PLAYBOY

YOU COULD SPEND
A LIFETIME WONDERING
IF YOU BOUGHT
THE RIGHT VIDEO SYSTEM.

With so many different brands, systems and formats to choose from, how do you decide what to
buy? Do you want to record TV programs to watch later? Not all systems can. Do you want to
make home movies? You have two choices: all-in-one camcorders and portable components.
Do you want to watch prerecorded movies? You should know that VHS” movies are easier

to find than other formats. What about the latest in video sound...Hi-Fi? Or
stereo TV broadcasts? There are so many choices. And so much to know.

Start by asking yourself what
you want your system to do.

Once you know how you want to use your
video system, it'll be easier to pick out what
you need. For openers, there are three
major uses to think about: Making your
own movie. Taping a movie from TV. And
watching a VHS movie.

Why VHS? Just ask 8 out of 10 of your
friends who bought a VCR last year. They use
VHS and they'll tell you why. They get 8-
hour recording. And a selection of over 12
thousand prerecorded VHS tapes to buy,
rent or borrow. And now, the latest news in
home movie technology, camcorders, brings
another advantage to VHS.

movies, start here.

Play back
your magic
moments.

OmniMovie™ PV-200isanew VHS camcorder
from Panasonicthat does things many other
camcorders don't. It's a camera, recorder
and playback system. In one small, easy-to-
hold-and-shoot package. But unlike camcord-
ers in other formats, OmniMovie uses full-size
VHS tapes. So you can play back thousands
of Hollywood movies. On any TV set.
When you do shoot your own movies,
ou'll want it to be as simple as it can be.
u'll want a system that gives you automatic

If you want to make your own ©

ашы дь - 2 taking a snapshot. But

What 10 lux means is that you can capture
a birthday party by the light of the candles
onthe cake. So just compare.
To make extra sure that what you see is
what you get, OmniMovie gives you instant
review with playback right through the
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Panasonic OmniMovie to any TV and play
back what you j

Show the life o
party's still alive. Or see yt
cation while you're still on vacatioi
see it all with special effects that let you
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Think what that means when you watch
something special. Like
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OmniMovie cap-
tures those special
moments in life you'll
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what you get is the
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And you'll get something else. With
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OmniMovie becomes an entertainment
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And Hollywood’, too.

‚When taping TV programs
is as important as shooting
your own movies.

If you want to take a professional BBLS
think about portable separa
and recorders. The PK-959 Оп

is engineered to let you capture i
pictures with the realism of stereo sound.
And at 7 lux, you can shoot by the light of
one birthday candle.

EE so you can move fast to get ww

those magic moments before they get
away. That's where OmniMovie comesin. The
camera takes over with all systems on go:
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Something else to look for in a movie

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SPLASH is a Touchstone Home
Video release. © MCMLXXXIV
Buena Vista Distribution Co.. Inc.

5 PRO-AM.
APRIL 30-MAY 4, 1986. CALL 1-800-722-GOLF
EEIT ON NBC.

High-performance
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The Omnivision PV-9600A is а portable
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A VCR that can turn any TV into
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If recording TV programs and playing tapes
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Play VHS Hi-Fi
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You're ahead in what you see, too. With
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see a readout on the TV screen so you'll
know what you're programming.

i sound from your video recorder.

Your video system is only a
good as your video tape.

| Panasonic

You've got one chance to get
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Now, а TV that's ready today for
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5
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Why get stuck with a TV from the past,
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And with its own stereo decoder, ampli-
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We're confident the more you know about
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To learn more about
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you want assurance that what you buy is here to stay. Panasonic has many ways to enjoy the
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Now let Panasonic help you choose the video system that's right for you.

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PLAYBILL

ED ON who's been naughty and who's been nice—but
we've decided to lay a holiday present on you anyway. First, the
Playboy Interview with Bill Cosby, America’s most popular one-
man multimedia conglomerate. Lawrence Linderman cornered this
genial genius and coaxed him to lift the covers off his guarded
personal life. Lonely Guy Bruce Jay Friedman, who has made a
career out of defending the personal life, does us all a favor by
finally articulating The Biological Need for Boys’ Night Out. And
for those who are still bewildered by the way love can turn sour,
р. Keith Mano explains the five stages of Sexual Passages, demili-
tarizing our erogenous zones and making it safe for us to fall in
love again. Playmate Carol Ficatier, in C'est Мом, gives us good
reason to do so. This Miss December is the best thing to come
from France since Miss Liberty.

Speaking of statuesque ladies, O'Connell Driscoll's profile Brooke
Shields Walks on Glass (illustrated by Pater Sato) follows Amen-
ca's Dream Date on her rounds. Celebrity works in strange ways.
When Brooke suffers a minor cut, her fans bleed for her. She, of
course, is often very vocal about her antidrug opinions, as is the
Reagan Administration. It even contends that we are winning
the war against drugs. But we learn in Laurence Gonzales‘ Why
Drug Enforcement Doesn't Work (illustrated by Tom Curry) that one
reason is that some drug traffickers gross more in a year than the
DEA has in its entire budget. And that’s tax-free.

And in case you don't know what to do with your evenings,
America's Best Singles Bars may just give you a few ideas. Again
this year, Bruce Kluger has compiled the salient facts about our
most appealing watering holes. Those of you who insist on stay-
ing in—but staying up—are already likely to be addicted to
watching Indiana’s favorite gap-toothed wise guy. Late Night
with David Letterman, edited by Merrill Markoe (to be published by
Villard Books), reveals the bits the NBC show’s staff thinks were
their funniest—even those that, for reasons of taste and deco-
rum, didn’t make it on the air.

And for this month's dose of irreverence, Huey Lewis—rock's
most avid sports fan—takes a few swings at stardom, defends the
absolute necessity for golf breaks during long tours and credits
his success to his being a terrifically nice guy in 20 Questions.
Interviewers David and Victoria Sheff remember, “We saw Huey
three years ago at a San Francisco roc ‘oll bowling alley,
where he told us, ‘I have this killer album in the works'—as he
rolled his ball into our lane.” It was, of course, Sports.

Lest you think we've forgotten the picture portions of this
package, photographer Jeff Dunas and Associate Photo Editor
Janice Moses conspired to bring us the latest in transparent-
fashion trends in Barely There. You'll be seeing a lot more on the
street these days. And on the screen, as well. Jim Harwood reviews
the Sex Stars of 1985 and ponders the question, 15 Hollywood
becoming just another marriage mill? And Provocative Period
Pieces is another look at our favorite collection of erotic art.

As you curl up with our good book, you'll want to read A
Christmas Fantasy, by Paul Theroux, about a spooky encounter
with a beautiful woman; Tough, by lillian Ross (illustrated by Jose
Cruz), in which the hero learns to cope after divorce; and Hitch
Your Spaceship to a Star, by Donald E. Westlake, who imagines a
planet where time, literally, is of the essence.

The Playboy Guide devotes itself to the fast-forward world of
electronic entertainment. Like Father, Like Son depicts the off-
spring of famous actors solving important fashion issues. And
Andrew Tobias’ Quarterly Reports: You Really Should Read the
Prospectus— Really offers a few last-minute warnings about those
tempting tax shelters.

But we've saved the best for our cover and for this last men-
tion. Barbi is back! Contributing Photographer Richard Fegley and
West Coast Photo Editor Marilyn Grabowski were there when
Benton bared her considerable gifts to the Greek isles and
returned with these spectacular shots, And that should do it for
all the items on your Christmas list.

GONZALES

HARWOOD

THEROUX DUNAS, MOSES

=
۳
A Ye

WESTLAKE — TOBIAS FEGLEY. GRABOWSKI

“Tough” isn’t something you hang ona truck,
a something you build in. But you have to know
ere.

Racing helps us learn. The soaring truck above,
manned by racing pro Roger Mears, is an off-road
racing star. Its also a very special 4-wheeled lab that
tests “tough” for a company committed to a relent-
less search for innovative technology. The company’s
name is Nissan. And that search takes us to some of
the most grueling off-roads in the world.

In fact, through the years, Nissan-built trucks
have conquered more of these sanctioned survival
courses than any other compact.

(2) BELT YOURSELF

ROGER MEARS PILOTS
ONE OF OUR LABS.

Challenging—and beating—the most rugged
driving conditions possible helps to improve the
breed, in technology, quality and durability.

Put another way: when Nissan races, you win.
Because the same “tough” that helps Roger Nissan
finish first off the road helps your Nissan last on the
street.

Best extended-service plan available: up
to 5 years/100,000 miles. Ask about Nissan Security
Plus at participating Nissan/Datsun dealers.

THE NAME IS

NISSAN

PLAYBOY.

vol. 32, no. 12—december, 1985 CONTENTS FOR THE MEN’S ENTERTAINMENT MAGAZINE
PLAYBILL 5
THE WORLD OF PLAYBOY. eq WU
4 "5
ва ЛЕЗ
..... DAN JENKINS 45
...... ASA BABER 47
-. CYNTHIA HEIMEL 49
aon -CRAIG VETTER 51
THE PLAYBOY ADVISOR . 55
DEAR PLAYMATES. .... > 61
THE PLAYBOY FORUM. 63
VIEWPOINT: PLEASURE AND DANGER -.JAMES R. PETERSEN 72
PLAYBOY INTERVIEW: BILL COSBY—candid conversation. 75

BROOKE SHIELDS WALKS ON GLASS—personality O'CONNELL DRISCOLL 94
LIKE FATHER, LIKE SON—fashion д HOLLIS WAYNE 98
WHY DRUG ENFORCEMENT DOESN'T WORK—article . . . . LAURENCE GONZALES 104

BARELY THERE=pictotial 0. IO AES aes по
TOUGH-—fiction 120 That's Tough
LATE NIGHT WITH DAVID LETTERMAN—humor. 122
PLAYBOY'S CHRISTMAS GIFT GUIDE—gihs 129
THE BIOLOGICAL NEED FORBOYS' NIGHT OUT—humor . BRUCE JAY FRIEDMAN 134
C'EST MOI!—playboy’s playmate of the month. . 136
PLAYBOY'S PARTY JOKES—humor ............ 150

А CHRISTMAS FANTASY—fiction. _. . . PAUL THEROUX 152
PROVOCATIVE PERIOD PIECES—pictorial ...................................- 154
CHRISTMAS IN THE AIR—food and drink . ...... EMANUEL GREENBERG 156

BARBIE pictorial 2E RELL ИСИН T ae» 158 eg P136
SEXUAL PASSAGES—essay ......... ..D. KEITH MANO 170
20 QUESTIONS: HUEY LEWIS. ....- pees: ы 172

.. DONALD Е. WESTLAKE 174
text by JIM HARWOOD 176
BRUCE KLUGER 186

HITCH YOUR SPACESHIP TO А STAR—fiction ....
SEX STARS OF 1985—pictorial. ...
AMERICA’S BEST SINGLES BARS.

QUARTERLY REPORTS: READ THE PROSPECTUS—article . 195
PLAYBOY GUIDE: ELECTRONIC ENTERTAINMENT ...... aos 198
FAST FORWARD 214
PLAYBOY ON THE SCENE 283

COVER STORY Great to see those eyes again, isn't it? They belong to one
of our all-time faves, Barbi Benton, looking good in a cover photo by Contrib-
uting Photographer Richard Fegley and a $65,000 natural Russian crown-
sable coat from Somper Furs, Beverly Hills. Is there anything we neglected to
mention? Oh, yes. You'll see more Barbi in Barbi, beginning on page 158.

GENERAL OFFICES: PLAYBOY SUL DING. 919 NORTH MICHIGAN AVE... CHCAGO. ILLINOIS воєн. RETURN POSTAGE MUST ACCOMPANY ALL MANUNCHUPTA. DINARS ANO PHOTOGRAPHS SUBMITTED IF THEY AA то ве

PLAYBOY

- YOUR BROTHER
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— OF EDUCATION.

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expensive models, but at a price that's considerably less!

It has unlimited capabilities. It's fast, versatile and with a host
of worksaving conveniences. It features a 40-character lift-off
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PLAYBOY

HUGH M. HEFNER
editor and publisher

ARTHUR KRETCHNER editorial director
and associate publisher
ТОМ STAEBLER art director
GARY COLE photography director
BARRY GOLSON executive editor

EDITORIAL

NONFICTION: JAMES MORGAN articles editor: ROB
FLEDER senior editor; FICTION: ALICE к. TURNER
editor; TERESA GROSCH associate editor; PLAYBOY
GUIDES: MAURY Z LEVY editor; WEST COAST:
STEPHEN RANDALL editor; STAFF: GRETCHEN
EDGREN, WILLIAM J. HELMER, PATRICIA PAPANGELIS
(administration), DAVID STEVENS senior editors;
ROBERT E. CARR, WALTER LOWE, JR. JAMES R. PETER
SEN, JOHN REZEK senior staff writers; KEVIN COOK
BARBARA NELLIS, KATE NOLAN, SUSAN MARGOLIS
WINTER (new york) associate editors; MONA PLUMER
assistant editor, MODERN LIVING: ED WALKER
associate editor; JIM BARKER assistant edilor; FASH-
ION: HOLLIS WAYNE editor; HOLLY BINDERUP assist-
ant editor; CARTOONS: MICHELLE URRY editor;
COPY: ARLENE BOURAS editor; JOYCE RUBIN assist-
ant editor; CAROLYN BROWNE, PHILLIP COOPER
JACKIE JOHNSON, МАРСУ MARCHI, BARI NASH, MARY
ZION researchers; CONTRIBUTING EDITORS:
ASA BABER, JOHN BLUMENTHAL, E JEAN CARROLL, LAU-
RENCE GONZALES, LAWRENCE GROBEL, D. KEITH MANO,
ANSON MOUNT. REG POTTERTON, DAVID RENSIN. RICH
ARD RHODES, JOHN SACK, TONY SCHWARTZ, DAVID
SHEFF, DAVID STANDISH, BRUCE WILLIAMSON (movies),
GARY WITZENBURG

ART
KERIG POPE managing director; CHET SUSKI, LEX
WILLIS senior directors; BRUCE HANSEN, THEO ког
VATSOS associate directors; KAREN GAEBE, KAREN
GUTOWSKY junior directors; JOSEPH PACZEK assist-
ant director; FRANK LINDNER, DANIEL ВЕЕР, ANN
SEIDL art assistants; SUSAN HOLMSTROM traffic coor-
dinator; BARBARA HOFFMAN administrative manager

PHOTOGRAPHY
MARILYN GRABOWSKI west coast edilor; JEFF COHEN
senior editor; LINDA KENNEY, JAMES LARSON, JANICE
MOSES, MICHAEL ANN SULLIVAN associale editors;
PATTY BEAUDET assistant edilor; POMPEO POSAR Sen-
ior staff photographer; DAVID MECEY. KERRY MORRIS
staff photographers; DAVID CHAN, RICHARD FEGLEY
ARNY FREYTAG. RICHARD IZUL, LARRY I. LOGAN, REN
MARCUS, STEPHEN WAYDA contributing photogra-
phers; TRIA HERNSEN, ELYCE KAPOLAS, PATRICIA
TOMLINSON stylists; JAMES WARD color lab supervi
зот; ROBERT CHELICS business manager

PRODUCTION
JOHN MASTRO director; MARIA MANDIS manager;
ELEANORE WAGNER, JODY JURGETO, RICHARD
QUARTAROLI, RITA JOHNSON assistants

READER SERVICE
CYNTHIA LACEY-SIKICH manager

‘CIRCULATION
RICHARD SMITH director; ALVIN WIENOLD subscrip-
lion manager

ADMINISTRATIVE
1 P. TIM DOLMAN assistant publisher; MARCIA
TERRONES rights ÉS permissions manager; EILEEN
KENT contracts administrator

PLAYBOY ENTERPRISES, INC.
CHRISTIE HEFNER president

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1

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TheVCR thats capable of recording what will happen next year.

By 1986, most network affiliate stations
(including PBS) will broadcast stereo.

Unfortunately, most VCR's in use today aren't
wired to handle it. In fact, you can go out and buy
a VCR next week that may be obsolete next month.

The Toshiba VHS M-5800 is one VCR available
now that has MTS stereo capability built in. Plus,
Dolby* noise reduction in both record and play
modes. So when your favorite programs, movies,
concerts and shows are broadcast in stereo you can

record them as they were meant to be heard

The Toshiba M-5800 also features such in-
novations as 4 heads, 4-event/7-day programming,
full-function wireless remote, 117 channel cable

compatibility and frame-by-frame advance.
The Toshiba M-5800 stereo VCR. It sounds

good today. And it'll sound even better tomorrow.
*TM Dolby Labs.

In Touch with Tomorrow

козше

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THE WORLD OF PLAYBOY

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

THE NOMINEE FOR
BEST VISUAL ASSETS.

One thing audiences loved about the
sleeper hit of last summer, Fright
Night, was the rock"em, sock-em
special effects, and one of the most
special of those was Miss July 1981,
Heidi Sorenson (in her Playmate
layout at right; getting ready for a
fright below). All you Heidi fans, get
out there and see the movie—you're
sure to lose your head over her.

A ,

BEAUTIFYING AREA CODE 805

Atarecent Playboy Mansion West party celebrating the first
anniversary of NBC’s daytime soap Santa Barbara, the cast
welcomed a new member—Miss May 1985, Kathy Shower
(above, sharing birthday cake with Hef). Kathy will play a
chauffeur who—no surprise—makes it big as a Playmate.

CHARITY BEGINS AT HOME

USA for Africa brought in the millions; Rosanne
Katon Walden, Miss September 1978, and hus-
band Richard—founder of Operation California—
worked to turn the money into aid for Africa.
Below, they help supervise the first airlift.

| N ШШ

ADAM AND VENICE

What's to say about Miss September
1985, Venice Kong? That she’s beau-
tiful and talented? That you'd like her
to sit in your lap? It's all been said
before. But here's something that
hasn't: She makes her movie debut
in Tri Star's new movie My Man Adam,
and (above, with actor Charlie Bar-
nett) makes quite an impression. |]

SPACE ENTERTAINMENT

How will 21st Century space-
men spend their time? Judg-
ing from 20th Century Fox's
upcoming epic Enemy Mine,
with a spacy-looking pLaysoy
(above). They'll turn first, we
hope, to The Worlds of Playboy.

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LOT OF COMPETITION.
ЫШЫ ADVANTAGE.

Nobody ever said it was going to be Amiga will print the cover memo
easy. But it just got easier Now, theres while youre working on a spread-
Amiga!” The first and only computer sheet. And theres probably enough
to give you a creative edge. power left over to receive a phone

Amiga makes you look better, message or a stock аџоје overa
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A
U

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cruncher, filing system, audio-visual simple piece of software teaches
department, gre БС designer, print Amiga to emulate the IBM operating
shop and faithful workhorse. system, SO you can run most IBM pro-

You cant buy a personal com puter rams. You'll have instant access to
at any price that has all of Amiga's the largest library of business soft-

features. Nor can you find one that’s ware in the world, including favorites
easier fo use. Amiga lets you point at like Lotus® 1,23 and dBase®

symbols instead of learning compli- And since Amiga is the last com-

cated commands. puter you'll want to buy, it was only
Amiga is friendly, but irs а power- fair to make it endlessly expandable

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Macintosh™ or IBM® PC. It costs less ers (almost any kind), joysticks, your

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thing they can do, better, because modems, musical keyboards, draw-

Amiga is more creative. ing pads, extra disk drives. You can
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Need to make creative use of your life to everything you create.

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“міса GIVES YOU A CREATIVE EDGE.

He likes She likes
the planets. the stars.

SURGEON GENERAL'S WARNING: Quitting Smoking
Now Greatly Reduces Serious Risks to Your Health.
10 mg "чак" 0.7 mg nicotine av. per cigarette, FIC Report Feb'85.

DEAR PLAYBOY

ADDRESS DEAR PLAYBOY
PLAYBOY BUILDING
919 N. MICHIGAN AVE.
CHICAGO, ILLINOIS 60611

INTO THE GROOVE
Your September layout on Madonna is
perfect. I am impressed not only with the
pictures but also with the text that goes
along with them. I feel that it is honest and
sincere; it shows Madonna the respect she
deserves for everything she has accom-
plished as a person and as an entertainer.
J. M. LeClaire
Brea, California

"The Madonna pictures are some of the
most exotic and exhilarating shots shown
in the past ten years of PLAYBOY.

Fred Frackett

Springfield, Massachusetts

Your September pictorial on Madonna.
Louise Ciccone proves just how into the
groove PLAYBOY really is.

Barbara Lynne
Lake Oswego, Oregon

Lee Friedlander’s photographic genius
is apparent with his capturing of
Madonna. Her cyes look as if she could
kiss or kill you in an instant. I could only
stare, wondering which it would be. From
the obscurity of this unknown woman's
face to the natural beauty of her woman-
hood, Friedlander combines the bold with
the vulnerable. A masterpiece.

Johnny Mears
Nashville, Tennessee

I can't believe you had the class to pub-
lish those art photos of Madonna. They
are surely the only truc erotica you have
ever featured.

Judy Clark

Tallahassee, Florida

Га like to praise you for publishing
those exceptionally arousing, high-quality
photos of Madonna—espccially those in
which this exquisitely sensuous woman
proudly displays her unshaved underarms.
I've always felt that the unshaved look

offers a wholesome, earthy sensuality that
is far more appealing than the phoniness of
the shaved look.
Brian Chapman
Baldwinsville, New York

If that’s like a virgin, I would like to join
the club! Keep the hairy armpits coming.
Pat Flynn
New York, New York

I was quite taken by the daring and sen-
sitivity demonstrated by both artist and
model in your Madonna pictorial. I
sincerely hope this marks a new trend in
art photography for PLAYBOY.

Steven Kimmelman

Salem, Oregon

Steven, you can count yourself in good

company. Raymond Sokolov, writing a
photography column for The Wall Street
Journal, found our portfolio of Madonna
"attractive, interestingly lighted" and “ас
complished.” He noted that while there are
“flashes of controlled realism,” some of the
photographs possess “the serenity of a 17th
Century Dutch interior.” American Photog-
rapher called the photos “artful.”

HUSTON'S HONOR
Although Madonna nude was the catch,
the real prize in September's PLAYBOY is the
John Huston Interview by Lawrence
Grobel. Huston is а giant of a man. In the
Interview, he comes off as so normal—;
man who is at peace with his own convi
tions, who can look back and understand
why things were the way they were and not
be overwrought by them. Even now, at his
age, he comes across as sexy, alive and
capable of much more.
Judith J. Walen
Fullerton,

WELCOME TO THE SNIPE HUNT

PLAYEOY has had a sudden sales spurt in
Frazer Park, California, thanks in part to a
religious-activist group that began march-
ing outside the local pharmacy and liquor

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LOVE, SEX and ROMANCE
‘Al's fair in love and.
има,
C) THE WOMENS'S GAME
"Not for women only.

I RICH and FAMOUS.
"You can never be too rich or too trivial

frane
Paooress — -—
CITY/STATE/ZIP.
TEL.NO( |. Е а
| жешн па а Бан пи а и а и ==

CHANGING
YOUR ADDRESS?

Mailing Label or OLD Address Here:
р======

S
апе йипке |
ems
O BUSINESS
nag succeeds

mmmmmmmm диш ш шш шш
па Зан шш шш

(please print)

state пр

mait: PLAYBOY

PO. Box 55230, Boulder, CO 80323-5230

PLAYBOY

store carrying placards that read, BAN
PLAYBOY! and PLAYBOY PORN LEADS TO CHILD
MOLESTING: On our way to a campsite, my
husband and I stopped in this lovely
mountain burg for insect repellent. To
enter the pharmacy, we not only had to
skirt the ring-around-a-rosy of protesters
but also several locals who had purchased
the offending magazine, set themselves up
outside the picketed store and were
proudly reading млувоу. We asked the
clerk if business had been hurt by the pick-
eters. Tickled, she said the pharmacy used
to order four copies of PLAYBOY a month,
“but since they showed up, we can’t keep it
in stock.”

Gayle Caldwell-Bosley

Los Angeles, California

I am quite disturbed by the vote taken
in the House of Representatives to cut the
funding for reproducing pLaysoy in Braille,
I am very much for a balanced budget;
what upsets me is the complete irrational-
ity of the speeches on the floor calling
PLAYBOY “illicit sex.” Such remarks belong
in the same category as “Trees pollute the
environment” and “Evolution has no solid
grounds.” If we are to reduce the budget,
let's do it with equality and rational
thought, not with flat statements that have
no foundation. The PLAYBOY movement
brought a basic human drive to the fore-
front in a rational, dignified manner. I can
attest to that by the way I was treated at
Playboy Clubs in New York and Chicago.
If there had been anything sleazy going on
there, I would not have rented the VIP
Room for the golden anniversary of my
parents. 1 am living a very active and suc-
nal life in spite of a severe
ap. I wish to express my
sincere thanks to your organization and
staff for their contribution to my social and
business life. When irrationality is obvious
to all, let those of us who can think organ-
ize statements and facts to counter пта-
tional remarks, for the purpose of bringing
equality to all.

Emik A. Avakian
Chicopee, Massachusetts

Г am enclosing an article I just read
in The NewPaper (Providence, Rhode
Island). It seems to be saying that pLayeoy,
as well as Penthouse and Hustler, regularly
publishes pornographic cartoons of chil-
dren. I have been reading PLAYBOY for years.
and know that to be untrue (I can’t speak
for the other magazines, but I hope it’s not
true). I think your magazine should force
those folks to publish a retraction.

Janice Stone
Westport, Connecticut

The article to which Stone refers is
“Pornography Poses Risk Society Can't Af-
ford,” by Laura Lederer, released by Pacific
News Service. It reads in part: “New
research by Dr. Judith Reisman of the Amer-
ican University in Washington, D.C., is pro-
viding that information. Reisman and her
staff are cataloging portrayals of children,

crime and violence in three of the largest,
most widely read pornography тава.
zines—PLAvsOv, Penthouse and Hustler.
She has so far found over 2000 cartoons
about children. Three quarters of those show
children involved in violent or sexual activi-
ties, Many of these depict gang rapes of chil-
dren, fathers sexually abusing daughters,
benevolent or father figures raping or mur-
dering young girls.”

To which we say, “Apples aren't oranges.”
If other magazines are publishing cartoons of
“gang rapes of children, fathers sexually
abusing daughters, benevolent or father fig-
ures raping or murdering young girls,”
PLAYBOY never has, never will. Our readers
know that. And lying with statistics is still
lying.

POLICE DEPARTMENT

T have to say thank you to Mark Baker
for Cops (PLAYBOY, September). It's time
people became aware of what a cop's job
consists of. It’s riding around for eight
hours only until an offense occurs. That
offense may last only 30 seconds, but the
memory lasts forever. Reading about the
things that go on in other towns makes me
realize that my job in my small town is just
as meaningful as those of big-city cops. 1
hope everyone who reads the article
understands that being a cop is surely not
done for the money; it’s done for the satis-
faction of knowing that you have helped a
victim of crime or misfortune.

M. Lee

Vinton, Louisiana

RAVISHING RICHARD

I am a longtime subscriber who enjoys
your articles, fiction and jokes. However, I
skim by the naked ladies. Occasionally, in
Playbill, you have an itty-bitty picture of
Richard Fegley, who often photographs
these ladies. Well, I gotta tell you, Fegley
is one gorgeous man. And the itty-bitty
pictures are not enough. How about turn-
ing the tables and having a pictorial of
Fegley (sans clothes, of course)? This
would satisfy all of your women readers
(and there are a lot of us out here), and
your male readers could stand it for just
опе issue.

Angela Stewart
Fairfield, Connecticut
Bul who would take the pictures?

MORAL QUARREL

Anthony Brandt's The Moral Superiority
of (a) Men (b) Women (релувоу, September)
is further support for those of us who buy
PLAYBOY for the articles. It is certainly true,
as Brandt concludes, that women are as
capable as men of high levels of moral rea-
soning. But it is also true, as he never
clearly affirms, that men are characteris-
tically individualistic and principled,
while women are characteristically caring
and compassionate in their moral reason-
ing. What is perhaps more important is
that it is impossible to determine which of

these attitudes toward moral choices is
better. Without a common ground or a
higher, undeniable point of view, the
superiority of one attitude cannot be de-
termined. The sooner we realize that hon-
est, well-intentioned people of all moral
beliefs are on the same side, the closer we
will be to peace, harmony and happiness.
Paul Thiel
Covington, Kentucky

SECRET SHARER
Lately, I've been worried that having an
imaginary sex life is more than a little bit
strange. I'm happily married and enjoy an
excellent sex life, but I'm still somewhat
inexperienced and a little naive. After
reading David Black's Hot Secrets
(тлувоу, August), I was able to share my
private world with my husband without
worrying about a negative reaction. Your
magazine broadens my imagination and
gives me the courage to experiment on
new ground. Thank you, PLavboy and
David Black, for an excellent article.
Debbie Dunnill
Ottawa, Ontario

SPONTANEOUS COMBUSTION
нлувоу, I'll make you a deal. I'll trade
you five Texas women for Venice Kong.
Deal? Or do I need more collateral?
Carey Ham
Austin, Texas

Miss September, Venice Kong, did won-
ders for our morale while we fought forest
fires deep in the Salmon National Forest.
Our continual perusing of the Playmate
pictorial kept morc than just the fire burn-
ing. If Venice isn’t your Playmate of the
Year, then a lot of us fire fighters will be
greatly ppointed. Could we have just
one more look at the beautiful Venice?
Idaho Strike Team
Shoshone District
Shoshone, Idaho
Sure, but don’t go off duty. It looks as if

there may be a brush fire on the way.

Pure Joy”

Imagine a superbly crafted electronic
instrument, powerful enough to
protect against traffic radar, mir
ized enough to slide into ashirt pocket,
beautiful enough to win an inter
onal design award — an instrument
so sought after by knowledgeable car
enthusiasts that we know of scalpers
making a special market (their usual
mark-up is $100).

Then imagine finding one with
your name on it

Pure Joy is
a PASSPORT of your very own

PASSPORT has exactly what the
disceming driver needs, superheter:
одупе performance in a low-profile
package. It's about the size ofa cassette
tape, the smallest detector ever made
This miniaturization is possible
only with SMDs (Surface Mounted
Devices), micro-clectronics common
in satellites but unprecedented in
radar detectors. The result is Pure Jo
Others may put it differently. “In a
word, the PASSPORT is a winner.’ said
the expents at Car and Driver. But
you get the idea.

PASSPORT comes complete with all accessories.
د س‎

PASSPORT is packaged for presen:
tation with the same care that went
into its engineering. Everything is
included: visor clip, windshield
mount, straight cord, coiled cord — even
a leather travel case. Each item is
positioned in its own foam-padded
compartment to assure safe arrival
Rather like traveling first class, we think.
And this will be the impression
when the box is opened.

Installing PASSPORT is as easy as
the unwrapping, Just clip to visor or
windshield, plug into the lighter, and
PASSPORT is on duty

Pure Joy is our commitment to
* you. If PASSPORT doesn't live up
to your highest hopes—for any
reason — within 30 days, just send it
back. We'll refund all of your money
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Pure Joy is
the gift you'll save till last

One more PASSPORT advantage.
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Yo waiting in lines. We re as quick as
d we pay for shipping and
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With shopping this simple, it's
easy to experience the joy of giving
PASSPORT. But the best part is that
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$295 (OH res. add $16.23 tax)

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PLAYBOY AFTER HOURS

BLESSED BE THE BIKERS

A two-mile-long band of motorcycles,
coming from every corner of the state,
descended upon the sleepy Connecticut
town of Litchfield. A group of priests stood
in wait. Another bone-chilling biker-gang
horror? Hardly; this was the seventh
annual blessing of the motorcycles by
members of the Roman Catholic clergy
“We based it on the blessing of the ficet,”
said Father Ray Lombard. “We just leav
out the ships and replace them with
motorcycles.” Over the thunderous rum-
ble ofa Harley-Dayidson, Father Lombard
explained that these people were not gang
members but, rather, decent, law-abiding
bikers who were entitled to the Lord’s pro-
tection. One priest cautioned that the
blessing was “only good up to 55 miles per
hour.” Lombard added, “1 bless sidecars,

too.”
.

Perhaps he has moved on t
Bordeaux. The Chicago Sun
section included this listing: Mad Max
Beyond Thunderbird

.

A San Francisco woman who admitted
to her priest that she had embezzled
$28,000 from church funds has filed a
$5,000,000 lawsuit against him, claiming
that he had violated the confidentiality she
expected from him. She went to the priest
in the first place because she "couldn't
take the pressure anymore. I needed to
talk to someone, and the only person I
could speak with was my priest.” She
expected “forgiveness, and
secrecy.” What she got instead was a con-
viction for grand larceny and a sentence of
seven months in jail

.

Those of you who have a song in your
heart now can also have one in your pants
Frederick’s of Hollywood is marketing un-
derpants that have on the waist a tiny
music box that’s battery-powered and
activated by a flip of a switch, Tunes

premier cru
nes’ movie

absolution

include Jingle Bells, Happy Birthday, Love
Me Tender, Let Me Call You Sweetheart.
Here Comes the Bride and, for shameless
thrill seekers, When the Saints Go March-
ing In. However, one female customer
complained that the pants aren't wonder-
ful in situations when you don’t really
want to make music: “A big sealed box
was sent to me, and I heard Jingle Bells.
They just went off."
.

The ight-provoking for-sale
classified this month comes from The
Arizona Republic: “Two double-amputee
wheelchairs, two electric lawn mowers,
one table saw.”

most th

.

Sandia National Laboratories has
developed an adhesive that will stick to
almost any dry or wet surface and will
resist burning and removal with typical
solvents. The substance can be used for a
variety of purposes, according to Sandia,
but our favorite is its proposed usc during
warfare. Sandia envisions bombarding an

enemy airfield with the adhesive. Accord-

ing to the plan, planes would stick to the

ground and would be unable to take off

What do you have to say to that, Elmer?
.

We've all had sexual partners who occa-
sionally give us the willies, but one wom-
an's gave her hives. А 33-year-old woman
who was allergic to pollen, dust and molds
suffered varied allergic reactions after hav-
ing sex on several occasions with a man
who was taking penicillin
seemed to prevent the problem, though.

A condom

САТ-ЕООР РАТЕ

Our Worst Fears Confirmed Department
A Philadelphia meat wholesaler pleaded
guilty to charges that he had purchased
meat from a pet-food company and sold it
to local hospitals, schools and military
bases. The owner of the pet-food company
also pleaded guilty to the scheme, which
upwards of 15,000
pounds of meat a week for three and a half
years. Authorities said the meat was not fit
for human consumption—no surprise to
anyone who's ever eaten in a cafeteria.
.

Scoop of the month: A California ice-
cream maker is offering saffron gelato—at
$49.95 a pint. Ifit’s any consolation, that's
the same price he charges for his cham-
pagne ice.

involved peddling

.
A particularly plaintive lost-and-found
item appeared in The Milwaukee Journal:
“Lost—Gold wedding ring inscribed И
wear your love always.’ $200 reward.”
.

Walter Wood, a convicted murderer, is
suing the Utah State Prison, contending
that his constitutional rights were violated
when he “inadvertently wandered into an
escape-in-progress situation." He and two
other inmates strolled from the prison
grounds in civilian clothes. Wood was cap-
tured within hours. But in his $2,000,000
lawsuit, he claims that he suffered severe

19

Tired of the same old Caribbean island every year? It's time for a litile more adven-
ture in your island hopping, for the truly offbeat places far from the beaten track, offer-
ing delights that make them well worth the detour. Here are seven of the least-known
islands of the Caribbean, featuring more than just sun, sand and sea water,

TRINIBAGO

No tony luxury resorts here—just
campers, vans and offbeat recreational
vehicles. Meet real people who enjoy
the same pursuits you do. There's a
7-Eleven, a vidco-rental store and a
Swap-and-Shop to bring you all the
comforts of home. And thanks to G.
Clyde Armbuster, you can snorkel for
priceless R.V. treasures. In 1977, Arm-
buster, a multimillionaire and КУ.
collector, was in the middle of a stormy
divorce settlement. Rather than share
his precious collection with his wife, as.
the court had ordered, he dumped it
into the Caribbean. His loss is your
gain.

GOUDALOUPE

Originally a colony of Holland,
Goudaloupe is the only island in the
Caribbean that still makes its own
cheese.

The best time to visit Goudaloupe is
during Loogabooloc, the six-month festi-
val of hate and vengeance, to watch the
Goudaloupeans perform their colorful
Мојата rituals. In Мојата, the
natives create likenesses of their ene-
mies from large slabs of cheese, which
are then melted in a large communal
frying pan. To prove the sincerity of
their hatred, the participants must

ig them off.
ARETHA

Get there fast, before the record-
company execs do, because this is
where island music is really happening.
Aretha is the home of boogae, or boogae
boogae, as the natives call it—a funky,
rollicking combination of rock, Gospel,
calypso, reggae, boogiewoogie, Afri-
can, Brazilian, disco, ragtime, modern
jazz and pop. You stay in 2 muddy
shack with a hot tin roof, drink fifa, the
cheap island rum, and eat the soul food
of Aretha—deep-fried gunagloo, tani-
шат grits.

ST. VESCO

If you're getting away from it all in a
hurry and plan an unlimited stay in the
Caribbean, this is the place. St. Vesco’s
magnificent underground villas come
with a state-of-the-art security system,
round-the-clock Green Beret guard

service and a dozen trained Dober-
mans. Each home is equipped with a
complete laundry room, and same-day
dry cleaning is available, with free
pickup and delivery. Also, your villa’s
computer system is linked to all of the
island's 963 banks

ST. BARNACLE

An old fisherman’s island named
after the patron saint of hard luck, it
captures the innocence and charm of a
bygone era. Every evening, the St.
Barnacleans go out to sea in their tiny
square boats and cast their nets made
of okra leaves. Every morning, they
return empty-handed. It seems that
there are no edible fish near St. Barna-
cle, but the natives either don’t know ог
don’t care. For hundreds of years,
they’ve cast their nets, sung their island
chanteys, smoked their pipes and eaten
crusty bread as they fished through the
night. Chartered boats, nets, pipes,
crusty bread and tobacco rentals are
available.

THE CRINOLINES

"The Crinolines attract a few more
tourists than you may like because of
their justly famous natural wonders,
the Singing Bees and the Dancing
Stones. A remarkable strain of native
bees fly in small groups, actually hum-
ming calypso and reggae songs, while
on certain parts of the island there are
stones and rocks that pick up the bees"
musical vibrations and do a primitive.
time step similar to a tap dance. It may
not be Sinatra and Astaire, but it's
loads of fun.

ST. AMEX

Besides the usual fancy brands and
designer labels, St. Amex offers the fin-
cst in island wares and wearables.
Before you know it, you're stocking up
on wicker shoe trees, lobster-shell
sweaters that snap, crackle and pop as
you walk and those little cha-chas (not
the dance step but the tiny hamsterlike
creatures of the island that serve as
human Dustbusters. Cha-chas eat any-
thing that falls to the floor). Other
native goodies include banana-peel
sandals, fabanas, the ubiquitous primi-
tive collages made of dried insects, and
those silly coconut wigs.

—GERRY SUSSMAN

trauma while free. “Because of extreme
fear of being shot to death, I was forced to
swim several irrigation canals, attempt to
swim a ‘raging’ Jordan River and expose
myself to innumerable bites by many in-
sects. At one point, I heard a volley of
shotgun blasts, and this completed my
anxiety.”
.

Attention, tennis players: There's a
drier on the market for $15 that is ex-
pressly designed to be used for drying
sweaty racket handles. Honest.

WHISKY BUSINESS

They mutated Levi's jeans, they got
between you and your Calvins, and now
those counterfeit rascals are trying to
shove phony Johnnic Walker Scotch down
your throat. The Distillers Company of
London, the world’s largest Scotch pro-
ducer, had previously ferreted out odd
bottles of “Vat 96” and “Haiz.” But it had
never cracked anything like the cases of
the "Johnnie Hawker [italics ours] Red
Label Old Scotch Whisky” that recently
sluiced the world whisky market.

It turns out that Red Label is more than
an unregistered trademark: The whisky is
manufactured in Bulgaria and is distrib-
uted by the official state forwarding
agency, Despred. The stuff is packaged in
a look-alike square bottle that differs from
the genuine article only in brand name,
and a shipment of more than 28,000 bot-
tles was recently seized in Italy en route to
South Africa. Johnnie Hawker looks real,
but it tastes like Memorex, Produced with
chemical alcohol and “whisky essence,"
this crude attempt to undermine bourgeois
Western palates tastes, according to an
Italian customs official, "like toilet
water —something to keep in mind the
next time your host offers a shot of rare
single-malt Bulgarian.

•

Word processing comes full circle. The
New York Times headline summed it up
nicely: “SOFTWARE TRANSFORMS APPLE HE INTO
A TYPEWRITER.”

•

Well, we love it, but how about the
assessments? Joey Skaggs of New York
City manufactures fish condos—imagine a
dollhouse you put in your tank. Designed
for a standard five-gallon aquarium, the
units include little kitchen and living-room
areas. And they’re cute—about $1000
worth of cute. The bad news is that you
still have to worry about yellow—and
other-colored—waxy build-up.

б

A gunman who had run пио a Chicago
alleyway found his escape blocked by a
police barricade. After 45 minutes of care-
ful crisis-management self-reflection, he
fired three shots and then bargained with
police: “ГИ give you my gun if you give
me а beer." They did, he did—and aside
from his aggravated-assault charge, it was
pretty much Miller time.

©1985 Jordache Enterprises, Inc. Photo— Lance Staedler

THE JORDACHE LOOK:

А
|
Y

BAMBERGERS MACY'S MERRY GO ROUND MILLER'S OUTPOST

22

HEAVEN CAN'T WA!

In the ancient warld, it was а

MEASURING UP

The difference between psychogenic and organic impo-
tence has been clinically based upon whether or nota man
can achieve erections while sleeping. Diagnostic methods
have included placing a ring of postage stamps about the
flaccid organ; in the morning, popped perforations prove
potency. But even though a penis can break a band of
stamps, it can be too limp for penetration, leaving the
question “Just how erect is an erection?" Dr. К. Virag of

harbinger of strife and wor. Mark
Twain was born and died with it
‘overhead, and it's coming again
this yeor. Halley's comet, one of
nature's best fireworks, will be
visible from December 1985
through April 1986, and with Hal-

ley's Comet Finder, you won't miss
ам! on any of the fun. The back
has star charts and photagraphy
tips an how best to capture this
celestial speedster. Don't let this
opportunity slip through your
hemisphere; you won't hove an-

ather ane until the year 2060.

NINE TIPS
ON KEEPING
AMAN

The first one I heard from my mother: You catch more
bees with honey than with vinegar. If you translated that
into а rule, it would be “Be nice!”

The next three tips are also things I learned from my
mother: You’ve got to be a maid in the living room, a cook
in the kitchen and a whore in the bedroom. Since I have a
maid and a cook, I figure 1 can do the rest myself. There's
only so much you can do in one day and do it well.

Five: Throw out any matchbooks you come across with
odd phone numbers.

Six: Wear Chanel Number Five.

Seven: Always have entertaining dinner conversations,
even if you have to plan what you're going to talk about.
Life with someone includes so many dinners that you have
to be amusing. Most women never think about that when
they live with a man,

Eight: Leave a man alone when he’s in a bad mood.

Nine: Never be intimidated by another woman. Fight for
your man. Be willing to call up the other woman and tell
her you'll shoot her-

‘The Center for Impotence Research in Paris set out to find
a foolproof method of measurement. He attached a small
metallic sensor to the penile shaft to measure pressure
within the penis during its journey from flaccid to erect
and found that each millimeter of sensor movement along
the swelling member was equal to a given amount of force
on the penile tissue—hence, a measure of rigidity.
Virag named his unit of measurement the pen
penile) rig (as in rigidity). Scores of 100 or more indicate
an erection to be proud of. Anything below that means a
diminished state of sexual readiness—such as when your
girlfriend invites her consciousness-raising group to your
house. So there you have a peter meter to beat the band.

DIVIDED IT STANDS
Same folks take strife hame with $1200 (at New Yark's Warkbench
them, and designer Ron Christen- gallery), yau can have this braken

sen offers this room divider ta
make the domestic enviranment
mirror the outside world. For

section of reinforced cancrete with
gnarled, rusted barbed wire.
Think of it osa little piece of Beirut.

WILD CARDS

Maybe these will bring back
strip poker. In 1848, Baptiste
Paul Grimaud, a French-

person, designed a set of

playing cards that were
anamorphoses—drawings that
are distorted until seen

reflected in a curved mirror

Face cards in this deck have
the most fun. Each king exer-
cises his regal duties with
aplomb, the queens display
anything but reserve and the
jacks—the lowliest of the
bunch—are given a royal pain
by dominatrices. This facsim-
ile set is available at. Mythol-
ogy in New York for $14.50

HOT TIPS

The standard 15 percent gra-
tuity may be an endangered
species. More and more,
tipped workers now regard a
20 percent tip—and even 25
percent—as an appropriate
way to show appreciation for
service rendered. Such gener-
osity, however, seems to be
clustered around high-ticket
workers—hairdressers and
barbers. Cabdrivers seem to

Next time you run a 26K.
marathon, you may want to
analyze your performance
on your 256K computer.
Puma has fashioned its RS
Computer Shoe with an on-
board microchip impact
sensor that can jog your
machine’s memory to tell
you how far you've run and
how many calories you've
expended; it can even rank
your performance against
previous personal bests.
Shoes, computer cable link,
preprogrammed software
and manual will cost $200.
Replacement shoes, with-
out chip, will go for 595.

TO THE MANOR BORNE: BUYING
A BRITISH TITLE

International Investment
and Business Exchange i
England has made five lord-
ship-of-the-manor titles avail-
able to Americans through its
representative, Marje Stran-
dell of Dallas, Texas. Prices
range from $20,000 to $37,000,
and buyers get a coat of arms,

documents on the history of

the title and the right to be
called lord or lady. In addi-
tion, they have access to the
House of Lords (but no vote)
can join the British Manorial
Society, have the use of their
manorial grounds and can
pass the title and privileges on
to their descendants. In the
past, such titles were sold only
in very private, discreet deals.
But according to Strandell,
“Some manorial lords are

hurting for cash . . . badly.”
Among the titles are the lord-
ship of Cokesputt, Devon
($20,000); the lordship of Gel-
ham Hall, Norfolk ($29,000);
the lordship of Morden, Devon
($27,000); the lordship of Tale,
Devon ($37,000); the lordship
of Talaton, Devon ($20,000)

Strandell points out that “in
order to buy a title, the only
requirement is that one pay
the price for it. But we feel we
also have to do a little bit of
screening so the title and the
history will be carried on in
an honorable and respectable
manner.

“We do this by talking to the
prospective buyer. I trust my
instincts and gut feeling. If
someone is bragging a lot on
the telephone, 1 doubt that

think that little has changed in
the past few years—with one
cabby complaining that 12 to
15 percent of his customers
don’t tip at all and that he
averages only an eight percent
tip above the meter. In Chi-
cago, however, one shoeshine
man remarked that a dollar tip
on a dollar shine is not uncom-
mon. “Not bad,” he conclud-
ed, “for five minutes’ work.”

that person will really respect
what he’s buying.”

The prospective buyers so
far are from California, Ore-
gon and Texas

According to Strandell, one
man from Houston would not
use the title in everyday life.
“He wants to charter a plane
to fly his family and business
associates to his manor house
to have a Texas barbecue,
complete with a caterer flown
in from Texas." There's also a
gentleman from California
who wants the title for the his-
torical value and as an invest-
ment. But ће, too, will never
use it. He told Strandell, “I
don't want to be called lord
and my wile's not going to be
called lady.”

Well, all of this is well and
good; but we'll wait until the
duchy of Earl comes on the
block — RENA LEBLANC

23

PLAYBOY

24

SURGEON GENERAL'S WARNING: Smoking
Causes Lung Cancer, Heart Disease,
Emphysema, And May Complicate Pregnancy.

16 тд. “tar”, 1.1 mg. nicotine av. per cigarette, FTC Report Feb.

By BRUCE WILLIAMSON

А SLEW of high-powered actresses will be
vying for laurels when this movie year
ends, and Kate Nelligan can now claim a
place among the top contenders for her
virtuoso stint in the title role of Eleni
(Warner). Portraying a courageous Greek
mother who died trying to saye her chil-
dren from deportation to a Communist
country during the civil strife that divided
Greece right after World War Two, Nelli-
gan delivers emotional dynamite on
demand. You will wait in vain for any
comparable fireworks from John Malko-
vich, a fine, subtle actor who doggedly
underplays even his biggest moments as
Eleni’s son in adulthood (Andrea Laskaris
plays him at the age of nine). Of course,
Nelligan and Malkovich have no scenes
together, since his role is that of former
New York Times reporter Nicholas Gage,
whose original Eleni became an inter-
national best seller after its publication in
1983. The book was his first-person
account of an excruciating odyssey back to
the Greek homeland he hadn’t seen since
childhood to find out why—and by
whom—his mother had been executed
and to avenge her death.

To condense Gage’s 400 interviews with
people in more than half a dozen countries
would be a tall order for any film. Thus,
the screenplay, by Steve (Breaking Away)
Tesich, with frequent flashbacks between
its slow start and stunning climax, often
resembles selected highlights from Eleni
Relying on Billy Williams’ lush camera-
work, plus a vibrant musical score by
Bruce Smeaton, director Peter Yates
makes all of it sweepingly visual and
neoromantic even when a stark, visceral
style might have served the story better.
But whenever Nelligan takes charge, Eleni
throbs with both guts and glory. ¥¥¥

•

To describe the plot of Maxie (Orion)
might handicap a daffy and beguiling
romantic comedy that plays like some
madcap farce from the Thirties. Obviously
relishing the chance to bounce around the
screen with lighter-than-air material,

Glenn Close and Mandy Patinkin take off

with their roles as a San Francisco
couple—she's a bishop’s secretary, he's a
rare-books scholar—who encounter a
ghost named Maxie while renovating their
old house. Close plays both the young
wife, Jan, and the intruding ectoplasm—a
Twenties flapper and would-be movie star-
let who not only seduces Jan's husband
but uses Jan's own body as bait. “I'm a
woman, not а flophouse,” protests the her-
oine, reasonably objecting to transient
souls’ checking in and out om a whim
Maxie is altogether implausible, but plau-
sibility seems irreleyant when the two
Stars start to twinkle, as if director Paul

Nelligan, as Eleni, with her children.

Nelligan, Malkovich team up
in Eleni—a stirring true account
of war, survival and revenge.

Aaron had been ordered to clone an old-
fashioned screwball comedy in the spirit of
Topper. George Delerue's sprightly musi-
cal score and Patricia Resnick’s screenplay
(adapted from a novel by Jack Finney)
fortily the impression that San Francisco is
a fantasyland where the rules of logic may
be suspended from time to time in favor of
farfetched fun. ¥¥¥
.

Still in San Francisco but on a more
somber assignment, Glenn Close in Jagged
Edge (Columbia) plays the reluctant
defense attorney of a rich newspaper pub-
lisher accused of brutally murdering his
much richer wife. After resisting the case,
she falls in love with her glamor-boy client
(Jeff Bridges) and declares professional
war on the ruthless prosecutor (Peter Coy-
ote) who used to be her boss. It's an intri-
cate triad, with motives tainted on every
side by greed, sex and lust for power. All
three of the principal actors—plus Robert
Loggia, as a drunken investigator digging
up evidence for the defense—play this
worldly, handsome whodunit for a good
measure more than it’s worth. If the
screenplay and direction were equal to
their talent, Jagged Edge would be a
knockout. As is, it's a so-so suspense
drama. УУ

.

Writer-director Larry Cohen is a mer-
chant of menace whose track record (It's
Alive and Q are entered in evidence)
proves that he doesn’t take terror too
seriously. The Stuff (New World), star-

ring Michael Moriarty and Andrea
Marcovicci, abetted by Paul Sorvino as a
right-wing fanatic with his own broadcast-
ing facilities in Atlanta, is a droll, grisly
jape about an uncontrolled substance, all
white and custardy, that oozes up from the
bowels of the earth and starts behaving
like Tofutti on a rampage. Some evil entre-
prencurs put Stuff on the market, of
course, and people eat it up as a swell
new supertasty secret-formula dessert,
unaware that horrid side effects are just a
swallow away. The Stuff is pure junk food,
low in nutrients and as enjoyably nutty as
a Snickers. ¥¥

•

An unsolved murder, loose women, а
love triangle and an imminent prize fight
that never happens are part of Detective
(Spectrafilm), a terminally boring French
movie by Jean-Luc Godard. As the bad-
boy wonder of le cinéma francais for
roughly a quarter of a century (since
Breathless), Godard is a legendary aes-
thetic eccentric whose flops are preten-
tious, incoherent and frequent. Any
fanatic Godardian who can explain the
plot of Détective must haye sat through it
twice, an unimaginable feat. Although one
character insists, “We're not in some little
French film where the actors believe talk-
ing is thinking," you'd better believe that's
a warning. V

.

The youthful shenanigans of Berrer Off
Dead (Warner) concern a high school loser
who ponders suicide when his favorite girl
dumps him for the hot-shot captain of the
ski team. John Cusack, who plays the de-
spondent hero, was chosen for Dead when
25-year-old writer-director Savage Steve
Holland saw him in Rob Reiner's The Sure
Thing. Although Chicago-born Cusack is
an assured young comedian, he gets too
little help from Holland's hit-or-miss gags,
most of which are dragged in D.O.A. У

.

To really enjoy Bullshot (Island Alive),
you'd better be a pushover for broad Brit-
ish humor. Adapted from a theatrical par-
оду of the Bulldog Drummond storics,
Bullshot stars Alan Shearman as the
doughty adventurer and superpatriot who
rescues damsels (chiefly Diz White), pur-
sues villains and generally creates chaos in
a good cause. Not my cuppa, but genial
and high-spirited, on that thick, like
currant jelly on a crumpet. ¥¥

.

Does anyone remember that the
nonmonster lead in the original Godzilla
nearly 30 years ago was played by
Raymond Burr? Well, he and Godzilla are
both back, Burr older but wiser and pon-
tificating platitudes, in the god-awful
Godzilla 1985 (New World). The monster
that mauls Tokyo this time around still
resembles a large pile of plastic guano—

Citadel Pass.
A rugged place for the Christmas spirit to start.

ALBERTA, CANADA

When my dad first brought
me up here for Christmas, |
didn’t know what to make of
it. No crowds. No shopping.

Just the snow, and the dogs,
and a sense of peace so pro-
found 1 could feel it months
afterward.

When І was older, my dad
introduced me to Windsor
Canadian. They make it
| nearby.

I don't think they could
make it anywhere else. They'd
never match the glacier water,
Alberta rye, or the mountain
air—the things that make
Windsor Canada's smoothest
whisky.

It's the smoothness that
- always brings back memories
of this place. When he's older,
I want my son to have memo-
ries like that.

Give Windsor this holiday. Call toll free to arrange
delivery of gift box anywhere in the US.
1-800-621-5150 (Illinois residents call 312-334-0077).
Void where prohibited by law.

WINDSOR

CANADA'S SMOOTHEST WHISKY.

CANADIAN WHISKY A BLEND > 80 PROOF = IMPORTED AND BOTTLED BY THE WINDSOR DISTILLERY CONPANY, NEW YORK. N Y © 1985 NATIONAL DISTILLERS PRODUCTS CO.

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no triumph of spccial-eflects technology
after three decades in limbo—and the
Japanese-to-English dubbing is so out of
sync and ludicrous that I half expected an
end credit giving a nod of acknowledg-
ment to Woody Allen. Anyway, it’s rotten
enough to give bad-movie bufls a bomb to
remember. YY
•

French writer-director Francis Veber
(whose imposing credits include the
screenplay for La Cage aux Folles, The Toy
and other Americanized remakes of his hit
comedies from abroad) definitely has a
way with tart, flavorful soufflés. The latest
frolicsome Veber import is Lo Chèvre
(European Classics), which means “the
goat," a French label for an accident-
prone sad sack. Gérard Depardicu, as a
private investigator, and Pierre Richard,
as a congenitally unlucky accountant,
endure a series of amusing setbacks when
they're assigned to Mexico to find a
wealthy man’s kidnaped daughter (Co-
rynne Charbit), the kind of scatterbrain
who keeps bumping into things. La Chèvre
is so mild, easygoing and pleasant to look
at, with droll Laurel-and-Hardyish chem-
istry between its two male stars, that I
would not be surprised to hear that some
mogul has snapped up the rights for recy-
ng in English with Tom Hanks and John
Candy, or maybe Richard Pryor and Gene
Wilder. Meanwhile, the subtitled original
melts language barriers in mirth. ¥¥¥

.

A young girl separated from her father
discovers America during the Great
Depression in The Journey of Natty Gann
(Disney), which looks back at those bad
n a picturesque collage of land-
scapes that sometimes resembles a Sierra
Club calendar. Whar's new from the world
of Disney is the gritty social conscience of
the tale, directed by Jeremy Kagan from a
scenario by Jeanne Rosenberg (co-author
of the Black Stallion screenplay). The
plucky title character, portrayed by gifted
teenaged newcomer Meredith Salenger,
encounters hobos, thieves, drifters and
dirty old men while hopping freight cars
оп her cross-country odyssey from Chi-
cago to Washington state to find Dad (Ray
Wise) in a lumber camp. Natty Gann is far
superior to standard cinematic kid stuff,
even though its cast includes a wonder dog
named Jed, portraying a tamed wolf in an
engagingly realistic manner that will not
remind you of Lassic. УМУ

•

New York, New York, a hell of a town,
displays zero appeal as a tourist attraction
in a trio of movies that make Manhattan
seem a teeming inferno of sex, drugs and
violence, In docudrama form, Gringo
(Triad) focuses on the wretched exist-
ence of a dedicated junkie (portrayed by
real-life addict John Spaccly) and some
of the unlovely people he encounters. Di-
rector Lech Kowalski presumably intends
Gringo as a harrowing deterrent to drug
use, yet half his message went right by me

while I cringed and squinted through no
fewer than a dozen grisly depictions of
addicts shooting up. Then I staggered
away, having learned nothing new, neither
edificd nor entertained. Streetwalkin' (Con-
corde/Cinema Group). as you might
expect, deals in а mean-streets manner
with prostitution. Mostly, its heroine
(sympathetically played by Melissa Leo)
tries to elude a psychotic pimp (Dale Mid-
kiff) who appears determined to slaughter
the entire cast. It ends in a blood bath,
with yeteran sexpot Julie Newmar sort of
slouching to the rescue as a cynical but
spectacular whore named Queen Bee.
Another beauty exacts a woman's venge-
ance in Sudden Decth (Marvin Films).
She’s Denise Coward, Australian runner-
up for the Miss World title in 1978. Here,
Denise plays a rape victim who, after her
ordeal, buys a gun and lures at least four
would-be assailants into range. Her crimes
pay off in love and kisses with a young
detective who evidently endorses the eyc-
for-an-eye notion that whatever a ravaged
lady wants, she Goetz. For satisfying mor-
bid curiosity about Gotham Guignol, all
rated equal: ¥¥

О

Director Leon Ichaso's Crossover Dreams
(Miramax), filmed mostly in New York's
Spanish Harlem, looks brimful of authen-
tic local color set to a salsa beat. Its other
asset is Rubén Blades, a singer-actor with
considerable screen presence, who oc-
casionally gives the movie a lift of
Iyrieism— especially when he stands alone
оп a tenement rooftop, seemingly serenad-
ing flocks of passing birds, The down side
is that Blades, as a flashy salsa singer
named Rudy. doesn’t get much backup
from the pilfling screenplay, which studi-
ously honors every showbiz cliché while
charting Rudy’s fast rise and even faster
decline. On the way up, he drops loyal
friends, then spurns his neighborhood
sweetheart (Elizabeth Репа) to cavort with
groupies in a hot tub. So what makes
Rudy run? Mamly a tried-and-tinsel plot
that reduces Dreams to dust. ¥¥

.

Although identified as David and Judy,
the divorcing spouses in writer-director
Henry Jaglom's Always (Goldwyn) bear an
intentional resemblance to Jaglom and
Patrice Townsend, his beautiful former
wife (who made her movie debut in his Sit-
ting Ducks). Clearly cast as their alter
egos, Henry/David and Patrice/Judy are
having a farewell dinner, a sentimental
rendezvous that stretches into a Fourth-of-
July holiday truth session with two other
couples—one about to be married, one
locked in connubial combat. Jaglom is
more interesting as a maker of movies than
as a performer, and he tends to be so
deeply and personally involved in Always
that his feclings often run away with his
film sense. There’s an awful lot of hugging
and kissing, letting the camera linger over
Patrice's engaging smile, blathering on
and on about pain, happiness and inner

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PLAYBOY

selves. Stacks of old-time, sentimental
show tunes spin along on the sound track
while Jaglom's psychodrama ranges from
irritating self-indulgence to moments of
oddly touching human comedy. Finally,
though, the company Jaglom keeps is not
especially stimulating to an outsider; I felt
as if I were trapped at a weekend house
party with a sextet of characters who had
been overexposed to est. ¥¥
•

Truth far stranger than fiction gets a
substantial boost from Sissy Spacek's soft
but sterling performance in Marie (MGM/
UA). Adapted by John (Gandhi) Briley
from Peter Maas’s book Marie: A True
Story and ably directed by Australian-born
Roger Donaldson, the movie plays like an
upgraded docudrama made for prime-
time television. It’s intelligent, earnest,
full of honorable intentions in recapping
the saga of Мапе Ragghianti, an abused
young wife and mother who leaves her
husband, supports three kids while work-
ing her way through college and winds up
fighting corruption in high places when
she becomes the first woman to head Ten-
nessee’s Board of Pardons and Paroles.
Marie’s tangled tale lurches from medical
crises at home а young son seriously
ill—to ethical crises on Capito! Hill,
where pardons are bought and sold by the
network of good ol’ boys in charge. Jeff
Daniels and Keith Szarabajka play a cou-
ple of the men whose mettle she tests,
though the film’s most provocative casting
coup has Marie's attorney, Fred Thomp-
son, played by Thompson himself. He was
a Watergate legal alumnus whose flair for
courtroom drama helped Ragghianti tri-
umph and eventually sent Tennessee's
Governor Ray Blanton and his cronies to
prison. Thompson’s acting is an asset to a
pretty good movie with an air of authentic-
ity but no sudden gusts of genius to help
Marie achieve Magnum force. ¥¥%

D

Typically French and very nearly as
commonplace as a tiny replica of the Eiffel
Tower, director Michel Deville's Peril (Tri-
umph) charts what follows when a bored,
beautiful matron (Nicole Garcia) hires a
handsome young stud (Christopher Mala-
boy) to give her nubile daughter guitar.
lessons. Maman. herself soon learns—or
teaches—a few things about sex, murder,
plots and counterplots. Although always
conscientiously clever and civilized, Peril
is much more interesting for its heated
passion than for its convoluted crime. ¥¥

•

There's а hell of a lot of conversation to
wade through in Key Exchonge (Fox), a
romantic comedy still showing its origins
as an off-Broadway play by Kevin Wade.
Although the play was a hit, the movie
misses by a wide margin, despite some
bright lines swapped by a young, unmar-
tied Manhattan couple who trade apart-
ment keys as an experiment in
commitment. Brooke Adams and Ben
Masters, creators of the roles on stage, re-

ТАТЕ RAGGHIANT

Again, Spacek scores in screen bio.

A winning performance
from Spacek as tough
lady in Marie.

create them winningly on film. To “open
up” the staginess of the play, Masters and
his close chum (Daniel Stern) do a lot of
their talking while bicycling in Central
Park. The best bits fall to Danny Aiello, as
a sleazy private detective, and to Tony
Roberts, as an effusive talk-show host who
has Phil Donahue’s picture on his dart
board. Mayor Ed Koch is also rabbeted in
for a guest appearance boosting the Big
Apple (“1 urge everybody to come"), but
neither Koch nor Key seems likely to
attract a wildly enthusiastic crowd. ¥¥
•

A wealth of talent is largely wasted in
director Martin Scorsese’s After Hours
(Warner), a nightmarish comedy set in the
trendy SoHo district of Manhattan.
Rosanna Arquette, Verna Bloom, Teri
Garr, Linda Fiorentino, John Heard and
Cheech and Chong appear among the mad
eccent who complicate life for a bored
word-processing expert in search of excite-
ment downtown. He finds more than he
can handle among the native fauna, some
of whom subscquently join a posse to pur-
sue him as a suspected burglar. The hero
is played by Griffin Dunne (who's also one
of the film's coproducers). No matter how
he tries, and he tries hard, Dunne's fierce
comic energy cannot pump life into a
vapid screenplay (by fledgling writer
Joseph Minion) that consistently mistakes
mere anything-goes kinkiness for high
comedy. What’s needed here is a touch of
the sprightly sensibility that made Desper-
ately Seeking Susan an irresistible tale of
Manhattan. After Hours looks as darkly
handsome and stylish at first gl
of Scorsese’s urban film epics, but its black
humor comes out a dull, muddy gray. ¥¥

MOVIE SCORE CARD

capsule close-ups of current films
by bruce williamson

After Hours (See review) Scorsese’s so-so
romp through SoHo. Misguided. W%
Agnes of God Showy debate over a
young nun either saint or sinner. ¥¥¥
Always (See review) Marital bust, ¥¥
American Flyers Brothers on bikes in a
telling Steve Tesich drama. ww
Bock to the Future Delicious comedy
about family tics in a time warp. УУУУ
Better Off Dead (See review) Yup. Y
The Boys Next Door All-American youths
painting the town in cold blood. ¥¥%
Bullshot (See review) True Brit. Ww
Lo Chévre (See review) Saucy French
farce with Depardieu and Richard. ¥¥¥
Compromising Positions Clever whodunit
about a dentist slain after drilling and
cooing many suburban wives. wy
Crossover Dreams (See review) With love
and salsa, from Spanish Harlem. ¥¥
Dance with а Stranger A sexy showcase
for Miranda Richardson. WIA
Detective (See review) Zilch, unless you
think Godard can do no wrong. Y
Eleni (Sce review) The book's better,
but Kate Nelligan is grand. — УЙУМ
Flesh & Blood With Rutger Hauer, when
knights were ballsy. yyy
Godzilla 1985 (See review) Dreck. ¥¥
Gringo (See review) Depressing, vivid
slice of life about the drug scene. ¥¥
Insignificance MM meets Einstein in a
far-out Fifties phantasmagoria, ¥¥¥
Jagged Edge (See review) Peter Coyote,
Jeff Bridges encounter Close. WA
The Journey of Natty Gann (See review) A
girl and her dog sight-seeing through
the Great Depression. Wh
Key Exchange (Sce review) Singles. ¥¥
Kiss of the Spider Womon Men behind
bars dreaming of Sonia Braga. Played
to the hilt by Hurt and Julia. ¥¥¥
Marie (See review) Spacek craft. ¥¥%
Maxie (See review) Making whoopee as
of yore, with Glenn and Mandy. ¥¥¥
Mishimo Cool, stylish bio of Japan’s
late, great literary master. WA
Peril (Sce review) Paris snatch. E
Plenty Streep, Gielgud, Sting & Co.
make this play on film sizzle. ¥¥¥¥
Streetwalkin' (Scc review) Pimp wars in
dirty old New York.

The Stuff (See review) Eerie matter with

a mind of its own, Mischievous. v
Sudden Death (Sec review) Rape victim.
turns vigilante to even score.

Iwice їп а Lifetime The loves of a middle-
aged Seattle steclworker—and you
won't forget Gene Hackman. — ¥¥¥¥
Volunteers Peace Corps low-jinks. ¥¥¥
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38

MUSIC

REVIEWS

NELSON GEORGE

то BE OR NOT to be а clone of Prince is a
ion the renegades from his frozen
neapolis kingdom are forced to make.
Writer-producers Jimmy Jam and Terry
have shrewdly modified the Prince-
rcd funk of the Time for numerous
artists. So has the surprisingly successful
ex-Time guitarist Jesse Johnson. But
Andre Cymone, ex-Prince roommate and
bassist in his superb original band, has
failed in two previous albums to establish
a commercial musical identity, though he
has looked good on his album covers. Alas,
his current release leaves him worse off.
Seeking a hit, Cymone got Prince to give
him Dance Electrie (Columbia), an outtake
from his Around the World in а Day that
serves as the title song of Cymone’s album.
Itshould have stayed in the vault. It is eas-
ily one of the weakest efforts of Prince’s
career and does little to help his ex-
employee. Neither docs Neon Pussycat or
the other forgettable tunes collected here.
On Morris Day’s solo debut, The Color of
Success (Warner), the Times ex-lead
singer opts for a polished L.A.-funk sound,
heavy on peppy synthesizer bass lines and
cooing female backing voices—good but
not distinctive music. Morris, however, as
we know from Purple Rain, is as funny as a
con man in Congress. This album is full of
chuckles: a new dance called The Oak
Tree, funny lines (“I'm a bad influence on
the word love”) and weirdly autobio-
graphical subject matter (The Character).
Still, Icave it to Prince not to be out-
done. The Family (Warner), his latest pro-
tégés, are three ex-Time members—the
sister of his guitarist Wendy and his road
managers’ brothers. This introductory ef-
fort is sharp, hard-partying funk, aided
immeasurably by Prince’s backing vocals
and guitar picking. Check out High Fash-
ion, The Screams of Passion and Yes for
grooves James Brown would adore.

CHARLES М. YOUNG

Frightwig howls about sex and relation-
ships without euphemism, which is to say
that Cat Farm Faboo (Subterranean) would
be pretty depressing if it weren't funny

And и à funny in the grand-farce tradition
of punk rock—exuberant catharsis out-
weighing such details as hitting the notes
or having many notes worth hitting in the
first place. A lot of bands uphold that tra-
dition honorably, but Frightwig does so
uniquely by virtue of its all-female point of
view. Unlike that of its sort-of forebears
the late Runaways, Frightwig's lust col-
lapses under cynicism worthy of Diogenes,
and the band throws in just enough empa-
thy so you feel you might be part of the

A brand-new Day.

Prince's friends,
female punks and
Nashville cats.

same species. The last time 1 got shot
down, I listened to Take This and Fuck Yer
Head and had this Buddhalike revelation:
Dating is pain, but once you accept the
pain, it ain’t painful. Do not play Fright-
wig as background music when putting the
moves on a cuphemizing female Yup, how-
ever, or you'll suffer a relapse.

the English punk band/anarchist
collective, has such high principles that it
won't tour the United States (would that
Wham! were so principled). Nonetheless,
it has had a powerful influence on Ameri-
can peace punks, while few others have
heard of it. With Acts of Love (Crass), the
band undergoes a drastic change of sound
from punk dissonance, gross-out surreal-
ism and overt revolutionary exhortations
to 18th Century church organ cum Phillip
Glass cum Laurie Anderson having her
toenails pulled out with red-hot tongs.
That's right: It’s sensitive and introspec-
tive, an indication of what your life will be
like when Cras donc suipping off
your social conditioning. 1 figure if I listen
to it ten more times, I'll be either a revolu-
tionary or a quivering blob of protoplasm.
But after Frightwig, 1 don't know if Pm
man enough to listen ten more times.

ROBERT CHRISTGAU

Leonard Cohen / Various Positions (Pass-
port): For almost 20 years, Leonard Cohen
has whispered in your car that to be a roué
is a religious calling, and if you're tired of
his shtick, so be it—I prefer Al Green

myself. Nevertheless, this album has a lot
of jam. Aided by John Lissauer and Jenni-
fer Warnes, Cohen doesn't make a false
move musically, unless you're a stick-in-
the-mud who demands real melodies; hi
drone is more hypnotic than ever. And if
Bob Dylan could still write fables as con-
voluted as The Captain or hymns as
haunted as If It Be Your Will, he'd never go
pop again. A better advertisement for
middle-aged sex than Dynasty.

Mofungo / Frederick Douglass (Coyote/
‘Twin Tone, 2541 Nicollet Avenue, Minne-
apolis, Minnesota 55404) and The Scene Is
Now / Burn All Your Records (Lost, 361 Canal
Street, New York, New York 10013): The
few fervent rockers who are also fervent
leftists know all too well how poorly the
two mix—the music is too intrinsically
irresponsible to carry serious messages
comfortably. But these interlocking sets of
nerdy bohemians, veterans of New York's
“no wave” flurry of 1978, come close.
Funny but not happy, memorable but not
catchy, intense but not bright, this ain't
pop music, but its folk-industrial textures,
world dance rhythms and screechy-yowly
vocals are definitely rock "n' roll. Mofungo
is a straight quartet, The Scene Is Now a
more exotic one. Closet pinks, vote with
your mail orders.

Howard Jones/Dream into Action
(Elektra): The world would be a better
place if we could ignore Howard Jones,
but the world isn’t a better place. Howard
is a budding star—not merely in news-
hungry old England (where even
psychobabble bland-out can pass for a
snappy gimmick) but in the U.S.A., which
ordinarily demands at least a little vulgar-
ity of its hit Brits. Jones is а positive-
thinking Orientalist who credits 15 There a
Difference? (i.e., between yes and no, up
and down, etc.) to the Тао Të Ching, but
Lao-tzu has a better beat. Piling truism on
cliché on advice to the lovelorn, his mes-
sage for confused youth is summed up in
Hunger for the Flesh—he’s agin it. Plus, he
plays all the instruments himself. Cast a
cold eye/On disc, on cassette— / Con-
fused youth, pass by!

DAVE MARSH

Not so long ago, records made in Mem-
phis, Detroit, Chicago, New Orleans, the
Bronx and Nashville each had a distinct
flavor. Today, pop sounds have become
internationalized, and суеп the most
vaunted local scenes dole out standardized
styles. That makes Nashville Homegrown
(produced for the benefit of the Nashville
Homegrown Hunger Project, P.O. Box
40325, Nashville, Tennessee 37204) genu-
inely remarkable. Twelve bands are repre-
sented here, and even those playing
mainstream rock and folk-rock—the
White Animals and Timberline—put a
distinctive Southern coloration into their

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40

FAST TRACKS

1

MATERIAL GIRL OVERLOAD DEPARTMENT: We hear that Madonna does her off-stage sweating
at a Manhattan fitness center called Joy of Movement. But before you rush over to join her,
we ought to tell you that her aerobics classmates have been complaining—about her jew-
elry. It seems all those bracelets and necklaces make such a racket that no one can hear
the music. The next time people yell, “Take it ОЙ!” don't assume they mean her clothes.

Lî IN THE FAST LANE: Andrew Morse ОГ
Nice Boys has taken a groupie to
court, claiming her behavior has caused
him to suffer “insomnia, anxiety and
depression.” Morse said since he met
the girl, five years ago, she has followed
him from coast to coast and has stood
on the sidewalk in front of his apart-
ment, screaming and threatening him.
Nice guys finish last, right?

REELING AND ROCKING: Nile Rodgers will
produce and score the music for John
Hughes's next movie, Pretty in Pink.
UB40 and Suzanne Vega will contribute
songs. . . . Autograph is working on a
song for the new Rob Lowe movie,
Youngblood. . . . Sheena Easton has
recorded Christmas All Over the World
for the Dudley Moore film Santa Claus—
the Movie. . . . Julian lennon will sing
the title song for White Nights, star-
ting Mikhail Baryshnikev and Gregory
Hines.. . . Thomas Dolby has written a
script for Steven Spielberg and the sound
track for Richard Brooks's film The Fever.

NEWSBREAKS: Yoko is in the studio,
working on a new album. . . . Boy
George 15 moving ahead with his plans
for a giant Christmas concert to raise
funds for AIDS. So far, he's asked Diana
Ress, Elton and The Eurythmies to per-
form. . . . John Benitez has produced a
demo tape with Madonna, Nick Ashford
and Valerie Simpson doing songs for a
proposed musical called Street Smart,
based on Oliver Twist. . . . The Wankers
Guide to Canada, the all-star SCTV
musical travelog album, came out this
fall. There should be a bock version
soon, though no one knows when its
U.S. publication date will be—nor
when the inevitable TV special or
series will commence. The story, about
the travels of a Bulgarian family on a
Canadian holiday, seems visually irre-
istible. . . . Rock 'n' roll and Miami

Vice continues: Frankie Valli thought the
exposure on TV's hottest show was
more important than $35,000 worth of
concert bookings. We also hear that
Power Station will make a Vice appear-
ance when the show goes to London for
a segment on the I.R.A. . . . If It's Cool
with Jagger and Bowie Department: Since
Mick and David's Live Aid duet was
released to movie theaters to raise a few
more dollars for famine relief, a
New York-based firm, Music Motions,
says 2500 theaters coast to coast have
contracted to begin showing shorts
with Rick Springfield, Jermaine Jackson,
Sade, Twisted Sister, Carly Simon and oth-
ers. - . - A final Live Aid note: A fan
offered the relief effort a $100 contribu-
tion if Tom Petty would shave his side-
burns off. Tom's mom got so excited,
she offered to match the contribution.
Petty took the challenge and the Aid
coffers are $200 richer. . . . Listen for
Keith Richards on the latest Tom Waits
album. . . . Even though Ross Valory
and Steve Smith didn't play on the
new Journey album, they'll most likely
go on tour with the band this com-
ing March. . . . PBS’ new series
Rockschool, produced by the BBC, is
essentially a teaching tool. Although
there will be guest appearances by the
likes of John Taylor, В. В. King, John
Entwistle and Nile Rodgers, the eight-part
series teaches basic instrumental tech-
nique and music theory and will be
accompanied by related educational
materials. Now you can get really hip
at home.

RANDOM RUMORS: The coed hard-rock
group Madam X may look tough, but,
really, it's just a bunch of nice folks.
Says bassist Chris “Godzilla” Doliber,
“People in the audience say, ‘What
kind of drugs do you take?” Life! The
only thing I ever put up my nose is my
finger!” That docs it. —BARBARA NELLIS

music. Better yet, there's some gutsy
Southern rock here, notably Deaf, Dumb,
Crippled and Blind, by The Prisoners of
Love, featuring Jimmy Hall, the form's
best singer. Nashville Homegrown builds a
picture of a scene that’s healthy, diverse,
aware of the world but traveling its own
path. In fact, there are still a few old-
timers out there making music that has
appeal mostly in one region. Malaco
Records of Jackson, Mississippi, special-
izes in Deep South R&B, and while it’s
not the same without Z. Z. Hill, veteran
Little Milton fills in nicely on ! Will
Survive—especially on Frankie Miller's
Jealousy.

But standardized rock can be exciting,
as the Shreds’ Identically Different (Narley,
10519 237th Place, S.W., Edmonds, Wash-
ington 98020) demonstrates. This is just
The Rolling Stones filtered through the
Cars (or maybe the Yardbirds) by a basic
quartet, but the playing is dean and
competent and the bassist has the nerve to
call himself Mick Jaeger.

Beyond outlaw poses, the best rock re-
mains rooted in community: Nashville
Homegrown and New York rap are both
examples. An even clearer one is John
Cougar Mellencamp’s Scarecrow (Poly-
Gram), his most spare, intelligent and
ambitious LP. In his southern Indiana
home, Mellencamp discovers that he can
outgrow being abrasive for its own sake
and learns some hard lessons about how
the world works—and why it doesn’t. Not
all of these stripped-down rockers score,
but the ones that do—especially Minutes
to Memories and Scarecrow, a scathing tale
of what it means for a farmer to lose his
land—create something that's far better
than trendy: It’s enduring and ext

SHORT CUTS

VIC GARBARINI

The Men They Couldn't Hang / Night of a
Thousand Candles (Demon): The Clash
meets the Clancy Brothers. Strident,
one-dimensional folk-rock revivalists, with
humorless political rhetoric to match.

The Pogues/Rum, Sodomy, and the Lash
(Stiff): The Clash meets the Chieftains.
More quasi-trad folk-rock but leavened
with raw Irish humor, passion and Guin-
ness—Pogues (Mahone) being Gaelic for
“Kiss my as

Midnight Oil / Misplaced Childhood (EMI):
Absolutely nothing like the Clash!
Kayleigh shows that these shameless
early-Genesis clones are finally getting the
hang of their craft. Frankly, musical necro-
philia gives me the creeps.

Godley and Creme/The History Mix Vol. T
(Polydor): Video moguls playfully remix
their former 10CC hits. They're cute "n^
clever, but are they danceable? Well,
sometimes.

The Sex Pistols tive (Receiver): For
archivists only. Energetic but disappoint-
ing tapes of early Pistols gigs. Lacks pres-
ence and majesty of their studio work.

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ANNE RICES first novel, Interview with the
Vampire, was an altered state of conscious-
ness, a mind-expanding drug. She turned
the act of drinking blood into an erotic
wonder. Vampires were not monsters but
creatures with heightened awareness and
strange dietary requirements. We confess
to being heartbroken when we finished the
book: We could never do it again for the
first time. Well, it turns out that we can.
Rice has retumed with The Vampire Lestat
(Knopf). It is wonderful. Lestat rises from
his grave in New Orleans, summoned by
the music of a local garage band. Noisy
neighbors are a problem, it seems, even for
immortals. Lestat decides to form a rock
band that will summon others of his kind.
Don’t panic. MTV does not stand for
More Toothsome Vampires. The modern
thread is only the setup for a walk through
time, in which the reader meets Those
Who Must Be Kept—the Ma and Pa Ket-
tle of vampires. The best news is that this
is the middle book of the Chronicles of
the Vampires.

•

You may not be old enough to remem-
ber the Thirties—the last years of Ameri-
can innocence, when a Good Humor bar
cost a dime and two hot dogs with mustard
(plus sauerkraut and a bottle of Pepsi) cost
15 cents. If you want to know what that
distant decade was like, read E. L.
Doctorow's latest novel, World's Fair (Ran-
dom House). Set in New York City, nar-
rated primarily by a man remembering his
youth, World’s Fair captures a huge slice of
that life: The Lone Ranger and The Green
Hornet on the radio, cowboy movies,
decent schools, safe streets, families that
worked at staying together, a sense of com-
munity, shared burdens, admitted hard-
ships, no television. Those were the days,
you could argue, and Doctorow’s well-told
tale of a young Jewish boy growing up in
that cleaner atmosphere is touching, edu-
cational and, when you compare those
times with these, frightening.

.

There is honor among thieves, espe-
cially when they're related. Vincent Pat-
rick's Family Business (Poscidon) follows
three generations of scam artists —grand-
father Jessie, father Vito and son Adam—
as they plan and carry off heist of some
highly valuable genetic material. But in
the same way Patrick’s first book, The Pope
of Greenwich Village, was not merely about
crime, Family Business spends a lot of its
time musing about family and how we all
bchave around people with whom we
share our blood. There's good talk here,
and strong, complicated knots between
fathers and sons. If you live outside the
сарпсе of the law, you have to set your
own standards, Patrick's characters argue,
even when they pit people who share а
crazy love against cach other. But Patrick

Lestat: rock 'n’ roll for the bloodthirsty.

Modem vampires in
search of their roots;
laughs from Cronley.

entertains as well as instructs. This book
moves smoothly and confidently through
its moral issues—like a thief who enters a
building, having deactivated the alarm.

•

Serendipity Dahlquist's dog is missing
and, boy, is she steamed, This precocious
14-year-old Valley girl hires hardened
detective Leo Bloodworth to get the pooch
back. What follows touches on pit-bull
fighting, child porno, bank graft, TV in-
fighting, kidnaping and, of course, some
grisly murders. What's nice about Sleeping
Dog (Arbor House), by Dick Lochte, is its
nutty and charming premise: After the
caper is solved, both Dahlquist and Blood-
worth write an account of the story. Each
sells it to a New York publisher, who com-
bines the two in a single volume with alter-
nating chapters from each book. The
resulting ping-pong of perspectives gives
the rcader a pleasant literary whiplash
and is solid evidence of Lochte's ability to
sustain separate voices simultaneously.
Don't let this Sleeping Dog lie.

e

But I wanna tell ya. Speaking of books
you don’t see just every day, didja see the
One called Funny Business (Spectrum), а

guide to becoming a comic? Tells you why
people laugh, describes varieties of humor
(“How about jugglers? No comedy here,
you say? You are wrong”) and gives practi-
cal hints in chapters with straightforward
titles: "Some Good Advice,” "Hire
a Writer.” Written by one Ken Berry-
hill, foreword by Phyllis Diller. Lavishly
illustrated with photos of professional

comics inscribed to the author with in-
formative captions: “Wink Martindale.
This famous recording artist, ТУ game-
show host and public speaker punctuates
all of his performances with pertinent
comedy lines. (Photo courtesy of Wink
Martindale.)” But seriously, folks.
.

Funny Farm (Atheneum), Jay Cronley's
sixth novel, is ridiculous, implausible,
bonehead dumb and laugh-out-loud funny
throughout. Subtitled “A Sweeping Epic
of the Sticks,” it follows Andy and
Elizabeth Farmer from “a glass building
owned by Arabs” into the deepest South-
western boonies, where they find their
dream house and much, much more. The
house is summer home to a herd of mos-
quitoes, next to a pond full of snakes so
vile the ducks take off in disgust. The
much, much more is even worse. The post-
man throws mail from his truck, unde-
terred by rain, sleet, speed limits or
drunk-driving laws. A pint
neur follows the truck,
and letters for resale to the addressces.
The previous owner of the house is buried
in the yard. The bomb shelter’s taking on
water and the local bingo hall is crooked.
Andy takes to drink, Elizabeth runs home
to Mother. The way they finally save their
marriage—and their hellish house—is a
scene out of Our Town directed by Fellini.
Funny Farm will never be hailed as a clas-
sic. It's too much of a joy ride for that.

BOOK ВАС

Not Exactly What 1 Had in Mind (Atlantic
Monthly Press), by Roy Blount Jr.: Talk-
ing wrenches, what you personally can do
about the Federal deficit, men, women
and projectiles, word processors, celeb-
rities—just a few of the topics taken on by
our favorite humorist.

Healing from the War (Houghton Mifilin),
by Arthur Egendorf, is a very special piece
ol Vietnam literature. Egendorf served
undercover with Army Intelligence in
Vietnam, then went on to become a prac-
ticing psychologist. Now a nationally rec-
ognized expert in treating war trauma, he
has written a fascinating study of his per-
sonal and professional growth that helps
explain war stress.

Dear Mr. Fantasy: Our Time and Rock and
Roll (Houghton Mifflin), by Ethan A. Rus-
sell: Well known as a rock photographer,
Russell tells how he got started and fills us
in on the stories behind the stories, illus-
trated with the photos that made him
famous.

Seasons of the Hunter (Knopf), edited by
Robert Elman and David Seybold:
Intriguing hunting stories, including the
опе we recently published by Thomas
McGuane.

а

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UIT |

SPORTS

A few squalid fortnights ago, the
sports editors of American newspa-
pers, who used to be noted only for losing
their lunches and occasionally their wives,
all got together and lost their heads. When
they did, it reaffirmed my belief that col-
lege football is a better game than pro
football. More fun to watch. More inter-
esting to follow. More reliable to bet on.
Better tasting. Less filling. And even seri-
ous enough, at times, to make you hurl
your body in front of a moving vehicle if
the little animal on your blazer doesn’t
beat the little animal on somebody else’s
blazer. Of course, the number-one reason
college football is a better game than pro
football is that most college players
haven't yet learned how to slip down and
lose yardage when it’s third and two; but
this has nothing to do with sports editors.

What these gentlemen of the press did
was hand over about 32,000,000 inches of
space to the saga of whether an ex-
quarterback and doubtful thespian from
Beaver Falls, Pennsylvania, could, should
or would peddle his name, voice and per-
sonality to network television for use on
Monday Night Football, а program that has
become so boring that it presents a greater
challenge to the amphetamine industry
than all of the sitcoms combined. When
Joc Namath finally did sign with ABC-
ТУ, the sports editors devoted 32,000,000
more inches to the story.

Like most readers, 1 followed the drama
only through the headlines. Strung to-
gether, they had a plot:

“ABC WANTS NAMATH?”

IAMATH INTERESTED”

“АВС AND NAMATH TO TALK”

“OJ. WOULD WELCOME NAMATH

"GIFFORD SAYS NAMATH ONE OF A KIND”

“NAMATH CONFIRMS TALK WITH ABC”

“ABC AND NAMATH ‘CLOSE

“ABC WANTS NAMATH TO “BE HIMSELF”

“TLL BE MYSELF! SAYS NAMATH”

“NAMATH SIGNS FOR 31,000,000”

“АВС TO LAY OFF 4300 EMPLOYEES”

“NAMATH SAYS HE'LL BE PREPARED”

“NAMATH TO VISIT TRAINING САМР”?

“NAMATH TO INTERVIEW A PLAYER!”

“NAMATH TO USE М

“NAMATH ТО SPEAK ACTUAL WORDS!”
NAMATH SAYS ACTUAL WORDS INTO ACTUAL
MIKE, DIRECTLY POINTS OUT PRESENCE OF
TWO TEAMS ON FIELD!”

I don't mean to leave the impression
that I didn’t enjoy the way the sports
editors played the story. I enjoyed it

By DAN JENKINS

THE CONS OF
THE PROS

immensely, because, if anything, it helped
bring the N.F.L. closer to its impending
doom. Just off the top of my head, I can
think of only 2016 other reasons the public
will eventually agree with me about col-
lege football's being a better game. To list
only a few:

* The University of Alabama has never
moved its franchise from Tuscaloosa to
South Bend, Indiana, because of poor at-
tendance, while Notre Dame has refused
to move from South Bend to Palo Alto,
n order to have sky boxes.

* Colleges sensibly play football from
September through New Years Day,
whereas the N.F.L. plays from carly
August until all of the winter snow has
melted in Aspen and Sun Valley.

* In college football, more often than
not, a penalty for offensive holding is not.
left to the whim of a zebra who's having a
bank note called on him.

* No coach in college football wears a
hat like Tom Landry's.

* No college coach or athletic director,
throughout the entire history of football,
has ever been to as many society brunches
as Pete Rozelle.

* Athletes still make up the team in col-
lege football. This is the opposite of pro
football, a sport in which the "team" real-
ly consists of the owner, coach and general
manager. If a "team" begins to lose con-
sistently, the owner, coach and general

manager usually find themselves some
new hired help. The “team” stays; the
players go—unless the team is the New
York Giants, who tend to stay the same,
though they play football in New Jersey.
To cite just one collegiate example, the
Oklahoma Sooners differ from a club like
the N.Y.-N.J. Giants in that they don't
play their home games in Kansas.

• Bobby, Sonny, Billy and Alex—as in
Layne, Jurgensen, Kilmer and Hawkins—
don’t play pro football anymore. That's
sad, because they were the last guys who.
never knew what “closing time” meant
but still got the job done on Sunday.
Played by my rules.

* College teams almost never play foot-
ball on Monday night. Instead, college
players generally like to fondle Chi Ome-
gas and Тп Delts on Monday night
"There's something more American about
this.

* While college football admittedly has
even more playing fields made out of
painted asphalt than pro football has, it
still has fewer stadiums with a roof.

* College football has а rowdy, roman-
tic, colorful history. It goes back 50 years
before Knute Rockne, a fact that often
catches young sports editors by surprise.
The essential history of pro football begins
with Arthur Godfrey, peaks with Monty
Hall and seems to be winding down with
John Ritter.

* College football thrives on Army-
Navy, Texas-OU, Ohio State-Michigan,
Notre Dame-USC, Stanford-Cal, Geor-
gis Tonda, Alabama-Auburn, LSU-Ole
is. Pro football thrives on Summerall-
Mh

* College football has luscious cheer-
leaders, marching bands, rousing fight
songs. Pro football has Cabbage Patch
dolls on the side lines, factory workers in
the stands and 413 television time-outs.

* For the past 19 years, pro football has.
had the Super Bowl as its biggest moment,
during which time there have actually been
three and a half football games played.
Since the Twenties, college football has
averaged five Poll Bowls a season.

І could go on, but I have a plane to
catch. I want to visit the Pro Football Hall
of Fame in Canton, Ohio, again. It’s the
most moving experience you can have,
aside from reading the daily sport sections
that have been bought and paid for, one
way or another, by pro football.

Suicide really shouldn't be this
funny to watch,

45

PLAYBOY

SOMETHING: LEGENDARY HAS HAPPENED TO MUSK.

“Only, British Sterling, could create a musk this refined.
British Sterling Light™ Musk, the most subtle musk scent imaginable.
And British Sterling Imperial Musk-rich and elegant,
yet tastefully subdued.

BRITISH STERLING’ MUSK

The legend continues.

1985 Textron Inc Spill zara

W: may be heading back to a no-no

culture, the Land of Naughty:
Naughty Boo-Boo, a place of censors!
and deprivation where males will be told
to deny their very natures—and where
they will be punished by the Vision Police
for simply being themselves.

Do you go to the University of Wiscon-
sin? My older son tells me he can't buy
PLAYBOY at the student unions there. It’s
been banned. Do you live in Texas? A
friend called to say that a district attorney
in that state is planning to keep PLAYBOY off
the shelves. I reccived a news clip saying
that the board of directors of a West Coas
hospital has ordered that PLayBoy not be
sold in its shop.

The Vision Police are everywhere, it
seems.

It's really nothing new that this maga-
zine is running into opposition. But when I
hear that the guardians of public morality
are on the warpath and are banishing
PLAYBOY from the market place, I feel a cer-
tain chill in the air.

That chill comes from the gulf that
separates me from those who would tell
me that it is evil and unnatural for me to
enjoy reading PLAYBOY, that there is some-
thing wrong in looking at pictures of beau-
tiful women and that the text, cartoons,
art and graphics of this magazine are dan-
gerous to health and well-being.

Yes, Fm concerned about First Amend-
ment rights. But for me, the chill also
roars in from another direction: The femi-
nists and fundamentalists and right-wing-
ers who would ban PLAYBOY are essentially
trying to ban male genes.

We men are visual down to our genetic
code. Telling us not to look at something is
e telling us not to breathe. For the
healthy male, looking is living.

It starts carly, our way of viewing and
being. We are taught by our parents and
peers and society that itis our job to watch
out for oursclves, and we take that warn-
ing literally. We use our eyes the way our
predecessors did, the men from whom we
descend in our extended family ıree, the
hunters who searched the countryside for
game, the sailors who scanned horizons for
storms.

We come from a tribe called Men. Our
vision is an inherited characteristic that
leads into the center of our consciousness.
We use our eyes to stay out of trouble,
assess our environment, survive, protect,
defend, enjoy. Life is a feast for male
eyes, and there’s no reason we should
apologize for that

THE PLOT OF THE
VISION POLICE

In this strange culture, at this strange
time, there’s a movement afoot to
reprogram the male. Through rhetoric,
mockery, censorship and rejection, certain
segments of this society assume that they
can make men change, that our eyes can
be blinded and our natures neutered. But
these people do not understand what
makes us tick, and in their own
blindness—and possibly their own con-
fused sexuality—they attribute motives to
us that we do not possess.

Take a look at this month’s centerfold,
for example if you haven't already

Now, it will pain you to learn that the
December Playmate is a friend of mine. 1
get to see her on an almost daily basis,
because we work out at the same health
club. She’s attractive, funny, witty, in
shape, modest, realistic, a professional
model with solid standards of conduct

I like looking at Miss December. I like
her photos in the magazine and I like scc-
ing the real thing.

But listen: “What's wrong with
PLAYBOY? . . . Women and girls [sic] are
portrayed not as full human beings but as
sexual 'objects'—as breasts, vulva, but-
tocks. These ‘objects’ are presented as if
were unconditionally entitled to
them, as commodities that exist only to
satisfy men's sexual desires."

That's a quote from a leaflet published
by Women Against Pornography. Accord-

men

ing to them, the purpose of this magazine
is "to promote the oppression, degrada-
tion and dehumanization of women.”
PLAYBOY engages in “the graphic depiction
of female sexual slaves” and, in so doing,
it “contributes to the degradation of wom-
єп?з status in society.”

The Vision Police do not understand us,
but in their anger and conceit, they are
always willing to speak for us

When I look at Miss December, either
оп the page or in person, I do not assume
for a moment that she is a commodity for
my consumption or that I am uncondition-
ally (or conditionally, for that matter)
entitled to her in any fashion. I do not
envision her as a sexual slave, and in
appreciating her shape and form and
irit, I do not degrade her or humiliate
her. Lam, simply, a man who searches for
beauty wherever he can find it. That does
not make me a monster.

I learned early in my life that I loved
looking at this beautiful, terrible, joyful,
frightening world, And I also learned that
outsiders can truly misjudge the motives of
men. As a young punk from Chicago’s
South Side, I used to go to the Art Insti-
tute every chance I got. Without any
training or education, I fell in love with
the work of Van Gogh, Seurat, Monet,
Manet, and I would sit for hours studying
one or another painting, feeding my cycs
as I needed to do. But because I was
young and because 1 was not well dressed,
the institute guards would circle close to
me, clicking their crowd counters and
frowning at my leather jacket, boots, acne.
“Let's go, kid,” they would eventually say,
“move it along,” and they would usher me
out, not always politely.

T knew that they had dark visions of my
purpose. They thought that a delinquent
child was only waiting for the proper mo-
ment to raise havoc and create destruc-
tion, slash a painting or cause a scene.
Those Vision Police made the same mis-
take as the current ones: They forged their
own fantasies into my head and made
judgments they had no business making. 1
was—and am—finer and more focused
than they knew

Look, it’s simple. We men love to look.
You'll never stop us—not even if you hang
us for it.

And if it ever does come to that, do me
one last favor, will you? Make the job
of hangman (hangperson?) equal-oppor-
tunity employment. I wouldn't mind hav-
ing someone nice to look at before
she springs the trap. Ej

47

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WOMEN

С Тео has found another one.

“Our first date was heaven,” she
said to me. “We couldn't shut up. You
know how it is when you can’t shut up?
When everything about each other is of
scintillating interest? We stayed out until
four in the morning, giggling and chatter-
ing like gibbons.”

“So did you do it?” I asked, descending
to essentials.

“No, we didn’t, We decided it would be
better to hold off awhile, really get to know
each other. Prolong the anticipation.”

“And very smart, too. A girl can’t be
too careful these days. One doesn’t want to
be seduced and rejected.””

“Ha,” she said,

“What, ‘ha’?” I asked.

“I was really looking forward to our
next date. I mean, we were so hot for each
other, we could barely keep from jumping
into bed. Then he shows up at my door
with his thumb as big as his head.”

“Be serious.”

“So who's kidding? It was a staph infec-
tion or something equally sinister. He was
gobbling antibiotics and in awful pain. But
Lam a mature woman. I did not immedi-
ately accuse him of growing another head
simply to dash my sexual hopes.”

“Well, of course not. It could happen to
anyone. Sometimes your thumb just turns
into a balloon. It doesn't mean. . . .”

“On our next date, he had developed a
terrible stomach virus,” she said flatly,
“and on the one after that, his back went
out. I had to drive him to the chiropractor,
who actually made a point of telling me to
make sure he didn’t get too frisky.”

“Oh, Jesus fucking hell, Cleo. This is
not what our mommas brought us up to
expect. We are talking here of extremely
pitiful behavior. More coffee?”

“Sure,” she said. "1 like caffeine jitters.
They're my major stimulation these
days.”

We sat and sipped morose coffee in my
kitchen. “Cleo,” I suddenly piped up,
“you don’t think maybe it’s a real, truc
series of catastrophes? Unrelated inci-
dents? A strange astrological configuration
and nothing whatsoever to do with this
man’s trying to avoid a relationship:

“Not a ghost of a chance in a million,”
she stated. “It’s a pattern. A sicko, pa-
thetic, perverted, psychopathic, mind-
lessly addled and profoundly disturbing
little way of mine. I have now spent almost
15 years yearning for men who couldn't or
wouldn't be there for me.

By CYNTHIA HEIMEL

YEARNING: .
A DREAD CLICHÉ

“Withholding men, every one of them.
Either disappointing me by not showing
up when they say they will or leaving me
alone just when I need them most or sud-
denly moving to Los Angeles and taking
up with starlets. Somehow, I am always
surprised and disappointed and aban-
doned. Му worst fears are always realized.

“I used to think it was because I was
unlovable. Now I realize that I've devel-
oped а finely honed, incredibly precise and
accurate detection system for ferreting out
the best specimens of men who won’t come
through.”

“Ever thought of marketing this gift?” |
queried. “Putting ads in the paper? “Girls:
Sick of men slobbering on your ankles and
mussing up your hair with unwanted
caresses? Women: Tired of men who
besiege your home with boxes of fattening
chocolates and armloads of pollen-riddled
flowers, not to mention long-winded love
letters? Ladies: Fed up to the tecth with
men who won't go away and treat you like
a goddess? Call us! We will, in a flash, find
you a withholding man! A man who will
never leave unsightly dents in your bed
pillows! Dissatisfaction guaranteed!“

“I could clean up,” decided Cleo.

“No you couldn't," I said. “You're bor-
ing; you're a cliché. Thousands of country
songs have been written concerning your
plight; also, at least nine out of ten Holly-
wood movies—although in the movies, the

yearning always pays off. Which is the
worst disservice that Hollywood has per-
petrated against the unsuspecting pub-
lic—creating the completely unrealistic
expectation of a happy ending. Face it:
This neurosis of yours is plain tedious
Everybody wants what she can’t have. It’s
the American way."

“Let's go get drunk, you callous, cyni-
cal, misbegotten excuse for a friend,” she
said.

We repaired to the Lion’s Head, a haven
for melancholic writers, actors on the
verge of their big break and sozzled phi-
losophers. Cleo, with her shining blonde
hair and drop-dead legs, caused her usual
stir among the still-rational men, and, as
usual, she didn’t notice.

“I think it must have been listening to
all those Bob Dylan records during my
formative years,” she said, sipping deli-
cately on her double tequila. “Now, there
was a yearning son of a bitch. Always wait-
ing for Johanna to show up or pining for
Sara. The guy turned his pain into high
art and millions of dollars, and 1 gobbled
him whole. Many a night I would stay
home with Bob, singing along with his
laments and falling madly in love with my
own melancholy. І ат not a well woman. I
used to think he was singing just for me.”

“As did every other woman under 25
during the Sixties. Cleo, this phenomenon
is not unique.”

“What is this abuse? I need thi:

I'm not so spe
still chronically
want to be. You just can’t stand to listen
because you're the same way.”

“Moi?”

“Tot. Here you are in your mid-30s,
you've had the longest string of lovers of
any woman extant and you've never really
been in love in your life. Nobody ever
touches you. A nice fellow falls for you and
you decide that his goddamn nose is too
big or quibble with his hairdo. Face it,
doll: We're two goddamn peas in a pod.
We аге living examples of the old Sigmund
Freud-Groucho Marx-Woody Allen joke:
We never want to belong to a club that
would have us as a member. Only what we
can't have is good enough for us. We're so
scared of intimacy, we pick only guys who
we're sure won't get too close."

“Oh, Jesus, Cleo, people write pop-psy-
chology books about this. Are we such
stereotypes?”

“Course we are,” she said, order-
Равена степа 8

49

BLENDED SC (SKY 86 В PROOF. IMPORTED BY DISTILLERS SOMERSET. NX, МС 1985.

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SEND А GIFT DF JOHNNI
CALL 1-800-243-3787 VOID

AGAINST THE WIND

S everal months ago, in a column called
“Bonehead Writing" (глуво, Au-
gust), I said I didn’t think there was one
teacher in a thousand who knew the first
damn thing about writing. I called them
“lettered fools” and said some other mean
things about the way they try to teach
their students to boil information and
experience into written words. I had a lot
of fun saying the things 1 did, and I still be-
lievethey’retrue. Mostly. However, notlong
after the column was published, I got a let-
ter that proved the exception. In spades.

It was from an English professor named
Mary Smith at Nebraska Wesleyan Uni-
versity, and besides showing off what she
obviously knows about writing, she made
a stunning personal connection for me in
what she wrote. With her letter she
included a piece of prose, a short reminis-
cence about a man she'd lived with for the
last years of his life: my uncle Jim.

Jim was a powerful character for me,
though I seldom saw him more than once a
year. Physically, he was a small, puckish
man, and I don’t ever remember seeing
him without several books under his arm.
They scemed to grow there, as did the
bracelet of rubber bands around his wrist,
which he used as place markers. He wore
jeans, a jean jacket and moccasins every
day, all year, and I remember stories
about the trauma of buying him a suit so
he could go off to New York to accept the
first of two Edgars that the Mystery Writ-
ers of America awarded him for his column
in the Chicago Sun-Times. Raymond
Chandler presented him with the little
statue and, in fact, the two of them for
years carried on a spirited correspondence
about the art of the mystery story.

Brilliant was a word that was used often
on Uncle Jim from the time he was about
four years old, according to my mother, his
sister. And like many people who suffer
that description, he seemed to me to be
pretty much both blessed and cursed at
the same time for as long as he lived, Mary
Smith was clearly one of his great bless-
ings, and it's hard for me to imagine that
anything else ever written about him will
catch his moody, impish spirit quite as
perfectly as she has done in the small por-
trait she sent mc.

In her letter, she said that as student
writers go, hers were pretty good at th
routine assignments. “They can fill out
forms and write term papers in sociology
and other lies,” she said. Then she cut to
the heart of the rouble with both writing

By CRAIG VETTER

and trying to teach it. “Му problem is to.

get them to be honest, to let the process of

writing inform them how they feel and

what they think. And it is painful. I wrote

along with them to keep me humble. A

couple of years ago, I told them to write

about something that hurt or embarrassed

them: I wrote about Jim. Here's a copy.”
It's untitled.

He died five years ago in May, so
perhaps it is time I tried to recapture
him on paper, this man who shared
with me the last five years of his life.
James Sandoe. James Sayre Sandoe,
son ofa pencil salesman and an opera
singer, Stanford graduate, actor, di-
rector, critic of the mystery story, wit,
scholar, lush. He сате to Lincoln,
after retiring from the University
of Colorado, to spend Thanksgiv-
ing vacation with an old friend and
new lover; he stayed five years.

Words danced for him, moved
across the surface of his mind as his
actors moved across the stage in deli-
cate and intricate patterns. Above all
else ће loved language; I remember
him, half-drunk and wholly naked,
leaping from the bed where he had
been about to pay me proper atten-
tion to try once more for the perfect
reading of “anyone lived in a pretty
how town.” His priorities, as I told
him, were always in order. 1 remem-

ber him best at night, talking, always
talking, about Shakespeare, about
acting, about the mystery story,
about theater, about anything and
everything that had to do with words.
I remember his hatred of slovenly dic-
tion and his impatience with slovenly
thought. I have seen him flinch in
pain, sometimes, from the bright per-
fection of a phrase that sliced to the
bone; mestly I remember а fierce joy
burning through the frailty of flesh.

For the flesh was frail, battered by
years of heavy drinking and heavy
smoking. Yet when it became clear
that the best gift he could give me was
his continued existence, he gave up
both, at once and to the end of his life,
even though the shock to his system
was severe enough to hospitalize him
fora time.

He could be difficult, as we all can
be. I remember days of surly depres-
sion as his books and papers began to
arrive from Boulder, packed up and
sent by his second wife, who had
pushed him out of the house in
despair of his drinking. As we sorted
papers and shelved books and put his
Indian rugs down on the study floor,
I knew what was happening to him.
Our whole amour was losing its
charming sense of slapstick improvi-
sation and taking on an alarming air
of permanence, like those Quonset
huts that went up on campuses as
temporary housing during World War
Two and stayed there forever, rusting
gently under the ivy. But we could
always talk it out, always laugh at
ourselves and each other.

A gift, those five years, totally
unexpected and undeserved, I 44, he
64, old cnough to know better, a men-
opausal Romeo and Juliet. Gro-
tesque, Jim called it, and wonderful.
He loved words, and he loved me, in
that order. When he lay dying i
hospital—a mercifully short time—I
read to him, more for my comfort
than his, Prospero’s great coda, “Our
revels now are ended." I had thought
him in coma, but he was not, not yet;
he looked at me for one last time and
said gently, "You could have sharp-
ened the shading a bit.”

He had, as always, his priorities
straight.

51

к
o
а
>
Gd
ы
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© Loiilord, U.S.A.. 1985

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Its a Technics 26-inch (measured diagonally) color TV monitor/
receiver. A Technics VHS Hi-Fi video cassette recorder. An AM/FM
stereo tuner/pre-amp with stereo TV sound.* Power amplifier. Linear
tracking turntable. Auto-reverse cassette deck. A pair of three-way
speakers. Even an optional compact disc player. +
Its unified wireless remote lets you control this technological empire ч
from across the room. The remote has its own LCD readout to show
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Technics

The science of sound

THE PLAYBOY ADVISOR

FRccently, one of my lovers gave me a
pair of ben-wa balls, which I had wanted
for a long time. 1 was quite excited by the
idea, so as soon as he gave them to me, I
inserted them. We were out and about,
and as I walked down the street, 1 could
feel one slipping out. Fortunately, there
was a hotel nearby and I was able to duck
into the bathroom before it fell onto the
sidewalk (which might have marred its
gold-plated finish). Anyway, I am having
the damnedest time keeping them in, and
when they do stay in, I don’t notice. I was
expecting a continuous turn-on, even look-
ing forward to wearing them to the office.
So what am I doing wrong? And can they
harm me in any way or cut down on my
sensitivity during “normal” lovemaking?
Please explain what they are supposed to
do.— Miss L. G., Berkeley, California
Ben-wa balls are a safety hazard, no
doubt. The damned things fall ош at the odd-
est times. Мапух the lime we've spied a
golden sphere ricocheting down the escalator
at the local shopping mall. It's always a
minor scene: "Excuse me, miss. . . .” Suppos-
edly, the vibrations of the balls’ clicking
together will drive a woman to erotic frenzy.
Guess again. Probably the only use for the lit-
tle buggers is to exercise the pubococcygeus
muscle—i.e., the clenching needed to keep
them in is a great move during lovemaking.

Even though my girlfriend and I both
make enough money to travel wherever we
please, I'm the sort who is just as happy in
a tiny inn as іп a five-star hotel. She, on
the other hand, demands full-tilt luxury,
зо we usually compromise and do it her
way. Lately, that means we head off to
Europe, especially France and Italy. I'm
not complaining (much), but I would like
to convince her that it’s possible to have a
high-class holiday here in the good old
U.S. of A. I'm looking for something
classy but still fun and informal. Got any
ideas?—N. S., San Diego, California.

As it happens, we have some friends who
are known for their ability to absorb large
doses of hedonism and come back to tell the
tale. They report that perhaps the most glori-
ous, self-indulgent, yet laid-back vacation
they've ever had was several days spent wan-
dering in Northern California wine country,
especially in the Napa and Sonoma valleys.
For starters, book a room at the new Auberge
du Soleil, which is high atop a Napa hillside
in an olive grove (remember Tuscany, mia
cara?), or at Villa St. Helena, a sprawling
brick mansion across the valley with an
equally spellbinding view. If just one place
won't do, be aware that six wine-country inns
have banded together to form a Route du Vin
and you can book any number of them on suc-
cessive nights by calling 707-575-7350. If
all else fails (the area is very popular in the
fall during harvestlime), call Accommodation

Referral at 707-944-8891 and tell them you
want something that makes the house in “Fal-
con Crest” look like a bungalow. The logical
thing to do during the day is visit the dozens
of wineries in the area, most of which have
regular visiting hours. Probably the best
guide for grape nuts is the 1985 edition of
“The Wine Spectator Wine Maps,” which
also lists dining places and accommodations.

But no matter where else you drop in, don't
miss a stop at Domaine Chandon for some
superb sparkling wine and, just up the road,
at Robert Mondavi for the very best wine-
making tour. If you survive all this sipping
and strolling, the Napa Valley also offers
rides in а hot-air balloon or а sailplane and a
dip in an allegedly therapeutic mud bath.

And if too much pleasure is not enough, end
your trip by driving to the sea through the
redwood groves that line the Russian River

Book into the Timber Cove Inn, which is
perched right over the thundering Pacific
near Jenner. Ask for a room with a hot tub
and an ocean view, then uncork a bottle of
wine you've had the foresight to carry along
from wine country. Salut!

M туз ата (кзз Бес lovers far
two years, and our sex life is both scintil-
lating and satisfying. What, then, is the
problem? Fortunately, nothing too severe,
but one that causes him some anxict
nonetheless: He claims he does not come
as much as he used to. Im not referring
to the frequency, mind you, but to the
amount of ejaculate. 1 can't imagine why
that should bother him, since the intensity
of his orgasm is not at all affected, Gould
there be a physiological reason for this?
Docs the amount of semen diminish as one
grows older? He is 26 years old. Does fr
quency of sex pertain? Any light you can

shed on this would be appreciated. The
fewer anxieties we have in starting our
marriage, the better'—Miss B. G., New
York, New York

Frequency diminishes the volume of ejacu-
late. If he's getting и more but enjoying it less,
simply cut down on your activily—or realize
that is normal and fuck your brains out,
worry-free.

Hive in a climate with dificult winter-
driving conditions, and I’m thinking of
investing in some kind of four-wheel drive.
The problem is, I hate trucks and I'm a
little wary of 4wd cars. What’s your
recommendation?—T. J., Gary, Indiana.

We think 4wd cars are one of the most
promising things since birth control. For bad
winters or even the occasional ski trip, they
can't be beat. They drive almost as well as
their two-wheel-drive counterparts (and gel
nearly the same fuel economy) when it’s dry
but can run rings around anything else on
the road—in carlike quiet, comfort and
safety —when the going gets slick. Some have
part-time {ud (select it only when you need
и); others, such as the Audis and VWs, boast
full-time systems that you never have to think
about. None is intended for serious off-road
thrashing, but all will lake you just about
anywhere you want to go, road or no road.
Just be careful, and remember: The only bad
thing about 4wd is that it can get you stuck a
lot farther from help.

This problem is driving me crazy; maybe
you can help. Гус come to call it the
big-brother syndrome, though what
amounts to is my not being able to get a
date with a woman more than once or
twice. I’m not ugly, or so I’ve been told by
some very attractive women. І dress nicely
and can hold intelligent conversations
with women, but that doesn’t зест to be
enough. I've never tried to get a woman
into bed unless it's been obvious that’s
what she has wanted. In fact, I’m pretty
much the perfect gentleman. The women 1
have dated are still very good friends but
just treat me like a big brother. Гуе even
been told by a few ex-dates that that is
how they feel. So what’s a guy to do? Do I
have to come on as an arrogant snob who
icws women as nothing but sex objects to
continue a relationship or do 1 become a
monk?—B. L., Tampa, Florida.

You can't fall in love or even mild lust with
every member of the opposite sex you happen
to meet, so there's nothing wrong with being a
big brotherlfriend. This shows that. you're
capable of relating well to women, which is a
significant first step. And friendships some-
limes do catch fire and become romances.
However, if you're looking for more ina rela
tionship, try being a bit more assertive and see
what happens. The problem with being a per-
fect gentleman is that you treat your date with

PLAYBOY

the same courtesy with which you treat the
doorman. You've got to focus your attention.
If you want to tear her clothes off, tell her.
You don't have to go to the extremes described
in your letter—in fact, such behavior would
undoubtedly backfire—but it couldn't hurt to
let a woman in whom you're interested know
about your feelings. Leave the perfect gentle-
man at home. Let the animal ош a little.

WI, wire and I have a fantastic sex life.
My problem is my pipe. I first smoked a
Longchamps when I was stationed in
France with the U.S.A.F. I have smoked a
leather-covered pipe since. In time, the
leather shrinks. Is there a way to get more
life out of the leather?—H. W., Harlingen,
Texas.

One of the problems with the once popular
Longchamps pipes was the inevitable wearing
ашау of their leather covering. Tobacco and
pipe merchants recommend smoking the pipe
slowly, so as not to heat it up too quickly;
aside from that, there is little you can do to
protect the leather.

AAs a general form of etiquette, shouldn't
men be more aware of how their pubic
areas look? I am living with a man who
has extremely long testicle hair that I ask
him to trim. He insists that no male does
this. What do you think?—Miss J. A.,
Lansing, Michigan.

For general rules of etiquette, consult Miss
Manners. Shell probably recommend climb-
ing into bed with pinking shears. We side with
your friend. The next thing you know, you'll
be asking him to let you braid his pubic hair
into dreadlocks—or with cute little bows. We
say drop the matter or trim it with your teeth
when he's preoccupied.

Mr my letter sounds too silly, obvious or
naive, just chalk it up to a lack of experi-
ence. Pm a 17-year-old female who has
had sex several times, but not with guys
who have done it much before, if you know
what I mean. There’s one part I’m not
sure my current lover and I are doing
right. He and I have done it in at least a
dozen imaginative positions, with my
favorite being doggy style, because as we
fuck this way, he can use his hand to stim-
ulate my clitoris—an action that greatly
enhances my pleasure! But my question
concerns the standard, face-to-face mis-
sionary position. Can you help us figure
out whether or not мете doing it right?
‘The part I’m confused about is the role of
the clitoris when we have sex in this posi-
tion. Is something supposed to happen to
Normally, the only place I can feel him
in this position is in my vagina—there's
not enough sensation to make me
climax—and no part of him touches my
clit unless it’s cither of our hands, at my
request. Whenever Im on top, I manage
to rub my clitoris on his pubic bone and
thus bring myself to orgasm, but as I said,
the problem lies in the missionary posi-
tion. I think I could enjoy that so much
more if only some part of him меге stimu-

lating that all-important sensitive spot of
mine. Is there a different way to do it so
my clitoris will be stimulated in this posi-
tion, or shall I resign myself to the 9999
other styles we are trying onc by onc? Any

help would be greatly appreciated!—Miss
C. A., New York, New York.
Actually, you're јату typical. Many

women find it difficult to reach orgasm in the
missionary position for the very reason you
mention—lack of clitoral stimulation. “Rid-
ing high” or doing a pubic grind instead of
thrusting may ада stimulation. Extended
foreplay before use of the missionary position
may help, but otherwise, you or he may want
to “lend a hand” to help you climax. Since
you have no difficulty reaching orgasm in
other positions, we suggest thal you and your
boyfriend continue to let variety be the spice
of life. And while we don't mean to lecture,
we assume that you're practicing safe and
effective birth control to avoid an unwanted
pregnancy al your age.

have heard that you can increase the
highs in your tape recording by adjusting the
deck for a lower bias than called for with
a given kind of tape. Do you agree?—T. B.,
Phoenix, Arizona.

When you use a bias current that is too high
for a given tape (overbiasing), you reduce the
ultimate high-frequency response as well as
the maximum recording level of which the
tape is capable. When you use too low a bias
current (underbiasing), you can increase the
high-frequency response, but you will also
raise the distortion and mess up the signal-to-
noise ratio. Exactly that kind of chicanery has
been used in the past to convince a buyer that
а tape deck had “plenty of highs.” It has also
been used by some adventurous souls as a way
of recording more highs for tapes thal were lo
be played back on portables or car stereos. It’s
really a shoddy practice, and with today's
improved equipment it hardly is necessary,
since many recent portables and most car ster-
eos do have inherently improved high-fre-
quency capability when used with the correct
bias called for with a given tape. So our
answer to the question Should 1 under-
bias for more highs? is, simply, Don't. Just
follow the instructions on the tape package.

How can 1 get my husband more inter-
ested in lengthy foreplay? We've been mar-
ried ten terrific years and enjoy frequent
sex; we both exercise to keep our figures
trim and are very sexually attracted to
each other, as well as deeply in love. I
believe he enjoys all aspects of our sex life,
but 1 have a major complaint. It takes me
a long time to reach a climax. When I
masturbate, with intense mental and ph:
ical stimulation, I reach the most inci
ble climaxes known to woman. Duri
lovemaking with my husband, when he's
patient and allows me to take my time, I
enjoy the same terrific and sati
orgasms, especially when we get
position where 1 can manually stimulate
myself while he’s inside me. Unfortu-
nately, we don’t always seem to have the

time it takes for me to come. Half of the
time (yes, halft), 1 end up faking my
orgasms, because I sense that he’s get
tired of waiting and is losing interest. I
start to feel guilty for tal
can по longer enjoy myself. When his
interest wanes, believe me, it's noticeable,
no matter how hard he tries not to show

I should mention that my husband
works long hours and has a long commute
every day. He's always tired, so when we
make love during the week, I feel espe-
cially guilty if I take too long, as if 'm
depriving him of precious sleep. On the
weekends, he has more energy and
patience, yet I still feel the same sense of
guilt. Do you have any exciting sugges-
tions to keep him interested in longer
intercourse? Short of a shot of speed, 15
there some way to make him hold out
without losing patience? 1 don't exacıly
take forever. I consider ten minutes fast,
15 minutes average, 20 to 25 minutes a
long time. (By his standards, that is. If it
were up to те, Fd prefer an hour of fore-
play and intercourse, or as long as we
could stand it!) I always enjoy your
snappy one-liners when you're addressing
questions in this column, but I hope you'll
give me a scrious answer. I suspect there
are other women experiencing this prob-
lem who'd appreciate some expert advice.
"Thanks!— Mrs. A. S., Anaheim, California.

The nine-to-five daily grind is the enemy of
good sex. Rather than find something more
exciting, you have to work on the mam
enemies—lension and exhaustion. Take a
look at your after-work routine. It’s probably
just thal—routine: а few drinks, a meal,
some more drinks and then television. This is
hardly the kind of surface that provides the
traction needed for good sex. Our advice: Do
something physical at the end of a workday—
jog, play tennis, swim, try full-contact karate,
and then give your husband a half hour or so
of nonsexual massage. If you get into the
habit of spending time touching each other in
nonsexual ways, it's pretty easy to segue into
some leisurely lovemaking. Expecting him to
be able to perform on demand ts unrealistic.
Don't rely on his being inside of you to have
ап orgasm. He can hold you while you play
with a vibrator and join in if he's interested,
abstain if he’s not. You can watch a porn
movie together on the VCR, just to set а sex-
ual mood for an hour at a time. Try sex in the
morning, when you're both fresh. (You can
wake up a bit early, masturbate, then jump
his bones as you're ready to climax.) There are
many solutions. lore them.

АШ reasonable questions—from fashion,
food and drink, stereo and sports cars to dating
problems, taste and etiquette—will be person-
ally 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.

Fly First Class.

Wild Turkey. It’s not the best because it’s expensive.
It’s expensive because it’s the best.

Now you can send a gilt of Wild Turkey" 101 Proof anywhere" by phone through Nationwide Gilt Liquor. Call Toll Free 1800-CHEER-UP
(Arizona 602-957-4923). ° Except where prohibited. Major credit cards accepted. Austin, Nichols Distilling Co. Lawrenceburg. KY ©) 1985.

PLAYBOY

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vue Pulsar watches

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All Locations

Pasadena & South Bay
Indian Hills Mall, Pomona.
903 Gth Ave. San Diego

fe S Verein, Los Angeles
366 South Tustin Ave.. Orange
MSN аһ St. Sanu Апа

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124 Mill St. Grass Valley
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Main st, Stockton

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Trückee & Tahoe City

167 Vintage Faire Mall, Modesto.
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Kentucky St, Bakersteld
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259 Calif, Woodland

Dublin

Horton Plaza

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MRRARS 37 Fast State street, Redlands
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GREG JEWELERS. Canyon Country
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INTERCHRON JEWELERS 31931 Camino Capistrano
TAKES JEWELERS Main St. Delano
TANS JEWELER: 13109 Hawthorne Bhd, Hawthorne
TESS MARIN. Fishion Plaza West Covina
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KARKAZIAN JEWELERS, Fresno and Clovis
KEARLEY S JEWELERS Santa Monica.
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Northridge

Victorville & Hesperia.

Santa Monica

Whittwood Mall, Whittier

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All Locations

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Central Ciny San Bernardino.
мач Fark St, Alameda.

All Locations

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CLOCKS LIMITED. Englewood

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BOBS JEWEL

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ELITE JEWELERS Times Square

GOLDEN BOUTIQUE "Two Locations

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SCHAPELLS JEWELERS, 330 Main, Earmington
WOODYS JEWELRY A 17 2nd st, Portales
ZALES Ў Mos Locations

•
е at s
e.

OKLAHOMA
BELLS JEWELERS 125 Nonh Grand, Enid
GARMAN JEWELERS Woodward
GENJEWELERS Ada
CRAY SEWERS Tuba & Бапкзуйе
HARVEYS DIAMONDS & GIFTS Мат
KITCHENS JEWELERS
KLARS JEWELERS Okmulgee

McCOYS JEWELERS Cushing

MEADIEWELERS Woodward
MISION JEWELERS All Locations
MOODYS JEWELRY ‚All Locations.
SPRAYS JEWELERS û E. Grand, Ponca Cite
WHITES MIDWEST JEWELERS Gathrie
JEW 1 Main, Guymon

All Locations,

ZELLERS JEWELRY AIS N Main. Guymon
TEXAS
ACCUTYME WATCH & CLOCK Town & Си Mall
ACCUTYME OF BAYDROOK MALL Friendswood
ALIEN & CASPERSEN JEWELERS їш Milam
ALENANDRES Raymondville
BALLAN JEWELERS League City
BAHLMAN 1065 Main St Winters
BARNHAKT JEWELERS. Pearsall
BARON SJEWELERS Ali Locations
BARROWS JEWELERS Bonham
BAY AREA JEWELERS Baybrock, Friendswood
BILL GIBSON JEWELRY Waco
BLOONINGDALES. Valley View
‘CAND AJEWELERS OLE Main Allen
‘CARLYLE AND СО. Parücipating Locations
CAKROLLS JEWELRY ‘Wharton
CAANAUGES JEWELERS
CHAMBERS JEWELERS FC Non.
CUNTS JEWELRY. Cosicana
DALLAS GOLD AND SILVER All Locations
DARVINS FINE JEWELRY Like Air Mall
DORER JEWELERS Fredericksbu
E EIRY Spicewood Springs
J Kerrville
FERGESON JEWELERS 802 E. Gravis, San Diego
КОБУЗ Sixteen Locations
38 Pioneer Раб ау Adlington
FULLER JEWELERS Five Texas Locations
(GEORGE ALAN JEWELERS 603 W inh, Houston
GOLD MASTER Austin
HAMILTONS Halleaswille
HIASHION BY MORALES. Pasadena
J BEODINSON JEWELERS. ~All Locations
JEFFSJEWEIRY 519 Nain St., Borger
JEVELBOX AIL Locations
JEWELKY DESIGAS UNLIMITED ‘Mesquite
JINSJEWELLY iino
JOE SCHWARTZ 501A Gateway W, El Paso
JOHNSTON JEWELKY Sherman
KARALIS WATCH SHOP Val Gulf Freeway
KESTNERS FINE JEWELRY Waco
а Tastrop.
Five Texas Locations
TÈN Broadway San Antonio
1919 Shepherd, Houston
LIVINGSTON JEWELERS Livingston
LLOYDS JEWELERS Seven Locnions
LLOYD'S JEWELERS Corpus christ
MATHEWS JEWELERS ‘orange
MATHIS JEWELRY А GIFTS T9? of Westheimer
MILTONS Сузы! City
MISSION JEWELERS All Locations
MORASJEWELERS Adlington
[NATHANS JEWELERS Brownwood
NATHANS JEWELERS, San Angelo
NAZAR JEWELRY 5431 Antoine. Houston.
OAKRIDGE JEWELRY NZ N Jupiter, Garland
PAGLLS JEWELRY Temple
HALLS JEWELERS Dallas and Duncanville
PERDUESJEWELRY Crocket
roas 216 Austin, Lamesa
RED REPAIR SERVICE. Bassett Cielo, Vista
REINERS INC a16 Main, Houston
ROBERTS COMPANY 805 W Pipeline, Hurst
ROBERTS JEWELERS ‘Del kio
SALEM'S JEWELRY Marble Falls
SARGENTS биз олег Lane. Dallas
SCARDROUGHS JEWELERS Моя Locations
SEEDS JEWELERS Gainesville
SEGNER JEWELRY INC. кедеп
SEIGELS JEWELRY Round Rock
SHAW’S JEWELERS Fire San Antonio Locations
STANETELDSJEWELERS ^
SWWINDUE JEWELERS Stephenville
TADERS JEWELERS Most Locations
THAMES JEWELRY, Hamilton
THE PENDULUM Valley View Mall, Dallas
TOPAZ језику 304 Park, Lyford
WEAH JEWELRY ти Suh st
WELDON JEWELERS Four Valley Locations
LES JEWELERS. 1021 So. Ciosner, Edinburg,
WRIGHT JEWELERS 219 N. Main, Pleasanton,
ZALES Most Locations
UTAH
ADAMS JEWELERS Мата & Park City
BULLOCK & LOSEE JEWELERS Provo Orem
TAKKHALSER JEWELRY Salt Lake Сиу
SIERRAWEST DIAMONDS Provo & Vernal
THOMAS JEWELERS Logan. Ogden, Higham
TIME SHOP JEWELERS DW South, Temple
WESTS JEWELERS Ogden City Mall, Ogden
ZALES Participating Locations

ZCMI FINE JEWELRY DEPT. АЙ Locations

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PLAYBOY

60

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DEAR PLAYMATES

The ques

Could you live with a man who had
custody of his children?

m of the month:

Beire 1 got married and had a child of
my own, I lived with a man who had two
kids. They were a lot of fun. I probably
moved in be-

cause of the
kids. It was like
getting a read:
made famil

If
the kids are fun
and if they like

you, then it’s
no problem. If
I hadn't liked
them or they
hadn't liked
me, I couldn't
have done it.
Getting to know the children before you
make a decision like that is the most
important part of making that decision.
After all, you will be sharing your space
with them as much as you are asking them
to share their dad with you.

8

TRACY VACCARO
OCTOBER 1983

LR

М.Җ. Im not ready to get married or feel
married. Therefore, I’m not ready for chil-
dren. Both marriage and children are far
from my mind. Even if I loved the guy, I
would rather he
lived with his
kids and Га
spend as much
time with them
as I could, but
I wouldn't live
with them. I
have so many
things I want to
do in my life, so
many goals. I
have room in
my life for a
serious relationship. I'm definitely a onc-
man woman. I like to have a special man
whom I can count on and sec regularly,
but I need to feel independent, too. I'd like
to think being honest would be a plus, not
a minus, to him.

Senat
LIZ STEWART
JULY 1984

That's a hard question. I think I could if
I really loved the man and felt ready to be
a mother to his children. But this kind of
decision would take a lot of long dis-
cussions before I could move in. It would
be easier if the children were young. 1
could help raise
them. They
would grow
up with те
around. It isn’t

casy to be a
stepparent ol
either sex. It’s

harder to build
a relationship
with a child
who's not your
own. If 1 didn't
like the chil-
dren at all, Га have to do some serious
negotiating with the man in my life to see if
we could come to any agreements about
the things the children were doing that
troubled me. He'd have to be willing to

compromise, too. "

PATTY DUFFEK

AY 1984

Wl could move in with a guy who had cus-
tody of his kids, depending on the age of
the children. If they were older, say 12 and
up, they'd probably be old enough to
understand the on. If they

younger, Га
worry about
how much they
could under-
stand. A girl-
friend —not
a wife—may
create an un-
healthy en-
vironment for
young children.

situati

were

I think ki
need а i
base in

lives, and it would be difficult for someone
to move into their home and discipline
them unless she was very committed to the
project. We would all have to do a lot of
talking together before 1 could agree to it
The last thing I'd want to do is get into a
tug of war with the children over their own
mother versus me,

OCTOBER 1984

Û lived with a тап who had partial cus-
Cto во clita, I Is) trem exc
summer. It was a wonderful learning exp
rience. I got the chance to be a part of a
family, and 1 really enjoyed it. I think

there are real
advantages 10

younger сі

dren. They
haven't had as
much time (о

develop resent-
ments, On the
other hand, if
the children
had something
againsı you,
that would be
very hard on
your relationship with your man, because
the children are part of his life and always
will be, no matter what. If уоште lucky,
that doesn’t happen and the children add
to your life together.

LESA ANN PEDRIANA
APRIL 1984

Vis, because to get custody in the first
place, he must be doing something right.
He must be a good father. Um young,
though, only 23, so we'd have to have a
nanny or someone to care for the children.
It would be
casier for mc to
get along with
younger kids. IF
he had children
close to me in
age, that could
be hard. They
might rebel
against Dad for
living with a
very young
woman and not
see me as an
thority figure. Who'd want to take
orders from a contemporary? 1 think the
younger the children, the better. So far, I
haven't run into this situation. But you
never know. I’m willing to consider it

5 VENICE KONG
SEPTEMBER 1985

Send your questions to Dear Playmates,
Playboy Building, 919 North Michigan Ave-
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able to answer every question, but we'll try.

61

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THE PLAYBOY FORUM

a continuing dialog on contemporary issues between playboy and its readers

PLANNING AHEAD

A 36-year-old female special-education
consultant in San Jose, California, has
been charged with molesting one or more
adolescent males and with writing $60,000
worth of bad checks to buy expensive gifts
for six boys, ranging in age from 11 to 15.

Ifanybody bothers honestly to ask those
kids whether or not they really feel
molested, isn't it likely that at least some of
them will say that their experiences were a
dream come true?

To paraphrase Sir Walter Scott’s Lay of
the Last Minstrel (pun noted):

Where is the lad with id so dead,
He's never lusted in his head

At watching sprightly teachers pass
As he sat indolent in class?

I'm also reminded of an anecdote, cur-
rent some time ago, about a famous inter-
national beauty, well past her prime but
fondly remembered. An overnight guest,
in gratitude, wished to leave her some
token of esteem, but the lady, a superstar
and wealthy in her own right, asked for
nothing but a pocketknife. The guest,
intrigued, desired to know what possible
use this sophisticated and exquisite crea-
ture might have for such a commonplace
object. The lady opened a dresser drawer
and showed him an almost overflowing
collection of every variety of the homely
device. “Someday,” she said, “I shall be
old and no longer as attractive as now. I
think it best that I prepare myself for that
eventuality. A 15-year-old boy will do
anything for a pocketknife.”

Wherever she is now, I hope she is
happy, and I hope she never runs out of
pocketknives.

Clifford L. Wolf
Pacific Grove, California

EQUAL JUSTICE

1 have trouble understanding two recent
events. In Texas, Jesse De La Rosa was
executed for his part in the robbery of a
convenience store in San Antoni which
the clerk was killed. De La Rosa was put
to death by lethal injection, the state tak-
ing care to see that the killing was саг
out as humanely as possible. He died May
15, 1985, at Huntsville.

In Florida, about the same time, a 75-
year-old retired engineer named Roswell
Gilbert was convicted of murder and sen-
tenced to 25 years in jail with no possi-
bility of parole. His victim was his
73-year-old wife, terminally ill Кот
Alzheimer's disease and suflering great
pain from broken bones in her spine.
According to news rcports, she had been
pleading with him to help her die, until

finally, he propped her up on a couch and
shot her in the head with a pistol.

To me, the most horrible thing about
Gilbert's deed was that he had to use а
gun instead of a humanely administered
lethal injection. Those who approve of the
death penalty probably believe that De La
Rosa got what he deserved. No one who
can put himself in the place of that poor
woman's husband can believe that Gilbert
deserved what he got

Pat Penrod
San Antonio, Texas

“Publishers sanitize
their books to make them
palatable for the

most naive readers.”

BOWDLERIZING BOOKS

А savage, wrote John Ciardi, is simply a
human organism that has not received
enough news, particularly in the form of
literature, from the human race. Appar-
ently, some editors at major textbook
companies arc trying to reach the savage
in all of us by heavily editing the greatest
writers of all time—Shakespeare, Homer,

Chaucer, just to name a few. The mem-
bers of Virginia's state board of education
were shocked to discover that Scott, Fores-
man and Company, a large textbook-
publishing house in Illinois, had deleted
100 lines from its 12th-grade edition of

Hamlet and 320 lines from the ninth-grade
version of Romeo and Juliet, Most of the
deletions were references to sex or vio-
lence, and а subsequent survey of publish-
ers supplying Virginia schools revealed
that such abridgments were not unusual

"The survey supports the contentions of
People for the American Way, which has
fought censorship in Texas and believes
that the effort to change, censor and elim-
inate certain books and teaching materials
in public schools and libraries is wide-
spread. People for the American Way says
it has documented such efforts in 48 of the
50 states.

The pressure to censor comes from the
Far Right, Members of groups such as

Jerry Falwell's convince publishers that

certain books will be cut entirely from
school curricula—thus resulting in large
financial losses—unless references to sex,
violence and evolution are “abridged.”

As publishers sanitize their books to
make them palatable for the most naive
readers, a large percent of the population
is left in the dark. Is it good for a free and
democratic nation to have a population
ignorant of the universality of sex, the sig-
nificance of Darwin or the impact of vio-
lence on society? I think not.

It is ludicrous, also, to think that the
violence modern children encounter in
Shakespeare, Chaucer and Homer is any
greater than that they experience by
watching television or movies or by listen-
ing to rock music. To forfeit some of the
richness and humanism of Shakespeare by
cutting oblique references to sex or vio-
lence under the guise of protecting in-
nocent minds circumvents the point of
literature as а broadening experience and
stunts kids’ intellectual growth.

As efforts to censor the printed word
increase in Africa, Central America and
Eastern Europe, we must double our
efforts to preserve a society that allows and
encourages the open exchange of ideas

С. K. L. Browne
Woonsocket, Rhode Island

PORN PICKETS

Tt wasn't until I read the enclosed arti-
cle in a local newspaper, the Brooklyn C
ter Post, that 1 realized the
people present to free speech. The article
tells of a gas-and-grocery chain, Su-
peramerica, that has discontinued selling
the popular men's magazines.

These quoted remarks by Ernee Mc-
Arthur, a local champion of censorship,
are the ones I find most disturbing: ““To-
day is a day to rejoice. It is a turning point,
a turning away from spreading evil and

PLAYBOY

64

destruction. The banning of sex-oriented
magazines truly is a work of the Holy
Spirit in the hearts and minds of Super-
america leaders. This kind of good action
cannot go unrecognized in our Something

More City— Brooklyn Center.” 1 shudder

to think what would happen if such people
were elected to office.
Steve Katz
Minneapolis, Minnesota
You missed an even better line later in the
story. In а little ceremony, McArthur says to a

Never has one tiny bit of quiet cre-
ated such a deafening roar. How much
is there, really, to say about the simple
question of whether or not to authorize
moments of silence in our public
schools? We've already wasted far too
many moments of silence trying to dis-
tinguish between “private reflection”
and prayer, between hiring teachers to
teach and hiring them to supervise
early-morning “meditation” in public
schools; it's high time to reframe the
debate, shifiing our perspective

Lets start with an idea everyone
supports: a moment of silence. No one
can argue against a little quiet time. In
fact, mandated moments of silence are
the kind of
thoughtful pro-

A MOMENT OF SILENCE, PLEASE

By ANNIE PLESHETTE MURPHY

other. Instead of trying to sort out
the relevant from the irrelevant statis-
tics, one could rely on the sports
announcer to abide by the law, judi
ciously observing a moment of silence
rather than launching into yet another
useless anecdote.

A moment of silence should be mar
dated, too, for the driver who throws
himself on the horn approximately one
hundredth of a second before the light
turns green. In this case, violators
should be strapped to the ski racks of
their cars and forced to listen to Jerry
Falwell discussing inane sports trivia
with Pat Summerall. The same punish-
ment should be meted out for the driver
who honks to
let you know

phylasis that
all fast-track
folk could use.
But why waste
valuable mo-
ments ofsilence
on ki

WASHINGTON—The U.S. Supreme
Court Tuesday ruled unconstitutional an
Alabama state law authorizing voluntary
prayer in public schools during a pre-
scribed “period of silence.”

The 63 decision, written by Justice
John Paul Stevens, strongly reaffirmed
the high court's opposition since the
early 1960s to state laws endorsing or

that he thinks
you should
have run the

light instead of
stopping to let
the boy scout
and the old lady

beginn;
the school day,
especially since most of them don’t
start paying attention until 11 o'clock?
Why not institute valuable moments-
of-silence legislation in those areas of
society where such action is constitu-
tionally and inarguably justified?
For example, let’s urge our Congress-
men to authorize a statute requiring
sports announcers to observe a moment
of silence at those times when they
obviously have nothing intel
say. This action would not only take
the pressure off those poor retired
jocks, it would relieve the sports-
worshiping public from listening to a
host of painfully inane facts: “Hey,
Roger, did you realize that when Tom
was a youngster at Gardenia High
School, he scored six TDs against a
team with a tight end who had the
same middle name?” “We've just
that Mike's dad, who once
played shortstop in a minor-league
division out in Wichita, is back in the
hospital for а hernia operation.”
Imagine how refreshing it would be
to watch a game оп television

learned

two guys who seem to loathe cach

undistracted by the constant chitchat of

in the wheel-
chair cross.

A moment of silence in elevators
would be a third—and welcome—
application of the new statute, particu-
larly useful for the tedious multistop
rides in which someone feels compelled
to remark, “Well, I guess we got the
local.” A moment of silence might not
stop the really desperate nerd from
slipping in a “Hot enough for you?”
before exiting, but it would certain-
ly bea step in the right direction.

And last but never least, several
healthy young citizens have come for-
ward expressing a desire for а moment
of silence during sex. Some feel that this
is needed tocounter their partner’s tend-
спсу to describe every twinge, probe
and change in technique during love-
making. Others wish for a postcoital
moment of relaxed reflection in lieu of a
barrage of “How was it for you?" que-
rics. Should a constitutional act man-
dating a moment of silence during sex
be construed as a violation of First
Amendment rights or, worse, a surrep-
titious way to introduce prayer in the
bedroom, rest assured that for some
people, sex is already a religious experi-
ence. Who can fight that?

representative of the store (referring to herself
in the third person), “You . . . are being pre-
sented this rose as a symbol of life by a repre

sentative of your concerned customers, who
acted on her responsibility and authority to
have dominion over the things of this earth.”
We say to Ernee: Claiming that takes real
balls, so while you're at it, would you please
do something about the mess in Lebanon?

HEARTHIESS HOMES
By concluding that mobile homes are
constitutionally equivalent to vehicles

rather than to residences and are not,
therefore, subject to residences’ protection
against illegal search and seizure, the U.S.
Supreme Court has taken a major step
toward creating а two-class system of law.

Under such a system, people who have
fewer material resources or who adopt
legal but unconventional lifestyles are sub-
ject to a different set of laws than those
folks who have greater material resources
or adopt more conventional lifestyles. Any
system that makes such an arbitrary dis-
tinction between haves and have-nots will,
inevitably, degenerate into some form of
radical socialism.

What is most disturbing, though, about
this recent Supreme Court decision is that
it is in clear violation of the Constitution.
The Fourth Amendment clearly states,
“The right of the people to be secure in
their persons, houses, papers and effects
against unreasonable searches and seizures
shall not be violated.” Likewise, the 14th
Amendment declares, “No state shall
deny to any person within its jurisdiction
the equal protection of the laws.”

The Supreme Court’s conclusion—that
a person who chooses to live in a house
with wheels docs not have the same legal
rights as a person who chooses to live in a
suburban duplex—is one of the most fear-
fully ominous decisions yet made by the
Burger Court.

Eric Petersen, C.D.P.
Albuquerque, New Mexico

LIBERAL LETTERS
In the August Playboy Forum, Ralph W.
Anderson suggests that PLAYBOY has "an
editorial policy favoring liberal letters." In
your defense, you acknowledge that your
readers “tend to be liberal on social is-
sues." I wonder why
My theory is this: pLaysov’s readership
is composed of people who are liberal
enough not to condemn nudity and liberal
enough to exercise the right of each person
to read what ће or she pleases
The intellectual bent of many PLAYBOY
readers stems from the freethinking neo-
liberalism that blossomed on America’
college campuses during the past two
decades. In the spirit of dissent and the
inherent cynicism of free thought, it makes
sense that readers would respond to a
conservative Presidential Administration
with letters from the left.
(continued on page 70;
“Forum Newsfront" on page 66)

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FOR U

М NEWS FRONT

what's happening in the sexual and social arenas

MAKE LOVE, NOT WAR?

cHicaco—A political-science professor
at Loyola University is arguing that
female soldiers should not be given the
privilege of combat duty, because at any
given lime, ten percent of them are preg-
nant. Writing in Policy Review, the
quarterly journal of the conservative

Heritage Foundation, Professor Jean
Yarbrough cites that figure, and also the
fact that 17 percent of the Army's women
are pregnant over the course of a year,
insisting on the continued “recognition of
genuine physical and psychological differ-
ences that are important in battle, such as
strength, aggressiveness and sexual at-
traction.” She adds, “The trend of recent
history and court decisions is to ignore the
natural differences between men and
women in the name of social equity. But
when applied to military affairs, the prin
ciple of equity is wrong and dangerous.”
Women are currently barred by law from
combat roles,

OFFTHE STREETS AND OUT OF TROUBLE

WASHINGTON, D.C. —Afler two and a half
years of study, the American Bar Associa-
tion has issued a controversial recommen-
dation that new bail standards be adopted
to allow for the pretrial detention ој
defendants who represent a danger to the
community. Pretrial detention would be
allowed under two circumstances: for sus-
pects in serious felonies committed while
out on bond, parole or probation; and for
suspects convicted of at least one felony
within the past ten years and whose “past
and present conduct . . . supports a judi-
cial finding that no condition or com-
bination of conditions will reasonably
assure the safety of any person or the
community.”

PERMANENT PROBLEM

ALLENTOWN, PENNSYLVANIA—A woman
who suffered a broken jaw in an auto acci-
dent has settled out of court after alleging
that the injury, among other things,
“diminished her ability to enjoy oral sex
with her husband.” She stated in the suit
that although cosmetic surgery had not
been required, she was unable to move her
mouth properly and that the damage to the
jawbone was permanent.

FATAL FOREPLAY

san ANTONIO T'he death of a 22-year-
old pregnant woman and her seven-
month-old fetus has been ruled accidental
after a bizarre form of oral sex forced air
to enter her blood stream and cause car-
diac arrest. Investigators said that her
husband, who had read of the practice in
a magazine, had blown air into his wife's
vagina as part of their sexual play, and
an air embolism occurred when the pla-
сета was displaced.

TRICK OR TREATMENT

LOS ANGELES—A 21-year-old rape vic-
tim has filed suit against a Catholic
hospital, charging that it denied her
information about and access to the so-
called morning-after pill while she was
receiving emergency treatment for the
assault. The woman did nol become preg-
nant, but the suit alleges that in failing or
refusing to prescribe estrogen prophylaxis
within 72 hours, when the treatment can
prevent pregnancy, the hospital failed to
provide optimal emergency treatment
under accepted. medical standards. Her
attorney said that no damages were being
asked in the син, “just a change їп the
practices.” She said that a survey of 12
major Catholic-run emergency rooms in
the metropolitan area revealed that about
two thirds forbade physicians to prescribe
postrape estrogen trealment, presumably
because the treatment acts as an abortifa-
cient, in conflict with Church teachings.

PORNO PROBLEM

WASHINGTON, DE—In а decision that is
worrying the porn industry—and some
civil libertarians as well—the U.S. Su-
preme Court has ruled seven to two that
police do not need a warrant to enter а
bookstore and buy, rather than seize,
allegedly obscene materials. Writing for
the majority, Justice Sandra Day О'Соп-
nor reinstated the conviction of a Hyatts-
ville, Maryland, bookstore employee who
had successfully appealed earlier on the

ground that undercover detectives had
purchased materials for use as evidence
instead of asking a judge to first deter-
mine their probable obscenity before seek-
ing an arrest warrant. In dissent, Justice
William J. Brennan, Jr., criticized the
majority's “endorsement of the Govern-
ment's abuse of the arrest power . . . to
enforce norms of taste” and said that
“these stealthy encroachments upon our
liberties sanctioned in the state's present
effort to combat vice may become potent
weapons in a future effort to shackle polit-
ical dissenters and stifle their voices."

THE DEVIL MADE THEM DO IT

usriN—No doubt inspired by Satan,
Madalyn Murray О'Най% American
Atheist Center has published “The
X-Rated Bible,” by Ben Edward Akerley,
а "witty but scholarly” 428-page exami-
nation and analysis of all the sexual activ-
ity that fundamentalists and many other
Christians tend to overlook in the King
James Bible. Chapters bear such lively
titles as "Onan's Fatal Orgasm," “Noah
Gets Drunk and Exposes Himself” and
“King David Flashes His Royal Penis.”

PULLOVER

HoUsTON—The Houston Sports Associ-
ation has agreed not to press criminal-
trespass charges against our friend
Morganna Roberts, the hissing bandit
(велувоу, June 1983) for running onto
the Astrodome field and kissing two ball-
players. The prosecution had learned that
prominent defense attorney Richard

" Haynes planned to argue
that his client, who claims а bust measure-
ment of 60 inches, had merely leaned over
a rail and had been drawn onto the play-
ing field by the law of gravity.

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Followed by a long line of refine-
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Ina category where "advances" tend
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‚And now, Sony widens the gap still further.
With the 27" (measured diagonally) Trinitron
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be termed our highest
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t@Feb Feb. 10, 1985 The New York Times
Reprinted by permi

—

Sony is proud to announce the TVs that wood cabinetry its a television whose form |

are worth watching. Even when you're not is definitely equal to its function.
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THE ONE AND ONLY:

PLAYBOY

FORUM

(continued from page 64)
If, indeed, campuses are becoming bas-
tions of conservatism, then perhaps the
next generation of РГАҮВОҮ readers will
heat the Forum up. As a proud liberal, I
say, “Bring "em on!”
Sam Ackerman
Newark, Delaware
That's fine, but your letter raises a question
that we'll pass on to our readers: In 100
words or less, somebody tell us the difference
between a neoliberal and a neoconservative.

FATHERS’ RIGHTS
In today’s social structure, divorce is a

common occurrence. Until recently, 2
woman was considered the nurturer of
children in a family situation, so custody
in a divorce was more often than not
awarded to the wife and usually no argu-
ment was given by the husband. The hus-
band was then asked to give X amount of.
money to his ex-wife to contribute to the
care, feeding and support of the children.
Unfortunately, some men don’t care
much beyond paying child support. Still
others don’t even care to pay the suppor
But what of those who want to be, and
work at being, an integral part of their
children’s lives? These men, too, often are
refused this right by the children’s mother.
There are many ways this can be done—

forum follies

A TALE OF TWO CITIES

In the finest tradition of reasonable
people reasoning together, Santa Mon-
ica has apologized for exiling a con-
victed sex offender to Florida and
Miami has agreed not to sue or try to
have Santa Monica arrested for kid-
naping—even though Florida started it
all in the first place by banishing a
convicted prostitute to California

For those who have not been follow-
ing the story:

In 1982, a Florida judge decided that
47 arrests for prostitution qualified 24-
year-old Melanie King as a recidivist
and gave her a choice between prison
and a one-way airline ticket to Cali-
fornia. Shc opted for California at a
cost of $159 for her tickct and $42 for
her pregnant cat’s and promptly went
back into business. California thought
this a tacky way for Florida to deal with
its prostitution problem.

In 1985, the Santa Monica police
f got tired of arresting Melanie and
decided that "ме owed a few to Florida
If they want to play onc-upmanship
with California, we'll take them on а
time"—and gifted Miami with 44
year-old Weston J. Hill, a former men-
tal patient with a history of arrests for
sexual offenses. Santa Monica was
good enough to advise Miami that a
known criminal was arriving on a cer-
tain Eastern Airlines flight but didn’t
mention who had paid for his ticket

Soon Hill was getting himself
arrested in Florida, and Miami, learn
ing how he had come to be there, was
hopping mad. The Floridians thought
they had gotten by far the worst of the
deal, since their girl really wasn't much
of a threat to society but the guy they
had gotten had quite a history of sex
offenses.

Miami's police chief, Clarence Dick-
son, called the stunt “unprofessional and
dangerous as well as embarrassing to
the law-enforcement community and
morally wrong.” The city of Miami

threatened to sue Santa Monica and
voted to complain to the National
League of Cities, to the International
City Management Association and to
the National Council of Mayors. It
суеп threatened to bring in the Feds on
а kidnaping complaint if it proved that
Hill had been sent to Florida against
his will and said it would seck Federal
legislation to prevent such foolishness
in the future. Miami's mayor com-
plained that this was not the first ime
undesirables had been deported to
Florida and said, “If we don't stand up
and sct an example [of Hill], we are
destined to have this happen over and
over and over.”

At first, Santa Monica shrugged.
City attorney Robert Myers said he
thought Miami was “engaging in
mature and foolish conduct. If Miami
wants to waste tax funds to engage
in meaningless litigation, they are free
to do 50."

This set Miami to hyperventilating,
and Santa Monica decided it had
better sound a conciliatory note. It
blamed the laws of its own state,
California, for not kecping off the
streets and complimented Florida's
laws for accomplishing just that. Then
Santa Monica mayor Christine Reed
wrote a letter of apology to Miami in
which she “regretted any problems or
inconvenience." She added, “I can
assure you that Santa Monica will not
send you any more mental-health cases
or any more criminal offenders." Fur-
thermore, Santa Monica police want the
state of California to bring him back.

That may not be necessary. At last
report, Hill was still in the Dade
County slammer for failing to appear
at his hearing on indecent-exposure
charges. and a Florida radio station
was ready to spring for the one-w
plane ticket with more than $1000 in
pledges from its listeners. —HUGH LOWE

by downplaying the role of and the respect
due the father, helping the children decide
that they don't want to go on visitation
day, having the children wear dressy
clothes when the mother has been told
that jeans would be more appropriate.

The list goes on. Of course, there are ex-
wives who cooperate, but there are more
who do not, and there are those who coop-
erate so little as to stretch the limits of the
law—such as encouraging the children to
use their mother’s newly acquired married
name.

I am in such a situation and have
received no help from state family-service
departments, due to their legal limitations,
nor from law firms that require large
retainers. I care very deeply about two
specific children, and I am sure there are
many caring fathers, but who will help the
collective whole?

There are organizations for women’s
rights, men’s rights and even the rights of
dying wildlife. But what about the rights of
divorced fathers? There is an enforced
injustice due to legalese and loopholes,
and the victims are the caring divorced
fathers, as well as their children.

Perry M. Savard

Waterbury, Connecticut

KILLER WEED RETURNS.

A dangerous misinformation campaign
about marijuana has reached new heights
of hysteria and excess, and we need your
financial support to fight back. It is as sim-
ple as that. Here is the problem.

CBS News recently reported that the
number of children incarcerated in psychi-
atric hospitals for drug problems has

ncreased by 350 percent since the begin-
ning of the Reagan Administration,
despite the fact that during the same time
period, adolescent drug usc has declined
dramatically. Blue Cross/Blue Shield in-
vestigated those incarcerations and found
that they were often unnecessary and
were based on misdiagnosis.

"This new form of child abuse is directly
related to the misinformation campaign of
the Reagan war on drugs, For example, in
her foreword to the book Marijuana Alert,
Nancy Reagan wrote:

Marijuana Alert is а true story
about a drug that is taking America
captive. ... The author sounds the
alarm loud and clear about the physi-
cal and psychological effects of this
drug and sets the record straight. . . .
Drugs are a plague that is ruining the
minds and bodies of our children.

This type of rhetoric is the reason more
and more children are being locked up and
branded as mentally ill drug abusers. We
need to respond to this dangerous prop-
aganda. The Genter for the Study of Drug
Policy is a nonprofit, tax-exempt organi-
zation created to fund educational projects
of the National Organization for Reform of
Marijuana Laws and other groups. We
will work with NORML in developing

а series of pamphlets on marijuana-
related issues; one will examine ways to
keep our kids off drugs and out of psychi-
atric hospitals. Scare tactics don't wor
education does. We must let Ameri
know that there are rational alternatives to
incarcerating kids.

Kevin Zeese, Director

Center for the Study of

Drug Policy
Washington, D.C.

(CLEAR THINKING

Regarding the issues of abortion and
capital punishment, which occupy a great
amount of copy in the Forum, I would like
to add some fuel to the fire.

I have noticed that those forces that
oppose abortion on demand favor capital
punishment. On the other hand, those that
oppose capital punishment are often, even
usually, pro-abortion. I think these posi-
tions are inconsistent. I think we should
either take the view that life is sacred in all
matters or say, “Kill ‘em all and let God
sort ‘em out.”

Jelirey A. Tects
Lakewood, California

Great. And our favorite T-shirt slogan

says, “No good deed ever goes unpunished.”

GRANDMOTHER WEISS IS BACK!

President Reagan and the religious zeal-
ots who want to put prayer in public
schools could learn a lesson from a story
my grandmother once told me.

She was in Jerusalem and saw a rabbi
fervently praying at the Wailing Wall. She
asked him, “Rabbi, what are you praying
so hard for?"

He answered, "I'm praying for peace,
that people should love one another and
for an end to starvation."

"So?" my grandmother asked. “Does it
help?"

The rabbi replied,
wall."

“It’s like talking to a

Morton Weiss
Wantagh, New York
It certainly is good to hear from Grand-
mother Weiss again. Devoted readers will
recall that in the August 1983 “Playboy
Forum,” a University of California professor
and a New York anti-abortionist nearly
brought us all to our knees with their letters
discussing the biological versus metaphysical
aspects of the question When does life begin?
It was Grandmother Weiss, by way of grand.
son Morton, who supplied the answer that
brought the most applause: “Life begins when
the children move out and the dog dies.”

“The 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.

WHERE EVER WE LOOK in Jack Daniel’s

Hollow, there’s a bit of Christmas in the air.

Jack Bateman (he's the boss of our rickyard) is
getting a nice gift from two of his barrelmen

friends. And if we know МЕ Ри he's got

a gift for them somewhere
close at hand. It’s just
another sign that the
Christmas spirit has
arrived. And, no matter
where you live, we hope
you've got it, too.

Jack Dan Dey
Es ; xd

Mr pc
(Pop 31)

CHARCOAL MELLOWED

DROP BY DROP

Viewpoint WOMEN ON SEX

PLEASURE AND DANGER

in the midst of a moral panic, we discover a voice of sanity

оштун THE lecture hall, a group of pickets
prowled the sidewalk. They were some
local clones of Donald Wildmon’s Federa-
tion for Decency. The signs looked as if
they had been brought out of the attic.
Young girls, with fresh scrubbed faces,
carried white posters that proclaimed,
FREE LOVE IS NOT FREE; ILLICIT SEX: CAN YOU
HANDLE THE CONSEQUENCES’; WOULD YOL

BRING HERPES HOME TO YOUR WIFE? SEXUAL
REVOLUTION HAS NO WINNERS. Maybe it was
the lighting, but the pickets resembled
wood-block prints depicting scenes from
the turn of the century, when proponents
of social purity protested alcohol, male
lust and the specter of casual sex with
prostitutes and easy women.

I grew up in a generation that laughed
at those old posters: SHE MAY LOOK
CLEAN. . | . The pickets in front of the
lecture hall took such dire warnings as
gospel truth. I watched a man stroll past
pushing a baby carriage with two infants.
A boy barely old enough to walk carried a
sign he could not possibly understand.

I was there to give a lecture called
“The Playboy Advisor on Love and Sex.”
It was not the first time I had been pick-
eted. At one college, feminists and funda-
mentalists had protested my visit for
weeks in advance. The protest culminated
in a demonstration that drew, I was told,
more people than had any antiwar protest
during the Vietnam conflict. To think that
naked bodies bother some people more
than dead bodies!

At this campus, the protest had drawn
camera crews. There was a press confer-
ence. “Do the pickets bother you?" I
replied: “They are very sophisticated.
Tonight’s broadcast will show their.
signs. You will say that I was here to lec-
ture. But you will not be able to broadcast
any part of that lecture. The image of this
evening will be theirs.

The lecture hall was full. I stood in a
spotlight, ready to discuss oral sex, mas-
turbation, orgasm, birth control, the Chi-
nese basket trick, the sexual revolution.
“Hey,” I asked, “did you sce the pickets?”

The crowd applauded.

“They scem to think that talking about
sex leads to sex. [Pause] They're right.”

The crowd roared its approval.

"Now le's give them something to

By JAMES R. PETERSEN

worry about, On the count of three,
everyone make the sound you make when
you reach orgasm.”

"The crowd laughed.

“Do you think sex is a laughing matter?
This is serious. One, two, three.”

The sound they made was glorious. 1
thought, We must answer the pickets with
the sound of our pleasure. Pm not some
folk singer conducting a sing-along.
Something is going on out there, and at
times I feel as if I am the only person still
interested in the wonder of sex, the range
of possibility of pleasure. At one college,
the administration censored posters that
read: THE PLAYBOY ADVISOR ON LOVE AND SEX.
The final product read: THE PLAYBOY ADVI-
sor ок, ... On what? Drugs? Are love
and sex controlled substances? Perhaps
they were afraid that if students read the
words love and sex they would be driven
into a frenzy of experimentation.

The world is filled with forces against
sex. Every day they gain credibility. 1
thought of calling this essay “Back to
the Future” or “Forward to the Past.”

We've been through this before. Once
again, the forces of prohibition are prowl-
ing the sidewalks and haunting the head-
lines. Time runs cover stories on AIDS
and herpes and uses the same type face it
uses for natural disasters, war and fam-
ine. ‘The powers-that-want-to-be have
created a moral panic, fucled by fear, that
is as intentional as it is out of proportion.

А few months ago, I sat down at a com-
puter terminal and requested something
called the library files of the Nexis in-
formation bank. The program contains
articles from selected newspapers, maga-
zines, wire services and newsletters. The
material goes back to 1975 and represents
what could be called the mainstream
press. I wanted to know how many times
certain sexual acts had been mentioned. 1
punched up ORAL sex and found 1499 ref-
erences over ten years, Not bad. Mastur-
bation had been mentioned 534 times;
orgasm, 519 times; anal sex, a mere 69
times. In contrast, venereal disease had
been mentioned 4447 times. Rape had
been mentioned 49,460 times; abortion,
38,346 times. Pornography: 11,036. When

1 punched up the references, I discovered
that the articles were never about mind-

boggling episodes in elevators. Rather,
they were discussions about disease vec-
tors. Can you catch ALDS from mastur-
bation? Can you catch herpes from toilet
seats? I knew who had given sex a bad
name. No one celebrates pleasure in the
halls of journalism (except around the
offices at Playboy). No one celebrates
pleasure in the pulpits of Jerry Falwell’s
Moral Majority. And the radical fringe of
the feminist moyement, which had taken
to bombing bookstores and picketing my
lectures, didn't seem interested in the joys
of the Chinese basket trick.

And then I picked up a copy of Pleasure
and Danger: Exploring Female Sexuality, a
collection of essays edited by Carole 5.
Vance. A group of prosex feminists had
held a conference at Barnard in 1982 to
discuss this very question. Vance, an
anthropologist at Columbia University
and codirector of the Institute for the
Study of Sex in Society and History in
New York, writes in her introduction:

For some, the dangers of sexual-
ity—violence, brutality and coercion,
in the form of rape, forcible incest
and exploitation, as well as сусгу-
day cruelty and humiliation—make

curiosity, intimacy, sensuality, adven-
ture, excitement, human connection,
basking in the infantile and non-
rational—are not only worth while
but provide sustaining energy.

We must answer the pickets with the
roar of our pleasure and the eloquence of
our words. The voices against sex have all
the weapons of fear, and they have what
they think is the answer. Vance feels that
the feminist movement has been sub-
verted by forces that say:

Female desire should be restricted
to zones protected and privileged
in the culture: traditional marriage
nd the nuclear family. Better
safe than sorry is still a dominant
caution. Women socialized by
mothers to keep their dresses down,
their pants up and their bodies away
from strangers—come to experience

their own sexual impulses as danger-
ous. . . . Sexual abandon and impul-
siveness acquire a high price, since
women must think not only about
the consequences of their sexual
actions for themselves but also about
the consequences for men, whose
sexual “natures” are supposedly
lustful, aggressive and unpredi
able. . . . Self-control and watchful-
ness become major and necessary
female virtues. As a result, female
desire is suspect from its first tingle.
questionable until proven safe and
frequently too expensive when evalu-
ated within the larger cultural frame-
work which poses the question Is it
really worth it? When unwanted
pregnancy, street harassment, stig-
ma, unemployment, queer-bashi
rape and arrest are arrayed on the
side of caution and inaction, passion
often doesn't have a chance.

Vance believes we have seen “the trans-
mutation of sexuality into unmitigated
danger and unremitting victimization.”

The Barnard conference called for a
new agenda for feminism. The wor
attending felt that they must address *
repression of female desire that comes
from ignorance, invisibility and fe
Feminism must put forward a polit
that resists deprivation and supports
pleasure. It must understand pleasure
as life-affirming, empowering, desirous of
human connection and the future, and
not fear it as destructive, enfcebling or
corrupt. . . . То wait until a zone of
safety is established to begin to explore
and organize for pleasure is Lo cede it as
an arena, to give it up and to admit that
ме аге weaker and more frightened than
our enemies ever imagined.”

What amazes me about the publicity
for danger is how many of my friends
believe it. I call it the Big Chill Factor.
Friends who went through the sexual rev-
olution turn to me and say, “I can't
believe how lucky we were. We fooled
around, we had fun. And we didn't catch
herpes." Most of them are married and
have good fan which shows
that a little fucking your brains out
doesn't destroy your chances for happi-
ness or normalcy. What bothers me is
that they buy the rhetoric as easily as the
most terrified fundamentalist. If we can't
talk about pleasure, no one can. And
that’s exactly what Jerry Falwell wants

During most lectures, I ask how m
people have heard of herpes. Eve
raises his hand. I ask how many people
are afraid of herpes. Everyone raises his
hand. I ask how many people have never
seen herpes. Everyone raises his hand.

At the Barnard conference, Ellen
DuBois, a teacher of history at the State
University of New York at Buffalo, and
Linda Gordon, a professor of women’

history at the University of Massachu-
setts at Boston, pointed out that “the
weight of 19th Century feminist concern
was with protection from danger." Forces
for social purity such as the Women’s
Christian Temperance Union sought to
lower the odds. “Their object,” said
DuBois and Gordon, “was to achieve a
set of controls over sexuality, structured
through the family. enforced through law
and/or social morality, which would ren-
der sex, if not safe, at least a decent
calculable risk for women. Social-purity
feminists railed against male sexual
privileges, against the vileness of male
drunkenness and lust, and they sought
with every means at their disposal (о
increase the costs attached to such indul-
gences." One result was Prohil

“The positive possibilities
of sexuality—explorations
of the body, curiosity,
intimacy, sensuality,
adventure, excitement,
human connection,
basking in the infantile
and nonrational—are not
only worth while but
provide sustaining
energy.”

— CAROLE s. VANCE

legislative error that tore the social fabric
for decades. The modern version is social
purists who picket lectures with signs
warning that free sex isn't free. They
picket 7-Eleven stores that sell pLavnoy
They bomb abortion clinics. They keep
their kids out of school fearing AIDS.

We are in the midst of a moral pani
Gayle Rubin, an anthropologist, writes in
an essay called “Thinking Se:

Moral panics are the “political
moment” of sex, in which di
attitudes are channeled into political
action and from there into social
change. The white-slavery hysteria of
the 1880s, the antihomosexual cam-
paigns of the 1950s and the child-
pornography panic of the late 1970s
were typical moral pani

Becau: xuality in Western so:
cties is so mystified, the wars over it
are often fought at oblique angles,
aimed at phony targets, conducted
with misplaced passions, and
highly, intensely symbolic. Sexual
activities often function as signifiers
for personal and social apprehen-
sions to which they have no intrinsic
connection. During a moral panic,

arc

such fears attach to some unfortu-
nate sexual activity or population.
The media become ablaze with
indignation, the public behaves like a
rabid mob, the police are activated
and the state enacts new laws and
regulations. When the furor has
passed, some innocent erotic group
has been decimated and the state has
extended its power into new areas of
erotic behavior.

Rubin focuses on the antiporn wing of
the feminist movement. Porn has replaced
demon rum in the new politics of danger.
Pornography is a Newsweek cover story.
Edwin Meese is conducting a witch-hunt,
secking to link pornography with a vari-
ety of social ills. At times it sounds as if
they are discussing sex on another planet
The vision of sex they present has nothing
to do with my lecturc or, for that matter,
my life. Rubin explains why:

This discourse on sexuality is less
a sexology than a demonology. It
presents most sexual behavior in the
worst possible light. Its descriptions
of erotic conduct always use the
worst available example as if it were
representative. It presents the most
disgusting pornography, the most
exploited forms of prostitution and
the least palatable or most shocking
manifestations of sexual variation.
This rhetorical tactic consistently
misrepresents human sexuality in all
its forms. The picture of human sex-
uality that emerges . . . is unremit-
tingly ugly.

In addition, this antiporn rhetoric
is a massive exercise in scapegoating.
It criticizes nonroutine acts of love
rather than routine acts of oppres-
sion, exploitation or violence. This
demon sexology directs legitimate
anger at women’s lack of personal
safety against innocent individuals,
practices and communities. Anti-
porn. propaganda often implies that
sexism originates within the com-
mercial sex industry and subse-
quently infects the rest of society.
This is sociologically nonsensical.

It may be nonsense. but it is apparently
persuasive nonsense. Over the past quar-
ter century, we cleared a tiny space i
which pleasure might flourish. It was a

heroic accomplishment. One of the
enlightening experiences of the sexual
revolution is the discovery that there are

women for whom pleasure and ecstasy
mean the same things they do for men.
We found comrades in our arms. Now we
have to combat the people who would
stamp our victory into the earth and
replace it with an antisexual lifestyle
based on fear. The pickets were right
about one thing. Sexual revolution has no
winners, We're still fighting.

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And then they tell me that because the disc is read by a beam of light instead of a video
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Suddenly, it all becomes very clear to me: if you could
get the best sound and the best picture from the same
system, if you didn't have to give up one to get the other,
how could you possibly consider anything else?

I don’t care if you're a big video-music
fan, or all you do is watch movies. Either
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www DILL COSBY

a candid conversation with america's superdad about his revolutionary
true-to-life comedy series—and about racism, kids, humor and heroes

Go figure out America’s taste in television.
Last year, just when the nation seemed ћорс-
lessly addicted to prime-time programs that
featured equal measures of sex, greed and
hair spray, along came “The Cosby Show" —
an unlikely series about a black obstetrician
and his family—and suddenly, network exec-
ulives were proclaiming that sitcoms weren't
dead, after all. NBC, proud as a peacock at
last, found itself presenting TV's top-rated
weekly comedy series, while comedian Bill
Cosby, riding the biggest wave of his career,
had become America’s favorite father figure.

As Dr. Heathcliff Huxtable, Cosby por-
trays a bright, funny physician who's deeply
in love with his lawyer wife, Claire, played by
Phylicia Ayers-Allen. Their TV. children —
four daughters and one son—mirror the real-
life set of siblings Cosby has sived with his wife
of almost 22 years, the former Camille
Hanks. On “The Cosby Show,” Father knows
best, but not to the point of parental infallibil-
ity: Cliff Huxtable often learns as much from
his kids as they do from him. Some critics have
carped that the show isn't. “black” enough,
which is to say that Dr. Huxtable isn't poor
and doesn't go around exchanging high fives
each time he delivers a baby or a solution
to a family problem. The Huxtable children,
meanwhile (judging by current TV standards

4

“Tve never been comfortable with profanity
But I think Richard Pryor's way of using
Jour-letter words and 12-letter curse words
has nothing to do with Eddie Murphy's way
of using 77-letter curse words.”

and practices), are just plain weird: They
actually love and respect their parents. Мом
people are not put off by all that. As John J.
O'Connor recently noted in The New York
Times, "At а time when so many comedians
are toppling into a kind of smutty permis-
siveness, Mr. Cosby is making the nation
laugh by paring ordinary life to its ex-
traordinary essentials. It is, indeed, a truly
nice development.” In a cover story, News-
week suggested that Cosby's magical rapport
with children, huge popularity with grownups
and fiercely creative imagination put him
in the genius class.

How far Bill Cosby's career will continue to
develop ts anybody's guess, including the come-
dian's. For more than 20 years, Cosby has been
a show-business staple whose body of work now
includes 20 comedy albums (five of which won
Grammys), five TV series (ће won three Emmys
Jor “I Spy"), ten movies and thousands of
performances as a stand-up comedian.

Ву now, you're probably somewhat familiar
with Cosby's curriculum vitae: The eldest of
three sons, he was born in Philadelphia on
July 12, 1937. At Philly s Germantown High
School, he was an excellent athlete (captain of
the track and football teams) but a dreadful
student. After his sophomore year, Cosby
Joined the Navy, saw the world and then saw

“I was physical with my som just once, very
physical. I just didn’t see any other way of get-
ting him to make a change, so along with
bang physical, 1 begged hum to understand
that I truly, truly loved him.”

the light: He enrolled in Navy correspond-
ence courses, earned his high school diploma
and then wangled a track scholarship to Tem-
ple University. Three years later, he again
dropped out of school, this time because his
weekend appearances at various Greenwich
Village night spots had made him a hot com-
edy commodity. In 1963, he recorded his first
comedy album, won a Grammy for it and has
never looked back. He later received a degree
from Temple and then earned a master's and
a doctorate in education from the University
of Massachusetts. Cosby's 242-page disserta-
tion was tilled “The Integration of Visual
Media via Fat Albert and the Cosby Kids into
the Elementary School Culminating as a
Teacher Aid to Achieve Increased Learning.”
The net result is that the man known in
showbiz circles as Cos is known in others as
Dr. William Н. Cosby, Jr. And Fat Albert,
who still lives inside his creator's head, is said.
to be very pleased.

To interview the 48-year-old performer,
PLavaoy again teamed Cosby with free-lancer
Lawrence Linderman, who conducted the
magazine's original “Playboy Interview"
with him (and Linderman's first) in 1969.
Linderman repor

“1 caught up with Bill a few weeks after
"The Cosby Show" had gone into its second

wy

ЕГІ:

|-
| E

PHOTOGRAPHY BY HOWARO BINGHAM
“I never cared about being a movie star
That's not to say we don't all have fantasies
about becoming movie stars: “Of course 1
Know that Marlon wants to work with mı
1 won't consider it without the right director."

PLAYBOY

season of production. Cosby was spending the
last days of summer doing two shows a night
at tent sites in Cohasset, Massachusetts, and
Baldwin, Rhode Island, both within shouting
distance of his 265-acre estate near Amherst,
Massachusetts. When we got together at Kim-
balls by the Sea, a snug little hotel in
Cohasset Harbor. Cosby greeted me warmly,
and I think both of us felt as if we'd seen each
other only a few weeks before. Cosby hasn't
changed much over the years: The only signs
he shows of advancing middle age are a slight
tinge of gray hair and the beginnings of a
paunch, which he's busting his butt to elimi-
nate. At cur first meeting, we couldn't find
the source of the tiny chimes that were sound-
ing in the room until Bill realized the sound
was coming from a pair of stop watches he'd
just bought to time himself in +00-meter
runs. (Once a track man, always a track
man.)

“In any case, when all the tootlings were
done with, Cosby whipped ош one of the fool-
long Jamaican stogies he more or less chain
smokes, and we got down to business. With
the start of the new fall television season
imminent, ‘The Cosby Show provided the
opening subject for our conversation.”

PLAYBOY: The last time we spoke—in
1969—you were a hot young comedian.
Since then, you've just about become a
national institution. What does it feel like
to be an American instituti
COSBY: Well, except for the fact that I was
16 pounds lighter 16 years ago, it feels
good. It’s heen good. 1 remember 1969
very well. Couple of things have happened
since. [Grins through cigar smoke] Right
about then, I had four albums in the top
ten at the same time, and I don't think
even Elvis Presley ever did that.
that was a high. Winning the Emmys
was a high, then going on to do my TV
specials... .. PII tell you, when I was
growing up in a lower-economic neighbor-
hood in Philadelphia, these were things I
thought happened only to people on the
radio.
PLAYBOY: For readers who may not know
that there was such a thing as life before
television, what do you mean by that?
COSBY: Oh, old radio programs, like The
Lux Radw Theater. The announcer would
“There goes Humphrey Bogart"
“Sitting next to me is Edward G. Rol
son." I'd picture those guys in my mind—
Fm sure they weren't there—but that's
how some of all this feels. I know the ТУ
series has changed things for me, but up
until it hit, Га been very, very successful.
I consider myself a master of stand-up
comedy, and 1 still really c
ng. I think even my commercials have
been excellent, because Гус done them
only for products I believe in, But more
than anything, I know how happy I am at
home. My wife, Camille, and 1 are enjoy-
ing each other more and more, mostly
because in the past cight or nine years,
I've given up all of myself to her. I'm no

Now,

joy perform-

longer holding anyth back.

PLAYBOY: What part of you were you hold-
ing back?

COSBY: The part of me that was devoting
more thought to my work than to my wife.
"Thats a very selfish thing to do, and I
think there are people who'll tell you quite
openly that if they had to choose between
their mate and their work, they'd choose
their work. Well, cight or nine years ago, 1
realized that that was just silly, so 1 began
releasing myself from my work—I’m not
just talking about time now—and coming
more and more together with my wife.
And what happened was that I found
myself falling deeper and deeper in love
with her.

I think the fear of giving all of myself to
Camille also had to do with a worry that
perhaps someday she would leave me; I
was afraid that if I gave myself to her com-
pletely and she left, I'd have no hope of
recovering. 1 always figured that maybe I
should save 11 or 12 percent of myself to
get me through that day when she says,
“Look, Bill, I met a man while you were
оп the road and he’s a very nice guy.”
When I realized what I was thinking, 1
thought, Well, if it happens. it happens,
and ГЇЇ deal with it then. But not now.

“More than anything, 1
know how happy I am at
home. I no longer hold
anything back.”

So it’s just pure and good with us. The
children—some have their problems, but
we're able to work with them and talk with
them, and they wy. Can't ask for more. So
оште looking at someone who was a very,
very happy man before thi hit
PLAYBOY: Despite all this success since we
last spoke, there must have been moments
that weren't as upbeat as all that. Wasn't
there a time when Bill Cosby was in dan-
ger of going out of style?

COSBY: Oh, there was a point where the
the performance, or
career—began to have trouble. In the
early Seventies, when the younger culture
went into a kind of LSD period, a lot of
legitimate showbiz people—Bill Cosby,
Harry Belafonte, Andy Williams, even
Johnny Mathis—began to feel like tum-
bleweed rolling through the back of the
theaters. The economy was in a
fans were becoming parents, the time
seemed wrong. It was tough for a lot of us.
I went to Las Vegas, worked Vegas. 1
worked conventions, onc-nighters. . . .
PLAYBOY: But you were still a young man
then, in your mid-30:

COSBY: Yeah, but I was talking old. I was

series

carcer- comedy,

talking to audiences about my marriage,
ту kids—I was out of Fat Albert by then.
I really didn't want to do “I'm a child”
anymore; I was more interested in the be-
havior of a parent toward a child
PLAYBOY: And the times finally caught up
with you. It's being said that The Cosby
Show may turn out to be the kind of come-
dic landmark that All in the Family was, so
let's spend some time on it. Few industry
nsiders expected it to survive its first sea-
son, let alone become the most popular
series on television. Have you been sur-
prised by the show's success?

COSBY: Yes, it’s gone way past what I ex-
pected. All I really wanted to do was sat-
isfy people who'd understand what I was
trying to give them—a series about a fami-
ly that seemed as real as you could get
within the confines of television, without
using vulgar or abusive language. And 1
wanted to show kids that their mothers
and fathers could be very, very firm peo-
ple, almost dogmatic, yet you'd still love
them because they have tomorrow's news-
paper and what they're saying has to do
with their love and concern for 4
PLAYBOY: Your show went to the top of the
ratings virtually from the start. What do
you think accounts for its popularity?
COSBY: Well, if vou look at Cliff Huxtable,
you sce an overachiever who knows that
merican society tends to say that certain
people can’t do certain jobs because of
their color or sex or religion. So people like
Cliff work twice as hard to prove them-
selves. But the beautiful thing about Cl
is that he’s a man who truly loves his
wife—all of her—and they both love their
children. That's really why people watch
the show—because of the family. When
the show is over, I think people have the
reaction I have to it: 1 smile and feel good.
PLAYBOY: Are you trying to educate viewers
as much as entertain them?

COSBY: Oh, absolutely. You mentioned All
in the Family. Sce, the dillerence between
Cliff and Norman Lear's Archie Bunker is
that | don't remember Archie ever
apologizing for anything, and it's a point
on our show that when СМЕ or anybody
else does something wrong, an apology is
in order. For example, on a show we called
“The Juicer,” the kids get into trouble
with Cliff after they mess with this food
processor he’s just bought. The kitchen
ends up а mess, and each of the children is
responsible for some part of what hap-
pened. But then the wife turns to Cliff and
says, “Who left the machine plugged in in
the first place?" So what we've got here is
three people who blew it in terms of re-
sponsibility, and they're talking about it.
Well, I love that.

Maybe I sound like someone who's try-
ing to sell something to an audience, but I
do have a track record in education: I
started with Sesame Street three wecks alter
it went on the air, and from there I went to
The Electric Company and to Fat Albert and
to a series about a teacher named Chet

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PLAYBOY

78

Kincaid, which ran on ABC for two years.
The idea for this show suppos-
edly originated with Brandon Tartikoff,
president of NBC Entertainment, who saw
you do a monolog about your children on
The Tonight Show. 15 that true?

COSBY: Yes, but the genesis of the show was
more complicated than that. About thr
years ago, I decided I wanted to до а TV
show that all my children could watch
without my wife and I worrying about
how it would affect them. Fd heard a lot of
people say, “I don’t want to let my chil-
dren watch television,” and I was feeling
the same way. The situation comedies all
seemed to get their laughs by using euphe-

misms for sexual parts of the bod:
jokes about boobs and butts. And if there
was a detective show on—and I’m not
talking about the Tom Selleck show now—
you'd sce cars skidding on two wheels for
half а block, or else some cat would be
droppin,
or sticking the gun in somebody's mouth.
The language was getting tougher, the
women were stripping down faster, and if
you had a five-year-old daughter,
watching men shooting bullets and draw-
ing a lot of blood.

Let me jump way ahead of what we're
discussing for a second, because I want to
tell you about a very crazy moment for

to his knees with a .357 Magnum

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me. When NBC eventually went with The
Cosby Show, they asked me to speak to a
big crowd of advertising people who were
being introduced to the network's 84-85
line-up of shows. Well, I start to talk to
them about why I wanted to do another
TV show, and on a screen right behind
me, NBC is running film clips of its new
shows, and I tell you, if they ran clips of
seven cop stories, six of them had the cars
on two wheels, the guy busting into the
room with a big gun and somebody in a
bathtub about to be blasted. Pm there
looking at this stuff and thinking. My own
network is the one I’m trying to kill oif. L
really did set out to change all that
PLAYBOY: Did Tartikoff get in touch with
you about your monolog?
COSBY: No. but word of his idea reached
Marcy Carsey and Tom Werner, two
young producers, and they set up а mece
ing with me. We agreed very quickly on
the basics of the show: The mother and
father would both be working, they'd love
cach other very much and they'd have four
children living in their New York apart-
ment. But whenever the children show
up—well, as Frank Gilford says, that’s
when the wheels come off. We were in com
plete agreement on everything unti
mentioned the guy’s occupation.
PLAYBOY: They didn't want a doctor?
COSBY: No, / wanted the guy to be а chauf-
feur. Marcy went crazy when I said that.
She told me she couldn't sce me as a cl
feur, and I said, "Hey, chauffeurs make
good money. The guy will own his own
car, meaning he'll be free to be at home at
all kinds of weird hours—especially when
his wife is working.”
PLAYBOY: Aren't you glad you ran into
Marcy Carsey?
COSBY: [Laughs] No, no, I'm not! And you
should have heard the arguments we had
when I decided I wanted my wife on the
show to be a plumber or a carpenter!
Well, I was arguing long and hard with
Marcy and Tom, but I was standing tall. 1
think I could have gotten them to go along
with me. But then I changed my mind.
PLAYBOY: Why?
COSBY: Because Camille, my wife of
years, said to те, “You will not be a chau
feur.” I said, “Why not?” And Camille
said, “Because Г am not going to be a car-
penter." I asked her, “What's the proble:
here? Is there something wrong with being
a chauffeur or a carpenter?" And she said.
“Bill, of course there's nothing wrong with
those occupations—I'd be stupid if I
thought that. But nobody is going to
believe that you're a chaufleur. Your image
has always been Temple University, col-
lege, grad school. Nobody's going to
believe it when you put on a uniform and
stand beside a car and start polishing it
And people are going to laugh in your face
се me with a hammer!” Well, I

when they
gave up on the idea right then and there.

PLAYBOY: Lets see if we have this right:
You changed your mind because your wife
felt that your TV wife's occupation—and

yours—wouldn’t square with the real image?
COSBY: Oh, no, | changed my mind not
only because 1 absolutely trust Camille
but also because at that point in the dis-
cussion, she had gotten upset with me. My
wife doesn’t get upset about casual things,
but now she was really upset; she was ask-
ing me to go visit a psychiatrist and bring
back a note. Case closed. I went back and
told Tom and Marcy they were right, and
we changed Cliff's occupation. Then they
went up to Tartikoff with it and, boom,
money came in and we did theshow.
PLAYBOY: Who decided that Cliff Huxtable
would be an obstetrician?

COSBY: I did. I wanted to be able to talk to
women who were about to give birth and
make them feel comfortable. I also wanted
to talk to their husbands and put a few
messages out every now and then.

PLAYBOY: Such as?

COSBY: That fathering a child isn’t about
being a macho man, and if you think it is,
you're making a terrible mistake. 105
about becoming a parent.

PLAYBOY: Do you think you've succeeded in
putting out those messages?

COSBY: Oh, sure. In one episode last sca-
son, a new husband comes into Cliff's of-

fice and says, “Pm the man, the head of

the household. Women should be kept
barefoot and pregnant.” Cliff tells the guy
that being a parent has nothing to do with
that kind of concept of manhood. And he
really straightens him out by telling him
that neither he nor his wife will be in
charge of the house—their children will
But this is an example of why | say I
always felt the Huxtables’ jobs have very
little to do with the show. It’s the ђећау-
ior, the dealing with the children, the deal-
ing with the wife that makes it work
PLAYBOY: But just as Cliff's profession
gives him the opportunity to make certain
points, doesn’t his wife do the same thing
in her capacity аз а lawyer?

COSBY: Yes, but I don't think what she has
to say emanates from a set of law offices
What I'm after is what happens to an indi
vidual. I'm not going after a broad social
turnaround tomorrow. How can I put it?
[Pauses] Look, I think 1 have faced these
situations enough to say that if I threw a
message out hard and heavy, Г lose view-
ers. But if the message is subtle, people
who want to find it will find it; and if they
want to make changes, they will

PLAYBOY: Which message do you mean?
COSBY: Any of them. Take the black female
lawyer who's been ina firm for seven years
and is hoping for a promotion. Generally,
if you're black and female in a white-male
firm that you've been fortunate enough to
get into, well, when you're looking for that
promotion and you don't get it, you're out
But if I put that on the show, my experi-
ence tells me no changes will come of it. So
she got the promotion.

PLAYBOY: Since it obviously doesn't always
work that way in real life, can’t you be
accused of giving yiewers—especially in
the example you just mentioned—a sugar-

. Bill Blass For

en er who understands

and colors

3 new Bill Blass Foi

PLAYBOY

coated version of reality?

COSBY: It’s my position and feeling that if I
put a situation that’s behaviorally negative
on the show—let’s say Claire deserves the
promotion and doesn’t get it— then ГИ be
putting some lawyers on the defensive
And what's the result? They'll say, “Lis-
ten, I don’t want to hear this." If some-
body doesn’t want to give you something,
they're going to continue not to give it to
you, regardless of what you say. And if.
they find you doing something they don't
like, they will at that point explain the
were about to give it to you, but now that
you've done something they don't like,
they won't give it to you. It’s my Uncle
Jack theory

PLAYBOY: Care to tel] us more about it?
COSBY: Well, 1 had an uncle Jack who
owned a bicycle shop. The man knew that
I loved bikes, and Га go down to his shop
on North Broad Street in Philadelphia and
just salivate at the sight of all those bicy-
cles. I was 12 years old and my uncle Jack
knew how much I wanted a bike, but he'd
never given me one. He let me ride bikes
inside the shop, and one day I ran into his
glass showcase and cracked it. Uncle Jack
said to те, “Bill, I was going to give you а
bike, but since you just broke my show-
case, forget about it.”

Well, at the age of 12, I just said to
myself, “Uncle Jack wasn’t going to give
me a bike anyway.” That was a valuable
lesson to learn,

your
sucs?

PLAYBOY: And ıhat has shaped
approach to dealing with social i
coser: Absolutely. By letting Claire get
her promotion, 1 feel that when the show is
rerun and rerun, there will be lawyers out
there who'll see it and who'll maybe give a
black, white or Asian female the promo-
tion those women may deserve. We always
try to put out a positive, and all the people
оп that show are very positive. The result
is that we won't have lawyers looking at
the show and saying, “Don’t tell me the
rotten guy who turned Claire down is me!”
They'll want to be smart, like the lawyer
who gave her the promotion.
PLAYBOY: If we follow your reasoning, then,
is it fair to say that The Cosby Show avoids
presenting any rotten characters?
Coser: I really try not to. Га rather have
people we all recognize and who, in their
For instance, this

own way, are funny
year, the Huxtables are making improve-
ments in their house, and we're introduc-
ing a contractor who'll be on the show
maybe five times. I love the character. The
contractor comes in to look at the work
Cliff wants done, and he tells me the three
things contractors always tell you: "I don't
know how long it’s going to take. I
don’t know what it's going to cost. And
I just don't know when I’m going to get
started, Dr. Huxtable.” I think people will
look at him working in the Huxtables
house—with cloths set up and dust rising
and the kids flying around—and say,

Yeah, that’s happened to us.”
PLAYBOY: You've already mentioned the
overlap your wife felt between your real
family and your TV family: Do the Hux-
tables have four daughters and one son
because Bill Cosby is the father of four
daughters and one son?

COSBY: Oh, sure. What's funny is that in
the beginning, we all agreed that the Hux-
tables would have four children. We had
excluded the character of my real daughter
who's away at college. It wasn't until after
we did the first show that I felt that my
oldest daughter was missing—I really
wanted her to be part of that family in
terms of my ideas. Sondra Huxtable,
who's played by Sabrina LeBeauf, а very
fine actress, is not our oldest girl, Erica.
But in terms of having that family work, in
terms of what I know, I needed an oldest
daughter away at college. My only regret
now is that we don’t give Sabrina enough
work. At the writers’ meetings, ГИ say,
“Now, look, somebody remind me that
we've got to bring Sondra home. 1 want to
sec her.”

PLAYBOY: Do the Cosby children ever get
upset because their father is duplicating or
extending some of their own foibles on
national television?

COSBY: No, because in my stand-up-
comedy work, the children have already
seen me talking about them and naming
them and embellishing what they've said
or done, and they've always been cool

about it, Sometimes they even enjoy com-
ing back to me and saying, "Oh, look,
Dad, please, I don’t want people to think
I'm like that.”

РЕАУВО!
out of real life, though, without embel-
lishment, aren't they?

COSBY: Oh. yeah. There's a story I tell
about my son, Ennis, walking around
looking real thoughtful one day when he
was 14. The boy obviously was working up
the nerve to ask me for something big—a
father knows that look. He finally came up
to me and said, “Dad, I was talking to my
friends, and they think that when I’m 16
and old enough to drive, I should have my
own car.”

“Fine. You've got wonderful friends,” I
told him. “I think it’s terrific that they
want to buy you a car.”

The boy looks at
Dad, they want you to buy the car.”

This does not come as a shock to me
“What kind of car did you have in mind?
Las!

Some of the stories are straight

me in shock. "Хо,

Gee, Dad, I think it would really be
nice to have a Corvette.”
n't fault the boy's taste in cars. I say
to him, “Look, son, a Corvette costs about
$25,000, and I can afford to buy you one
Га like to buy you a Corvette.
when you don’t do your homework and
you bring home Ds on your report card. So
ГИ make you a deal: For the next two
years, you make every effort to fulfill your

but not

potential in school, and even though Cor-
veutes will then cost about $50,000, PI
buy you one. And I won't even care if you
do bring home Ds. If your teachers tell me
d as vou could

you tried as ha and that
you talked to them every time you had a
problem with your work, well, if a D was
the best you could do, I can't ask any more
of you. Just give а 100 percent effort in
school for the next two years, and you've
got yourself a Corvette."
My son gets very quiet. Finally, he looks
up at me and savs, "Dad, what do you
think about a Volkswagen?" Young Ennis,
by the way, is now 63" tall.
PLAYBOY: Do vou ever get out on a basket-
ball court with him?
COSBY: No way. Ennis is much too quick
and too strong for me. Listen, I run in a
competition for older guys called the Mas-
ters, and if I can't beat men my own age—
which I can't—whar would I be doin
going up against a 16-year-old kid? Ennis
isa good athlete, but he's a gentleman ath-
lete. He's not from the days of yesteryear,
when you stayed out on the court for 17
hours even if the temperature reached 103
degrees. I mean, Ennis has sens
PLAYBOY: More than you had as a child?
COSBY: No question.
problem used to be—among others?
Embarrassment when I found out that
someone else was right and 1 was wrong
Fil give you an example: When I was
about 12, my grandfather said to me,

You know what my

"Don't play football until you're 21 years
old.” Now, this was a man I loved and
respec Why, Granddad?" Hc
said,
you're 91

Very quietly, I dismissed him. He was
nota high school-educated man. This was
a hard-working steel driver, Samuel Rus-
sell Cosby, but I said to myself, “This man
is trying to stop me from doing something
I want to do.” So 1 played football in jun-
ior high, I played it on the street, I played
it in high school. Got on the football team
at Philadelphia Central High School. First
game, I jumped over a guy and cracked
my humerus—my shoulder. They put a
cast on it and I was out for the season.

So Um on the sofa in our house in the
Richard Allen Projects, and my grandfa-
ther comes all the way from his house in
Germantown on the trolley car. He always
would come over to tell me a story and
give me 50 cents—the story before the
money. He was a very wise man. So this
day. he looks down at me and says—well,
its what he didn't say. He didn't say, “I
told you so." He just told me to take care
of my shoulder—and Гус never felt worse,
more embarrassed. His mere presence
PLAYBOY: What passed between the two of
you at that moment?

COSBY:-Fifty cents. [Laughs]

PLAYBOY: Getting back to the Huxtables
and the Cosbys, do you ever feel you're the
head of two families?

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COSBY: Very much so. But I don't get my
children and wife confused with the people
I work with. They're family in the same
way Bob Culp and I were family when we
worked on I Spy and still are. The people
on The Cosby Show are people I love and
for, and I have things I want for the
TV children. But when the day’s over, I
don’t have any problems with them. And I
know that Phylicia is family in the sense
that she could be my younger sister. 1 have
a deep respect and love for her
PLAYBOY: You had final say on casting The
Cosby Show. Why did you choose her to
play your wife?
COSBY: Phylicia knew how to look at a kid
when you put ай the guns on the table and
say, “You go upstairs to your room,” and
the kid knows that if he doesn’t do it,
going to find himself walking on hot co:
without his shoes on. Marcy and Dick
brought me the three finalists for every
role, and Phylicia won flat-out. In dealing
with children, some mothers yell and
nothing is happening except the sound of a
woman yelling. Phylicia was able to say
“Case closed" just with her eyes

Lisa Bonct,
an obvious winner. Lisa was just what 1
wanted for Denise—a fashion-conscious
teenager who's hip but who appears to be
a little off-center and might just decide to
become Greta Garbo. She's not on drugs
and isn’t supposed го look like she is, but I
wanted Denise Huxtable го seem a little
spaced-out, and Lisa has that quality.

Tempest Bledsoe, who plays 12-year-
old Vanessa, was clearly the best in her
category. Last year, she was the gossip
and the child with the wisecracks. This
year, she’s discovering boys, letting her
jersey flop off one shoulder and, when not
checking herself out in the mirror, is
always on the phone
PLAYBOY: Which was the toughest role to
cast?
COSBY: Thco, the son. When the three
finalists for the part read for me, the boys
all had a similar way of reacting to the par-
ent telling them to do something: They
sucked their teeth and rolled their eyes
before answering. I said the same thing to

“Do you have a
Гуси said something
to your father that way, what do you think
would happen to you?” They all gave a
sheepish smile and said they'd either wind
up going through a wall or doing a crash
landing out on the street. So I asked them
to talk to me the way they would to their
fathers, and we had the three boys go back
into the hall. When Malcolm-Jamal
Warner came back, I loved what he did.
The moves were right; he was talking to
his dad. He’s a very flexible young actor
There was another boy I liked, and 1
almost asked if I could have two sons. At
that point, I knew we were going to have
four kids in the house, and 1 wasn't too
sure I wanted one of them to be a six-year-
old girl
PLAYBOY: Why not?

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COSBY: I told Marcy we'd be there
ing for the rest of our lives if we had nat
kid. Now, Marcy was the one who wa
the teeny-weeny, and when little
Knight Pulliam came in—1 mea:
can’t argue about whether or not she’s a
beautiful little
is. But I really didn’t think I want ed to
work with someone After meet-
ing Keshia, I sai
bright and she'll be able to handle it
Well, now when people talk to me on the
street or on airplanes, they all tell me they
could just bite that litle girl—I mean
Keshia’s more than earned her keep
ting her was a very smart decision
Marcy's part, because when you look o;
the E able family, there's a kid for just
about every age group.
PLAYBOY: Do vou [ес] any pressure about
maintaining your top ranking:
COSBY: The pressure in television is to stay
in the top 20. You fight to stay alive cach
week, and you do a lot of hoping. And
meanwhile, vou've got a show to put
together and then perform, and cn route to
doing that, you watch the numbers. 105
almost as if each w yo
looking back to see how vou lived. You
know, right now, it may look like I'm the
boss, but the ratings dictate who's th
nd when the numbers drop, you get
a visit from the network SS men.
PLAYBOY: Who are those horrible people
and what tortures do they inflict?
cosey: Well, t re ccutives who seem
to get younger and younger every year,
and they say things like, “We think you
ought to try doing it our way,” which is
not what you want to do. Гуе been there
before. If and when the rating crosion
y weigh what they say, and if it’s
worth anything, you try to comply. This is
and if you don't look
u can get hurt
I sons was on for
, and suddenly the network
ve been on long enough: that’s it
adous amount of
10w going on network tele
п, but I think the actors were really
t when CBS let them go.
What did you think of The

It that it taught most of America
a different kind of sound. The char-
ech was Southern, and its
rhythms were different from what you'd
find on / Love Lucy, for instance, But
maybe not so different from what you can
still hear on The Honeymooners, becaus
Ralph Kramden, even though he wasn't
from the South, was а lower-economi
street guy. The Jeffersons got a lot of Amer-
icans who watch TV accustomed to that
sound, just as Flip Wilson and Redd Foxx
had donc. Then Richard Pryor came along
with The Richard Pryor Show, which didn't
last long —
PLAYBOY: That's the one where he said he
wanted to appear nude and the network
canceled it, right?

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COSBY: Yeah, but it had impact. It worked
on a sociopolitical level, as well as on an
educated strect level, which means you
could be sitting in the Russian Tea Room,
having blinis and having graduated from
Temple University, and enjoy it right
down to your roots.
PLAYBOY: You and Pryor met in the
when you were both coming up, right?
COSBY: Yeah. He was at the Cafe Wha?
and I was at the Gaslight.
PLAYBOY: Why did it take so much longer
for him to make it?
cosy: They wanted only one at a time.
PLAYBOY: And for then, that was you.
COSBY: Well, I came up at a time when
Dick Gregory was doing very tough politi-
cal humor, and I admired him so much I
started out doing the same thing. But then
Т decided I had to break away from that; I
felt that if Americans were going to judge
people as individuals, you didn't have to
hammer pcople over the head. So if I
played the hungry i in San Francisco and
then the Apollo in Harlem, I didn’t go to
the Apollo and load up on antiwhite mate-
rial, nor did I load up on vou-black-
people-better-get-yourself-together talk. 1
did the same show at both places and peo-
ple reacted the same way in both places:
They laughed.
PLAYBOY: People often compare your com-
edy work with Pryors and Eddie
Murphy's. What's most obvious is the dif-
ference between their use of profanity and
your avoidance of it. Has that been a cal-
culated decision on your part?
COSBY: No, it's just that Гус never been
comfortable with profanity. During the
early Seventies, there was a time when 1
used profanity on stage for about six
months. I was trying to get the audience to
understand the language between a father
and a son, and it involved a lot of cursing.
I did a bit that showed my father cursing
me and I found that the audience . . . just
was not ready for mc to curse on stage. So 1
out, and I had to find another way of.
doing that piece without using curse words.
Now, I happen to think that Richard's
way of using four-letter words and 12-
letter curse words has nothing to do with
Eddie Murphy's way of using 77-letter
curse words.
PLAYBOY: So you don't find Pryor's humor
offensive?
COSBY: Richard to me is like Lenny Bruce,
and I think a lot of what he does and says
is to try to get people to understand dif-
ferent kinds of behavior. Richard has also
developed some characters that I abso-
lutely admire, such as Mudbone and the
wino in а crap game—I've known those
people. Гус seen them, I grew up around
them and they were wonderful. Those are
not embarrassing characters. Pryor also
has a brilliant study of a man getting
drunk and coming home and wanting to
punch out his wife but being too loaded to
do anything but pass out. All of these
things are pertinent to human behavior.
Now, I wish I could explain Richard
when it came to physically abusing him-

lage

self, but I can’t, because I don’t know be-
haviorally where Richard is or was then.
PLAYBOY: You seem ambivalent in your fecl-
ings toward Eddie Murphy. What do you
think of the choices he’s made thus far?
COSBY: Listen, Eddie Murphy is a young
man who is extremely, extremely intelli-
gent. In terms of performing and self-
editing, Eddie Murphy has made a choice.
He knows what's right, he knows what's
wrong, he knows what will upset people
and what will not upset people. He has
decided he'll say what he wants to say, and
if it upsets some people, fine—but he's
going to say it, anyway. Now, I don’t hap-
pen to think of Eddie as a stand-up come-
dian. One of the reasons there are only a
few stand-up comedians, like Billy Crystal
and Jay Leno, around is that when some-
body gets hot, they go into movies—and
Eddie Murphy packs people into theaters.
The question, perhaps, then comes down
to this: Is Eddie Murphy, with his street
language, harmful?

When Murphy broke into movies in 48
HRS., I agreed with Pauline Kael of The
New Yorker, who raved about the young
man. I did not agree with the total about-
face she did on Murphy in Beverly Hills
Cop. Same fellow, right?

PLAYBOY: How did you feel when Murphy
impersonated you on Saturday Night Live
as a kind of pompous, cigar-waving Bob
Hope figure?

COSBY: I didn’t mind it. I think there are
always these positions younger people
take, coming into a field, looking at older
people and thinking, Hey, you're not that
good; I can be better. That's how you get
pupils to surpass their teachers.

PLAYBOY: So, overall, you like Murphy's
brand of humor.

COSBY: I like his movies—his movies. They
make me laugh. They make a lot of people
laugh. That's not an easy thing to do,
which is why I have a problem with the
entire entertainment industry and its
rejection of comedians. People in the in-
dustry will admit that comedy is a tough
business. They will also admit that you
have to be very intelligent to be able to get
people to laugh. Well, if we weigh and
measure the importance of making an
audience laugh and the good feeling peo-
ple get from that, why docs the record
industry always make sure it won't even
announce who won best comedy album on
the Grammy telecast? And I think it’s just
flat-out dumb for the movie industry not
to nominate funny actors like Steve Martin
for Academy Awards. Academy Award
nominations almost always go to actors
who are deeply serious and who are in seri-
ous movies. Of course, a lot of those mov-
ies are funny anyway

PLAYBOY: Are you grousing because you've
made ten movies and have yet to be nomi-
nated for an Academy Award?

cossy: Absolutely, absolutely not! What-
ever chance I ever had to be nominated
was when I was part of the big cast—
Maggie Smith, Michael Caine, Alan Alda,

Jane Fonda, Richard Pryor and me—in

California Suite. The producer of that
movie, Ray Stark, called me and told me
he was taking out ads and trying to get
everybody nominated, and I told him I
wasn't interested. It's very difficult to tell
producers that

PLAYBOY: Why did you?

COSBY: For the same reason | told the
Emmy people that I didn’t want to be
nominated for The Cosby Show: 1 remem-
ber the years with Bob Сир on I Spy,
being up against my buddy and hoping
that Pd be the one chosen for what?
Well, because it's the highest award you
can get from the television academy. OK,
I won Emmys three years run)
then 1 started hoping my televi
cials would be chosen for an Emmy over
somebody else’s television specials. But 1
wasn't making television specials in hopes
that mine would be chosen over somebody
else's. I'm not doing this situation comedy
in order to compete with Bob Newhart
and Robert Guillaume.

As far as that possible Academy Award
nomination, hey, I knew that Ray Stark
was talking to me about money, because if
you're just nominated —you don't have to
win— you'll be more in demand and you'll
be offered more money the next picture
you act in. Meanwhile, I have to tell you
my performance in California Suite was
not very good. I really didn't understand
about a third of what I was doing in that
movie.

PLAYBOY: What was the problem?

COSBY: Doc [Neil] Simon’s lines don't
knock me out; but then again, l'm not an
actor, Pm a stand-up comedian. I like a
flow from one line to another, and I just
couldn't make the connections between
Simon’s lines. That had nothing to do with
Doc's being white and Jewish. It just had
to do with me—and Pryor, too, I think—
not being a trained actor. If they'd done
our segment with black actors like James
Earl Jones, Cleavon Little, Clarence Wil-
liams HI or Al Freeman, Jr.—fellas who
know their way around Chekhov and
Ibsen and who also know their way
around the complexities of a characıer—
well, the thing would have come off better.
But 1 still enjoyed working with Richard
and I enjoyed the physical parts of our
piece—the fight and the tennis match
PLAYBOY: Despite your successful collab-
oration with Sidi Poitier in Uptown
Saturday Night, Let's Do It Again and A
Piece of the Action, movies је never
really been your medium. Has that been a
source of disappointment?

COSBY: No, because I never cared about
being a movie star. To me, that was a
gimme—you want to give it to me, fine,
Til take it. That's not to say we don't all
have fantasies about becoming movie
stars: “Oh, Fm so glad you liked my last
film. Yes, right now my agents sifting
through a pile of offers. Of course I know
that Marlon wants to work with me, but I
won't even consider it unless we find the

right director.” In reality, the ТУ series is
exactly what 1 enjoy doing.

PLAYBOY: You also once said that jazz was
an important part of your life and that you

learned a lot about comedy by watching
jazz musicians perform. Still true?
COSBY: Yeah. I started consciously listen-

ing to jazz and loving it when I was 11
years old and bought my first of
drumsticks. Pm a self-taught drummer,
and sometimes, friends of mine like Dizzy
Gillespie and Jimmy Smith will let me sit
in with them. They do that as a favor to
me, because it's no great thrill for them to
have this incompetent up there with
them—if I was really their friend, Га stay
n the audience, where 1 belong. Any
in the Fifties. Philadelphia had a lot of
small jazz clubs, and when I was 16, I'd go.
listen to musicians like Art Blakey and the
Jazz Messengers. Charlie Parker, Dizzy
Gillespie, Max Roach, Charlie Mingus
and Bud Powell. I once heard a jazz band
play The Joint Is Jumping and Cottontail
and then discovered that those two songs
are really versions of I Got Rhythm. So I
began listening more and more to the
piano players and bass players going
through intricate chord changes, and Га
also watch the next soloist thinking about
what he was going to play when it was his
turn. When I started doing comedy, |
began structuring my work the same way
jazz musicians do; to me, a joke is a tune
that has a beginning, a middle and an end.
I'm the soloist, and my chord changes are
the punch lines that make people laugh.
PLAYBOY: Can you play a little for us?
COSBY: Sure. Here's a very simple joke:
You walk into a room to get something,
and when you get there, you for
you came in. You stand there trying to
remember what you were looking lor. and
then you leave the room. Now, that’s all
there is to this particular tune. 1 start out
very simply, but en route to the room or
standing in it or coming out of it, 1 can
play any chord change I want—as long as
ius funny. 1 can go into the room, look
around and have no idea what I’m looking
for, and then one of my kids will come in
and say, “Gee, Dad, did vou forget what
you were looking for again? Boy. your
mind's really going.” That's one chord
or I can talk to myself and say
something like, “ГИ recognize what Um
looking for when I see it.” I may follow
that up with another chord change: “Well,
how do I know ГИ recognize what I'm
looking for when I see и?” I can play that
tune any way I want to, which is how a
jazz musician works
PLAYBOY: You're also now writing a book
about how to be a father, Do you consider
yourself an expert on raising children?
COSBY: Ask me anything, I’ve got the an-
swer. You know. when I first became a
parent, I had certain ideas about how [
was going to control the children, and they
all boiled down to this: Children just need
love. Well, some years later, vou find your-

self talking to your child, who is of high
intelligence, and saying, "No, you cannot
drive the car until you get a learner’s per-
mit." And then, ten minutes later, you see
your car being driven down the street by
the same child you just told not to drive it.
When the child gets back and gets out of
the car, you have the following conversa-
tion: “Was that you driving the car?"
“Yes.” "Why?" “Well, I just wanted to see
if T could do it.” “But didn’t I tell you not
to drive it?" "Yes." ^

“Well, if I told you not
to drive the car, why were you driving it?"
“I don't know.” Well, to me, that's brain.
damage. All children have that kind of.
brain damage. Parents should prepare
themselves to face that fact.

PLAYBOY: 15 there anything vou can до
about it?

COSBY: Not much. Which is why you wind
up doing a lot of yelling. There have been
times when Гуе felt like а football coach in
the locker room at half time, and here we
are, 16 points down against a team we're
favored to beat by three touchdowns. And
there I am, saying to this team, “Listen, if
we win this game, we can go to the Super
Bowl!" And Um looking ага team that just
won't wake up, though I know what they
can do if they start to play. So now Pm
kicking the benches, because I realize 1
might as well be talking to the walls, and I
probably am.

If уоште a father, you get to be very
familiar with that situation, I don’t know
how many times I wanted one of the kids
to go in a certain direction and the child
wanted to go in another direction that I
knew was no good for the kid, so I gave
maybe my 55th reading on why the child
should go in the direction / was pointing
to. And there 1 am, putting in love, in-
ng in presents, resorting to outright
bribery in the form of cold cash and even
invoking racial pride. I mean, I'm telling
my daughter that black America is wa
for her, that she cannot disappoint Ha
Tubman—I'm giving it my best shot. And
when Em finally done, my little girl turns
to me and says, “Gee, Dad, I don’t think 1
want to do that.”

PLAYBOY: Have you ever lost your temper
and physically lashed out at your children?
COSBY: | was physical with my son just
once, very physical, but not because I lost
my temper. I just didn't see any other way
of getting him to make a change, so along
with being physical with him, I begged
him to und. ind that I truly, truly loved
him and that he had to understand that
what I'd asked him to do was best for him.
And I really wouldn't—and didn't—lceave

vesti

until he understood th I stayed and
poured out what was in my heart until he
accepted the fact that I did the physical

thing because 1 finally didn’t see where
talking to him had done any good. And
that I meant for him to do exactly what I
said and that 1 wanted him to understand
he had no choice in this particular matter.
And my son made a change.

Now, I don't want anyone to think Fm

advocating physical punishment, because
that doesn't always work, either. When I
was a kid, I don't know how many beat
ings | got for differe
matter of my priori
parents and what I thought I could get
with

as your children have gotten older,
re’s simply no dissuading them from a
course of action you oppose?
COSBY: Yes, that’s happened. We live in an
ademic environment, and Camille and I
feel that formal cducation is the best way
to go for our kids, but one of our chik
dren—who's entitled to privacy on this—
has told us, “I really don't want to learn
the technical aspects of anything; I just
want to be out on my own.” Obvious
this child has a better idea. So we let the
child ро. No one’s getting kicked out of
the house, and we're not pulling away the
safety net. We have phone numbers, and
the person is to call any time there’s any
trouble. But we're also saying, “This is
your idea, and you're going to have to earn
the right to be on your own. You get no
money from us toward your support.” In
other words, the kid's really out there. It's
not one of those things where the parents
say, “OK, go do it,” and then they get a
call and the child says, “Сес, folks, Гуе
got this phone bill to pay and I need a
car." We're telling this child, “You have to
fanction on your own if you want to live
the lifestyle you've chosen for yourself.”
All our children have met a lot of black
Americans who have succeeded, who have
achieved and who are highly educated
The choice this child has made seems to
be, “Listen, there's a lot of fun to be had
out there." And it's disheartening. How-
ever, when I look at my own life and some
of the choices I made when I was young—
you just nev
PLAYBOY: Do you think you may be too de-
manding, expecting perfection from others?
COSBY: Oh, I know that everything's not
perlect. I mean, 1 see how people love the
Huxtable television family. and then I
turn around and look at South Africa and
hear my Government saying, “Well, we've
got to take it easy,” and 1 know every:
thing’s not perfect. To have a man like
Jerry Falwell invoking the name of Jesus
and talking about spending $1,000,000 to
strengthen South Africa's segregationist
government—believe me, I know every
thing's far from perfect
PLAYBOY: How do you feel a
icy toward South Africa?
COSBY: Fm actually embarrassed as an
American that our Government—the one
that’s in office now—has done so little to
пре the situation there. Can't we be
enough of a big brother to South Africa to
take our younger brother very gently
around the shoulders and say, “How do
you feel?” Not necessarily “Little brother,
you're wrong," but at least say, “Take a
look at us. Democracy isn't as bad as you
think.” Instead, we go over and dance

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PLAYBOY

with that brother and we give a clear mes-
sage to the world that the United States is
pro-apartheid. I was shocked that а repre-
sentative of the Reagan Administration
went on TV to chastise Bishop Tutu for
not attending a meeting with President
Botha, who had basically said, “I don't
care what anybody else says or thinks,
apartheid will remain the law of this
land—but you can come to my meeting,
Bishop Tutu.” Once again, we got ту
Uncle Jack working. And what isn’t he
going to give the black people of South
Africa? Look at America’s doctrine of de-
mocracy, and then read what the South
African government says an individual can
nd cannot say and where black South
Africans can and cannot live, and then
read about how people who oppose the
government—who simply disagree with
it—are imprisoned. If black South Afri-
cans want democracy, Uncle Jack will be
glad to tell them why he has decided not to
give it to them—it’s because they had the
nerve to ask for it.

PLAYBOY: What would you like President
Reagan to do about South Africa?

COSBY: Why hasn't he seen to it that
somebody in the Government has stood
upand said, “The Reagan Administration
believes that this apartheid, this ki i
wrong, and you've got to clean up your
act"? | am waiting for somebody in the
Government of the United States of Amer-
ica, the land of opportunity, to say to its
little brother South Africa, “You gotta stop
this. Period. Forget that you're making us
look bad—morally, you have to slop this!”
PLAYBOY: What do you believe is going to
happen in South Africa?

COSBY: I think that in our first Interview, I
made a statement about the U.S. in which
I said that black Americans would never
again sit still for segregation or discrim-
ination. And now, in 1985, my statement is
that black South Africans have reached
that same moment in time, If the white
South African government decides to kill
and go to war, there will bea war. But that
government will not be able to hold on to
the country without a war. Too many black
South Africans are now saying, “If I have
to live as a third-class citizen under the
rule of apartheid, if this is to be my life,
then I don’t want to live.” There's no
turning back for the blacks of South
Africa. Now, I'm not saying or thinking
that South African blacks are going to
slaughter South African whites and run
them all out of the country and then say,
“This is our land.” Pm only telling you
that those people will no longer tolerate
apartheid. All they want is to live like
human beings.

PLAYBOY: When you spoke about race rela-
tions in the U.S. 16 years ago, you were
very pessimistic about the future. What
are your feelings about the subject today?
COSBY: The same, and it isn’t just blacks
and whites—i’s about what's happe
among all people in the U.S. More and
more in this country, we're not able to say

the word American for everybody who
lives here. Even the movie industry—
maybe especially the movie industry—
commits almost blatant crimes with some
of the films it puts out. In Year of the
Dragon, one white man walks into China-
town and decimates the place. This again
reminds everybody who's nonwhite that
he can be mistreated—and we're still talk-
ing about Americans. For God’s sake, if
you grew up when I did and you were
black, when you went to the movies and
saw Tarzan, you were told that you could
just drop a white baby out of a plane and
by the time he was 16, he'd be running the
entire jungle. This year, if you're black,
you can go see a cult film popular with
kids—and one of the dumbest pictures
ever made—The Gods Must Be Crazy,
which shows that if you just drop a Coke
bottle out of an airplane, you can pretty
much shake up an entire African culture.
[Laughs sarcastically] Black people cer-
tainly are primitive, aren't they? If you
want proof, send in a white film make
PLAYBOY: Let's close on your career. With
everything going so well for you, why have
some reporters written that this latest

“When someone says
something dumb, I won’t
help him out of the hole.

I won't smash the
shovel down, but I
let people know.”

burst of success has made you difficult,
arrogant? What's that all about?

COSBY: It’s all about when I sav no. It's all
about how I look at someone when he
knows he's said something dumb and I
won't help him out of the hole. It's not that
I pile the dirt on top of him and smash the
shovel down, but I guess I let people know
when I think a question or a statement is
rude or dumb or whatever. A woman from
TV Guide recently interviews me and
wants to do amateur psychoanalysis. A
photographer from the Los Angeles Times
poses me this way and that way for what
seems like an hour, and I finally tell her I
think Гус done what she wants. They're
going to tell people I wes arrogant.
PLAYBOY: How do you feel when you're ac-
cused of not being outspoken enough in
your show on matters of race and politic:
COSBY: It depends on the person making
the attack. If it’s just some neoliberal who
feels 1 should be a martyr—you know, the
kind who says I should take my show, tell
everything like it really is and get canceled
in three weeks—that person has no idea
what life is all about. And neoliberals have
a great deal of racism in their hearts. Why

else would they tell you to go out and get
your brains blown out?

PLAYBOY: Who are these ncoliberals—
members of the press?

COSBY: That's what I’m talking
press.

PLAYBOY: Still, you've gotten a lot of very
good press lately, most of it centered on
the way you’ve become almost a national
father figure—which means that the
media will continue to ask you a lot of
daddy questions. Do you have any parting
advice on that topic?

COSBY: I’m doing a book on being a father.

ICI be out around Father's Day.

PLAYBOY: You've alrcady discussed the sub-
ject with us, and the book wouldn’t pre-
clude some remarks from you on the
subject, would it?

COSBY: It might. The publishers have paid
гас ап awful lot of moncy. And since this is
only one brain I've got. . .

PLAYBOY: Come on, Bill. This is the Playboy
Interview—some of our readers are
fathers, and even more are moving into
that time of life.

COSBY: Yeah, I think that the subjects
we've talked about are interesting—espe-
cially for pLaygov—because what you have
here is a guy saying that he’s given all of
himself to his wife and children. I think
that may turn some lights on.

PLAYBOY: So we'll press you: What's your
parting advice to people who'll soon be
parents?

COSBY: Well, I speak to my son and daugh-
ters about heroes, people whom we look
up to for various reasons. What is it we
worship about a person? What is it that
makes that person a hero to you? And if it
that the person is perfect, then you
really haven’t done an honest job on усиг-
self, because people are not perfect. Edwin
Moses is a great track star who this year
was arrested for possession of marijuana
and soliciting a prostitute. The ТУ net-
works picked up on it, and then came all
these discussions about “What are our
heroes coming to?” Now, I felt sorry for
Edwin, but then I also felt, Well, Us
true, am I going to be angry with him and
not think that he is a great athlete any-
more? I told my children what Edwin was
charged with, and 1 said, “I still want you
to look at Edwin Moses as a hero." They
said, “Well, Dad, how can we after he’s
done this?” I said, “Even if he’s found
guilty, are we going to trash what this man
has done, which is to win 109 races in a
row?” We became fans because he’s a man
who worked eight to ten hours a day, pun-
ishing himself to get in shape to achieve his
dream, We all said, “What a great athlete;
what a great man dedicated to achieving
his poten That's what we can say
about Edwin Moses. We've got to examine
who and what a hero is and how far we,
the fans, go in putting these people up on
pedestals. They're not perfect, but then
again, neither are we.

about, the

WHAT SORT OF MAN
READS PLAYBOY?

Јо и brag a lot about his 33 Emmys. He's in
it more for the fun than for the glory. That's why he
still spends his Sundays on the side lines, filming foot-
ball. “I’m just a shameless sports fan,” Steve Sabol
says. “I still love every minute of it.”

With his father, Ed, Sabol started NFL Films 22
years ago with one camera and a $5000 bank roll.
Today, shooting 500 miles of film a year, it's the larg-
est 16mm-film company in the world. “We've been

са

successful," Sabol says, “because we try to give a cre-
ative treatment to reality, seeing what others have
seen but thinking what no one has thought

“pravo does the same for me. From its fiction to
its news makers, it’s the most diverse magazine
around. It stimulates, educates and útillates. [t has a
wonderful way of cutting to the essence.”

Steve Sabol, an innovative man who knows about
quality eur Ee sodann Shoe sro kd

PHOTOGRAPHED FOR PLAYBOY BY WILLIAM COUPON.

when princeton’s
most famous coed cuts
her foot, her
fans are the ones
who bleed

PEOR

Wo

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р

WALKS ON GLASS

personality By O'CONNELL DRISCOLL

YOU RE HERE
“Just barely,

made a mo

herself.

“I was wondering.” Eddy Jo said. She
carried three spiral notebooks, cradled
her arms like a fat baby. She wore a whit
jacket with CIRCUS or THE STARS writ-
ten on it, and she had a blonde hairdo that
ad like a batting helmet.
he pl ded about an hour ago,
Teri said. She was a plump woman,
dressed in an ove aded-khaki shirt
and blue jeans. “Brooke's dressing now.
You don't have a Kleenex, do vou?

Eddy Jo shook her head.

think Um allergic,
ing her nose. “All these animals around.”

А few fect away, an orangutan perched
on a folding chair. It was attended by а
Nordic-looking young man in a tuxedo.
The orangutan wore a red tutu апа held
the young man's hand, with a satisfied
smirk on its face

"So?" Eddy Jo said. “Whats n

“ls been a long day." T

аду Jo said
Teri Shields said. She
f to sneeze, then caught

pinch-

"Brooke had t0 go into Manhattan. this
morning to loop the dialog for her movie ol
the week.”

“She did a movie of the week this morn-

id. "иза
w a black-

1 the dialog," Teri s
cute movie, I think. We only 5
г the looping.

Eddy Jo said. "That's

“But it’s cute.
good.”
hen we got on the plane, flew I
got the limousine, got to the hotel — I'm
not even sure what time it is." She checked
her watch. “Brooke did her homework on
the plane, while she was watching The
Terminator tor the fourth time.
“Its the desert.” Eddy Jo said.
“What's that?” Teri said.
The desert

Vegas That's why
© allergic.

I think it's the animals.”
looked at the orangutan.
holding a banana. It grinned back furious-
displaying the half-peeled fruit as if it

л sexual device

Monkeys,” Eddy Jo snilled.

approached them, carrying an
of combs and brushes, a can of

yo

Teri said. She
which was now

ILLUSTRATION BY PATER SATO

5

РОБА BOY:

hair spray and a box of tissues. His hair
was cut as closely as a putting green.

“Brooke's just getting dressed," Teri
told him.

“I saw her," he said. He didn't look
happy. “Нег coif is falling. Tomorrow
we're going to have to keep her hair up.
Way, way up. All day long."

"Ieri took a handful of tissues from the
box, turned her head and sneezed.

“Bless you," the hairdresser said. “For
now, we'll have to do, I don't know. .. .”
He looked at the can of spray and shot off a
fine mist. "Something."

Teri looked at her watch again. She
shook it and held it up to her ear. Eddy Jo
rocked her spiral notebooks as if the baby
were waking up.

“So vou're going to start taking it easy,”
Ed said.
eri looked at her in surprise. “I’m not
taking it easy,” she said. “What are you
talking about?”

“On the phone,” Eddy Jo said. “You
told me you'd been talking to William
Morris. I thought you were going to relax
a little, you know. Not do so much.”

“William Morris?" Teri said, shocked.
liam Morris manage Brooke?"

“Well, 1 just thought,” Eddy Jo said.

Teri started to laugh so hard she had to
beat her chest with her hand.

“God help us,” she said. “William
Morris.” She dabbed at the corners of her
eyes with a tissue. “No, that was a movie
they were talking about. This will grab
you, Eddy Jo. They wanted her to play
Pocahontas.”

“Pocahontas?” Eddy Jo said. She tilted
her head to one side. “Who do you mean,
the Indian?”

“Yeah, can you see that? Miss Blue
Eyes? With feathers?”

“Different,” Eddy Jo said.

“That's why they're not handling her
career,” Teri said. “Here comes the Indian
princess now.

Brooke Shields emerged from a dressing
trailer parked next to a red-and-white cir-
cus tent. She was dressed in a red-
sequined ringmistress jacket, а high-cut
black leotard, fish-net stockings and four-
inch black heels. She was escorted by a
muscular bodyguard wearing a copper-
colored suit.

“How do I look, Mom?” Brooke said.
She held a green apple in her hand.

“You look good,” Teri said. She took a
lock of Brooke's hair and held it up as if
she were inspecting for traces of white fly.

“They're waiting for you to get made
up.” Teri said.

Brooke took a bite of her apple and nod-
ded.

“He'll do something with your һай

Eddy Jo watched Brooke walk away and
said, “God, she's tall.”

“And she's not getting any shorter,"
Teri said.

"She's doing an act?” Eddy Jo asked.

“ү

“Well, she was just supposed to host,”
Teri said. “But she’s done an act every
year, so it would seem like, you
know... .”

“A disappointment?”

“I guess.”

“Ts that what they said:

“Something like that. So she’s going to
do this thing, this glass walk.”

“What's that?” Eddy Jo said. "She's
going to walk on glass?”

“Broken glass,” Teri said. “Broken Dr
Pepper bottles; that’s what the man told
me. He’s some sort of specialist at this. He
says that Dr Pepper bottles make a better
crunching sound underfoot.”

“Gosh,” Eddy Jo said. “I mean, broken
glass.” She had to stop and think about it.
“Isn't that dangerous?”

Teri shrugged lightly.

“They say it really isn’t,” she said.
“They say if you put enough glass down,
it’s like a level surface.”

She made a flat-handed motion in the
air. "That's what they say, anyway. Неге
the costume she’s wearing.”

A wardrobe girl came up holding a gold,
jeweled harem outfit that looked like it
came from a college production of Kismet.

“Very different,” Eddy Jo said.

“Put it in the trailer,” Teri said. “It’s
the one with no hot water and no toilet
paper.”

She looked at Eddy Jo and smiled
faintly.

“Maybe William Morris could help
after all.”

.

Merv Griffin, wearing a tuxedo with se-
quined lapels, his face thick with make-up,
put an arm around Brooke Shields's waist
and looked up into her eyes.

"How's the weather up there?” he
asked.

There was an explosion from a strobe
light and a voice said, “Love it!”

Griffin stepped aside and his place was
taken by Emmanuel Lewis.

“Better get a chair for him to stand on,”
someone said.

“A chair? Better get a ladder,” someone
else said.

“Never mind,” Brooke said. She
reached down and effortlessly scooped
Emmanuel up into her arms. The little
black boy put one arm around her neck
and smiled brilliantly.

А mocha-skinned photographer, sport-
ing riding breeches and highly polished
knee-high boots, shot off a burst on his
Nikon. “That's cool,” he said.

Teri stood a few feet away, watching
Brooke on the photo stand. “I feel like I'm
about to drop,” she said.

The bodyguard, sitting in a folding
chair with his arms crossed, got to his
feet.

“Teri, please,” he said. “Sit.”

“He doesn’t look all that big for a body-
guard,” Eddy Jo said under her breath.

“He carries a gun,” Teri said, sinking
wearily onto the chair. “Нез big
enough.”

A bearded man who looked like he
could be John Huston’s younger brother
came over. He was also wearing a CIRCUS OF
The STARS jacket and was smoking a pipe.

“You going to stay out here for a few
days?" he said to Teri. “Take it easy?"

“Everybody wants me to take it easy all
of a sudden,” Teri said. “No, we're going
back tomorrow night. Brooke has to be in
school on Monday.”

“School,” the man said. “Jesus, she
goes to school; that’s right.”

“Yeah, I'm trying to get reservations
now, but everybody’s full out of Las
Vegas.”

“Why don’t you fly that ritzy airline?
‘The hell’s the name of it?”

“Regent,” Teri said. “They don't fly out
of here. We'll have to catch a late flight out
of Los Angeles that'll get us to New York
about six in the morning. Then a heli-
copter will pick Brooke up and take her
back to Princeton.”

“She did her homework on the plane,”
Eddy Jo said to the bearded man.

“PI be goddamned,” he said.

Teri caught Brooke’s eye and made a
head-raising motion. Brooke looked back,
closed her eyes and dropped her chin to
her chest.

“Only thirty-six more, Teri," one of the
photographers said.

“Oh, great, Only thirty-six.”

Eddy Jo bent over and spoke quietly
into Teri’s ear. “There are some kids
who've been waiting to see Brooke,” she
said. *I don't know if you can fit it in."

She gestured with her head across the
room. A young mother and father waited
patiently with their three little children, all
asleep on their feet, each holding a balloon
and an autograph book.

“They've been waiting
o'clock," Eddy Jo said

"Six o'clock?" Teri said. “God, that’s
six hours.”

“I can deal with it if you want me to,”
Eddy Jo said.

Brooke stepped down from the photo
stand and took off her high heels. “1 want
to go to sleep," she said.

"In a minute," Teri said.
something I want you to do first

She led Brooke over to where the chil-
dren were waiting. They watched with
expressions of awe, as if they were sceing a
vision,

“This is such a thrill!” their mother said
as Brooke signed each of the children’s
books. “They just adore you!”

since six

“There's

“Take a picture if you want,” Teri said
to the father. “Brooke, get in there in back
ofthem.”

Brooke bent her knees and dipped
down, posing herself in back of the chil-
dren like they were all a singing group.

(continued on page 126)

“Mr. Olson is about to do his ‘hung by the chimney
with care’ stunt again.”

LIKE FATHER,
LIKE SON

the offspring of famous actors have a way with
clothes that’s all their own

fashion By HOLLIS WAYNE

ACK WHEN movies were movies and men didn't talk about clothes—they just wore

^п you could tell a man by his duds: There was the trench coat that Bogey

made famous in Casablanca, the sheepskin jacket Kirk Douglas wore in Gunfight

at the OK Corral, the baggy overcoat worn by Harpo Mars in his films and even
the executive suit worn by Jack Lemmon in The Apartment. Well. great fashions, like great
movies, always have revivals, and the distinctively masculine clothes of the Forties are
back. We asked the sons of Bogey, Douglas, Harpo and Lemmon to pose for famous Holly-
wood photographer George Hurrell, decked out in our selection of the year's best
retrofashions. They also shared with us their own fashion preferences

Stephen Bogart, a general-assignment editor for NBC Network News, likes to dress
casually: “Jeans, T-shirts, polo shirts. I hate ties. They re sexist.” When told that he was
fairly impressive in the Casablanca look, Bogart replied diplomatically. “I like the hat."
He's presently working on a remake of The Treasure of the Sierra Madre, one of his father’s
most memorable films

Bill Mars. currently on the talk-show circuit, promoting his father’s reissued
autobiography, Harpo Speaks!, says, “Some days. I like to dress up. because that’s the feel-
ing 1 песа for that day. The best thing is to wear custom-made dress shirts. Somehow, they
feel better to me.” Marx. а jazz pianist, composer and arranger. is also a funny man: “The
difference between Harpo and me is that he chased blondes>-1 chase anything”

Eric Douglas, one of Kirk's four sons. says. “I feel comfortable wearing as little as
possible." However, he says he loves the Western look. “Irs very much like me. I like to
pretend that I'm a cowboy back in the 18005." Douglas, who has followed his father and
older brother Michael into an acting carcer, has had roles in the movies The Flamingo Kid
and Tomboy and in a made-for-TV movie, Remembrance of Love. in which he played his
father’s character as а young man

Chris Lemmon, whom we dressed in the kind of threads his dad wore in the film The
Apartment, recalls, “Dad always said simple was best, so 1 try to wear nothing whenever
I can. However. when I do dress up, I like to make an occasion out of it.” Lemmon, an
actor who has just completed two films (Hollywood Air Force Base and Yellow Pages), sums
up our sentiments about the current retrospective trend in men's clothing: "It's nice to
scc nifty clothing like this come back in style.” Here's lookin’ at you, kids.

PHOTOGRAPHY BY GEORGE HURRELL

одаг?
plays it again іп а wool double-breasted
pinstripe suit, by Hugo Boss, $475; cot-
ton shirt, by Alan Flusser, $75; silk tie,
by Hathaway, $23.50; felt hat, by 5tet-
son, about $65; and Bogey’s classic call-
ing card—a cotton double-breasted
bird's-eye-weave trench coat with epau-

lets, by Cerruti 18B1, $550.

С осмо

Bill Marx's
all-wool outfit speaks for itself with a
greatcoat, by WilliWear WilliSmith,
$235; lightweight turtleneck, by Aus-
tralian Outback Collection, $140; twil
slacks, by Barry I. Bricken, about $175;
and a cashmere scarf, by Ermene:
Zegna, about $97.

and the lean honcho look—a wool-
shearling-blanket striped jacket in
muted earth tones, by Robert Comstock,
$385; worn over а Burgundy wool-
challis Western-style bib shirt, from
Acorn by Bob Goldfeder, $120; and
brown embossed double-pleated slacks,
by Philippe Monet, about $300.

mmon
cuts the comedy when it comes to select-
ing а business suit. His choice: a wool/
silk single-breasted suit with а nubby
surface, notch lapels and flap pockets,
$570, a tab-collar striped shirt, $47.50,
both by Valentino Uomo; and a
geometric-patterned wool tie, by Valen-
tino Cravatte, $35.

ےا

WHY DRUG ENFORCEMENT
DOESN’T WORK

The Reagan Administration says
мете winning the war on drugs,
and yet...

MORE DRUGS OF HIGHER QUALITY ARE ON THE STREETS

OFFICIAL ESTIMATES OF WORLD SUPPLY ARE LAUGHABLY LOW

SOME DRUG TRAFFICKERS GROSS MORE THAN THE DEA BUDGET

In short, the Government that
tells you we’re winning this war
is again exaggerating the body counts

J ACK DEVOE was 2 Miami pilot who became a drug smuggler
He made more than 100 flights carrying 7000 pounds of
cocaine to the U.S. from South America. He had so much money
that he founded an aviation school, a commuter airline and five
other businesses. He carried his moncy to the bank in plastic gar-
bage bags

5 Garcia was another drug-smuggling pilot. He testified
before the President's Commission on Organized Crime that his
boss, a man named Victor, “kept a large supply of cash in the
trunk of his car and told me when I needed money I was simply
to take what 1 needed. This is typical of the amount of money
that even smalltime dealers have at their disposal." The assets
(not including the drugs) and the cash seized by the Drug
Enforcement Administration in 1983 totaled $235,000,000. In
1982, the DEA seized assets including a Tiffany Favrile vase that
brought a record $64,900 at auction.

In one case—the arrest of Paolo LaPorta in Philadelphia—the
DEA took $2,500,000 in cash and assets. Another suspect was
photographed using a hand truck to wheel a cardboard carton

ining $4,500,000—a single deposit—into a bank. He was
arrested shortly thereafter. In another case, Donald Steinberg
grossed $10,000,000 in 1978—about half the DEA budget for
that year. Isaac Kattan, a money launderer, processed more
than $200,000,000 a year. When he was arrested, he had

$383,404 on his person. Kattan had many money-counting
machines. Today, it is customary for drug traffickers to weigh
their money rather than count it.

One of Colombia’s top drug barons, Gonzalo Rodriguez, is
said to make $20,000,000 a month. That’s $666,666.67 a day. A
man could live on that. In fact, a man could haye his own an
set up his own city and declare himself independent of his native
country, which is what many drug producers have done, not only
in South America but in southern Asia as well. Pablo obar
Gaviria, the mastermind of a Colombian drug empire, is credited
with inventing the South American cocaine trade as it is known
today. His personal army is estimated at more than 2000 men.
(For comparison, the United States Drug Enforcement Adminis-
tration has 1800 agents.) Gaviria’s personal wealth may well ex-
ceed two billion dollars. Roberto Suarez Gómez is the ruler of a
renegade state high in the forests to the east of the And
Mountains in Bolivia. The peasants who live there are his serfs
They produce coca. Suarez is thought to carn some $33,000,000
a month.

There is more money in illegal drug traffic than in any other
business on earth. That is a powerful incentive for a lot of peop!
so powerful that experts who have been studying the problem for
years believe that all our efforts to stop drug traflickers are
doomed to fail. They further believe that there is no way to stop
drugs from being produced, short of taking away the financial

article

By LAURENCE GONZALES

incentive. There is abundant evidence that these experts are
right: In spite of the largest antidrug effort in history, more
drugs of higher quality are being sold at lower prices on
American streets than ever before.

And yet the Reagan Adi ration is still bent on sealing
U.S. borders by military might and on punishing both the
users of drugs and the countries that produce them, what-
ever the cost, The President announced his war on drugs
when he first took office, In The War on Drugs
(тллувоу, April 1982), I documented the beginnings of that
campaign. I showed how a national effort, conceived in the
¢ and spawned at the grass-roots level, was
| liberties and threatening
constitutional rights in the name of
fighting drug abuse. Nancy Reagan
spearheaded the campaign, appear-
ing before parents’ groups around the
world to encourage legislative action
aimed at controlling drugs. President
Reagan appointed an energetic anti-
marijuana spokesman named Dr.
Carleton Turner, an organic chemist
from Mississippi, as his special assist-
ant on drug-abuse policy.

In Cocaine (елувоу, September
1984), I examined addictive disease,
showing that “the addictiye proper-
ties of a substance appear to be far
less important than a person’s tendency to become
addicted.” Medical research points to the fact that while
certain drugs can produce physical dependence, most indi-
viduals will not willingly take those drugs, even after experi-
encing their effects. A small percentage of the population,
however, will become fully addicted. Of that group, the
medical classic The Pharmacological Basis of Therapeutics, by
Goodman and Gilman, says, “Those who persist in the use
of drugs, in spite of the social pressures against such use,
and eventually become compulsive users of narcotics, have
personality disturbances that antedate their contact with
the drug."

In other words, drug addiction should rightly be viewed
by the Government as a medical problem, not a criminal
one. It has taken a long time for people to accept alcoholism
as a disease. Now many employers are realizing that cocaine
addiction works the same way and that rehabilitation is
cheaper than hiring new employees.

But the Government persists in relegating the entire prob-
lem to the criminal-justice system. In January 1983, Reagan
appointed Vice-President George Bush to lead the nation’s
drug-law-enforcement efforts. Three years later, the U.S.
war on drugs is going full tilt, and as Congressman Dante B.
Fascell, chairman of the Foreign Affairs Committee,
announced in The New York Times in January 1985, “The
bottom line is that, despite some encouraging develop-
ments, particularly in Colombia, the war is being lost.”

* We are losing money: U.S. taxpayers are spending more
than two and a half billion dollars for the Drug Enforcement
Agency, State Department and Coast Guard antidrug
efforts. Many more hundreds of millions are spent by other
agencies and organizations. In spite of the increase of Fed-
eral dollars devoted just to drug interdiction from an esti-
mated $83,000,000 in 1977 to $278,000,000 in 1983, m
J. Anderson of the General Accounting Office was forced to
admit, “Recent estimates indicate the quantity of drugs sup-
plied to the illicit U.S. market has increased. . . . Recent
Street price and purity statistics indicate an increased avail-
ability of most drugs." Congressman Glenn English said,
“The old common rule of thumb is that if purity is up and

“There is more money
in illegal drug traffic
than in any other
business on earth.”

price is down, there must be more availability.” There
hasn't even been a Federal effort to count all the money
being spent to stop drug use.

* We are losing people: The kidnap/torture/murder of DEA
agent Enrique Camarena Salazar and pilot Alfredo Zavala.
focused global attention on drug trafficking carly in 1985.
That came after some notable successes in American-
Colombian antidrug efforts. Now the Colombian drug deal-
ers are offering а $350,000 reward for anyone who will bring
them the head of Francis “Bud” Mullen, head of the DEA
from November 1983 to spring 1985. There are also
$300,000 rewards for several other U.S. narcotics agents.
Traffickers tried to destroy the U.S.
embassy in Bogotä with a car bomb
that killed a woman. In May 1984,
Colombia's justice minister, Rodrigo
Lara Bonilla, was assassinated when
two men sped up to his car on a
Yamaha motorcycle, gunned him
down and fled into traffic. They were
believed to be doing the bidding of the
infamous Pablo Escobar Gaviria.
Nineteen members of an American-
backed team trying to eradicate coca
plants in Peru were hacked to death in
the jungle. Four of them were brutally
tortured first. Colombian and Boliv-
ian drug lords have joined in offering
$500,000 to anyone who will kill U.S. Ambassador to
Bolivia Edwin Corr. And recently, ten American diplomats
stationed in Colombia were sent on extended holiday with
their families after death threats were received from drug
smugglers.

Nor is the violence just on foreign soil: At the height of the

“cocaine wars” in Miami, 28 percent of all murders in that
were committed with a machine gun.

* We are losing civil liberties: Laws designed to maintain
basic freedoms in America have been altered or undone їп а
misguided effort to stop drug traffic. The Bill of Rights and
various constitutional amendments were drafted to provide
protection from the powers of government.

But the Reagan Administration, desperate for results in
the war on drugs, appears willing to forfeit the precepts of
democracy. And people all over the country seem to be
going along, unaware of the damage they may be doing to
their own civil liberties. For example, many employers
require job applicants to submit to urinalysis screening for
marijuana and other drugs. An early draft of the Reagan
Administration’s drug-war strategy suggested that if the test
proved positive, the doper should be held in detention with-
out trial until he could be treated for and “cured” of his af-
fliction. Thus, the Administration claims it does, in fact,
view drug addiction as a disease and is willing to treat it—if
we'll do away with the bother of constitutional guarantees
against pretrial detention.

In addition, Reagan is using the military to enforce
domestic law, a clear violation of the Posse Comitatus Act,
which was designed to prevent abuses of military power—
including the appearance of a police state. (Congress, in
what many legal authorities think was a poorly thought-out
move, voted to make an exception for drug enforcement.)
The National Guard has been called out to assist in raiding
domestic marijuana plantations in 30 states. Numerous
other measures taken by Reagan and by local state officials
following his lead have undermined the protections afforded.
by the exclusionary rule, the Tax Reform Act, the Freedom
of Information Act, the Habeas Corpus Act, as well as the
Fourth, Fifth, Sixth, Eighth and (continued on page 238)

“Frankly, Alison, the idea ој a threesome really messes with my sense
of romantic idealism!”

At left, the lady is wearing a silver-ond-white tasseled dress with a porous, patterned top, fram Pilar Limasner; earrings and bracelet, by Eric Bea-
mon; shoes, from La Marca. Above, her dress is by Tony Chase; jewelry, by Kenneth Lane; shoes, from La Marca. His tuxedo is by After Six.

barely here

sight-seers, rejoice!
here's the sexiest
array of see-through
fashion in the free
world

PHOTOGRAPHY BY JEFF DUNAS

ince the advent of

central heating,

clothes have become

morc than somcthing
to kecp you warm. And,
naturally, people have
taken advantage of that
fact. Especially women.
These days, nothing
seems to shock. Fash-
ion—real, out-there,
actually worn fashion—
has become a laissez-
faire market place. Here
we see actual night peo-
ple going about their
giddy nightly business.
We hope we get invited
to the same parties.

111

Above left, she is weoring а shocking-pink suit with unreodable lettering, by Stephen Sprouse, into which she tucks а dark cloud of a blouse with wrist
occents, by Eleanor P. Brenner. The silver-latticework skirt, pink blouse and silver gloves opposite are from La Coppia; shoes, from La Morca.

ressing up now

means hardly dress-

ing at all. This is

especially true when
taking in a little sun. Re-
sortwear has a flimsy
history, but women these
days can drape them-
selves with fabric sun
screen that may deflect
some ultraviolet rays but
still affords a clear view
for the rest of us. Here we
see the sheerest of solar
fashion. Above left, a
swimsuit-and-blouse com-
bo—inappropriate for
doing laps. Above right, а
minimalist yellow outfit
for modern submariners.
Opposite: A sun dress for
afternoons on the board-
walk when you don't
want to block any breeze.

112

114

Above, her suit is by Michael Haban for North Beach Leather; earrings, from Alexis Kirk; jeweled bracelet, fram Kenneth Lane; silver bracelet, from
Zoe Coste. The shades are fram Xavier Donaud. Opposite: Her suit is Yves St. Tropez; blause and jewelry, Yves Saint Laurent; glosses, from Optica.

ee-through fashion

has even entered the

nerve center of the

free world’s economy.
Above, we notice corpo-
rate interests fending off
a venture capitalist's
unfriendly take-over bid.
The woman in white in
the foreground is just
clipping her coupons and
watching her stock hold-
ings fluctuate. Opposite:
Women are not only
entering the board room,
they're taking it over.
This executive is making
а visual presentation.
She's trying to make a
couple of incontrovert-
ible points. The one thing
her attentive colleagues
are not trying to do is
dress her with their eyes.

—-——— — , —
a i 5 Vat Фә IA ROA iat
а DA A и

Opposite: His white-tie dancing tux is from After Six. Her diaphanous skirt is from Norma Kamali; the blouse, from Eleanor P. Brenner; shoes, by La
Marca. Above: Her sequined suit, which hardly needs а blouse, comes from Metamorphosis. Her demure earrings ore available from Alexis Kirk.

hat you wear is а
way of telegraphing
what you're up for.
Таке the couple at

left. We'll call him Guido;

well call her Babette.

When Guido showed up

at Babettes, he got an

urgent message: She was
primed for a painfully
expensive restaurant and
then some ballroom danc-
ing. We see them doing a
credible imitation of Fred
and Ginger. Above, an-
other couple (Gaston
and Heloise) are doing
rescarch into what's cook-
ing. While the chefs stew
in their juices, Gaston
nibbles on Heloise. The
heat of the kitchen doesn’t

seem to faze them.
17

118

Above: Her hat and coct, by Andre von Pier; purple dress, by Lynn Bowling; shoes by Charles Jourdan; necklace by Eric Beamon; earrings by Wendy Gell.
Luggage, by T. Anthony. Opposite: Her chiffon coat, from Топу Chase; hat, by Whittall & Shon; earrings, by Wendy Gell; shoes, by Andrea Corona.

on't believe it when

you hear that the ro-

mance of train travel

is dead. The lady
above has outfitted herself
with sensible on-board
attire. There’s nothing
worse than being either
too hot or too cold; hence,
the lighter-than-air dress
and the overcoat donated
by the animal kingdom.
At right, it’s the end of
the evening and the be-
ginning of another trans-
parent relationship. They
both need a lift. They're
off to her place, where
she can shed her second
skin and he can see what
he's gotten himself into.
The elevator operator
has seen it all before.

120

fiction
By LILLIAN ROSS

some men whine after a difficult divorce;

mac light has a better idea

worn DOWN by the months of arguments,
hysterics, threats, pressures, by the endless
meetings with lawyers and accountants, by
the “What about the house?” and the
“What about the car?,” by his fruitless
efforts to deal with the surrender program
of his lawyers and the droning sanctimo-
nies of his wife’s psychiatrist (who had also
been engaged by his wife to become the
kids’ psychiatrist) and the final cave-in
before the falsely sympathetic judge, who
praised him and told him he was a “total
good father” and a “total good citizen”
and, after all, “the house was for the chil-
dren” and “the car was for the children”
and “the money was for the children” —
when it was all over, Mac Light spent a
day getting drunk alone in his dismal, mal-
odorous three-room apartment in Chelsea.
So be it. He rested. He thought of nothing.
He cried a little. He roused himself briefly
and pictured the house he had designed
and practically built by himself—the large
windows, the wrap-around deck, the kids
trying out their first roller skates on the
deck, the fireplaces, the trees he had
refused to have cut down, the bird feeder

he had made, the chickadees and the red-
headed woodpecker that arrived every sin-
gle morning at eight for their gift of bread
crumbs before he took off for the business.
Also, briefly, he pictured a dinner-table
scene that was now his ex—family table:
trying to eat roast beef while listening to
his now-ex-wife’s whining sermon about
the crooked butcher who had tried to slip
inferior beef over on her. She was a great
cook. She knew food, what was supposed
to keep you alive, what was supposed to do
you in, etc. Eating with her was dutiful.
He had done it dutifully.

By late afternoon, he stood in the dusk,
swaying in front ofa window, staring at life
going on in the apartment house across the
street, A baby getting a bath in a basin on
the stand at the window, fat adult arms
grabbing him as the baby grabbed a rub-
ber animal, the fat arms shaking the water
drops off the baby, then encompassing the
baby in a towel. Fade out. Another apart-
ment, empty of furniture, newly renovated
with newly installed French windows,
with white-overalled painters working
late. White walls in every room. Good

ILLUSTRATION BY JOSE CRUZ

taste. Looking things over was a woman,
young and slender, wearing a gold-colored
warm-up suit. A single. Mac sat down
heavily on the floor, picked up his tele-
phone and dialed the number of his only
friend, Bertrand.

“What did you give her?” Bertrand
asked immediately, his tone peculiarly
accusatory, with double the intensity of
Мас? now-ex-in-laws.

“Everything,” Mac said. “The works.
Even the kids. Now the psychiatrist will be
free to do the complete brainwash of the
kids. Those poor kids.”

Did you give her the house, too? The
whole house?”

“The whole house. Poor kids. Eating
with her alone. All alone in there with
her.

“Did you give her the three thousand a
month?”

“Four.”

“I knew it,” Bertrand said, almost with
satisfaction. “I tried to tell you, you had to
be tough."

“I tried. But those lawyers. They took
both kids right (continued on page 260)

Pops E
4

~.
я
Leen P

PLAYBOY

126

BROOKE SHIELDS (continued from page 96)

“They showed a big close-up of your foot. There was
blood. They showed you bleeding.”

The youngest, a curly-headed, dimpled
girl, regarded Brooke with solemn eyes

“You have to smile if you're going to
have your picture taken,” Brooke told her.

The little girl’s eyes became darker. She
seemed ready to cry.

“Ohhh,” Brooke
sleepy?”

The little girl moved her head up and
down slowly.

“Me, too," Brooke said. “It's past my
bedtime. Let’s just smile big one time,
then go to sleep. Good idea?”

The little girl's face brightened sudden-
ly, like the passing ofa summer storm. She
broke into a big, wide grin, threw her arms
around Brooke and gave her a kiss. The
flash on her father's camera went off with a
tiny pop.

“This was so nice of you," the mother
said to Teri. “I can't thank you enough.”

“We run a magic shop on the Strip," the
father said, taking a business card from his.
shirt pocket. *I'd really like Brooke to
come in sometime. Pick anything she
wants. Does Brooke like magic?”

"She did a special with Doug Henning,"
Teri said. “As a matter of fact, she's going
to do a walk over a six-foot runway of bro-
ken glass tomorrow."

The mother cringed. “Real glass?” she
asked.

"Oh, yes," Teri said. "Real glass. Dr
Pepper bottles."

"That sounds so scary," the mother
said.

“They say it isn't," Teri said. “They say
if you put enough glass down, it's like а
level surface. Isn't that right, Brooke?”

Brooke looked at her mother sleepily.
Then she smiled a skeptical smile and
said, “That's what they say.”

•

said. “Are you

“Listen to this,” Teri said. '* ‘Who have
you been dating lately?"

“That's direct,” Brooke said. She was
seated at a make-up table, wearing white
jeans and a black T-shirt. Her hair was up
in white-plastic curlers.

Teri sat on the other side of the narrow,
sparsely furnished dressing room, reading
from some typewritten pages.

“This is The Tonight Show, Brooke,”
Teri said. “They want the nitty-gritty.”
She read on. “It says, ‘I understand
you've been seeing Alain Delon’s son.’ Did
you hear that, Brooke? That's terrible.’

Brooke leaned toward the mirror, ap-
plying eye shadow. “What's that?” she said.

“They refer to Anthony as Alain
Delon’s son. Isn’t that terrible? They don’t
even use his name."

“Oh,” Brooke said. “His feelings would
be really hurt.”

Teri took a pencil out of her shirt pocket
and made a note on the page. “I’m going
to have them change that. I don't like
that.”

“No, that’s awful. He’d feel very bad.
That would be embarrassing.”

There was a knock at the door and a
young man entered, wearing sharkskin
pants and а navy-blue tunic shirt

“I found the dress,” he announced.
“It's red. It's gorgeous.”

“Did you bring it?” Brooke asked.

“It's upstairs. You'll flip.”

“How much was it, Warner?” Teri
asked.

Warner made a motion of indifference

“Bob Hope has the money,” he said.
“Besides, I told them it was perfect, that
they’ll die when they see her in it, so what
do they want? How can you put a price on
glamor?”

“They can put a price on anything,”
‘Teri said.

Warner sat down on the couch and took
an orange from a basket of fruit.

“You look divine,” he said to Brooke.

She looked at herself in the mirror, at
her half-made-up face.

“Uh-huh,” she said.

Teri looked back at the script. “ ‘So,
Brooke, you're writing a book. What's that
all about?’ Brooke answers that it’s to help
make the transition from high school to
college, da, da, da. . ...”

She flipped the page.

“What's that?” Warner said, peeling the
orange.

“It's the script for Brooke's interview.”

“They write all the questions and
answers down? Ahead of time?"

“That just gives them an idea," Brooke
said, applying mascara to her eyelash. “It
makes them feel better."

“How bizarre,” Warner said.

“*How’s school?” Teri read. **Brookie,
how’s school?”

“Fine; I think I might flunk out, thank
you for asking.”

“Really, Teri,” Warner said, putting a
section of the orange into his mouth.
“Wait until you see this dress. She'll look
so fabulous, it'll make the whole show.”

“Oh, do you know what they did,
Warner? They called and told me they had
a wonderful surprise for Brooke. Listen to
this wonderful surprise. This was going to
be a big favor because they like Brooke
so much.”

“Sounds like trouble,” Wamer said.

“They wanted Brooke to call up

Michael and have him do a black-out with
her on the show.””

“No!” Warner said, looking incredu-
lous. “Seriously?”

“Can you believe the nerve? This is,
mind you, one day before the show tapes.
How it was going to be a surprise if she
had to arrange it, I don’t know."

“They must be hallucinating,” Warner
said.

"That's what I told them. This is also
the very same day that Michael, the big-
gest star in the world, is appearing before
50,000 people at Dodger Stadium. And
they want Brooke—because they like her
so much, because she is such a great kid—
to talk him into casually running out to
Burbank to do a black-out on the Bob
Hope Christmas show.”

“They're classy people,” Warner said.
“No doubt about it.”

“They said, ‘Well, we thought they were
friends.’ I said, “You obviously don’t know
anything about friendship. A friend does
not take advantage of a friend that way.’ 1
mean, really. This shows no respect for
Brooke, no respect for Michael. . . .” She
counted these offenses off on her fingers.

“Апа here's the part you'll love. After I
told them that I absolutely didn’t want to
discuss it, not to even mention it, they said,
‘Well, we could get Michael Jackson if we
wanted. That’s not the problem.’”

“Ha, ha, ha, ha,” Warner said.
“Right.”

“Yeah,” Teri said. “I told them, ‘Fine,
go ahead.”

She stood up and put her glasses on top
of her head. "I have to go talk to them
about this,” she said, holding up the
script.

“Please do," Brooke said. “Га hate to
hurt Anthony's feelings.”

“Did you speak to Joan Rivers?" Teri
asked.

“Just for а minute."

“Did you ask about her husband?”

Brooke nodded. "He's feeling better,”
she said.

“OK, you better hurry up. I'll see you
upstairs.”

“ saw you on Circus of the Stars,
Brooke,” Warner said, separating another
section of orange. “You were super.”

“І don't know," Brooke said. "I was
pretty tired that weekend."

“And that act; that was such a panic.
What happened to your foot?"

“Oh, it was just a little scratch. It
wasn't a big deal.”

“They showed a big close-up of your
foot. There was blood. They showed you
bleeding."

“Yeah . . .” Brooke said. “But it wasn't
a big deal. I did it twice, on two different
days. The second time, nothing happened
at all, but they used the first one. I guess
they wanted to make it more exciting.”
She yawned.

“Brooke Shields draws blood!” he
said, as if quoting a newspaper headline.
“I think they were gasping all across

"You've been bad and that's that —I'm not going to ‘cut double
or nothing for it!"

PLAYBOY

the country.”

She looked in the mirror, the white-
plastic curlers in her hair. “If they saw
this," she said, "they'd really gasp all
across the country.”

The door flew open and a man dressed
in brown corduroy came in.

“Brooke, Brooke, Brooke,” the man
said. He held a rolled-up sheet of paper in
his hand and tapped it against his leg.
“Everything OK? You got everything?”

“Fine,” Brooke said.

“You got the questions, the script? Go
over all that?”

“Yes,” Brooke said. “Well, as a matter
of fact: a

"Great," the man said. "Super." He
looked around the room as if he were
thinking of buying it.

“Just have fun, right? That's it, right?”

“Right.”

“OK, listen, one thing.” He brought the
paper forward like a shifty landlord. “We
want you to do this one bit, a promo for
Joan's special. Five seconds. We'll tape it
after the show.”

Brooke took the piece of paper and
looked at it. “I’m doing this now?”

“Right after the show. Five seconds.
We'll have cards.” The man looked
around the room one more time. “Great,”
he said. “Beautiful. You want this door
closed?”

“Please.” Brooke stared after the man
in mild wonder.

One second later, the door sprang open
again and the man stuck his head back
into the room. “Listen,” he said, “I saw
you cut your foot. Wow!”

б

“I've got rhythm,” the chubby young
man said. “Гуе got speed. That’s my
secret.”

The other photographers, six of them,
didn’t say anything. They stood around
restlessly in the narrow corridor, like
expectant fathers.

“Г be changing lenses in mid-shot. All
you'll see is a blur.”

A beak-faced man wearing a golf hat
with an МВС pass stuck into its brim said,
“How come they let you in, Norman?”

“How come they let you in, Hoos Foos?”
Norman said. He was bursting out of a
pale-gray lightweight suit, and he wore
dove-gray Capezio jazz shoes. He did a
couple of steps on the linoleum floor.

“You have to be smooth to get in here,”
he said. “You have to have moves.”

“Your hat's on fire," the beak-faced
man said, waving his hand at him.

The double studio doors opened sud-
denly. “Here she comes," Norman said.

The photographers came alive as
Brooke stepped into the hall, carrying a
bouquet of flowers. Warner walked along-
side her, holding aloft a long red evening
gown їп а plastic dry cleaner’s bag.

“Brooke! Brooke! Brooke!” They all
began to shout together. “Brooke, this

way! Brooke, over here!"

“There was a barrage of shutters and
power winders. The whirring motors
sounded like a swarm of android hornets.

As Brooke stepped forward, automatic
flashes exploded in her face like the finale
ofa laser light show. She came to a stand-
still as the photographers pressed in
around her from all sides.

“All right, gentlemen,” Teri said, strid-
ing into the scene. “Let's have a little room
to breathe. I’m not wrong in using the
word gentlemen, am 1?”

A nervous-looking young woman stood
at Teri’s side. “І guess this is a bad time to
talk to you.”

“No, this is a normal time,” Teri sai
She watched as the photographers contin-
ued their rapid-fire assault.

“My smile muscles are hurting,”
Brooke said to Warner out of the side of
her mouth.

“If we could just set this up for tomor-
row,” the nervous young woman said. “I
promise it won’t take any time at all. We
can do it anywhere you say.”

“Tomorrow ...” Тегі said, thinking
about it.

“Absolutely no time at all,” the young
woman said. Her eyes blinked rapidly.
Her hands made little motions in the air.

“Tomorrow we have to go to a hospital
in Downey,” Teri said. “Do you know
where Downey is?”

‘The young woman shook her head.

“We're going to visit a hospital there,”
Teri said. “Terminally ill patients, mostly
children. They’re having celebrities come
out for Christmas."

“Oh, my,” the young woman said, her
hand covering her mouth. "Oh, how
sad."

“Yes,” Teri said.

Brooke turned around and gave her
mother a look of open-eyed disbelief.
Apparently the photographers had an
endless supply of film.

“OK, here's what we can do," Teri said.
“We'll be going from the hospital to the
airport. We should get there about one-
thirty. The plane leaves at two. You can
meet us there.”

“Perfect,” the young woman said.

“It’s Regent Air; its not part of the
main airport. You'll have to find out where
it is.”

“No problem,” the young woman said.
“This is just so—1 can’t even tell you
how———" She took a deep breath,

“I understand,” Teri said.

“Just a few short questions about school
and boys, things like that. And how she
feels about being selected America's
Dream Date.”

“Mom,” Brooke said, looking over her
shoulder again.

“We have to go,” Teri said. “See you
tomorrow.”

She took Brooke by the arm and moved
her along the hallway. The photographers

backed up in front of them, still shooting.

“What was that?” Brooke asked

“You're America's Dream Date,” Teri
said.

They moved toward a spacious area
with vending machines and large open
doors leading to the parking lot.

“I have to get popcorn,” Brooke said,
pointing to one of the vending machines.
“Do you have change?”

Teri patted her pockets.

“Never mind. Here,” Brooke handed
the bouquet to Teri. She took a white-
leather bag off her shoulder, balanced it on
one knee and began looking through it.

Teri turned to the photographers and
said, “All right, that’s enough for tonight.
Thank you all, but enough is enough.”

The chubby young man in the gray suit
appeared next to her.

“Norman,” she said, looking at him
over her glasses, “the session is over.
Didn’t I say that?”

“I hear you,” Norman said. “Hey,
Brooke, great act on Circus!” he called to
her. He looked at Warner. “Nice dress.”

“So good night, Norman,” Teri said.

"Look, I’m leaving right now.” He
pointed to the doors. “My car’s out there,
through there somewhere.”

“That's the parking lot. That's where
our car is. That’s off limits to you.”

“And I respect that," Norman A
ring of perspiration appeared at his hair-
line and he took a handkerchief out of the
breast pocket of his jacket.

“Really?” Teri said. “Like the time you
respected the hotel garage?”

“What garage?” Norman said, mopping
his face. “Did you say a garage?”

“The one with the security gates. The
one you broke into.”

“That must have been the night of the
Golden Globes," Norman said, smiling
fondly. “OK, maybe I broke in—you said
broke in, I didn't—but, hey, I was polite,
wasn't I?"

“You ambushed us in an elevator.”

“I was never in the elevator,” Norman
said, holding the handkerchief up for em-
phasis. “At no time. I was maybe in the
elevator lobby, that's all.”

Teri sighed.

“They were great pictures, though,
weren't they?” Norman said. “Admit it.”

“They were OK,” Teri said, shrugging.
She watched Brooke, a few feet away, put
coins into the popcorn machine.

“OK? They were great! That killer Cos-
mo top she was wearing? ¡Ay chihuahua!"

Brooke pressed the buttons on the
machine and waited. Nothing happened.

“Kick it, is what I usually do,” Norman
said in a raised voice.

“Good night, Norman,” Teri said.

Norman walked over to the machine, his
canvas camera bags bouncing off his body.
He kicked the machine swiftly with the
side of his foot. A cardboard box came

(continued on page 234)

CHRISTMAS GIFT GUIDE

exceptional goodies that make giving and getting a yule delight

Stash your vintage vino in the glass, brass and mirror Courbu Pyramid wine rack, a reproduction of the Cheops Pyramid fitted with
а compass for perfect positioning, and-—according to the manufacturer—the wine will age at a much faster pace, by European
Design Products, $800. We've tried it with bottles of 1981 Chateau Lafite-Rothschild, from The Chicago Wine Company, Niles, Illinois,
$690 per case. The silver-plated caviar presentoir holds four tin sizes and features an isothermic system that replaces the usual
crushed ice; the presentoir, $860, a silver-plated caviar ladle, $120, and one kilogram of Beluga caviar, $900, all by Petrossian Paris.

PHOTOGRAPHY BY DON AZUMA

The Long-EZ radio-controlled model airplane just below, with а 6215" wing span, comes
in deluxe kit form and is powered by a .40-cubic-inch model engine that will allow you
to cruise your craft at speeds between 30 and 80 miles per hour, from St. Croix Models,
Park Falls, Wisconsin, $680. Bottom left: A rechargeable Seiko TFT porket color televi-
sion that's only about six inches high and even has on alarm clock, $349. Next to it:
Flexxx Phones that can olso be mounted on the wall have a hook switch inside the artic-
ulated mid-section (when you flex the body back, it shuts off the phone), by TeleQuest, $59.95.

PLAYBOY'S CHRISTMAS GIFT GUIDE

FO о un. wozo

Those rakish-locking Alpina M1 sunglasses in the center of the page have a lot more going
for them than first meets the eye— including 24 functional screws, 24-kt.-gold plating ond
lenses with 99 percent ultraviolet absorption, from Alpina Optics, Boca Raton, Florida,
$175. The French-made Cravate, а trompe l'oeil chest with а lacquered front that
swings open to reveal three glass shelves and on inner drawer (the unit
measures 49° high by 39: wide by 12'2 deep), from Interna Designs Ltd., Chicago,
53055. Next to it: A silver-plated cocktail shaker, from Barneys New York, 5350.

PLAYBOY'S CHRISTMAS GIFT GUIDE

Top left: A Baccarat Crown of Napoleon decanter handmade of heavy lead crystal and
inlaid with gold holds 750 milliliters of Sempe Imperial Reserve 30-year-old Armagnac,
from Regal Brands, $350. Behind it is a rare Tiffany quart-size antique sterling-silver-
and-crystal flask, from Barneys New York, $1100. And to hold your favorite liquor, а
cut-crystal Latimer brandy snifter, fram Cartier, Chicago, $160 for a set of four. Top
right: If money is no object when it comes to storing your cherished cheroots, we recom-
mend а sterling-silver cigar humidor that's lined in cedar, from Tiffany, New York, $12,500.

We've all seen Mémphis-look tobles and choirs, and now thot opproach te design
has been applied to home occessories in the form of o Memphosis ice bucket ond
glasses, designed by Georges Briard, that includes а four-quort lacquer-finished
Pyramid ice bucket, $55; ond о set of four Pyromid glosses, $17, both by Georges Briord,
Inc. Archigraphics Orbit Lamp, ovoiloble in о voriety of colors, is actuolly o light sculp-
ture that’s mode up of о metol globe with o durable pointed finish thot is intersected by
an illuminoted triangulor neon tube, from Zimmermon Studio. Los Angeles, $300

THE BIOLOGICAL NEED FOR

OYS NKGHIOUT

(even domesticated
beasts sometimes hear
the call of the wild)

humor Ву BRUCE JAY FRIEDMAN

BOYS’ NIGHT OUT—a refreshingly sinful activity. But is it for everyone? The timid soul
who buries his head in his hands and says, “Oh, my God, what am I doing to my
loved ones?” might just as well not leave the house. The same is true of the Lonely
Guy, who is out every night anyway and won’t even notice the difference.

Most men, on the other hand, crave relief from the comforts of domesticity. Denial
of this urge may be the single biggest contributor to American sulkiness and pouting.
A shrewd wife or ladylove may practice sexual damage control and send her fellow off
with an empty tank—all’s fair. But send him off she will.

Why would an otherwise contented male leave the comforts of hearth and home
and risk the perils of the night? Is it against a salesman’s basic nature to sit in a
lounger and watch Miami Vice? Do dentists secretly long to hunt in packs beneath a
full moon? No doubt, Federally funded studies (continued on page 264)

ILLUSTRATION BY JERRY MC DONALO.

our christmas

carol, like miss liberty
herself, is a gi

from france to america

FYOU'RE FRENCH, maybe you've seen this lady modeling lin-
gerie on tall Paris billboards. (Is Paris burning?) If
you're a moviegoer, maybe you caught her line to archi-
tect John Cassavetes in Tempest (“I loove arsh-tect!”). If
you're one of the little animals, maybe you've seen her at
the Chicago Anti-Cruelty Society, where she does volunteer

work. (She’s the stunning-looking
human with the lullaby voice.) And if
you’re none of the above, you're still
lucky. You get to meet her now.

Carol Ficatier (Fih-caht’-yay): A
product of France, pleasing to the
senses, mischievous, bright—descended
from noble blood, even. See also beauté,
émigrée, noblesse, enchanteresse.

She comes from Auxerre, 20 kilo-
meters from Chablis. It's pretty there
on the Yonne River—a 13th Century
cathedral, vineyards—but it's not
bright lights, big city, and young
Carol was trés motivée.

“I was trouble in school," she says,
“the clown of the class, always.” Her
accent is almost gone now—she’s
been working hard on it—but the
English word animals, for instance,
still comes out shaded by animaux.
“And I did not work very hard. I
modeled a little bit when I was
younger—little magazines. Then,
starting on my 18th birthday, I
became a full-time model.”

Аз she looked up just a year later at
those fondly remembered (in Paris,
anyway) lingerie billboards, Carol’s
attitude was “It is me, but it’s not. 1
can be very objective. 1 am not looking
at myselfand saying, ‘Boy, am I nice!”
It’s someone else, almost, someone

Between stopping by her agency for
a modeling job (top left) and taking
orphaned pups to the park (bottom
left), Carol finds time to pucker
those lustrous lips. And there is lus-
ter in more than her lips (right).

“In France, sex is more healthy, I think. Here, you really
are puritans. There is ugly pornography and then, for
some, sex is like ‘Don’t come near me!’ But when yo:
repress in one way, something bad comes out in another way

else I know so well that I know all the flav

There were not enough flaws to keep her from moving on to
high-profile assignments in Zurich, Hamburg, Milan, Tokyo
and, after a few nights of nail biting, in the vigilante capital of
the world. “New York, for French people—for a lot of
people—it’s a scary place," she says, covering her eyes.

“When I first came here, every time I opened ту mouth,
someone said, ‘Oh! Are you from Fraaance? Which country
do you prefer?’ I don’t prefer. They're different. Now I can
say a sentence without causing a commotion. That's nicer.”

“A few days before I left Paris, there was a movie on French
TV, Death Wish—Charles Bronson shooting everyone. I was
thinking, My God, I'm so scared! But I loved New York at
first sight.”
New York reciprocated, and now, five years later. Carol is
a trés successful model, occasional actress and defender of п

144

PHOTOGRAPHY BY RICHARD FEGLEY AND STEPHEN WAYDA

“Looks don’t matter in a man. Well, I can't say that. A man
for me? Not necessarily superbright. I don’t need dumb,
obviously. Tender, kind. [want to be his companion, his lover,
everything—but not dominated. I have my own identity.”

animal rights in her new home town, Chicago.

“I belong to The Humane Society of the United States and
another group called Mobilization for Animals, which fight
the abuse of animals in laboratories,” says our Miss Decem-
ber, whose vegetarianism arises from a revulsion for any kind
of killing. “What goes on in the (concluded on page 210)

MISS DECEMBER nan

PLAYMATE DATA SHEET

каме: CAROL fFicATIER
Bust: > 5 mist: 23 Vz HIPS: 55°

sr; __5' 7 WEIGHT: 113

BIRTH DATE :02 [2 of SB ыктннасв: пета = ru

AMBITIONS: LE» mol ме А

TZ ламе ax

FAVORITE MOVIES:
00,

LACH

4
FAVORITE FOODS:

IDEAL EVENING: {A

PLAYBOY’S PARTY JOKES

After downing a dozen whiskeys and beer chas-
ers, the wobbling patron called the bartender
over for another round. “Sorry, buddy,” said the
barkeep. “You've had enough already.”

“Oh, yeah? Then how come I can sec that one-
eyed cat coming in the door?”

“For your information, pal,” the bartender
corrected, “that cat is going ош! the door.”

What do you mean. you were kicked out of
Disney World for talking to Pinocchio?”

“Well, actually, they kicked me out for sitting
on his face,” the secretary admitted to her co-
workers, “and asking him to tell а lie.”

The wealthy commodities broker could not
believe his luck—the beautiful woman he had
picked up in a bar turned out to be bright and
sophisticated. Hoping to impress her, he took
her back to his apartment to show off his art
collection.

While she stood admiring one of his new
acquisitions, the enthralled broker asked if she
would care for some port or sherry.

“Sherry, by all means,” the smartly dressed
woman replied.

“You're not only smart, you're discriminating.”

“Certainly,” she said. “To me, sherry is the
nectar of the gods. Just watching sherry shimmer
in its decanter fills me with an otherworldly
glow. Its sweet bouquet lifts me on wings of
ecstasy. One sniff and a thousand violins throb in
my inner ear; one taste and a symphony of pleas-
ures explodes within me. Port, on the other hand,
makes me fart."

Admitting that he still moonlighted to help pay
his bills, the accountant explained that he had
once gone deeply into debt after getting a girl
nant.

“You had to pay her off,” his friend surmised.
“I see."

“No,” the accountant replied. “But it cost me
a fortune to keep that rabbıt on life support.”

А well-dressed man approached the drugstore
counter and asked for a deodorant.

“Ball type?” the clerk asked.

“No. Actually, it’s for under my arms.”

The annual Big Animals vs. Small Animals foot-
ball game had turned into a rout. Just before half
time, the score was Big Animals 105, Small Ani-
mals 0.

The gorilla took a pass on his own 12-yard
line. He was tackled immediately and thrown all
the way back to the two.

“Wow!” yelled the mouse. “Who did that?”

“I did,” replied the centipede.

‘Where were you the whole first half?”
“Tying my shoes.”

After half time, the second-half kickoff sailed
to the rhino. He ran to the left, reversed, ran to
the right and was smothered in his tracks.

“Who did that?” asked the excited hamster.

“1 did,” replied the centipede. But then he dis-
appeared into a crowd on the side lines.

п the last play of the game, with the score
227-0, the giraffe took the snap from center,
faded back and was sacked for a safety.

“Who did that?" asked the prairie dog.

“I did,” said the centipede.

“What the hell were you doing since the
second-half kickoff?”

“High fives.”

| felt sorry for myself because I had no women,”
the lonesome philosopher declared, “until I met
a man who had no hands.”

D-d-doc,” the patient stammered, “you've g-got
to help m-m-m-me. My st-stutter is ruining my
c-c-c-confidence.”

Ап examination revealed the man’s penis to be
so large that its weight was straining his spine,
which in turn strained his neck and vocal cords.
The doctor recommended surgery to remove
eight inches of the penis.

Although the operation was successful, the
patient returned a few weeks later, again in a
state of despair.

“At first it was great, doc," he said. "I had
much more self-confidence. But pretty soon my
wife began to lose interest, and now she wants to
leave me. Please, doc, you've got to give me back
the rest of my penis.”

“S-s-sorry, T-too | аге"

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

"Oh, here's the mix-up—Miss Fowler, you're seated opposite Mr. Wilkinson!”

152

HRISTMAS | FANTASY

лат By PAUL THEROUX

i wanted to spend the longest night
of the year with this beautiful
woman. but what did she want?

1 THOUGHT I had set off in good time, but this was
the shortest day of the year—four days before
Christmas. I was in ancient Yorkshire, walking the
coast north of Whitby. It was twilight before I had
gone ten miles, and at Runswick Bay and Кеше-
ness, I found it hard to see my feet. It was that
uncertain time of day, just after a winter sunset,
when the way is made visible by the pale sky show-
ing in puddles on the muddy path.

And then everything was black. I stumbled on
through the wykes and dumps until Ї saw a waver-
ing light. This is how I came to Blackby Hole.

The village was not yet visible. But I knew there
were cottages hidden in the nearby darkness,
because there was in the air the burnt-toast smell
of smoke from coal fires, the sharpest odor on
frosty nights in English villages. There was only
darkness and this coal smoke for a few hundred
yards, and then clammy air rolled over me; and
the next time I saw the light, it was smudged and
refracted by the drifting fog

This was the north—I had expected Christmas
snow, but the sea fog was stranger and just as cold
and penetrating. It was as if I lay with my face
against a slab, and the ghostly progress of sloshing
surf on the foreshore under the cliffs suggested
terrible things. I imagined stepping off one of those
clifis or the edge breaking under me and the loose
chunks of headland bearing me down and flinging
me into the black water. The sea fog had settled
and thickened, muffling sound and shrouding the
coast.

1 regretted this trip already. England is one of
those safe, civilized countries where a traveler has
to go to а great deal of trouble to place himself in
danger. After days of struggling against the tame-
ness and safety of the Cleveland Way, I had now
succeeded in placing myself at risk

The swimming light showed me a stile. I
plunged over it and into a narrow lane. I heard the
creak of a sign before I saw the pub itself—the
Crossed Keys. And cottages appeared suddenly as
dripping walls and shuttered windows. I was
muddy and cold, so I decided to warm myself by
the open fire at the Crossed Keys. There was a
sign saying VACANCIES in the window, but I procras-

tinated. If I could find (continued on page 226)

ILLUSTRATION BY CHRIS VAN ALLSBURG

still more timeless wonders from our favorite

collection of erotic art

PROVOCATIVE PERIOD PIECES

ї YOU'RE a regular млувоу read-
er, you're familiar with Boston
art dealer Charles Martignette's
collection of antique erotica.
We've featured pieces from his
collection—probably the largest
in the world—in our October
1980, January 1983 and January
1984 issues. Still, we've but
scratched the surface of
Martignette’s risque treasures.
He adds new items eath year,
some of the most recent com-
ing from the now-defunct
International Museum of Erotic
Art in San Francisco. Our selec-
tions this month— from a snuff-
box to an ornate art nouveau
bronze vase—prove, once
again, that there is no common
object upon which man cannot
project his erotic imagination.

In 1775, while we were up to our
noses in revolution, the French
were putting their snuff into
hand-painted boxes like the ivory

‘In case you can't make
дымен

ictorian bronze at left is by
Parisian seulptor J. 1. Gerome. At
its base, three men's open mouths.
await the dropping of gold balls
that the woman holds in her
hands. The serpentine arrange-
ment of women in green crystal,
above, is a jewelry case designed
in Paris by René Lalique in 1900.

The First Century bronze wall plaque
above shows the best of ancient Roman
pleasures, while the petticoat of the
English porcelain doll, actually an ashtray
(below), is inscribed wheres THE mouse”, а
question easily answered by turning the
doll over. The German bronze vase (bot-
tom), circa 1890, could only make what-
ever you poured from it taste better.

The essence of sexual inscrutability, the
1890 Japanese bisque wall plaque above
seems innocent, but turn it over (see inset
at left) and you see what can happen toa
young lady after too much sake. The 1910
Japanese Hakata doll (below left) has a
surprise on the underside. When you pick
up the doll (see inset), you discover what
she's hiding beneath those robes.

156

HRISTMAS IN THE AIR

food and drink By EMANUEL GREENBERG

cn ee We
eds es Fe
TE а a ER

a holiday shopping list of
gourmet goodies available
posthaste by post

WHEREVER SHE МАУ ВЕ, at home or on the
road, actress Carol Channing knows
where to get fresh seafood—in a hurry.
She phones Legal Sea Foods, Boston,
Massachusetts, on an 800 number and
places her standard order—swordfish or
gray sole. The fish is shipped via air
express and arrives promptly, in pristine
condition, frigid but not frozen. Expatriate
New Yorker Max Lent, now living in
Marina del Rey, California, assuages the
pangs of nostalgia with a periodic fix
from Zabar’s, home of New York’s best
native New York fare. The perishable
merchandise—smoked whitefish or carp,
kippered salmon, pickled lox, pickled beef
tongue—is at his doorstep within 24 hours
of being shipped

"Those two instances are definitely not
isolated happenings. They are prime
examples of the passion for mail-order

shopping now sweeping the country. In
effect, it’s the open-sesame to an abun-
dance of foodstuffs, unique, hard-to-find
items gathered from every part of the
globe: buffalo steaks from Wyoming; a
complete New England shore dinner;
champagne-laced chocolate truffles from
Switzerland—and thousands more. Many
of the offerings are regional classics, avail-
able only from small family enterprises
that follow heirloom recipes. You can get
them at the farmhouse door, in a few
hometown shops or via mail order—that's
all.

‘The boom in mail-order food shopping
and the consequent proliferation of food
catalogs were triggered by technological
advances in packing and shipping that
made it feasible to send the most delicate
and perishable goodies almost anywhere.
Mary Jane Anderson, publisher of the
industry newsletter “Foods by Mail,” says
that mail-order food is becoming a billion-
dollar business—which suggests that cata-
log browsing may be our second favorite
indoor sport. The following is a listing of

ILLUSTRATION BY BILL RIESER

distinctive and uncommon mail-order
foods certain to delight you, with explicit
instructions on how to order them. You
won't find the usual fruitcakes, plum pud-
dings, fillet steaks, Smithfield hams, fruit
clubs and banal gift baskets that pop up
annually. Not a cliché in the bunch. We've
also noted whether the company accepts
checks (CK), money orders (M.O.), Visa
(V), American Express (A.E), Master-
Card (M.C.), Carte Blanche (C.B.) or
Diners’ Club (D.C.). For tips on Mail-
Order Smarts, please refer to the sidebar on
page 253. Finally, you should know that
prices are subject to change; confirm them
when placing your order. Happy hunting!

SAY CHEESE

If cheese is “milk’s leap toward immor-
tality,” then the future of Maytag blue
cheese is assured. An aromatic, creamy
cheese made from rich whole milk and
slowly cave-aged, Maytag is not merely
the best American blue but a world-class
cheese. A 4-Ib. wheel is $25, a 2-pounder,
$13.75. Maytag (continued on page 250)

158

country girl barbi benton
bares a few
gifts for the greeks

BA

PHOTOGRAPHY BY RICHARD FEGLEY

тамо on a grand scale demands as much panache as it does cash.
Without a sense of personal style, cruising the Aegean in a 50-meter
yacht is just, well, showing off. As Beau Brummell once observed,
no one should ever notice how well you're dressed. No one would ever
accuse Barbi Benton of a lack of personal style. In fact, she’s one of those
people who can live well and make it scem almost folksy. Luxury, for
Barbi, is just another word for comfy.
Y'all remember Barbi. She was the sparkly, shapely ingénue with the

Ап exuberant Barbi Benton, above and right, is understandably excited about a
yacht cruise through the ancient Greek isles. At left, she is piped aboard by the
captain and crew of the gaod ship Christina Н, a charter from Маје! Yachts, Ltd.

irresistible smile who got her
showbiz start in 1968 on the set
of Playboy After Dark. There she
met Hugh M. Hefner, who was
So smitten that she became his
steady for some five years.
Almost as enthusiastic were fans
of Hee Haw, the country-music
show on which she became a reg-
ular; since then, she has turned
up with great frequency on such
series as Fantasy Island and The
Love Boat.

“Love Boat is my second name,
you know,” laughs Barbi. “I’ve
done so many of those shows
over the years that Гуе become
identified with them. For me, it
was the Love Boat School of Act-
ing. But it was great. Aaron
Spelling, more than any other
producer, believed in me and
gave me a lot of chances—before

At right, the whitewashed sparkle af
an island village street complements
the sensuaus form of our American
beauty. When the shadows grow
long, the men af the village (abave)
gather at ane of the local coffee-
houses to swap ald fishing staries
and lift a glass or two. No women,
just men. Barbi puts a definitive and
welcome end to that old tradition.

162

I was ready. Because of that, it’s been difficult for
me to break into more serious parts. But Гуе
done a few now, and I'm starting to get some rec-
ognition as an actress rather than simply a celeb-
rity who does some television." Of course, Barbi

The two women in the picture at the top are dressed
distinctively—Borbi in o little something she
took along for the cruise, the older woman in
traditionol Grecian dress. Borbi’s outfit above
is Greek, too. But from onother era, the golden age.

didn’t depend entirely on the Love Boat School of
Acting. She immersed herself in the study of the
craft for six years, with classes twice a week,
seven hours at a time.

“My acting coach, Milton Casalas, has a strict

If you toke your own toothbrush, а yacht can be just
like home. Berbi gets into the rhythm of the waves
(opposite) on the ofterdeck of the Christino 1l. Ob-
viously enjoying herself (above), she cancels the pa-
pers back home and calls all able hands on deck.

165

policy: You sign up for Milton’s class and you go
to class twice a week unless you die.”

Acting classes involve, among other things, rig-
orous self-examination, emotional control and sen-
sory development. (text concluded on page 210)

At nightfall, even the most enthusiastic sail-
ors wind dawn. Dropping anchar, Borbi retires to
the master cabin, where soft bouzauki music
watts in over the sea fram the islands. Somewhere
there is strife. But there’s nane here. Not tonight.

SEXUAL
PASSAGES

why women in love

give great head,
and other short-lived
phenomena

AH, HOW I LOVED HER. It was an amour fou. Zoom in on
Letitia for one moment. Tall, with straight ginger-ale-
blonde hair, graceful as an astral projection. Eyes
that were, well, Tiffany box blue. In a face so vivid
and sensual the glass over her photograph used to
sweat. And she was intellectual, witty, eccentric. I
first met Letitia at a noncostume party: she wore this
big water-heater coil and several brass gaskets on her
head. Letitia spoke about Truman Capote. Later she
sketched a complex protein molecule across my cock-
tail napkin. Later yet, Letitia threw both shoes off,
got up on the local Steinway and played Stardust with
her feet. Letitia came from Sutton Place and was writ-
ing а play that required dice to perform. (For every
line of dialog there were six possible responses. Each
actor, she told me, would roll and then speak. It made
Tonesco seem a social realist.) I was short and inse-
cure: at the age of 19 I thought I needed an intellec-
tual, eccentric woman who would understand (or
locate) my finer qualities. I fell hard. But Letitia
was steadily dating Rafacl, a Hispanic Yale sopho-
more who looked like Fernando Lamas and did his
hair, 1 think, with Grecian Formula gray to appear
more mature. I can be (continued on page 193)

essay By D. KEITH MANO

ILLUSTRATION BY LYNDA BARRY

171

20 QUESTIONS: HUEY LEWIS

attention, “sports” fans—the bay area's best rock-’n’-roller

goes a cappella

ormer yogurt salesman Huey Lewis and

the band he fronts, the News, are doing
their best to make sure that the heart of rock
'п' roll is still beating. “Sports,” the News’
third album, sold 6,000,000 copies, and
“The Power of Love,” their song from the
Steven Spielberg presentation “Back to the
Future,” hit number one soon after it was
released. David and Victoria Sheff met with
Lewis in his smallish London hotel room.
They told us, "He's the only rock star who
plays golf and occasionally punctuates a sen-
tence with ‘For fuck's sake.”

E

PLAYBOY: Since Sports was released two and
a half years ago, it’s been on the charts for
well over 100 weeks. We keep hearing from
people in the record business that it
couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy.
Lewis: That really is the secret. It had
nothing to do with the record or the fact
that мете a good band or the videos. It’s
just that I’m a nice guy.

2.
PLAYBOY: Don't nice guys finish last?
Lewis: I’m not that nice a guy. It really has
been amazing. Heart and Soul, The Heart
of Rock and Roll, I Want а New Drug and If
This Is It all went to number six and
stopped. Six happens to be my lucky num-
ber. The album was number one for six,
seven days, until Bruce [Springsteen]
knocked us off, and, boy, were we glad
when he did—all that pressure. Much
rather be number two or three, back where
we belong. The record has refused to die,
which is fine, though it’s made it hard to
make another record. Most groups put out
а record a year. It’s been three and a half
years since we made Sports. It’s a bit
frustrating, but that’s not the kind of thing
you bitch about.

3.

PLAYBOY: Sports is a good album, but more
than 100 weeks on the charts? To what do
you attribute its massive success?
Lewis: I think it’s my golden voice. And the
fact that I’m a nice guy. Next question?
Seriously, we are very fortunate, OK?
"There's a certain belief that if you are a
serious musician, you have a chip on your
shoulder. You don’t have to. We don’t take
ourselves very seriously, but we do take the
music seriously, and the two things are not
mutually exclusive. And we also hit a
nerve somehow. It wasn’t a calculated
thing, but because we were a real band
from a real neighborhood—no gimmicks,

PHOTOGRAPHY BY AARON RAPOPORT

just us—people could relate to us. We
insisted on producing the records our-
selves and having control: We conceived
the videos ourselves, for the most part; we
did the album cover ourselves, because we
wanted literally as well as figuratively to
stay out of Hollywood. I'm generalizing
now—rather largely, but what the hell?
Hollywood is out of touch with Cleveland,
Tulsa, Memphis and everywhere else but
Hollywood. People there don’t havea clue.
If somebody had told them, “We've got
this little black man with his hair in a
pompadour; he’s going to wear purple lin-
gerie and he’s going to be huge,” they
would have said, “What, are you crazy?”
If they'd said, “We've got these six guys,
see; they really don’t look like much—just
boy-next-door types—and they аге going
to be the next big thing,” nobody would
have bought that, either. We look like the
boys next door. I'm talking about
imagewise. We're not.

4.

PLAYBOY: Want to tell us about / Want а
New Drug?

tewts: A lot of people could relate to that
song—for some strange reason. [Laughs]
There is a tradition of songs with similar
themes— Youre Getting to Be a Habit with
Ме ог Гое Got You Under My Skin or “I get
no kick from cocaine . . . I get a kick out
of you.” But it was new to this audience. 7
Wanta New Drug is not about drugs. It’s a
Sixties song. And that’s what we’re proud-
est of, being children of the Sixties. It was
a lot of fun to write. You could write a hun-
dred million verses for it, but three is all
that the law would allow.

5.

PLAYBOY: What was your reaction the first
time you heard Ray Parker, Jr’s, re-
markably similar song from Ghost
busters?

Lewis: I was fairly well shocked. The suit is
over, thankfully, and one of the conditions
of the settlement is that I can’t talk about
it. And, no, I didn’t see the movie. I had to
boycott it on principle. I understand it was
great, though.

6.

PLAYBOY: You're an A-level star now. What
have been the pluses of this success?

Lewis: It certainly has improved the hotel
rooms. [Laughs, looking around his messy,
standard single room| The best part is that
Гуе gotten to meet Ray Charles and Bob
Dylan, Bruce Springsteen and Tina

Turner and that sort of stuff. To have
Quincy Jones say “I love your stuff” is too
much. Meeting sports stars, too, which is
really something for me. Dwight Clark
and I have played golf twice. It’s like a
mutual-admiration society. We spend time
gushing over each other. He wants to talk
about the videos, and I want to talk about
the Super Bowl. Also, Dylan sent me a
tune. You know what I’m saying? "Here's
a song I thought you might like. Take care.
Good luck. Bob.” I’m speechless. And it's
a good song.

fh

PLAYBOY: Who is the coolest person you
have ever met—someone who had you
shaking in your boots before meeting?

LEWIS: I met a lot of them at the We Are the
World session. Dylan is really cool, and
Lionel Richie was fantastic at the USA for
Africa session. Quincy Jones above all.
And Ray Charles, whom I never actually
met. I mean, there he was, but I was so
embarrassed, so in awe of him that I
couldn’t go up and say, “Hi, Ray. Nice to
meet you." I just couldn't bring myself to
do it. The best thing about it was that
nobody was allowed in the room except
the artists themselves. So we had breaks
every two hours or so, and there I was
talking to Dylan and Willie Nelson, both
of whom I've idolized for years. We had
that Sixties feel. There was Waylon Jen-
nings talking to Smokey Robinson. There
were Kenny Rogers and me and James
Ingram having a rap. The best line came
from a pop star who shall remain name-
less: “If they dropped a bomb on this ses-
sion, John Denver would be back on top.”

8.

PLAYBOY: Has success changed what you
have in your pockets? Come clean.

Lewis: What? I mean, Гуе been asked
some weird things. [Reaching into his pock-
ets] Oh, yes. [Removing his wallet, opening
it, grabbing some snapshots, handing them to
us] Want to see my daughter? She’s almost
three. Here she is with her old man. The
worst part of being on the road now is the
family. I really miss my daughter. I can
talk to my wife on the phone, but my
daughter doesn’t do that yet. It certainly
has increased the telephone bill. It’s
rough. Here are some more pictures. Her
birthday is March ninth. Cracks me
up, I really miss her, and the pictures
make it worse. You pick up the pic-
tures and you linger. I do this nightly. [His
mind wanders.) (continued on page 272)

HITCH YOUR SPACESHIP TO A STAR

the astrologers of figulus knew the future, but
they had yet to learn about naked truth

fiction BY DONALD E. WESTLAKE From the
beginning of Time, Man has been on the move, ever outward.
First he spread over his own planet, then across the Solar Sys-
tem, then outward to the Galaxies, all of them dotted, speck-
led, measled with the colonies of Man.

Then, one day in the year eleven thousand four hundred
and six (11,406), an incredible discovery was made in the
Master Imperial Computer back on Earth. Nearly 500 years
before, a clerical error had erased from the computer's
memory more than 1000 colonies, all in Sector F.U.B.A.R.3.
For half a millennium, those colonies, young and struggling

when last heard from, had had no contact with the rest of
Humanity.

The Galactic Patrol Interstellar Ship Hopeful, Captain
Gregory Standforth commanding, was at once dispatched to
re-establish contact with the Thousand Lost Colonies and re-
turn them to the bosom of Mankind.

Breakfast on the Hopeful consisted of ocher juice, parabacon,
toastettes, mock omelet, papjacks, sausage (don't ask) and
Hester's coffee. It was called Hester's coffee be-
cause Hester made it and Hester (continued on page 216)

` good grief! is hollywood becoming

- _ just another marriage mill?

Terror Vision, and a comedy, Hamburger—The
Motion Picture. Supermodel Christie Brinkley
(right) married singer Billy Joel and expects his
child in January; father of a three-year-old with
his lady, actress Patti D'Arbanville, is Miami
Vice's Don Johnson (below right), one of the hot-
test performers in television. Theresa Russell
does a Marilyn Monroe turn in Insignificance (be-
low center), while Sting (below left) became al
most simultaneously the latest incarnation of
Baron Frankenstein in The Bride and Meryl
Streep’s luckless working-class stud in Plenty.

experts for the hottest singles
action across the land

compiled by
BRUCE KLUGER

In јелу 19%, when Praveoy conducted its first
nationwide singles-bar survey, ап unattached
Georgia woman responded with considerable
reserve to one of our Atlanta choices. “I can’t
believe you guys picked that place,” she said.
“That's not a singles bar. And I should know. My
girlfriends and I go there every weekend.”
Hmmm. That’s when we patted ourselves on
the back and decided to go for another round. We
again polled those with their ear closest to the
singles’ stomping ground: more than 100 news-
paper columnists, city-magazine editors, radio
and TV journalists and others in 17 cities who
cover the local scenes. Our thanks to them all.
So here they are: the best dating bars, town by
town. This year's pickup-line blue-ribbon winner
is a guy in Miami who approaches the brass rail
every Friday night, wearing a girl-scout pin and
carrying a copy of Modern Bride. He's such a
curiosity that the women approach him. Cheers!

ILLUSTRATIONS BY DAVE CALVER,

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SEXUAL PASSAGES

(continued from page 171)

“Her body was, man, weird. Henry Moore didn’t do
abstract sculpture: no, he copied Letitia from life.”

tenacious as Simon Wiesenthal, however.
For Letitia 1 became the acrobat of
romance. 1 was an entire ways-and-means
committee when it came to love. 1 wooed
her for more than one full year—mostly at
a distance, (Even when together, we were
at a distance: Letitia was 5'10". I saw
much beautiful underchin.) In return,
she'd call to chat with me about Kerouac
and Webern and DNA. Or drop a pleasant
card from Paris. I was rabid with passion
by then: I needed а new microchip for my
brain, I did so adore her. People would
say, “Him—oh, his name is Keith-who-
loves-Letitia.” And, finally, I stuffed her
ballot box, I ran Letitia down. Tribute to
my wit and determination and gallant
courtship. It also didn't hurt that Rafael
had left her for a Brazilian dog handler. A
male Brazilian dog handler.

So, all at once, Letitia loved me. So, too,
all at once I was ready for The Laughing
Place. These things, you see, I soon found
out aboutmy Beloved: (1) She could play
piano only with her feet. Only Stardust.
And whenever, wherever a piano appeared,
(2) Her wit was wholly on loan from
Esquire and Scientific American, each of
which she would more or less memorize.
Beyond that twice-per-month | exercise
Letitia wes illiterate as а rock cornish
game frog. I'd've been better off just sub-
scribing. (3) Her uncle—who lived in this
expensive halfway house (halfway be-
tween sanity and being a human bafle
plate)—had written the notorious dice
play. (4) Her body was, man, шета, Henry
Moore didn’t do abstract sculpture: no, he
copied Letitia from life. (5) She wouldn't
wash that body, nor harvest her armpit
hair. You know the cliché “Ву the skin of
my teeth"? Leti Бран skins
on... hers. When lying next to Letitia I
could hear her postnasal drip. (6) And
worst. She wouldn't use contraception.
Instead she chanted, *We won't get
nant, we won't get pregnant" in anu
down lotus position before and after. I was
full of dread. The pronoun we scemed
particularly dreadful.

Collapsela. _ Bleaksville. Copious
despair. A malc Brazilian dog handler
would've looked good to me by then. The
climax came (or didn't) that December in
my parents’ summer cabin. I refused to
make love by her chanted rhythm method.
Letitia went sullen. In reprisal she got
squiffed cold on a quart of Canadian Club.
No life signs. Consciousness a closed shop.
To get her backfield in motion, I went with
my famous fireman's carry. АП of a quick-
ness, as we passed through the living

room, Letitia put on even more weight.
What was it? What it was, was, was...
God, from my shoulder height she had
grabbed a wrought-iron chandelier. Off
balance, I fell hard. With her. Her with
the chandelier. The chandelier with a
weak roof beam and about 16 pounds of
plaster. Enough: I was through romancing
that stone. Or almost enough. Letitia had
used my toilet and, of course (with all that
armpit hair, what else?), had forgotten she
should flush. Next April, when I went up
to open our cabin, the commode was over-
grown with morbid yellow-white fungus
It hung down like Spanish moss. No, like
Puerto Rican moss. Some metaphor for
lost love, that, lemme tell you.

Good night, sweet princess, and flights
of B-52s send thee to thy rest. Well, so, I
probably disappointed her just as much.

.

This is, to be sure, a rather catastrophic
example of Where Love Has Gone.
Nonetheless, romantic passion, I suspect,
imitates human biological life exactly—it
will begin the inevitable death process
about one half second after birth. I don’t
mean to sound pessimistic and bring on a
cluster headache when next you tongue
that special woman. Natch, there are love
relationships that age, so to speak, like
Marlene Dietrich or Sophia Loren—and I
am a very happily marned man (italics
mine)—they can be mature, wise, patient,
sweeter than old briar-bowl caking. But,
for those exquisite transports that make us
fire out as some blood-doped sprinter
would, they have a certain predictable oxi-
dation rate. In fact, cheap gutter pipe has
about the same rust factor. Moreover,
there is a distinct pattern. I call it The
Five Ages of Love.

1. Infanthood. (Astonishment, discov-
ery, an emotional water-main break.) You
call her Sam instead of Samantha. She
calls you Ter instead of Terry.

2. Adolescence. (Fervor, complete
mutual absorption, all feelings have a high
blood-alcohol content) Move on to
“Sweetheart, Honey, Darling.”

3. Adulthood. (Settling in, comfort, you
actually look forward to her tuna sur-
prise.) The age of pet names. She is
Squeekum or your little Punchbowl. You
are Rumbledumbkin.

4. Middle Age. (Letdown, some seven-
month itch, less excitement than show bet-
ting at a tennis match.) Punchbowl has
become Punchy. Rumbledumbkin is just
plain Dumb.

5. Senility. (Collapse, bitterness, abso-
lute spiritual sock wilt.) Back to calling

each other Sweetheart, Darling. As in
“Darling, a 17-year locust comes quicker
than you do.” Or “If you'd just change
your rhythm once, maybe I wouldn't need
this factory-size vibrator, dear.”

The Five Age format can be applied to
all character traits. Take, for instance, her
clothing.

1, What surprising, imaginative outfits
she has. (Right now she could wear black
construction paper and still look good to
you.)

2. Clothing irrelevant. At this stage
уоште both mostly nude.

3. Wardrobe repetition. Dear little
Punchbowl, she has her good old high-top
basketball sneakers on again.

4. You start to buy things for Punchy.
New underwear, say, without a honey spot
in the crotch. Her image might reflect on
your taste. God, youd think she read
Women’s Wear Yearly

5. You begin throwing her stuff out on
the sly. She wears that razor-creased
A-line dress just to irk you. Dearest, did
your chemise include installation and rub-
ber padding?

Or apply the formula to his high-explo-
sive snore.

1. What scrumptious male sounds he
can make. Like а lion in the veld

2. She actually puts her ear to his mouth
at night. He is the Voice of America,
sleeping.

3. Well, I’m just glad to feel I have a
man in bed with me.

4. Hum, at least here are some signs of
human life as we know it. (Will put pillow
over her head.)

5. Doing it on purpose, he is. He'd
me to be so tired I flunk my ceramics mi
term. (Will put pillow over his head.)

In Age One he's Jacques Cousteau on
her unprobed coral reef. She might be
Magellan rounding his mysterious Horn.
This is the Age of Revelation. Listen, we
all have Life Stories, don’t we? Even those
of us who are boring as a shoe tree. I
mean, something must've happened to you
in those 20 or 30 years. Try to remember.
So his father claims to have discovered the
color beige in 1928 but didn’t patent it. So
her father was a major Nazi war criminal
who hung around playgrounds mostly
until his deportation back. In this stage we
are interesting by default. His first totaled
car, her first out-of-body experience, his
first appendix removal, her first dysmen-
orrhea. Some people can dine out for a
month on The Life Tale. Some lives are
exciting enough to be featured at Great
Adventure. Some wouldn’t fill the fare
drawer of a gypsy cab. But long or short,
dull or scintillating, they'll all seem new.

And by now everyone here should have
a decent game bag worth of effective one-
liners. Her sharp quotation from Nietz-
sche. His down-home phrase for sex that
grandpa used back in Nebraska. Me, at
42, 1 can talk for 11 days straight without

PLAYBOY

194

having to paste up any original thought
whatsoever. Intellectual Meadow in a Can
you could call it. Also, she makes one
dynamite recipe—Ragout of Controlled
Substances, say. He is welcome at one spe-
cial restaurant: the waiter there doesn’t
get instant glaucoma when he waves for
service. Gift giving, too. We all have at
least one can't-miss, unique present. (For
a while, I handed out Orgasmatrons—
had 76 of them in payola after my last sex-
aid article. Women got good vibes from
me.) And we all make love—if not well,
somewhat differently. She shaves her
pubic hair into a dollar sign. He can put
top spin on his downstroke. She has that
swell whimper of completion. His cuttle-
bone duck-hooks to the right. Given some
chemical attraction (and I assume that)
all this will seem as exotic as Buffy Sainte-
Marie and her Indian mouth horn.
Romance, however, eats up new material
faster than The Tonight Show. You can
write this axiom down: repetition is the
murderer of love.

But, for that time, you’ll hear with your
entire body, as a snake's flicking tongue
can hear. The ulcer is cured. Life becomes
a barrier-free environment. I once fell in
love so absolutely I thought throughout
that First Age the woman had platinum-
blonde hair. (Some clown must've put
petroleum jelly on my lens, I guess. She
was a dark brunette.) Once my wife had a
crush—at their first kiss she fainted, hit
pavement head on and spent that night in
the emergency room. (She didn’t even
stagger for me, but. ) Your world has
been reprinted in 30-point type. Air and
sky are on steroids. Arm over arm you
slide step into The Second Age.

.

This is the age of intimate and electric
surprise. Together you make sheet light-
ning in bed. She will give head with such
fierce, innocent zeal that your seven-inch
nondairy creamer ends up chapped. And
she can respond. If, as Dr. Ruth West-
heimer has said, “Un orgasm iss like a
schneeze,” your woman must have sexual
hay fever. Both bodies are miraculous: the
way her teeth overlap, that cute hair on his
ear rim. You exchange shy, secret knowl-
edge. Her menstrual cycle will go on his
desk calendar with A and B for alternate
ovaries. (A can cause violent breast bloat.
B tends to be latish.) She has bought an
inflatable sea-serpent ring for his cute,
plump hemorrhoid. Sex becomes the uni-
versal solvent in which every depressing
thing— grief, fear, disappointment, Mario
Cuomo—will vanish. You possess her: you
say These-tits-are-mine (and maybe there
is some narci: ic inversion in that
thought). Both are daily astonished. This
spectacular woman, whose Gestapo father
spent his American exile under a kiddie
swing, has been given to you.

The Second Age, furthermore, is one of
glamorous self-reflection. You are seen, аз

it were, in a rose-colored mirror. She has
become _ this-otherness-that-is-also-you.
(And may even care for you more than you
care for you.) A woman whom 1 loved
would cry when she saw me. Why?
Because I was so beautiful. (No, Eraser-
head, she didn’t take lithium.) Each rock
tune from that period is laminated as if it
were a little Blue Cross card. And, more
important, you both declare intellectual
détente. He may be the worst sort of born-
again atheist, while she has to cross herself
after belching. She may be an eagle freak,
though he thinks nuclear waste should be
dumped in Yellowstone. They don’t talk
about it. They don’t need to talk about
anything. They can spend the night, word-
less, grooming each other like gibbons in a
tree.

By nature Age Two, more torrid than an
Indian sweat lodge, doesn’t often last long.
In fact meltdown will begin soon on:
Age Two is ready for Graves Registration
the moment both he and she first say, “I
love you.” Language has delimited passion.
English is imperfect inasmuch as we
have no more superlative verb than that
old trull “love.” “Adore” cloys. “Wor-
ship” is theologically unsound. “Cherish”
belongs on a Mass card. Say “love” and
you’ve gone all the way linguistically—
repetition and lame-duck status follow.
All we have left is heavy breath and some-
thing that may resemble the dance lan-
guage of honeybees. Deflation. Strai
Letdown. Sure, it might last a month—
more, maybe, if she is married and can get
out only when Mr. has gone to his fiber-
diet class. But lovers want more of each
other. They want to cavort for that gra-
cious, accommodating mirror again and
again. Before long your Life Story is all
used up, and you've begun on Ernest
Hemingway's.

•
The Third Age can still reach a flash
point or two. But by now both have begun
wearing psychological cool-down suits. He
and she see each other more often: maybe
they've moved in together. The World—
job, ex-wife, social obligation—will assert
itself again. They start killing two birds
with one stone, and the two birds are
them. He will drag her along when his car
has a mufflergram. She hopes he won't
mind playing hook-womb over the swivel
chair in her study carrel at Columbia.
Love is magnificent but time expensive.
And you won't get a Guggenheim for it.
Familiarity can breed some cheap
delight, though. (Just before it breeds a lot
of cheap contempt.) At least temporarily,
housework and personal hygiene may
become romantic as Mayerling. He will
learn how she, dear kiwi bird, inserts a
vaginal sponge into her warm lagoon. She
will kiss his Speed Stick—and rub it
behind one ear so she can remind herself of
him at the office. He will learn how to cook
tripe (though not why). She will actually

watch while he shaves and applaud when
the razor has slid safely over that hazard-
ous chin cleft. This may engross—for
some short time—but it’s like being back-
stage at an abortion clinic. The illusion
won't last. It might be poignant to know
that Rumbledumbkin has a hammertoe
(until now he wore one white sock even in
the shower). And, imagine, Punchbowl
keeps her 90-mile-per-hour hairdo in place
with a pound of Scotch tape before bed.
Imagine, imagine. Yet he is no longer
loved by that sensuous fashion model—
what was her name?—but by someone
with irritable-bowel syndrome and flashes
of dullness. She is no longer loved by that
suave, $200,000-per-year ad exec—but by
some corporate clip-bender to whom his
boss said last Tuesday, “If you don’t stop
flat-dicking it, Tom, you'll end up with the
Railway Express account.” Right, uh-huh,
no doubt, sure, that mysterious Other can
still give back a validating, brilliant self-
reflection. Except now he or she isn't so
mysterious anymore—just another dumb
arch support like you. May as well love
yourself at that rate.

The heart is becoming a lousy hunter,
but poor Punchbowl and Rumbledumb-
kin, they’ve gone public and that may
redeem their self-prestige. Until next Fri-
day at least. The dimming mutual reflec-
tion can be cable-boosted by some small
external publicity. They are an item in
their old neighborhood. He won’t even
mind when someone says, “What can she
see in that decrepit tuft hunter? Must be
worse than getting laid by Mr. Bill.” Fam-
ily, friends are exchanged, and, first off,
this will intrigue both, like being given cit-
izenship in a little kingdom—His People,
Her People. Mistake. Unknown origin is
part of successful myth, and even Vishnu
would’ve given up godship if confronted
with his baby-picture album. Not to men-
tion other disconcerting events. Her father
may ask delicately whether he can, um,
handle an epileptic seizure. Then slip him
this old leather tongue depressor with big
toothmarks in it. Or he may come out of
the john, fly open. And Mother, as though
by long reflex, may zip it up. From inside.
Of course, a best friend will say, "You're
with her now? Does she still go, ‘Aaaah-
aaah-aaah,’ when you finger her little
whoopie wart?”

•
Vanishing prairie time. Time to get in
the old bunker. There's this bench war-
rant out for your happiness. You need a
salaried crisis theologian in the bedroom.
Affection and warm complacency (Age
Three) are turning to vulgar disillusion-
ment (Age Four). The passage may be
subtle, so here are unmistakable signs.

A. Creeping nostalgia. He and she begin
to revisit that favorite (Age Two) motel or
park or bistro for a quick blast from the
past. But memories have no value as

(continued on page 278)

uarterly
eports

a timely accounting of timeless principles of personal finance

article

By ANDREW TOBIAS

YOU REALLY SHOULD READ
THE PROSPECTUS—REALLY

there are many ways to lose money in a tax-shelter
deal—and one very good way not to

ACK FROST roasting on an open fire, chestnuts nip-
ping at your toes; although it’s been said many
times, many ways: It’s not enough to rely on the
soothing sales pitch of a grand old name in
finance—read the prospectus.

То which you reply, very reasonably, that it’s
not Jack Frost roasting on an open fire this time of year,
it’s Jack Frost nipping at your chestnuts—and there's по
way you have the time or expertise to read some enormous
long prospectus. Or even some enormous short one.

ГИ start with the short one, just to get your toes wet (we
can toast them over the open fire); and then, because
you're desperate for some last-minute 1985 tax shelter, I'll
tell you about a deal that comes highly recommended.

THE ENORMOUS SHORT ONE

This example comes courtesy of Jane Bryant Quinn’s
column in Newsweek. It regards an ad that ran in various
newspapers for the Oppenheimer Special Fund, which
“touts an annual return of 21.5 percent and invites you to
compare that with the rate you get at banks.”

Now, you may be no Ivan Boesky, but you know that
21.5 percent is a heck of a lot better than you could ever
get from a bank. You also know that Oppenheimer is Ger-
man or Yiddish or South African or something for “smart
with the bucks." There are not a lot of pro ballplayers
named Oppenheimer, but who wants Matty Alou manag-
ing his portfolio? So, while you know that a mutual fund
can't guarantee returns like this, of course, and that you
may have to pay a sales commission to buy into this fund
(you do: one to eight and a half percent, depending on the
investment), you figure that this has got to be one hot
fund. Up 21.5 percent compounded for a decade? Why,
that’s enough to turn a $10,000 IRA into a $500,000 IRA
in 20 years, even if you never add another cent to it!

Anyhow, you know there are a lot of mutual funds out
there, but this one certainly sounds as good as any, so in
you plunge. Oppenheimer sends you a prospectus along
with the application papers, and as prospectuses go, it’s

not even all that enormous. But what are you—a lawyer?

Jane Bryant Quinn isn’t a lawyer, either—just magna
from Middlebury—but she read the prospectus and
reports that “the big gains that Oppenheimer packs into
its alluring yield of 21.5 percent came long ago. Between
1974 and 1980, share values rose an average of 39 percent
a year. But zigzag performance from 1980 to 1984 brought
an average annual loss of four percent, In the first quarter
of 1985, the Special Fund measured 519th out of 773 funds
tracked by Lipper Analytical Services.”

Maybe the fund will regain its touch, Quinn concludes,
“but its ad (and similar ads for other funds) would lead
you to think it has been making a lot of money lately
which is not the case.”

“THE ENORMOUS LONGER ONE,
HIGHLY RECOMMENDED

OK. Get the idea? It's a jungle out there. You've simply
got to read the prospectus. And since you won’t—most
prospectuses are all but unreadable—you've got to stick
to sensible investments recommended by competent, dis-
interested parties. Not competent or disinterested, compe-
tent and disinterested—which very likely leaves out tips
from your dentist (other than the tip about flossing) and
may even leave out advice from your accountant, who may
be getting a commission for steering you into the deal.

If only you had access to an expert you could trust.
Someone who did know how to read a prospectus.

With that in mind, pour yourself a beer and get out
your letter opener,* for what we (continued on page 256)

"Excuse me for interrupting, but if you open an envelope with a letter opener,
wouldn't you open a can of beer with a beer opener? Is this not precisely the sort of
thing the analogous-thinking section of the SATs was supposed to prepare us for? A
bison is to a bos'n as a bassoon is to a blank? Is it possible that the inventor of the
letter opener, rich beyond imagining though he must be, is one of those guys who
got, like, 300s on their aptitudes, man, and got sent to work in the mail room—like,
all he'd ever amount to, man—and then. stuck there in the mail room
great, unconventional dreams, he one day invented, and misnamed, the
“letter” opener?

Ifyou think this footnote is bizarre, wait till you read some of the ones in financial
prospecti

195

PLAYBOY

“Gosh, I thought we'd been too naughty.”

Pius

MOTOWN'S ze
25th

ANNIVERSARY

SPECTACULAR IS

MOTOWNS greatest stars, performing some of the een hits of all time.Two
hours of live music —featuring 30 minutes of new MOTOWN footage avail-
able only on this videocassette. And rare clips from the 50s and 60s.

Available at fine video stores now.

"Manufacturers suggest
1985 MGMIUA Home Video, 250 Ave. of he Americas, New York, NY 10019

in the fast-forward world
of electronic entertainment,

tomorrow is today

THE TROUBLE with predicting the future
is that the present keeps changing. Just
look at old Buck Rogers (the space trav-
eler, not the baseball manager). He
sure seemed futuristic at the time. His
equipment and adventures were based
on technology and ideas already in
existence. They fulfilled expectations
of what the world could be. Today, what
seemed futuristic in the Fifties looks
like so much tin foil. Now we are aware
of many possibilities undreamed of
then, and many of the technologies we
take for granted surpass anything
available to poor Buck.

There is a lesson to be learned here
about crystal balls and humility. Tech-
nology is advancing at such a furious
pace that tomorrow practically materi-
alizes before our eyes. Here, we take a
peek into the electronic future, starting
with the sure bets, then plunging for-
ward into less certain territory, up to—
and a little beyond—the turn of the
century. If your ray gun is loaded, we'll
start the voyage. (continued on page 208)

As new technology brings new freedom,
here's a look at what's ahead. From left:
Pioneers space-saving Рго-800 shelftop
system combines an integrated amplifier,
tuner, front-loading turntable, cassette
deck, compact-disc player, equalizer and
speakers, all operable via one remote
control, $1800; the ADS СОЗ compact-disc
player, $895, can be controlled by the
RC-1 Master Control handset (below),
$100. Eventually, the same remote will
operate a full comple
from tuners to sate!
video ease, Sony's CCD-MBU Mini-8
camcorder is the size of a paperback book
and weighs only two pounds. It operates
on a rechargeable battery. It's sold
with the EV-CBU recorder/player, $1800
for both. Record-changer convenience
now comes to compact discs. Toshiba's
XR-V22 double-drawer CD player will
play two CDs sequentially, $500. Pio-
neers CDX-PI brings the quality and du-
rability of compact discs to your car. It
mounts easily in your dash to work with
pre-existing radio/tape players, $600.

|
AR
§ £
Q Y
Ny E SONY | 8 /
W1
@ Y vy “ff

VHS Hi Fi VCR has four video heads
for clean, clear special effects, MTS
broadcast-stereo-decoding circuitry and a
15-function wireless remote, $900. Sony's
CFD-5 portable CD player with cassette
deck, tuner, equalizer, amplifier and
‚ detachable two-way stereo speakers
^ weighs about 17 pounds and operates on
batteries ог А.С. cord, $500. Panasonic's
СТ-5511 monitor has а five-inch color
screen, operates on batteries or A.C. line
and weighs about nine pounds. It also
includes a tuner, if you just want to watch
TV, $430. Technics’ SL-XP7 portable CD
player fits into the palm of your hand and
has all the features of home units, $300.
For the best of both worlds, Kodak's
MVS-5380 is a home 8mm deck with a
detachable recorder section for portable
use. It has a digital-stereo sound track
and an audio-only mode for up to 12
hours of digital music on а two-hour cas-
sette. The units TV tuner has a built-in
broadcast-stereo decoder, $1500. Gen-
eral Electric's RRC-600 Control Central
allows you the benefit of remote con-
trol even when your system combines
products from different manufacturers,
$150. It's the forerunner of universal
remote controllers capable of operat-
ing every appliance in the house.

On the horizon, from left: Fisher's FVH-840°

202

PLAYBOY GUIDE

HOLD ON,
Irs COMIN

quick, take a sneak peek at

the electronic drawing board

We'd love to tell you that Sony is about to
come out with a new product called the
Crystal Ballman. Ifonly a clear view of the
future were that easy. But with some imag-
ination and a reasonable knowledge ofcur-
rent electronics, going out on a limb isn’t
all that hard. Simply, if you can think of it,
itll probably happen. With that in mind,
come with us to the drawing board.

Most current domestic robots look like high-tech
trosh receptacles. The next step, though, isn't
that far off. Hollywood has already shown us
what can be done with о little silicone ond some
plastic skin. The brain of our reol doll (right)
‘amounts to a microcomputer thot occepts
ROM commands from a compact disk. Insert
it into her slot; she'll follow you anywhere.

ILLUSTRATIONS BY RICHARD KRIEGLER.

As you can see, we're very tuned in to televi-
sion. At the bottom of the preceding page,
you'll find the TYG (television goggles), the
ultimate in personal stereo and video. In oddi-
tion to alreody existing digital sound, TVG will
feoture 3-D viewing inside the goggles’ lens
(prototype technology has already been dem-
onstrated) with 180-degree screen (the some
technology that brings us flat-screen TV will
ollow this). There's no more futuristic оу to
wotch those Honeymooners reruns. The fellow
ot the top of this роде is a big TV fan, too. He's
wearing something we coll the Dishmon. It's o
portoble sotellite dish thot is worn comfortably
about the heod and is complemented by а smoll
flat-screen TV. With high-power direct brood-
costs from sotellites already using smoller
dishes, you ји! add ovailoble micro-
minioturization to give every mon his own pri-
vote receiving station. You'll be oble to make
video phone colls on the run or, by just tilting
your heod о tod, pull in the lotest episode of
Dynasty. Finally, dashboard computer novigo-
tion is obcut to come off the drowing boord.
Such companies os Philips ond Bloupunkt
olready hove it in the prototype stage. This
dashboard of the neor future will be totally
digitized. Via o rooftop ontenno that will
bounce beoms off on orbiting novigotionol sot-
ellite, your position on the road will be con-
stontly plotted on coordinote disploy. With
CDs providing the maps, the sotellite will olert
you to chonging road conditions and rest stops.
There'll also be on infrared siting screen for
night driving. And G.M., says the rumor mill, is
working on something close to outomatic pilot.

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speaker system. Now we have designed. response so you get all the dynamic range
the state-of-the-art car stereo speaker for in today’s music. The bass is more clear
today’s music requirements, The new than ever before and the new midrange
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listen. This sound is that good. In the final
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good as your speakers. If your speakers
cant play it all, you won't hear it all. So
don't buy backwards. Speakers first—and
begin with a Classic!

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A classic stands the test of time. So

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1985 International Jensen, Inc.

PLAYBOY GUIDE
PEAK PERFORMERS

rising stars open their homes and tour buses to show their stuff

n

HARRY ANDERSON

“Tm a real high-tech kid,” says the star
of NBC's Night Court. "Any chance to
look at a TV screen, ГИ do it. The only
problem is, I can’t just sit still and watch.
I have to be doing something else at the
same time. Computers, then, are perfect
for me. I get to stare at the screen and doa
lot of neat things at the same time. 105
very satisfying.
he first computer I bought was a lit-
Че $100 Commodore. I got it in a toy store
when I was shopping for my four-year-old
daughter. When I got it home and started
playing with it, I realized what a good
time it was, so I moved on and bought an
Apple Пе, a real hot-rodder.

“But then I heard about the Macintosh
and I bought one for my wife. Before long,
though, we were both using it. Everything
else looked antiquated next toit. What real-
ly impressed me was that my wife, who's
not electronically oriented at all, really
started doing serious work on it, plus all
the household stuff—checkbook balanc-
ing, party lists. She loved it. So I had по
choice—I had to get one for myself.

“T use mine for storyboard ideas, 1 even
outline magic tricks on it. Right now, I'm
in the process of inventorying 1200 props.
And 1 bought Macs for the other members
of my production company. The four of us
draft work, exchange information, write
routines. We used it to write Hello, Sucker!
[a Showtime special]. It really helped our
writing a lot.

“What I like about it the most, though, is
how friendly it is. It looks like a kitchen
appliance, nice and homey. And the inter-
face between the user and the machine is so
pleasant that you expend all of your efforts
On the creative process, not on trying t0
learn how to use the computer. Hey, who
are we kidding? I'm no computer scientist. I
want to be able to get right to work without
a lot of study first, and you can do that on
the Macintosh. It’s made a convert out of
me. The machine can really work magic—
both literally and figuratively.

“What's the best thing about it? That's
easy. It’s the one computer that’s so slick
you can use it and never, ever feel like a
nerd.”

=
=
—

RON MESAROS.

2%

MARIO CASILLI

WEIRD AL
YANKOVIC

“] usually sleep for most of the hours
that we're on the road,” says the hot pop
parodist. “But when I do wake up, usually
for lunch, the first thing I do is turn on the
video monitor and sec what's playing on
the old VCR

“The machine I have, a Panasonic PV
1225, came with the tour bus, but it looks
a lot like the machine I have at home. It’s
got an awful lot of buttons and knobs, and
you know that when something has that
many buttons and knobs on it, it’s got to
be darn good. It just looks so impressive,
you figure it'll do all sorts of great things
besides play tapes. I tried it once. I pulled
up to somebody's driveway and pushed all
the buttons and waited. 1 guess ] did
something wrong, though. The garage
door never did go up.

“Still, it does seem to play tapes nicely.
My only problem is, I have just one tape:
On Golden Pond. It came with the
machine. I've been watching it every day
for the past month and a half, and I love it.
I've memorized it. I'm even beginning to
understand the plot

“It would be nice to have a couple of
other cassettes, but it's a logistical prob-
lem to rent tapes on the road. You take
them out and the next day, you've got to
drive a couple of hundred miles back to
the store to return them.

I'm hoping, though, that everybody
keeps getting tapes, especially copies of my
new one, The Compleat Al. Y hope I don't
sound too pushy by plugging that, but I do
think it could turn out to be the next On
Golden Pond. Y haven't gotten Henry Fon-
da’s voice down yet, but 1 do a great Kath-
arine Hepburn.”

JOAN VAN ARK

"My workdays run between 12 and 15
hours,” says the star of CBS’ Кпоѓ Land-
ing, “во by the time I get through with a
week of shooting the show, the last thing in
the world I feel like doing is going out
Anywhere. Thanks to the video setup we
have, though, we really don’t have to. We
can just curl up on one of the leather
couches and watch a movie on the VCR.
We have a G.E. 5018X and an RCA
45-inch TV that I gave my husband [L.A
television reporter John Marshall] for his
birthday last year. The giant screen is
great. It almost makes you fecl like уоште
at the movies. Of course, they don’t have
leather couches at the movies.

“If we just want to watch what comes
over the tube, we have a lot more choices
than we used to. We took the satellite dish
that we'd inherited when we bought the

JIM SCHNEPF

house and updated it by installing an
antenna actuator and satellite tracker. So
now, instead of just the usual networks, we
get about. 130 stations from all over the
world. It's really fascinating to watch, so
many different perspectives, and it was
remarkable during last vear's Olympics.
Instead of just watching what ABC
wanted everyone to watch, we could flip
all over the world and watch the coverage
from Japan or France or Australia or even
China.

“These days, we listen to everything in
since we've hooked the TV up to
music system. He's very devoted to
а Sony STRV-7 receiver and his JBL Сеп-
tury L-100 speakers. The entire effect is
absolutely fabulous. We can watch any-
thing we want on a huge screen, with
crystal-clear sound. The only problem we
have now is protecting our privacy. Ever
since we made our system so great, all of
our friends want to come over and watch it
with us.”

Introducing Sanyo Super Beta.
The video recorder that brings you 20% closer to reality.

The Sanyo Super Beta 7250 systems. The resolution you get edit to edit, generation to

VCR delivers a picturesotrueto with Sanyo Super Beta is so generation.

life, it practically jumps out at life-like it brings every detail A picture that combines with
you. A picture that's a full 20% ofa dragonfly's wing, every the superior 8048 dynamic
sharper, with finer reproduction texture nature has to offer range of our Beta Hi-Fi to bring

of detail and texture than any ^ into clearer focus. For a picture you a sight and sound
VHS system ever made. It's even that stays remarkably sharper, experience that is a giant leap
better than regular Beta clearer, and more intense from closer to life itself.

Far SSANYO

THE MODERN ART OF ELECTRONICS.

PLAYBOY

FUTURE TECH

(continued from page 198)

“Imagine a screen the size of present-day projection
units but flat, very thin and self-contained.”

Compact discs have already brought a
major change in the way we listen to
music. Less than half the size of their
black-vinyl predecessors, these digitally
encoded doughnuts provide longer play
and superior sound, durability and conven-
ience. They have spread from the home to
the car, and you can have complete
portability with battery-powered micro-
players such as the Sony D-5 and the
Technics SL-XP7. The secret of these
laser-read discs is their incredible stor-
age density, which is just beginning to be
exploited. Record companies are starting
to introduce CDs with graphics to accom-
pany the music.

Meanwhile, computer manufacturers
are exploring the possibilities of CD-
ROM. That means whatever is stored on
the disc at the time it is made can be
retrieved, but nothing new can be added.
For those who need enormous amounts of
fast read/write storage, a number of
companies—including Sony, Matsushita
(parent of Technics and Panasonic) and

Nakamichi—are working on erasable
CDs. The first fruits of their labor may be
available very soon to computer users, and
within a few years, we may see blank, eras-
able CDs that can be used over and over
on combination recorder/players.

Digital technology is also making its
mark in television. The first digital sets—
from Panasonic and Toshiba—are already
available, and more are on the way. They
use a set of ITT chips to convert the
incoming TV signal into а series of di
codes, which are then manipulated to per-
form the signal processing required to
retrieve the picture and the sound. But the
fact that the signals are in digital form per-
mits additional processing to achieve spe-
cial effects and improve picture quality.
Current models do just one trick, called
picture in picture. You can monitor a sec-
ond channel on a small subscreen set into
a corner of the picture. But far more is pos-
sible. Mitsubishi is working on a model
that can display up to nine separate pic-
tures. And within the next few years, we

A CONVENTIONAL WARHEAD

will see units that can freeze the frame,
zoom in on a small portion of it (to settle
those close calls), eliminate most ghosts
and enhance detail. Eventually, almost all
television receivers will be digital.

Also in video, we're beginning to see the
first serious push for 8mm video-cassette
decks and camcorders. These machines
use tape that’s about half the width of
VHS and Beta, and the cassettes are much
smaller. That makes possible very light-
weight, compact units, such as Sony’s
Mini-8. Some manufacturers (including
Kodak, Pioncer and Sony) have gone a
step further and added stereo digital
sound tracks for ultrahigh-fidelity sound. A
bonus feature of these decks is an audio-
only mode that enables each to record as
much as 24 hours of music on one cassette.

While the video-recording technique
used in 8mm VCRs is essentially the same
as that used in Beta and VHS units, new
methods are being tested. Perpendicular
recording, which can pack much more
information per square inch of tape sur-
face, is one possibility. This might even be
combined with digital encoding of the
video signal, which could provide a VOR
picture of broadcast quality. Look for
developments by the end of the decade.

So much for the near future. There are
even more exciting horizons a little further
off: flat-screen TV, for example. Imagine а
screen the size of those that come with
present-day projection television units but
flat, very thin and self-contained. (It
might be necessary to plug it into an exter-
nal tuner, but that would be much smaller
than a projection console.) A number of
companies (RCA, most prominently) are
working on such systems, but the technical
obstacles are formidable. Obtaining ade-
quate brightness, resolution and color
accuracy in a reasonably priced system is
going to be tough. Nonetheless, the prob-
lems should be solved by the middle Nine-
ties, in time for you to watch the ball drop
at the turn of the millennium.

By then, video will have another new
world to conquer as serious development
of commercial high-definition television
(HDTV) begins. This, too, entails great
technical and practical difficulties. All of
the HDTV systems developed so far
would require the equivalent of several
standard television channels to broadcast
just one signal. But research into human
visual acuity could help pare them down
by telling us what information could be
omitted without lowering picture quality.
Another avenue is data compression,
which could squeeze the necessary infor-
mation into a smaller signal-band width.
Or will there be an end run around the
issue, using direct broadcast from satellite
(DBS) to carry HDTV broadcasts? This
would require the installation of small
dish antennas on the rooftops of receiving
homes. And then there’s the matter of try-
ing to maintain some compatibility with
existing television sets fora graceful period
of transition. Nonetheless, some sort of

HDTV should be available by the year
2000 or so, bringing with it life-size images
as sharp as those of 35mm slides. And well
before that, there will be fully compatible
enhancements that will yield better pic-
ture quality in both broadcast and recep-
tion of conventional television signals.

You've probably noticed that cars, cam-
eras and appliances are beginning to talk
to you. Unfortunately, they don't listen
when you reply, but that’s about to
change. Voice-recognition technology is
good enough and cheap enough
in consumer products. By the
early Nineties, remote control will mean
(at least in part) the ability to tell your TV
set to change channels and your stereo sys-
tem to tum on and play the CD of your
choice—just as the Jetsons did.

At the same time, great strides are being
made in the fabrication of integrated
circuits—the tiny chips that are at the
heart of all of today’s advanced electron-
ics. More circuitry is being squeezed in-
to smaller packages. By the end of the
century, this will lead to personal
supercomputers—desktop units зо fast
and powerful that they will be able to
solve problems that now require the
world’s largest and most expensive main-
frames. The same technology, combined
with voice recognition, artificial-intel-
ligence software and electronic sensing
systems, will make personal robots a real.
ity within a decade. These will be far supe-
rior to the primitive models developed in
recent years. They will be able to hear and
respond to spoken commands, to learn
from experience or from watching a task
being performed and to do most simple
household chores. By early in the next cen-
tury, you should be able to buy a gentle-
man’s gentlebot that can clean house,
wash dishes and mix you a drink—all
without ever asking why you didn’t come
home last night.

Sometime in the first quarter of the next
century, even the compact disc will be dis-
placed by solid-state modules that are
smaller, completely nonmechanical and
reusable. These, similar to the crystallike
memory units that taught Superman in
the movie, probably will displace tape as
well. Together with high-density inte-
grated circuits, they will make it possible
to put an entire home-entertainment sys-
tem (except for the video screen) into a
small box that can be voice- or handset-
controlled from anywhere in your home.
Or there may be a second, larger box that
contains all your music and video record-
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store but from the satellite dish or fiber-
optic cable feeding TV, radio and other
services into your home. When you want
to take your music with you, you plug your
personal stereo into your home system and
fill it with whatever you want to hear; a
plug-in cartridge serves the same function
for your car.

All of this will come to pass. The lucki-
est of us will be around to enjoy it. Buck
Rogers can only drool.

Ej

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PLAYBOY

210

BARBI

(continued from page 166)
All to the good, says Barbi: “It’s changed
my life. I'm aware of so many more things
than I was before. Listening to music, I
hear so many more notes and instruments
than 1 ever did. I smell things that I never
have before. If I walk into a room, I can
smell the curtains. I can smell dirty feet.

“I've also been going to classes at the
Groundlings, which is a Second City-type
group in Los Angeles. And we're doing
improv. Working with the Groundlings
has helped me, because it has allowed me
to be very silly on stage.

‘Well, it’s all come to something. I’m
very secure now with my acting, and that’s
all that I really care about. I want to be
able to do good work when it’s offered and
not be embarrassed by the reviews.

“I don't want to be queen of the B's,
and I'm turning down the roles that are
being offered to me in that area, because
they're not movies that I can take my par-
ents to. Гуе done a few of them, and
they’re just not quality films.”

There was a time, back in the early Sev
enties, when Barbi was best known for her
appearances in PLAYBOY pictorials. So pop-
ular was she, in fact, that the myth persists
that she was either a Playmate ora Bunny.
She was neither. But her last PLAYBOY fea-
ture appeared in December 1973. Why did
she decide to pose again now?

“Marilyn Grabowski, rLAvBOY's West
Coast Photo Editor, had approached me a
number of times about doing another pic-
torial. I finally decided, Why not?”

Barbi has plenty of other things on her
mind as well. She has recently discovered
self-discipline and its attendant rewards.
So now it’s bed by ten, up at six, health
food and lots of exercise. She had always
been a sports fanatic, but now she has

moved beyond the pale. She skis expertly,
runs up to 12 miles a day and thinks noth-
ing of 200-mile bicycle rides. She has con-
quered the marathon and is eying the
triathlon. Luckily, her husband, busi-
nessman George Gradow, is similarly
motivated.

Music, too, is still a passion for Barbi.
She has ри! а lot of study and training into
her singing career and has come a long
way. “I remember when I used to audition
for the high school musicals and they’d
say, ‘You should be a dancer.” As а
country-and-western singer, she has devel-
oped quite а following in the U.S.A. And
in the Scandinavian countries, she’s con-
sidered a rock star.

“It's the only place I feel like Rod Stew-
art!” says Barbi, but the fact is, she once
had, simultaneously, the top single and
four albums in the top ten in Scandinavia.

“I love country music,” she says. "And
I love rock ’n’ roll. But my next album is
going to be new-age music. I spent a sum-
mer learning how to play the piano, and 1
am obsessed with it now. When I run in
the morning, I write melodies in my head.
I can’t wait to get back to the piano to find
the chords that I hear.

“Now I don’t need to work with some-
body else. That is the biggest release I’ve
had in a long time. Before, I had to sit with
somebody else. I would sing a melody and
the other person would find the chords,
and it was frustrating. Now I can find it
myself, and it has opened up the world of
music for me. When I come out with my
next album, it is going to be unique. I am
not going to be a carbon copy of anybody.
I've always been looking for this kind of
independence and have never found it—

until now.”

D <} /

CEST MON

(continued from page 144)
laboratories—the testing done on ani-
mals—is atrocious. It’s sick. But you
couldn’t fight that every day. You would
cry all the time. So, at the Anti-Cruelty
Society, I take the dogs out of their cages
and take them for walks. I give them some
affection. I would like to be part of a pro-
gram called Pet Therapy, too—taking
puppies to hospitals or nursing homes. It
does wonders. Old people who haven’t
talked or shown emotion for years, they
talk, they cry. One job I want to have
someday is training animals to help blind
people. I would like to help people and
animals at the same time.”

Carol gets a little weary of constantly
being asked her impressions of the United
States, but she can’t help mentioning a few
differences between her home country and
this one.

“I find American people much more
friendly than the French. Women here are
nicer with other women, for one thing.
When I first got here, I would go to a res-
taurant and a lady would say, ‘Oh, you
look wonderful; you're so pretty.’ And I
thought, That’s so strange! In France, if
you look wonderful, another woman will
check you out, but she will never tell you
that you look nice. Also, I like the kind of
fun you have here. American fun—
whatever kind—it’s more loud, there's so
much more noise.

“Now, with sex, I must say I prefer the
French. Americans are more repressed,”
she says, taking pains to point out that her
American husband is an exception. “The
French are more open. Nude beaches
everywhere; you can be topless anywhere.
It seems to me that with French people,
sex is more natural. It’s something that is
there, and it’s nice, and let’s not make a
big deal out of it.”

Soon Carol will be studying the big
deals we call the Boston Tea Party, Bunker
Hill, the Louisiana Purchase (known in
France as "une grosse erreur”)—those
mightily important events about which
Americans have forgotten all the details.

“I have to learn your history,” she says.
“I'm going to try to be an American citi-
zen. It’s funny, you know? I am French.
It’s my background and, goddamn it, I'm
French. But as far as America is con-
cerned, you can’t be both. America says,
‘If you become American, this is it. You
swear you won’t have anything to do with
your other country.” Which is a little dras-
tic. The French, they say, “Tough. Who
cares? To us, you will always be
French."

Carol Ficatier, as French as the lilt iı
her voice and the mischief in her eye, is
going to be one of those Americans to
whom the rest of us point with pride.

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BERKE BREATHED-

In 1980, Berke Breathed wasn't sure whether he'd be photograph-
ing penguins or drawing them. His first choice was drawing—at least,
drawing the one bird that now serves as the centerpiece for his Bloom
County, one of the best of the socially conscious comic strips to follow
Doonesbury. But when the University of Texas photography major
tried to peddle his work, he found little interest in satire featuring a
talking penguin, a wheelchair-bound hero, a neurotic child, an
opportunistic attorney and other odd types, especially when topics
e from nuclear disarmament to Eddie Murphy

‘I had contacted all the major syndicates and had been turned
down,” Breathed remembers. “So I was hoping to become a National
Geographic photographer instead.” Finally, one small syndicate gave
him a chance and Breathed promptly carned a cult following in 450
newspapers, along with a reputation for controversy that has seen
some of his more pointed satirical gibes pulled by local editors
Editors are afraid of being sued,” the 28-year-old New Mexico
resident complains. “And the comics are getting more and more com-
mercial. It’s going to destroy them as it destroyed children's TV.”

Breathed, of course, plans to protect Bloom County from such a fate.
“There are no more Mark Twains,” he says defiantly. “Cartoonists
are the last renegade commentators in society.” —STEVE GOLDBERG

STEVEN PUMPHREY

RON MESAROS

“MARK PEEL
AND NANCY
SILVERTON

beyond the tuna melt

“Sometimes, I think Fm living inside
that New Yorker cartoon in which the man
is saying to the waiter, “If pesto is p:
bring us whatever's taken over" s
Mark Peel, who, with his wife, Nancy Sil-
verton, has earned a national reputation
creating foods of the moment

Both Peel, 30, and Silverton, 31, were
chefs at the legendary Spago, one of the
glitziest Los Angeles restaurants and one
of the most adventurous in terms of cui-
sine. Recently, they moved to New York,
where they're now running the kitchen of
the newly revamped Maxwell's Plum.

“If you work on an item long enough,
you'll inevitably screw it up,” maintains
Ped. “Sometimes, dishes you think arc
completely off the wall, like lobster and
vanilla sauce, come out tas

“My mother tells me she’s terrified to
cock for me now,” he says. “She did for 25
years and 1 never complained.”

People don't understand,” says Silver-
ton. "We're never critical in people's
homes. My lavorite dish is tuna melt. I
cook tuna melts about three times a
week." — MERRILL SHINDLER

ленно FRIEDMAN

“JAN HAMMER

scoring with crockett and tubbs

Although Miami Vice seems to have spawned
its share of imitators, with Top 40 music blast
ing from several TV sound tracks this
still has an exclusive on Jan Hammer, the man
who singlehandedly composes, arranges and
performs the show's moody and hypnotic
score, which augments and sometimes even
overshadows the more familiar songs.

Every ten days or so, after a segment is shot
in Miami and edited in Los Angeles, a rough
cut is delivered by courier to Hammer's 150-
year-old farmhouse studio in Dutchess County,
New York. There, using a range of old and
state-of-the-art digital synthesizers, recorders,
guitars and a Steinway piano, the Czech-born
Hammer rushes to compose 20 to 25 minutes of
music. Four of his songs are on the new Miami
Vice sound-track album

“Its a real high-pressure job,” he says wea-
rily. “Once, I finished a show |
before the air date. It’s like doing an album
every two weeks.”

Not that the 37-year-old composer is com-
plaining. “1 pretty much have my say on what
kind of music и will be. It lets me be free when

on, it

ї two days

I write," he explains. “This is the musical
equivalent of shooting your mouth off; it's truc
experimentation.” — JOHN BLUMENTHAL

PLAYBOY

216

SPACESHIP

(continued from page 175)
drank it; the others had to draw the line
somewhere.

This morning, all hands had gathered
for the prelanding meal. At the head of the
round table sat Captain Standforth him-
self, under the glassy eyes of nearly two
score defunct birds mounted on the wal!
the stuffing of which was his only true
vocation. Descended from those Stand-
forths, the ones who had so routinely over
the past seven generations covered them-
selves with glory in the service of the Galac-
tic Patrol, the captain had been compelled
by both family and destiny to enlist when
his turn came, just as the patrol had been
compelled by family and history to take
him, inadvertently and unhappily proving
that sometimes neither nature nor nurture
may create character. Taxidermy? A
Standforth? Regrettably, yes.

Gathered around, scoffing down the
fabrifood, were the rest of the expend
able captain's expendable crew, plus his
lone expendable passenger, Councilman
Morton Luthguster, as plump and pomp-
ous as a pouter pigeon crossed with a
blimp. The crew consisted of second-in-
command Lieutenant Billy Shelby, young
and idealistic but not too awfully bright;
Astrogator Pam Stokes, very bright and
very beautiful but a stranger to passion;
Ensign Kybee Benson, whose encyclope-
dic knowledge of human societies did not
keep him from being personally antisocial;
and stockily blunt Chief Engineer Hester
(of the coffee) Hanshaw, proud mistress of
the engine room.

The captain wiped his lips on a
toastette, then ate it. "Well," he said to
his murky band, “we'll be landing soon.”
His mild eyes gleamed with visions of this
unknown new planet and the unimagina-
ble new birds he would soon disembowel.

Councilman Luthguster, swirling a
forkful of papjack in pseudoleo, said,
“What is this place we're coming to, En-
sign Benson? What are its characteristics?"

“No onc knows for sure about this one,
Councilman,” the ensign told him. “The
old records simply sav the colonists were a
group of like-minded people whose goal
was a simple life free of surprises.”

“Well, well be а surprise,” the council
man said

.

Jim Downey and Hank Carpenter stood
gazing up into the clear green sky, where
the sun—good old Ptolemy, nicknamed
sun after the good old Sol from which their
forebears had so long ago departed—
poised midway up its morning arc.
“They're late,” Jim said

“They'll get here,” Hank assured him.

•

Councilman Luthguster said, "What's
the name of the place, Ensign Benson? I’ve
noticed that the name the colonists give
their settlement frequently offers a clue to

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their social structure.”
“It’s called Figulus,” Ensign Benson said.
gulu:
Blank looks around the table. Billy
Shelby said, “Wasn’t he one of the founders
of ancient Rome? Figulus and Venus.”
“No, Billy,” said Ensign Benson.

Jim frowned skyward. “You don’t sup-
pose they got the coordinates wrong?
Landed someplace else on Figgy?” Behind
them, on the knoll where they stood, the
pleasant town dreamily awaited.

hey're dawdling over their breakfast,
like as not," Hank replied. “In fact, there
they come yonder.”

О

"Publius Nigidius Figulus,” Ensign

Benson said. “He was the most learned
Roman of his age, a writer and a states-
man, died circa forty-five вс?”
Billy looked sad. “Died at the circus?
Thats awful."
“Terrible,” the ensign agreed. “Fig
was most noted for his books on reli;
and——"

"We're," Pam Stokes said, her ancestral
slide rule moving like a live thing in her
slender-fingered hands, a subtle alteration
simultaneously taking place in the faint
aura of engine hum all about them,
“here,
стуопе jumped up to go look out the
view ports at Figulus, third of ten planets
in orbit around the Sollike star called Ptol-
ету. Only Ensign Benson remained at the
table, draining his vial of ocher juice.
“Апа astrology,” he finished.

.

“People ој Figulus——"

“Hi, Senator,” Jim said.

Councilman Luthguster frowned across
the top of his P.A.-system microphone at
the two locals at the foot of the extruded
stairs. He was on the platform at the top.
Both were middle-aged, mild-mannered,
Jim with a gray cardigan and a pipe, Hank
‘with eyeglasses and a tweed jacket. АП
four elbows sported leather patches. "1 am
a councilman,” he informed them.

“Ha!” said Hank. “That's а five-buck
you owe me, Jim.”

Jim scratched his head. “I would have
sworn a plenipotentiary from Earth would
be at least a senator."

Councilman Luthguster stared. “Т
haven't told you that yet," he told the world
through the P.A. system.

Just inside the ship where the others
waited, Ensign Benson frowned and said,
“What's going on out there?” He edged
closer to the open hatch, where he could
hear both sides of the conversation.

“Well, in any event," Hank was sayi
while his pal Jim sadly produced a five
buck from his wallet and handed it over,
“the councilman is not the onc we have to
talk to here. No, we want the man in
charge.”

“You mean the captain?”

Hank said, “No, no, he’s just some sort

217

PLAYBOY

218

of hobbyist along for the ride. We want
cial scien-

the—what will you call him?
tist. Anthropologist.”
Sociologist,” Jim suggested.

sign Benson stepped out into the
light. “Social engineer,” he said

“How do you do, sir," Hank said, smil-
ing behind his glasses, coming up the lad-
der with hand outstretched. “I'm Hank
Carpenter, mayor of Centerville.”

Back on the ground, Jim made a dang-it
gesture with his pipe. “I knew he'd be a
Scorpio! Dang it, that’s what we should
have bet on.

Ensign Benson accepted Hank’s firm
but friendly handclasp. “Centerville?”

“Well, sir," Hank said, “it happens that
this is the center of the universe. May not

look like much, but that’s what it is and
why our forebears came here. But let's quit
jawing. You and the councilman and the

four inside the ship, come on to town and
meet the folks.”

Ensign Benson held tight to the stair
rail. “Four inside?”

“Well, there's your captain," Hank
said. “Tall, skinny, distracted fella. A
ces. And his number two, а nice young boy
but not too quick upstairs—probably а
Moon Child. Moony, anyway.”

"Show-ofL" Jim said. He was still
smarting over his fiver.

Hank went on, pretending not to notice.
“Then there's your navigator

“Astrogator.””

“Same thing, just gussied up. A high-
ly motivated young person, probably
female.”

“Not yet,” Ensign Benson muttered.

“But definitely Virgo."

“That Vil go along with."

Now, your engineer," Hank went on,
solid Taurus, but we just can't decide if

“Your condo or mine?"

it's a man or a woman."

“Nobody can,” Ensign Benson said.

“I heard that,” Hester said, coming out
onto the platform to shake a wrench at the
ensign. “I’m a woman, and don't you for-
get it.”

“Why not?”

“Come on, folks," Hank said, gesturing.
toward town. “You've had a long. hard
journey; come along and relax."

The captain, the lieutenant and the
astrogator joined the three other Earth-
lings on the platform and they all looked
off toward town. A pretty little place with
peaked roofs, a traditional white steeple
and a sports ground alive with running,
yelling children, it nestled in a setting of
low hills where neat farms mingled with
elm groves, the whole area very much like
certain bits of Devon and Kent—the parts
beyond commuting distance from London.
“What a nice place,” Pam said, her slide
rule for one instant forgotten.

“You'll learn to love it,” Hank assured
them, “in time.”

.

“Chick, chick, Nero,” Jim said as Hank
explained to the Earthers, “Our energy
sources are really very slender. No oil, по
coal. Hydropower and solar power give us
enough electricity to run our homes and
businesses, but there was no way we could
kecp powered transportation. Fortunately,
there were several indigenous animals
capable of domestication, including the
like of old Nero here.”

Nero, a gray-and-white creature that
might very well pass for a horsy steed in
the dusk with the light behind it, was
apparently quite strong; without effort it
pulled this ten-scater surrey and its eight
passengers along the gently up-and-down
crushed-stone road toward town. A farmer
in a nearby field, plowing behind another
Nero, waved; Hank and Jim and Billy and
Hester waved back

“Have many birds here?” the captain
asked.

“Oh, all sorts.”

Ensign Benson had been deeply frown-
ing, intensely brooding, acutely staring
into the middle distance, but now all at
once he nodded and said, “Hyperradio.”

Jim frowned around his pipe.
what?”

“You must be in hyperradio contact with
опе of the colonies we already visited.”

“Not us,” Jim said. “Never heard of
hyperradio.”

“Then someone else has come here from
olf planet. Recently.”

“No, sir.” Jim shook his head and
Ncro's reins.

Hank said, “You're our first visitors in
five hundred years. You'll be starting the
guestbook.”

Ensign Benson gave him the old gimlet
сус. “You knew we were coming. You
knew how many of us and where we were
from and our mission. Somebody had to

Remember those few times when you
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>
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THE RADAR DEFENSE KIT

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PLAYBOY

220

tell you all that.”
“Easy,” Hank said, grinning.
stars told us.”

“The

•
The town was small but busy, with a
bustling, shop-filled main street, Nero-
powered surreys and wagons everywhere,
and an aura of prosperity and contentment.
"Whats that?" the captain asked as
they made their way around a white-stone
obelisk in its own little center-ol-the-street
garden,
"The peace memorial,” Hank said.
We've never had anybody to have a war
with, but the town plan called for a
our ancestors’ original
town back on Earth had one at that
spot—so about a hundred years ago, they
just went ahead and put up a peace
memorial.”

People waved as they went by, and а
dressed-up reception commitice waited
out front of the Grange hall. “I know
you've all had breakfast,” Hank said, “but
you could probably tuck into some real
food. Come on.”

Everybody climbed out of the surrey.
Billy Shelby, a happy and innocent smile
on his face, said to Ensign Benson. “Golly,
Kybee, isn't this place nice?"

“Pm not so sure,” the ensign muttered,
glowering at all those happy people.
“Keep your eyes open, Billy. There’s
something wrong here.”

•

Tt was a gala breakfast, laid on just for
the visitors and with nearly 50 of the most
prominent local citizens in attendance.
The Terrans were introduced to, among
many others, the principals of both high
schools, three ministers, one priest, four
doctors, both judges, the police chief, the
editors of both newspapers. ... Oh,
list went on and on. Then they all sat at
long trencher tables under crepe-paper
decorations of umber and sienna—Earth
colors—and happy chitchat filled the hall
as the food came out.

Real eggs. Real homemade bread with
real butter. Real bacon. “Hester,” Coun-
cilman Luthguster said, “this is what cof-
fee tastes like.”

“Not my coffee,” said Hester.

“I know,” said the councilman,

•

“How do you like breakfast?” Hank
asked.

“Fine,” said Ensign Benson, though, in
fact, it was allas ashes in his mouth. Look-
ing up, he noticed the designs painted high
on the walls, just under the ceiling, 12 on
each side, six along cach end. Beginning at
the front left, three designs incorporated
rams’ heads, three involved bulls,
then. ...““Thezodiac,” Ensign Benson said,

“You know it, then." Hank Carpenter
scemed pleased.

“Astrology. Publius Nigidius Figulus
wrote on astrology.”

“One of the great early scholars in the
science."

Ensign Benson raised such a skeptical

brow: “Science?”

Hank ollered such an indulgent chuckle:
“You're from Earth, of course.” he said,
“where it doesn’t operate as efficiently.”

‘Oh, really?

“If you were to take an ordinary
chemistry-lab experiment, Hank sug-
gested, “and try it underwater, the results
wouldn't please you. Would that
the science or reflect the surroun E
о what makes this place better sur-
roundings than Earth?”

“To begin with,” Hank said, “our being
at the center of the universe means there's
no distortion. ‘Then, our year is precisely
three hundred sixty days long, so we don't
have to keep eternally adjusting things
And Ptolemy’s system includes ten plan-
ets, and our planet has two moons. That
means that from here, we can observe nine
planets, two moons and our sun; twelve.
One heavenly body per house.”

“Oh, but you can’t seriously —
Аз the bumblebee said to the physi-
cist,” Hank said, “АП
works."

I know is,

P

The extremely beautiful blonde
Billy's left said, “Hi. Fm Linda. What's
your sign?"

“Billy

“Billy? No, that’s your name. When
were you born?”

“About three-thirty in the morning.”
Billy said. “Mom said everybody's born at
three-thirty in the morning. Can that be
righ?”

Linda thought about that. She had
beautiful violet eyes. “You were born in
July,” she decided and turned to talk to
the person on her other side.

•

Ensign Benson ate toast, eggs, bacon,
waffies; but he did not, in fact, taste a
thing. He was thinking too hard. “If
astrology works,” he said, “it rules out free
will.”

“Not at all," said Hank. “The heavens
don’t say certainly thus and so will happen,
or everybody born at the same time in the
same gencral area would be identical.
Astrology deals in probabilities. For
instance, the astral alignment so strongly
suggested that Earth would make fresh
contact with its Lost Colonies now that we
prety well discounted any other possibil-
ity, but as to the exact make-up of the
crew, there were some details we couldn't
be sure of."

“Still,” Ensign Benson said. "you're
telling me you people can read the
future.”

“The probabilities," Hank corrected.

.

“Of course,” Pam Stokes said, an actual
real piece of bacon in one hand and her
ever-present slide rule in the other, “there
are many ways to define the center of the
“ She bit off a piece of crunchy

they all work out to be right here."

Pam frowned. “This doesn’t taste like
bacon.”

“Something wrong?”

“No, its Actually, it’s better.”
Putting the slide rule down. she picked up
a fork and had at the scrambled eggs.

Pointing, Jim said, “What is that little
stick, anyway?”

“This slide rule? It's a sort of calculator,
used before the computer came in.”

“Like the abacus?” Jim picked it up,
pushed the inner pieces back and forth,
watched the little lines and numbers join
and separate.

“I guess so,” Pam said, reaching for the
toast, pausing in amazement when the
toast flexed. “It was my mother's," she ex-
plained, “and my mother's mother's, and
my mother's mother’s mother’s, and my

Very interesti
down.

g” Jim said and put it

.
Ensign Benson, lost in thought, had

stopped eating. “If уоште done," Hank

said, “we'll show you to your house.”

The ensign looked at him. “My
house?”
“You and your friends. We thought

you'd probably all want to live together at
first until you get to know the town, make
friends, find employment —

“Wait, wait a minute.” Ensign Benson
was almost afraid 10 phrase the question
“How long do you expect us to stay?

"Em sorry," Hank said. “You haven't
read your chart, of course. You'll be here
forever."

.
Give Councilman Morton Luthguster a
crowd, he'll make you a speech. “Earth
can do much for the people of Figulus," he
declaimed to the local citizens assembled
at his table. “Technology, trade agree-
ments. A chicken in every pot; a, a, a, a
horse thingy in every stable. Peace, pros-
perity

“We've gotall that,” said a citizen.

“And a stable buck,” said another.

Councilman Luthguster paused in mid-
flight. “Buck? A stable buck?" Visions of
deer, all with symmetrical antlers, leaped
in his head.

“That's our unit of currency геп
explained. “We have the quarter-buck,
half-buck, buck. five-buck, sawbuck, all
ihe way up to the C-buck and the grand-
buck.

nd it’s stable,” another said. “Been a
long time since there was a drop in the
buck."

105 entered the language idiomati-
cally,” said a citizen who happened tobea
high school principal. “Pass the buck, for
instance, meaning to pay a debt.”

“Buck the tide,” offered another.
“That's to throw good money after
bad."
“Buck and wing
“To buy your way out of a difficult
ation.”
The councilman stared, popeyed. “But

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PLAYBOY

A friendly citizeness patted his hand.
“You'll learn them," she assured him.
“Won't take long—a strong-willed Leo
like you.”

“Oh, no.” The councilman was firm on
that. “How happy I am ГЇЇ never have to
learn such gibberish.”

His audience just smiled.

.

“If your stars tell you we're staying
here,” Ensign Benson said, "they're
crazy."

“Look, friend,” Hank said. “What if the
billions and billions of human beings scat-
tered across the Galaxies were to learn
that right here, smack in the middle of
it all, was a place where they could find
out almost everything about the future?
What would happen?”

“You could do a great mail-order busi-
ness."

“They would come here," Hank said.
"In their billions. Our town would be
destroyed; our way of life would simply
come to an end.”

Reluctantly,
could get difficult.

“And that's why the stars say you'll
remain here and never expose us to the rest
of the human race.”

“Sorry,” the ensign said. “I understand
your feelings, but we have our own jobs to
do. We just can’t stay.”

ign Benson nodded. “It

“But you will,” Hank said apologeti-
cally but firmly. “You see, there’s an
armed guard at your ship right now, and
there will be for the rest of your lives."

.

Odd how easily the next month flowed
by. Billy Shelby got a paper route and a
job delivering for the supermarket. Pam
became a substitute math teacher at one of
the high schools, where the male students
could never figure out what she was talk-
ing about but flocked to her class anyway.
Captain Standforth, roaming the country-
side with his stun gun, brought back many
strange and—to him- teresting new
birds to stuff. Councilman Luthguster
took to hanging around down at city hall,
and Hester Hanshaw became a sort of
unofficial apprentice at the neighborhood
smi

Socially, the local belief that “those who
sign together combine together” made it
easy to meet folks of similar interests.
Herds of hefty Taurians took Hester away
for camping trips, Billy joincd a charitable
organization called Caring Cancers, a
Piscean gardening-and-water-polo club
cnrolled Captain Standforth, Pam linked
up with the Friends of the Peace Memorial
(an organization devoted to maintaining
the patch of flowers and lawn around said
memorial) and Councilman Luthguster
joined the local branch of Lions Club
Intergalactical.

“Tm having ту last tax-free Christmas party.”

Only Ensign Kybee Benson failed to
make the slightest adjustment. Only he sat
brooding on the porch of their nice white-
clapboard house with the green shutters.
Only he resisted the overtures of his sign's
organization (the Scorpio Swing
gles Club). Only he failed to learn the
local idioms, take an interest in the issues
raised by the morning and ev
papers (which gave the follow
weather with perfect accuracy), involve
himself in the community. Only he refused
to accept the reality of the local saying that
meant the end of negotiation, parley, hag-
gling: The buck stops here

.

“Buck up, Kybee,” Billy said, coming
up the stoop.

"What?" Ensign Benson, in his rocking
chair on the porch, glared red-eyed at the
returning delivery boy. “What is that sup-
posed to mean in this miserable place?”

“Gee, Kybee,” Billy said, backing away
a little, “the same as it does on Earth. It
means ‘Be cheerful; look on the sunny
side."

“What sunny side? We're trapped here,
imprisoned in this small town for the rest of
our”

“vs really not that bad, Kybee,” Billy
told him. “The folks are real nice. And I
do like my jobs. I'm not making big bucks
yet, but”

"Garr-rraaaghhh!" Ensign Benson an-
nounced, leaped to his feet and chased
Billy three times around the block before
his id gave out

.

Somehow, the second month was less
fun. The area round about Centerville had
shown to Captain Standforth its full reper-
tory of birds; the board of aldermen would
let Councilman Luthguster neither deliver
а speech to them nor (as a noncitizen) run
for office against them; the high school
boys, having grown used to Pam’s uscless
beauty and having realized none of them
would ever either claim her or understand
her, now flocked away from her classes; at
the supermarket, Billy was passed over for
promotion to assistant produce manager;
and a Nero kicked Hester in the rump
down at the smithy, causing her to limp.

On the social side, things weren't much
better. Hester found her hiking Taurians
too bossy and quit. Caring Cancers met
every week in a different member’s home
to discuss, over milk and gingersnaps, pos-
sible recipients for its good works but so
far hadn't found any, which made Billy
feel silly. The captain’s gardening-and-
water-polo club kept postponing its mcet-
ings, necessitating constant rounds of
messages and plan reshuffüngs. No two
Friends of the Peace Memorial, including
Pam, could agree on a flower arrange-
ment. And Ci Iman Luthguster, а
a hard-fought campaign in which he had
taken an extremely active part, had been
blackballed at the Lions Club.

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PLAYBOY

hung around the house, vaguely fretful.
The bilious green sky, the nasty sun (color
of ocher juice), the two mingy little marble
moons in their eccentric orbits all pressed
down on the landscape, on the tow!
their own little gabled house, with its
squeaking floors and doors that stuck.
The local citizens had brought from the
Hopeful all their personal possessions—
clothes, tools, video camera and monitor,
the captain's birds, Pam’s sky charts,
Billy’s collection of The Adventures of
Space Cadet Hooper and His Pals Fatso and
Chang, Ensign Benson's folders of Betel-
geusean erotica, the bound cassettes of
Councilman Luthguster’s speeches to the
Galactic Council (with the boos edited
ош), even Hester’s coffee mug—but all
these things simply reminded them of their
former lives, made their present state less
rather than more bearable.

Centerville was a small town in no
nation. Distractions were few and local.
No movies or video, only the Moming
Bugle and the Afternoon Independent for
reading matter, very little variety in cloth-
ing or food (all good, all stolid) and no
real use for any of their skills or talents. In
500 years, the population had grown from
the original 63 to just over 11,000, but
11,000 people aren't very many when
that’s all there are.

Even the news that both high school
bands would march in next month’s Land-
ing Day parade didn’t lift their spirits a
hell of a lot. That’s how bad things were.

•

Ensign Benson brooded alone in his
rocking chair on the front porch, watching
the world (hah!) go by. when a bit of the
world in the person of Mayor Hank С
penter came up onto the stoop to say,
“Hidy, Kybee.”

The ensign gave him a look from under
lowered brows. Hank cleared his throat,
а bit uncomfortable. “We're sending an
ambulance,” he said.

“You're what?”

“Sorry,” Hank said, looking truly sorry,
“but we'll be taking the captain over to the
hospital for a while.

“What for?”

“Well, uh, he’s about to try to commit
suicide."

Ensign Benson stared. He knew these
people now; they didn’t lie and weren't
wrong. But the captain? He said, "I
thought I'd be the first to snap.”

“Oh, no,” Hank assured him. “In fact,
you'll, uh, be the last."

“That's it,” Ensign Benson said. Rising,
he pointed a stern finger at Hank. “Keep
your ambulance. We'll take care of our
own."

“Well, if you're sure you

But the ensign had gon
and slammed the door.

•

He found the captain upstairs in his
room, fooling with a rope. "Соте down-
stairs," he said. “Now.”

into the house

In the kitchen, Billy and Hester were
making coffec—separately, in different
pots. The ensign and the captain entered
id, “Watch him. If he
drinking anything funny, stop

starts
him."
Billy said, “You mean, like Hester's cof-
fee?” But the ensign was gone.
Soon he was back, with Pam and the
councilman. “Its time,” he told them all,
it fooling around and get out of

“But, Kybee,” Billy said, “we can’t.
people know the future, and they say
we'll never leave.”

“Probabilities,” the ensign corrected
him. “The future is not fixed, remember?
There’s still free will. The probabilities
are caused by our narrowing free will.
Things will probably happen in this way or
that way because we are who we are, not
because the stars force us into anything.”

Hester said, “I don't see how that
helps.”

“We have to break out of the probabili-
ties. Somehow or other—I don't see it
clearly yet, but somehow or other—if we
do what we wouldn't do, we'll get out of
here.”

Pam said, “But what wouldn't we do?”

The ensign gave her a jaundiced look.
“I know what you wouldn't do,” he said.
“But I would do it, so that's that. No, we
need something that's so far from the
probabilities that, that. . . 7"

The others watched him. Ensign Ben-
son seemed to be reaching down far inside
himself, willing a solution where there was
none. “Take it easy, Kybee,” Billy said.

Hester said, “Do you want some coffee?
Billy’s coffee.”

Slowly, the ensign exhaled; it had been
some time since he'd breathed. “I know
what we're going to do,” he said.

.

“No!” said the captain. “I won't!”

“That's the point,” Ensign Benson said

Hester said, “There's no way you're
going to get me to do a thi Sd

Billy.

id the councilman.

у!” Ensign Benson said. "Your
dignity is what keeps the probabilities all
lined up in a neat and civilized and pre-
dictable row. It's the only way we're ever
going to get back onto the Hopeful. Think
about it.”

They thought about it. They hated it.
But that, of course, was the whole point,

•

“Hidy, Kybee. The captain feeling
better?”

“Oh, we all adapt, Hank.

“What's that you’re watching?”

“Justa little video I made of the captain
shooting birds. Never saw one of these
machines:

“No, sir, can't say I have.”

"They're casy to operate. Come here,
TI show you."

•

One nice thing about knowing the
future, you never have to worry about a
rain date for your big parade. The sun
shone bright, the bands and the marchers.
were resplendent, and this year, thanks to
the Earthpeople, there would be a perma-
nent record of the whole affair! Hank Саг-
penter, armed with the video camera,
stood atop a wagon right down by the
peace memorial, ready to tape the whole
show.

And a real nice show it was. The South
Side High School band led off, in uniforms
of scarlet and white, and the North Side
High School band, in blue and gold,
brought up the rear. In between were con-
tingents of the Four-H, the Grange, the
police department, bowling leagues, vol-
unteer firemen, a giggle of beauty-contest
winners in a bedecked surrey; oh, all sorts
of interesting things.

Including the crew of the Hopeful.
Naked.

•
ер taping!” Ensign Benson yelled at
Hank Carpenter. “Таре! Tape!” And ће
did, and they all looked at the tape later,
and it was still impossible to believe.

What an array of uncomfortable-looking
people. Whata variety of flesh was here on
display. What an embarrassment all the
way around.

Captain Standforth and Hester ap-
peared first, side by side but determinedly
separate. The captain sort of vaguel
squinted and blinked, pretending to do
ficult math problems in his head,
while Hester marched along like an an-
gry rhinoceros, daring anyone to tell her
she was naked. The captain in the buff
looked more mineