 1 filled him 
in on it, that the entire run-in with the 
“Soviet cars” might have been staged for 
my benefit. But neither of us could im- 
agine what the Feds might have been 
trying to prove. 

. 

Му last dinner with Andrey was on a 
Saturday in mid-April 1979, at Le Jardin, 
a pleasant, leafy place near Washington 
Circle, where he had the boeuf Robes- 
pierre and I the swordfish Danton. If he or 
his shopping companions had seen us on 
the beltway, he gave no sign ofit. The only 
thing different, I thought, was that I was 
at the bottom of my Nosenko barrel and he 
was beginning to murmur polite dis- 
appointment with the quality of the most 
recent contributions. 

"I will call you in a month,” 
cheerfully. 

I said, “F look forward to it,” also cheer- 
fully. There was so little to report to Stassi- 
nos that I handled it by phone. 

The adventure scemed to be settling of 
itself. In two more weeks, the bottom 
dropped out. 

I went to the office carly that morr 
because I wanted to add a few lines to the 
notebook. I opened the second drawer of 
the fourth file and pulled out the envelope 
marked ALB. DRAFTS, VoL. 6, noticing right 
away that the envelope was too loose. In- 
side were three notebooks instead of four. 
‘The one I wanted, naturally—the Stass- 
and-Andy book—was the missing one. 

Му first thought, facing si a void, is 
generally of the form Where could I have 
put it? Gradually, a more frenzied attitude 
evolves. Over and over in the next three 
days, I retraced my steps back to the last 
time I could remember having the book in 
my hand. 1 searched all the other places 
I had been. I looked in all the other 
envelopes in the drawer, in all the other 
drawers, in all the other filing cabinets, 
in and on and under my desk and Jcff's, 
everywhere, over and over. I could not 
convince myself that I had simply mis- 
laid it. It was always too much on my 
mind for that. By the end of day three, I 
was sold on the thought that someone had 
taken it. 

I could see only three suspects. Of the 
three, Suvorov would have the most to 
learn from the book but could have only 
general reasons to think it might exist. He 
had never seen it or heard me talk about it. 
Jeff was a theoretical suspect, but he said 
he hadn't done it, and | believed him. 

"That cut the list down to Stass and com- 
pany. Since Stass first realized he was in 
my little book, he had been obsessive and 
negative about it. He didn’t know where I 
kept it at the office, but he knew what it 
looked like. How simple for a confede 
of his to sce me go into my office carrying 
and come out later not carrying it. 


he said 


But I knew what Stass would say. My 
paranoia was acting up because I had lost 
the notebook. And losing it was better, 
anyway; why did I need it? Good rid- 
dance, he would say. 

Even so, I decided to tell him that the 
thing was gone and seemed stolen, since 
his was the only FBI in town. I had 
already picked up the phone when 1 
thought, for form’s sake, that I should 
make one more basic tour through the now 
ritualized stations of my search, starting 
with the place where the notebook should 
have been—envelope six, drawer two, 
cabinet four. That was so I could convinc- 
ingly say to Stass's challenge that, yes, I 
had just looked again and it was gone. 

But then there it was, just where it was 
supposed to be—one of four spiral-bound 
notebooks neatly filling an envelope 
marked A.B. DRAFTS, VOL. 6, square in the 
middle of drawer two, cabinet four. 

I called Jeff, who was sull back at the 
house. “This thing was missing, was it 
not? You, too, looked in the place where it 
belonged and saw that it was not there?” 
Confirmed by Jeff in those basics, I dialed 
Stassinos with great righteousness: 

‘Jeannie’s angelically simple, unadorned, 
sweetened, morning-sunshiny voice—she 
could eflordessly get all that into “Hi, 
there!””—restored my spirits and made me 
feel lucky. I might have drawn the gruff 
voice. 

“I have to talk to Stass,” I said, * 
should be soon.” 

“He's not at his desk, but he'll be glad 
you called. Can I give him a message?” 

“Just tell him there was a note of de- 
spair in my voice and that I was calling 
from the ledge outside the tenth floor ofthe 
Soviet embassy.” 

She giggled, sunshine sparkling on the 
morning dew. “I believe the Soviet 
embassy is only three stories tall." 

“Then tell him whatever he'll believe. I 
need him.” 

In less than two minutes, Stass rang. 

What’s the matter, big guy?” he said, 
nding concerned 

Nothing physical, but I’ve got a prob- 

lem that just developed and I want to talk 

with you about it.” 

“Be at the drugstore іп a half hour.” 

He pulled up in the Buick. Someone was 
in the back seat. It was Rawls, the large, 
dour man with the massive head who, 
months before, had pronounced Andy a 
spy, not a diplomat, and had put an elder's 
blessing оп Stassinos’ emerging relation- 
ship with me, It would have been a little 
easier with just Stass, but the presence of 
Rawls would make it definitive. 

Stass drove us to a shady spot on a quiet 
street in the embassy section. It was a 
bright morning carly in Мау. 

“Try to believe this,” I said. “Pm sure 
you remember my notebook on Andy and 
you. I know it’s your favorite thing of 
mine. Four days ago, I discovered that it 
was missing from the place where I had 
hidden it. I searched for it everywhere and 


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couldn't find it. Then, this morning, my: 
teriously, I found it back where it be- 
longed. To me, that raises the question, 
Who could be doing this to my notebook? 
It has to be you or the other guy. Let me 
finish. If you're the ones who took it, then. 
it’s a cheap trick, but it doesn't change 
anything, because if you read it, the only 
thing you found out is that I’ve been 
straight with you, even if I have also 
counted the moles on your faces. But if it 
was Andy ora pal of his who took it, then a 
true cat has got out of the bag, and I would 
have to worry about that. Am I wrong?” 

“I can see what you mean,” Stass said. 
solemnly. 

I looked from him to Rawls. Both men 
had their impassive G-man faces on. 1 
think they wondered whether or not I was 
putting a sting on the FBI. So I said, look- 
ing at Rawls, “All right, take it as 
hypothetical. Just suppose things hap- 
pened the way I said. What inferences 
would you draw from such events?” 

Stassinos said quietly, “I don't know 
what to tell you.” 

But I was looking at Rawls, who finally 
said in his deep voice, “Many mysteries in 
life, you know, are never cleared up.” 

“Begging your indulgence, sir,” I said, 
“but very few of them have to be. This one 
is not like that. This is not a mystery that I 
can live with.” 

“Well,” said Rawls, stirring a bit, “if 
this is what you're asking, let me assure 
you that the FBI has not burglarized your 
office, nor would we consider it.” 

Stassinos said, “If it were our job, you 
would never have known i 

I said, “And if Andy did it? 

Stassinos said, “Не doesn't work that 
way." 

"What if he knows somebody who does 
work that way?” 

“You're being hypothetical again.” 

"It's the only way I can get you to talk 
about anything real. Besides, it's not 
hypothetical to me. My mind is clear and. 
settled. This notebook was first there, then 
not there, and then there again, and that 
could not happen by magic. If you insist 
that the borrowing of the notebook was not 
an FBI project, then 1 have to choose опе 
of two nasty explanations. Either you guys 
are lying to me or Andy knows that Гуе 
been talking to you. And I can't accept 
either. Can you sce that?” 

They both nodded gravely. Stassinos 
said, “What if your premise is wrong and 
it was a third party?” 

I said, “You mean as in Army, Navy, 
‚Air Force, Marines?” 

He shrugged. “You could wait and see if 
Andy's behavior changes.” 

“Is that what you would do?” 

"In your place? [ might try li 
another town.” 

“My very sentiments,” ] said. “I’m get- 
ting out. Here's the last batch of your 
pseudo documents back. Andy finds this 
stuff boring, and I can't blame him. Any- 
way, I'm not going to see him again. The 


ing in 


next time he calls, I will give one excuse 
after another.” 

“And your big trip to the Olympics?” 
said Stass. 

“I spit in the milk of my big trip." 

Rawls rumbled and stirred in the back 
seat. “This notebook,” he said. “Is it in 
your possession again?” 

“Who knows?" I said. “Maybe some- 
body stole it again since I’ve been with you 
guys. If not, then, yes, I have it.” 

Said Rawls, “What you have told us 
about Mr. Suvorov this past year has been 
very helpful to us. You have our thanks for 
that cooperation, Your help has been, of 
course, strictly voluntary and uncompen- 
sated, nor have we entered into any kind of 
written or unwritten agreement. If you 
choose now to terminate the arrangement, 
that is your decision entirely and the 
burcau respects your right to do so. We 
will ask, however, that you do continue to 
maintain discretion." 

“Апа that means," said Stass quickly, 
“get rid of that fucking notebool 

“All right,” I said, “bend over. 

He laughed. He knew he shouldn't have 
said it. He had an odd twinkle in his eye. 
Sometimes, I wonder if he said it because 
he sensed that Rawls was about to and һе 
knew that it would be better for те to зау 
no to him than to Rawls. At other times, 
I'm sure Stass thought I made the whole 
thing up. “Look,” I said, “don't worry 
about it. Pm in no hurry to explain you to 
my friends." 

They dropped me where they had 
picked me up. 

1 left D.C. soon to begiri а new job in 
Boston. In mid-July, I went back to 
Washington and found at the office a mes- 
sage to call Jeannie. In melodious harp 
tones, she informed me that Stassinos was 
not at his desk at just that time, but she 
was sure he'd call me back quite soon. The 
entire adventure, I thought while listening 
to Jeannie with the light-brown voice, was 
so I could hear this woman on the tele- 
phone; Jeannie must be the secret heroine 
of this otherwise pointless and disappoint- 
ing Cold War story. “How does the FBI 
dare speak with such a voice” I noted on 
one of the last pages of my notebook. 

July 18, 1979. Stassinos called, wanting 
to meet in an hour. 

We cruised the quiet embassy area. 
He'd been thinking a lot about all that had 
happened, he said. He was sure | meant 
only the best. But that notebook of mine 
was something he wished did not exist. 

“Thad to stick my neck out for you with 
my superiors,” he said, “I hope you don't 
prove me a bad judge of character.” 

“You've said that before,” I said. “I 
couldn't care less that you stuck your neck 
out, which I never asked you to do. And I 
don't understand why you're pretending. 
to sweat this so bad. If I yelled ош the 
whole story from the rooftops tomorrow, 
the only one who'd really be hurt would be 
Andy—provided, that is, that you're right 
about him and he really is а K.G.B. spy. If 


you're wrong, he gets a big laugh and you 
look silly. Where is the great harm in 
either case?” 

“You're telling me you're going to write 
up and publish it?” 
Pm telling you to lighten up. You were 
so sure I could liye with my doubts about 
who stole my notes. OK. You can live with 
yours about what I mean to do with them.” 

He smiled ruefully and stared out the 
car window at the hot, breezy day. 
“Maybe you and me,” he said, “we ought 
to go off somewhere and tie one on.” 

T laughed in surprise. “Your boule or 
mine?” 


ui 


P 

It never happened. That was the last 
time I saw Stass. I talked with him by 
phone once more. I had called in a mes- 
sage, hoping to hear earth chimes again, 
but my luck had run out and I got grufl 
throat instead. Stass returned my call in a 
half hour. 

That was in early August 1979. Jef and 
I had just heard that morning from our 
contact on the Select Committee staff that 
Nosenko had given way and was now 
admitting that he was a mole, that he had 
been lying for all those years about the 
K.G.B. and Oswald. The K.G.B. had 
talked extensively with Oswald. 

“I thought you should be among the 
first to know about this," I told Stass. 

He was quiet. “How sure are you?” 

“I am a hundred percent sure that this 
is what I just heard from somebody whom 
Т believe to be in a position to know. I'm 
sure you'll see the implications." 

I said it not merely to gloat. 1 thought it 
was important for the FBI to think about 
it. Stass seemed bored but thanked me for 
the info and asked if there had been any 
further word from Andy. I told him no and 
repeated the old promises. 

At the end of that year, on December 27, 
1979, the Soviet army invaded Afghani- 
stan, and shortly I became just one of 
many Americans who would not go to the 
Moscow Olympics. The contact Andy 
promised from a Soviet trayel agent never 
happened. 

‘Two years later, in the fall of 1981, two 
respected journalists with independent 
sources inside the FBI, Henry Hurt of 
Readers Digest and George Lardner, Jr., of 
The Washington Post, reported that the 
FBI now believed that Fedora was a mole, 
after all, loyal all along to the Soviet Union 
and the K.G.B., while whispering sweet 
nothings into Hoover's ear. | wondered 
whether or not Stassinos or Rawls—or 
Suvoroy—would remember our conversa- 
tions when they reflected on that news. 

My little improvised gesture of patriot- 
ism, by sheerest coincidence, might thus 
have had a small, practical effect on the 
much larger story of the search for the 
putative mole in the U.S. intelligence sys- 
tem—if the FBI had been able to take 
seriously a word I said. That it could not 
is, to me, a great, rich irony—the irony 
that the Cold War has come to be about. 


BLENDED SCOTCH WHISKY, 85.8 PROOF IMPORTED BY SOMERSET IMPORTERS, LTO, NY, Ny, с 1962 


ALL OVER THE WORLD 
PEOPLE HAVE ONE THING IN COMMON. 
THEY START THE EVENING WITH RED. 


JOHNNIE WALKER’RED 


SO SMOOTH, IT'S THE WORLD'S BEST SELLING SCOTCH. 


PLAYBOY 


224 


WOMEN IN WHITE 


(continued from page 88) 


“When I got onto the set, the director stopped те and 


said, Whoa, I want a real nurse. 


э» 


into a former patient when she's off duty. 
“This guy introduced himself at my health 
club—1 didn’t remember him, but he 
remembered me—and we struck up a con- 
versation. But right away, he started tell- 
ing me how he had had a hard time going 
to the bathroom after his surgery; he went 
into all the details. It really turned me off. 
When I'm off duty, I need to forget about 
nursing and relax." 

As for the myth that most of them are 
hoping to marry doctors, nearly all those 
we interviewed scoffed. Natalie Mahaffey, a 
tical nurse in Michi: 


marrying a doctor when they're just out of 
nursing school, but the fantasy rarely lasts 
more than a year. After you've called 
enough doctors at four in the morning or 
while they're on a vacation or while 
they're at a big family picnic and seen 
them drop everything to come to the hos- 
pital, you realize that those guys are more 
devoted to their patients than to their 
families, If you're hoping to marry a man 
who'll be home for dinner, who'll spend 
plenty of time with you and the children, 
you realize that a doctor isn't the best 
possibility.” 


And the last misconception the nurses 
we interviewed would like you to get rid of 
is the idea that most of them are, to use the 
words of Susie Owens, an Oklahoma City 
R.N.,“all ironclad white, submissive, si- 
lent, humorless and sexless. The classic 
question,” she says, “when someone sces 
me away from work with my hair down is 
“Are you really a nurse” ” 

The best example of what we're supposed 
to think nurses should look like comes 
from Maria Baan, a New York R.N. whois 
also an actress (she has had roles in TV’s 
CHiPs and the movie Nighthawks, among 
others). “I had been called by casting for a 
television show called Nurse, Michael 
Learned and Robert Reed. I had originally 
been chosen to play a nurse, but when I 
got onto the set, the director stopped me 
and said, ‘Whoa, wait a minute. 1 want a 
al nurse.’ I said, ‘I am a real nurse” Не 
said I didn't look like a nurse to him, so 
they gave me the part of a woman physi- 
cian. That’s happened to me twice. I've 
started looking at TV very closely to see 
exactly what a nurse ‘should’ look like. 
Most of the women cast aren’t too attrac- 
plain, plump, middle-aged and rather 


“Bear in mind, Mrs. Davis, that you've 
come to me for counseling, not therapy. That means 
I do most of the talking.” 


custodial-locking." We have no doubt that 
this pictorial will debunk forever the myth 
that nurses aren’t attractive. 

So now that you know what nurses are 
not, they want you to know what they are. 
The first thing they are is under stress. If 
there was one theme that was repeated 
often in interviews and the letters we ге- 
ceived from nurses across the country, it 
was that they were under more daily stress 
than most people could endure. 

Margareta Jackson, a licensed vocation- 
al nurse in Texas, speaks for most of her 
peers when she says, “The nursing field 
has suffered and will continue to suffer a 
tremendous rate of attrition until the pay 
and the working conditions of nurses com- 
pensate for the stress we have to endure.” 
Part of the problem, says Jackson, is the 
tension that exists between 
doctors. “In many hospitals 
plains, “the relationships between doctors 
and nurscs haven't changed іп 50 years. 
There is no sense of family, of team." 

Or, as Markham puts it bluntly, “A lot 
of doctors treat nurses like peons. But,” 
she adds, “some of that is beginning to 
change, mainly because women won't put 
up with it anymore.” 

The other stress factor is built into the 
work itself. Sometimes it can be terrifying, 
as Bree Jesser, a California L.V. 
ered: “Once, during my first week on the 
job at a new mental-health center, Ї was 
assigned to guard several patients while 
they went outside for exercise. I was 
teamed with another nurse, but she left to 
go to the washroom, and while she was 
gone, a female patient attacked me. She 
came at me with a flying karate kick, 
knocked me down and then started beat- 
ing on my head. Fortunately, another pa- 
tient ran into the hospital and told a 
nurse’s aide that I was in trouble. He came 
to my rescue. But I had headaches and 
was very depressed for weeks after that.” 

And sometimes the stress comes from 
the constant struggle to confront death 
bravely. Nikki Nickerson, a Florida R.N., 
says, “Тһе most upsetting part of my job is 
when a patient dies on the operating table. 
175 best to cry and not be ashamed to 
share your sadness with the other nurses 
and doctors. That helps you keep going” 

We could go on, but we think by now 
you've gotten the point. These are strong 
and thoughtful women, That they're 
beautiful is almost secondary once you get 
to know them. But the fact is that they are. 
And they don’t mind your knowing it. 

“We work hard and rarely get much rec- 
ognition,” says Montgomery. “I don't 
think this pictorial will hurt the nurse’s im- 
age as long as you let us tell our point of 
view. If you do, I think it could be a nice 
tribute to us. And you know what? We de- 
serve it.” 

Sonya, we couldn’t agree more. 


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НЕН WEATHER: 


(continued from page 99) 


“At Oscar Taylors Phoenix, bartenders combine Scotch 
with creme de cassis to make a purple heather.” 


Manhattan's Four Seasons relish the res- 
taurants original mixture of Scotch, 
Grand Marnier and dry vermouth. Tony 
Vallone, proprietor of Tony's in Houston, 
created the Texas bellini—Scotch, cham- 
pagne and fresh peach juice—to titillate 
his Texas oil-tycoon patrons. Scotch cock- 
tails have even penetrated the Sun Belt. At 
Oscar Taylor's Phoenix, bartenders com- 
bine Scotch with créme de cassis to make a 
purple heather. And New Yorks "21 
Club is selling more honey bears than eveı 
according to veteran barman Bru Dan; 
The drink is essentially a Scotch sour. 
sweetened with honey rather than sugar. 

But, it's fair to ask, why should you vant 
to mix anything with Scotch whisky in the 
first place? For the same reason you'd sip it 
neat or on the rocks—for the crisp, dry 
peaty tang unique to Scotch. That asser- 
tive note carries over to the cocktail, com- 
plementing the mixer rather than losing its 
identity. Therefore, Scotch combinations 
have complexity, character, depth and 
excellent balance. 

If you've been assuming that lighter 
Scotches are more suitable for mixing pur- 


T. 


poses, you may want to reconsider. Scotch 
regulars use the same brand or style in the 
shaker that they take neat or over ice 
After all, it’s the same palate you want to 
please. Logic aside, there are many with a 
preference for Scotch cocktails who draw 
the line at mixing with such exalted speci- 
mens as Chivas Royal Salute, Ballantine's 
30-year-old, Johnnie Walker Black Label 
and Swing, Dewar's Ancestor, Royal Ages 
and unblended malt whiskics. 

Unimpeachable examples of classic and 
contemporary Scotch-based drinks follow 
Add them to your repertoire of bracing 
drinks with a burr. 


THE FANS 


1 oz. Scotch 

Ya oz. triple sec 

2 ozs. grapefruit juice 

% slice orange 

Pour Scotch and triple sec over ice cubes 
in old fashioned glass; stir briskly to blend 
Pour in fruit juice; stir quickly. Hang 
orange slice on rim of glass 


BLUE NILE 


We're indebted to Fergus McLarty, ех- 


ecutive secretary of The Saint Andrews 
Society of the State of New York, for this 
drink. You wouldn’t want a finer recom- 
mendation. 

1% ozs. Scotch 

Y oz. Rose’s Lime Juice 

Place ice cubes in old fashioned glass 
Add whisky and lime juice; stir well to 
chill. 


PURPLE HEATHER 

Purple heather the way they grow it in 
Arizona 

1% ozs. Scotch 

Ya oz. crème de cassis 

Club soda, chilled 

Shake Scotch and liqueur briskly with 
cracked Pour unstrained into tall 
glass. Add soda, to taste; stir quickly. 


ice. 


MAMIE TAYLOR 

Ye lime 

2 ozs. Scotch 

Ginger ale, chilled 

Place ісе cubes in highball glass. 
Squeeze in lime juice; add peel. Pour in 
whisky; stir. Add ginger ale, to taste. 

Note: This drink is served with ginger 
beer instead of ginger ale on occasion 


THE GODFATHER 


1% ozs. Scotch 
Ye oz. amaretto 


number one 
best seller. 


For two decades, more Trojan-Enz® Lubricated 
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other condom—because more consumers trust 
them and prefer them. 

For feeling in love, Trojan-Enz Lubricated offer 
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has a natural jelly lubricant—a Trojan exclusive— 
for greater sensitivity. 

Thin and safe, Trojan-Enz Lubricated condoms 
are individually packaged in tamper-resistant 


foil for ease of use. They're available in boxes of 
three, 12 or the economical 36-pack. 

Rely on the best-selling condom. Look for 
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your local pharmacy. No other condom has 
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While no contraceptive is 100% effective, Trojan brand condoms, when properly 
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би 


“Your wife has told me all about you and you're 
Just not Ihe type to hit a lady!” 


PLAYBOY 


Amaretto and Cognac. ) 


The way we put 
them together... 


MADE BY MIRAM БА КЕНІ 
ШЕ. хоз. say FRANCESCO, CALLE ig, 


What a difference a name makes. HIRAM WA KER 
1 


Fora free recipe booklet, write Hiram Walker Cordials, Р.О. Box 2235, Farmington Hills, ІЛЕМІЗ 


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Тһе legend that conquered Mount Everest has gone 
one step further. Now Vibram” soles are available on 
some of the finest casual shoes in the country. 

Тһеуте lightweight, good looking and they last. 
Next time, look for the legend. — 


Pour ingredients over ice cubes in old 
fashioned gl 


and chill. 


s. Stir very well to combine 


THE FOUR SEASONS FRENCH ROB 


4 ozs. Scotch 

Y oz. dry vermouth 

Generous dash Grand Marnier 
Lemon-peel strip 

Stir Scotch, vermouth and Grand Mar- 


nier with ice. Strain into chilled 
cocktail glass. Twist ресі over drink and 
add to glass. 


ENCLISH CHANNEL 


From Dan Beck, head bartender at 
Keen Restaurant, Manhattan. 

% oz. Scotch 

% oz. Irish cream liqueur 

%4 oz. Cointreau 

All ingredients should be chilled. Pour 
gently back and forth between two chilled 
containers. Pour into chilled gla 
ice cube. Garnish with strip of orange ресі 
if you like 


over one 


LOCH NESS 


A favorite at the Hilton International, 
London. The green and red cherries pre- 


sumably symboliz 
1% ozs. Scotch 
Ya oz. ginger wine 
Slice orange 


the monster’s eyes. 


Slice lemon 

Green cherry 

Red cherry 

Pour whisky and ginger wine over ice in 
old fashioned glass. Stir well. Garnish with 
fruit 


SCOTCH ORANGE 
1% ozs. Scotch 
3 ozs. orange juice, chilled 
Orange slice or pineapple chunk 
Pour whisky and juice over ice in high- 
ball glass. Stir. Garnish with fruit. 


DOUBLE SCOTCH 


An embellishment on the rusty nail 

1% ozs. Scotch whisky 

% oz. Scotch liqueur (Drambuie, 

Lochan Ora, Glayva) 

2 dashes orange bitters 

Orange-peel strip 

Pour whisky and liqueur over ісе cubes 
in old fashioned glass. Dash in orange bit- 
ters. Stir well to chill. Twist peel over 
drink, then drop into glass. 


fall is an opportune time to ex- 
plore the matter of Scotch cocktails. The 
weather turns brisk and your body craves 
something more invigorating than a screw- 
driver or a collins. Find another body with 
the same craving and have a scholarly 


seminar on the versatility of Scotch. 


Try the worlds most advanced 
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here in the privacy ol this magazine. 


[7 Ww ~~ 


UNE 


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After 25 years in the business, 
Code-A-Phone has perfected the 
art of keeping things simple. 


Place an n ordinary cassette over our new microcassette.. 
Code-A-Phone microcassettes record nearly twice as 
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functions: message playback, 
fast forward and reverse, an- 
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No other system can match it. 


Push here and get your 
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When you call in for messages, if 
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the first ring, it means no 
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up and save yourself 
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229 


PLAYBOY 


WINNING GROOMING 


(continued from page 134) 


“Select a shampoo that is custom-tailored to your 
scalp’s condition. Begin by reading labels.’ 


and becomes more receptive to the blade. 
Mem’s Cambridge Alter Shave for Sensi- 
tive Skin will fend off the effects of wind 
and weather and guard skin from pollut- 
ants. Skin-care expert Ilona of Hungary, 
whose salons tend to the hides of fans of the 
Chicago Bears, the Houston Oilers, the 
New York Jets and the Denver Broncos, 
gave PLAYBOY her facc-saving credo: 

Point one: After whiskers have been sol- 
tened, slather on a rich, nonrunning lather 
that enables your blade to glide. 

Point two: Never be miserly when it 
comes to saving face. Timeworn blades 
cause nicks and scratches. Teflon and plat- 
inum coatings are designed to make blades 
last longer. Stay sharp and dispose of dis- 
posable razors pronto. 

Point three: Shaving against the grain 
does not provide a closer shave. It can 
cause rashes, irritations and ingrown hairs. 
Go the flow and shave twice a 
day if five-o’clock shadow is your nemesis. 

Point four: Rinse, rinse and rinse again. 
The soap residue you may leave on your 
skin can cause chapping in the winter and 
ashes in the summer. 

Point five: Face up to protection. Com- 
plete your facial care with a nongreasy, pro- 
tective cream. 

Two-minute warnings: Constantly shav- 
ing over a wart, a bump or a skin 
protuberance can cause long-term skin 
irritation. Dr. Peter Bela Fodor, а 
York plastic surgeon who reports 


jew 
that 


about 50 percent of his patients are men, 
says, “Breakthroughs in medical expert 
make attending to facial flaws a one-visit 
procedure in most big cities, and the result 
is worth it in self-esteem." Dr. Fodor con- 
tinues, "Responsible sun-tanning today 
can prevent skin-related problems tomor- 
row.” So, although the bronzed look may 
have right-now appeal, moderation and 
PAB? есі tanning lotions will keep 
you looking younger longer. 


HEROIC HAIR — HOW TO HAVE 


Man was never intended. to shampoo 
with locker-room soap, since the residue is 
onc of the most difficult substances to re- 
move from human hair follicles. Contem- 
porary shampoos designed with a man's 
hair in mind have been specially formu- 
lated to gently lift out grease, grime and the 
day's accumulation of air pollution. Hats 
and helmets cause the scalp to per- 
spireand more grime to accumulate. Select 
а shampoo that is custom-tailored to your 
scalp's condition. Begin by reading labels. 
From coast to coast, Redken salons special- 
ize in giving their clients analyses of their 
hair and prescriptions for Ия improve- 
ment Get a professional 
controlling уо ind of dandruff, but 
shampoos and conditioners arc specially 
designed 10 cope with the problem, wi 
many experts in the field maintain is 
related to st 


5 


COCHRAN! 


“Now what do you think of sex on television?” 


and the author of The Complete Hair Book, 
maintains that “dandruff arrives in direct 
response to stress. In its own way, dandruff 
is nature’s way of telling you to slow down, 
back of, calm dow And Georgette 
Klinger, whose salons lend tender loving 
care to men’s scalps, believes that a well- 
massaged scalp leads to hair health. Mas- 
sage stimulates the scalp by bringing 
blood to the hair roots. Klinger recom- 
mends a home scalp massage that you can 
make part of your shower routine: 

1. Put one hand on your hairline and 
press your finger tips (not your nails) onto 
your scalp. 

2. Place your other hand on your scalp 
at the nape of your neck. Grasp your scalp 
with your finger tips. 

3. Move your scalp with both hands at 
once, as if were a piece of dough. Do that 
in several places around your head. 

When your hair is clean and dry, follow. 
with a brushing massage that will add 
Sheen to your hair and a healthy tingle to 
your scalp. The hair-care experts at René 
Furterer's Fifth Avenuc headquarters have 
perfected the brushing massage that keeps 
the fans of the New York Jets in tiptop con- 
dition. Try this once a week: 

1. Perform this five-minute workout 
using two natural-bristle brushes, prefer- 
ably round or semicircular. They should 
have very soft bristles for fine hair, hard 
bristles for normal hair and very hard bris- 
tles for thick hair. Brushes should be 
washed daily, so that natural oils accumu- 
lated one day will not carry over to your 
clean hair the next day. 

2. Holding a brush in each hand, first 
brush the hair from the nape of the neck 
upward to the forehead, then brush the 
sides upward to the crown. Finally, brush 
the front hair back. It is essential to brush 
the hair without pulling it or breaking it. 

Don’t panic when some of your precious 
strands appear in the brushes. Even 
healthy hair falls out at the rate of 40 to 70 
hairs every day and is constantly replacing 
itself, unless balding is one of your woes. 
Brushing massage is one of the best ways 
to keep your hair physically fit. 


SCENT: GOING FOR THE BIG FINISH 


The scent vou wear is as personal as 
your signature, as much of an LD. as the 
number on a football jersey. Select a scent 
you really like and carry the theme 
through the other products you buy to 
avoid the mixed signals of scents fighting 
with one another for attention. After- 
shaves, moisturizers and soaps have a 
lighter concentration of scent and impart a 
pleasant sense of well-being. Your op- 
tions are many—woodsy, herbal, citrus, 
musky—to identify your special environ- 


. like Joe Theismann, you'll find 
that getting all your gear together can 
have spectacular results. The Monday- 
morning hero in your bathroom mirror 


will be you! 


KING: 17 mg. "tar", 1.3 mg. nicotine; 
100517 mg. "tar", 14 mg. nicotine, 
av. per cigarette by FIC method.’ 


Share the spirit. | 


| Share the refreshment. | 


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


TILAN 


ORIGINALE-1525 » 


TO SEND ANYWHERE IN THE US.CAUL(800)328-s18.V01D WHERE тд 
LIQUEUR 56 PROOF SOLE U.S. DISTRIBUTOR, FOREIGN VINTAGES, INC. NEWYORK, NS pn. aer EI FROM ILLVA Sal 
N 
2214 


is 


WHAT'S HAPPENING, WHERE IT'S HAPPENING AND WHO'S MAKING ІТ НАРРЕМ 


OFFICE 
THE POWER DESK 


ife at the corporate top calls for big decisions, and if 
your executive responsibilities land you in the fast 
lane, where mega phone calls and financial calcula- 
tions are S.O.P., then cancel that request for a battery 
of secretaries and invest in an EDO System Six Hundred 
instead. For $895 (that's the cost of a few weeks of temporary 


help), you get а 38"x24" leather-and-brushed-aluminum 

electronic desktop assistant that combines telephone com- 
alculator, calendar and йтіп, 

sleek unit. You like to walk while you're wheeling and dealing? 

Setthe phone in the hands-free mode and you can carry on a 

call with no voice clipping. Sorry, J.B.—it doesn’t make coffee. 


Just plug your EDO System Six Hundred into any outlet and you have an electronic secretary that never quits. Those three fluorescent dis- 
plays across the top are the clock, the telephone number you've dialed and a calculator. Yes, the desk blotter is leather (choose among 
tan, burgundy and black) and the metal details are brushed aluminum. Incorporated into the phone is a dialer that will get 100 of your 
closest friends on the phone at the push of a button (and automatically call them back if the line is busy), plus much more, by Bynamics 
Corporation, Kanata, Ontario, $895. (Baton IV lamp, from City, Chicago, $386; crystal cigar ashtray, from Alfred Dunhill of London, $55.) 


E" 


ıJ, VERSER ENGELHARD 


Y 


234 


NOW YOU’RE COOKING! 


Aside from not cating quiche, real men also have 
an aversion to slaving over a hot stove when 
they're throwing a party. That's where The Clock 
Watchers Cookbook comes to the rescue. Its 
authors, Judy Duncan and Allison McCance, 
have selected more than 173 recipes that are easy 
to make and divided them into cooking times and 
preparation times. You do the dirty in advance 
and. come party time—voila!—you're a guest at 
your own bash. Yankee Publishing, Depot 
Square, Peterborough, New Hampshire 03458, 
sells the book for $9. 


, postpaid. Eat up! 


REFLECTING ART 
Seagram's has put something special under glass 
besides fine liquor: four legendary sports 
events—the first Army-Navy game (shown), the 
Walking Derby, a Tinker-to-Evers-to-Chance 
play and Canada vs. Russia in hockey, 1972- 
reproduced from original oil paintings commis- 
sioned by Scagram's. Each is on a 17/4" x 204" 
mirror framed in wood and is available from 
Seagram's Seven Crowns of Sports Mirror Offer, 
P.O. Box 1607, F.D.R. Station, New York, 2 
York 10150, for only $19.95 per item, postpaid 
Hang one up and hang one on. 


аз 


w 


POTPOURRI 


THE WINNING 
HAND 

We've got to hand it to the 
people who manufacture 
Hand on der Shticks. This 
crazy soft sculpture of a Йех- 
ible hand on a stick (the 
fingers move any way you 
want them to) is good for 
anything from hailing a cab. 
to a wild goose chase in an 
elevator. Satin sleeves and 


knit cuffs come in a variety 
of jazzy colors, and, no, the 


manufacturer (Kate's Way, 
P.O. Box 7645, Mammoth 
Lakes, California 93546) 
can't be held responsible if 
you flip out and flip a сор 
the bird. They re only 515 
each, so you may want to 
purchase a dirty dozen and 
organize a group grope or 
take 100 to a University оГ 
Texas football game, bend 
down the middle fingers and 
“Hook “em, Horns!” 


GREEN GROWS THE FOOTBALL SEASON 


‘This fall, instead of sitting slumped in your easy chair, pick up finan- 
yardage with Pigskin Vegas, a game for anyone who can tell a 
pass from a punt and who wants to add a little Nevada-type action to 
his gridiron predictions. Jokari/US Inc., 4715 McEwen Road, Dallas, 
"Texas 75234, sells Pigskin Vegas (which comes in a handsome vinyl 
briefcase-type box) for $24.95, postpaid, and that includes 120 chips. 
Since the game allows you to bet on every play, we recommend that 
you not sit in with anyone named Anson Mount. 


ВКЕАТНЕ EASY 


Oenophiles know that many wines benefit 
from being allowed to breathe before being, 
served, but now Concept Development 
Associates, P.O. Box 30405, Bethesda. 
Maryland 20814, has gone one step further 
and has engineered the Rhyton Wine 
Breather—an electronic device that oxi- 
dizes tannins and drives off vino mustiness 
in minutes rather than hours. The cost 
$62.50, postpaid. Jeeves, this wine needs 
another 20 seconds under the Breather 


EXOTIC TOUR DE FORCE 


The siren call of faraway places, from the 
Azores to Zamboanga, will be even louder 
after you've subscribed to Unique & Exotic 
Travel Reporter, a monthly newsletter 
available from Р.О. Box 98833, Tacoma, 
shington 98499, for $24 a year. Recent 
issues cover a camel safari in Rajasthan, a 
junket to the volcanoes of the Northwest 
and Hilton International 's first Gourmet 
Europe Tour. Guess which we picked. 


WING IT! 
No. this isn't the White Rock 
logo: it’s Psyche, the allegorical 
personification of the human 
soul that Paul Thumann 
painted a few years before the 
1893 Chicago World’s Fair. 
where it was later displayed 


Although no one knows what 
happer al paint 
ing (do you have a Psyche in 
your attic?). B. Anthony Col- 
lection, Р.О. Drawer 279, 
Elberta, Alabama 36530, is 
selling 287 x 21۷." reproduc- 
tions pulled from a stone litho 
for only $29.50, postpaid. In 
mythology, you'll remember, 
the god Cupid also had the hots 
for Psyche. We can see why 


v 


COLD CACHE 
Looking for a place to stash 
your hard-earned lettuce? Try а 
head of lettuce. Lett-us-Hide 
looks like the real McCoy, but 
you can pack enough long 
green in it to choke a rabbit. 
It's only $17, postpaid, from F. 


Frank Company, 17320 Daphne 
Avenue, Torrance, California 
90504. The same company 
also sells U-Can-Hides, jars 
that only you know don't con- 
tain grape jam, mayonna 
chili sauce or mustard. (The in- 
teriors of the jars are painted to 


make them opaque.) They're 
$15 cach or $45 for the com- 
plete set. Spread the word 


CHIP SHOT 


The next time a social or busi- 
ness situation calls for an 
exchange of cards, instead of 
handing over a crinkled piece of 
cardboard, try one made from 
real wood. Not only will every- 
one think you're in the chips 
but nobody throws a wood card 
away. The manulacturer, Ele 
gance in Wood, 230 Pinehurst 
Avenue, Los Gatos, California 
95030, olfers about 100 of them, 
from mesquite to walnu 

eastern red cedar to dog- 

wood. at prices even 
Р Paul Bunyan could afford 


and 


7 585 per 100 for name only 


(Write for info оп the cost of 
addresses and logos.) “A 
wooden card! Say, isn’t good 
old Davey a lumber baron?” 


235 


GRAPEVINE 


H 1 i 
e Talks Big Born to Run Down 


JOE PISCOPO needs alot of power to reach 


his syndicated-radio-show audience. Joe Sax ace CLARENCE CLEMONS has a right to be tired. His own band 
Piscopo at Large can now be heard on 250 recently released an album, Rescue. He co-wrote three ofthe songs. He 
stations. If you're planning to flash the air- and the band, The Red Bank Rockers, are currently on a national tour 
waves, you've gol to be well hung. that will last until he rejoins Springsteen and the E Streeters. Whew! 


Sweet Cheeks 


Actress RANDI BROOKS showed up at a 
charity do to sample some of Mrs. Fields's 
delicious cookies. When she’snotindulging, 
Brooks can often be found on TV and in the 
upcoming Chevy Chase epic Deal of the Cen- 
tury. We don't know about you, but we'd 
accept a nibble from this stranger any time. 


Face That Launched 
1000 Quips 

Last summer, a new magazine 
called The Movies appeared, 
and actress/comedienne ШҮ 
TOMLIN graced the cover of 
the first issue. But as you can 
see from this photo, Ernestine, 
that authoritative voice of the 
communications industry, didn't 


Tanked Up 


On the left, we have ZZ Top bass player DUSTY HILL, who looks like 
he's on something, On the right, we have VAN HALEN, who are on 
something. What does it all mean? Heavy metal is alive and well. ZZ Top's 
album Eliminator rode high on the charts, and Van Halen were reportedly paid 
$1,500,000 for an afternoon's work at last summer's US Festival. So these guys 
aren't complaining. But their neighbors might. 


Heels over Head 


VICTORIA JACKSON is a 
comedienne, а gymnast, a 
poet and a highly unusual 
entertainer. You've seen her 
on The Tonight Show. You 
saw her last summer on the 
% Hour Comedy Hour. You 
may even have seen herin a 
club. Here's what happens: 
She comes onstage, does a 
few warm-up cart wheels, 
flips into a handstand and 
begins to recite her free- 
form stuff. Either you laugh 
or you wonder. We laughed. 
After all, when's the last time 
you saw gymnastics done in 
high heels? 


PLAYBOY 


238 


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Тиіп зес $29.00 Queen set 545.00 
Fullset 539.00 King set. 
Waterbed set (specify size) 
3 Letter Monogram on 2 cases 54.00 
(Add 52.50 Postage & Handling) 


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COMING NEXT: 


THE GALA CHRISTMAS AND 30TH ANNIVERSARY ISSUES 


JOAN COLLINS, DYNASTYS DREAM QUEEN, POSES FOR A SIZZLING, 
EXCLUSIVE PLAYBOY PICTORIAL 


WILLIAM MANCHESTER RECALLS CAMELOT IN THE MAKING. THE 1960 
PRESIDENTIAL CAMPAIGN, IN "ONE BRIEF SHINING MOMENT: THE MAKING 
OF THE KENNEDY LEGEND" 


GEORGE V. HIGGINS HELPS US EAVESDROP ON AN UNUSUALLY REVEAL- 
ING OFFICE-GIRL CONVERSATION IN “DEVLIN'S WAKE" 


DAN RATHER TALKS ABOUT THE NEWS AND HIS FIRST TWO YEARS IN 
WALTER СНОМКІТЕ5 CATBIRD SEAT IN A NO-HOLDS-BARRED PLAYBOY 
INTERVIEW 


PHILIP GARNER, CREATOR OF THE BETTER LIVING CATALOG, GOES BELOW 
THE BELT TO DEVISE A SEXIER VERSION, THE "BETTER LOVING CATALOG" 


ISAAC BASHEVIS SINGER WEAVES A TALE OF LOVE, WAR AND POLITICS IN 
POLAND CIRCA WORLD WAR TWO; YOU WON'T FORGET ZINA IN “REMNANTS” 


DR. HUNTER 5. THOMPSON TAKES US ОМ A REAL TRIP, TO HAWAII FOR 
CHRISTMAS, AS THE GUEST OF THE ANCIENT GOD OF EXCESS AND 
ABUNDANCE IN "THE CURSE OF LONO" 


DAVID HALBERSTAM MUSES ABOUT WHAT'S HAPPENED TO SPORTS SINCE 
THE BASIC IDEA CHANGED FROM MAKING A GREAT PLAY TO MAKING A 
GOOD BUCK IN “THE LONELINESS OF THE LONG-DISTANCE FAN" 


CRAIG VETTER ADDRESSES THE QUESTION OF THE DECADE—CAN THE 
MEDIA KILL SEX?—IN “THE DESEXING OF AMERICA” 


BARBARA LEAMING ETCHES A PORTRAIT OF HOLLYWOOD'S LARGEST ШУ. 
ING LEGEND IN “GENIUS WITHOUT PORTFOLIO: ORSON WELLES IN TIN- 
SELTOWN" (THE GOOD NEWS: HE'S WORKING ON A PICTURE AGAIN) 


ANSON MOUNT RETURNS FOR ANOTHER PERFECT SHOT IN “PLAYBOY'S 
COLLEGE BASKETBALL PREVIEW" 


DONALD Е. WESTLAKE BEAMS US ABOARD THE SPACESHIP HOPEFUL IN 
SEARCH OF A LOST COLONY IN “DON'T YOU KNOW THERE'S A WAR ON?” 


IRWIN SHAW, AS HE EASES INTO HIS EIGHTH DECADE, SUMS IT ALL UP IN 
“WHAT I'VE LEARNED ABOUT BEING A MAN” 


DAVID SHEFF REPORTS ON THE WILD STORIES AND THE PARANOIA THAT 
SURROUND JOHN LENNON'S MEMORY, WITH EXCLUSIVE REACTIONS 
FROM HIS WIDOW, IN “THE TRASHING OF JOHN AND YOKO" 


BUCK HENRY TELLS US "HOW I INVENTED PLAYBOY" 


"SEX STARS OF 1983"; A VISIT WITH MUHAMMAD ALI BY MARK 
KRAM; "PARTING ADVICE" FROM THE FATHERS OF DAVID CARRADINE, 
GEORGE PATTON, JR., PATRICK WAYNE, ARLO GUTHRIE, KATHY CRON- 
KITE, PETER FONDA AND OTHERS; "LITTLE ANNIE FANNY'S EXERCISE 
BOOK"; "PLAYBOY'S ELECTRONICS GUIDE"; "THE 30TH ANNIVERSARY 
PLAYMATE HUNT”; FICTION BY ANTON CHEKHOV, GABRIEL GARCÍA MÁR- 
QUEZ AND RAY BRADBURY AND POETRY BY JOHN UPDIKE; ANOTHER 
LOOK AT CHARLES MARTIGNETTE'S COLLECTION OF EROTIC ART; 
"PLAYBOY'S CHRISTMAS CARDS" AND "THAT WAS THE YEAR THAT WAS"; 
KURT VONNEGUT'S THOUGHTS ON CENSORSHIP: A HITHERTO UNPUB- 
LISHED PHOTOGRAPH OF MARILYN MONROE; "CHOICE CARTOONS OF 
CHRISTMAS PAST"; A TRIBUTE TO THE LOST ART OF SCREWING UP BY 
ROY BLOUNT JR.; A PREVIEW OF STAR 80, BOB FOSSE'S NEW MOVIE 
ABOUT THE DOROTHY STRATTEN TRAGEDY; AND MUCH, MUCH MORE 


егор, 


E. you’ re into labels, 
s ily the best will do. 


A 


i Seren 
BLEI ГАУ 


алана А 2 


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na. 


“The Best In The House 


86.8 Proof. Blended Canadian Whisky. Imported in Bottle by Hiram Walker Importers Inc. Detroit, Mich. © 1982 
Send 51, check or money order, to Hiram Walker Inc./Patch, Dept. OLAE, P.O. Box 32127, 


Detroit, Mi. 48232. Allow 4-8 wks. delivery. U.S. residents only. Offer expires 12/31/84. 


TO ORDER A CANADIAN CLUB PATCH: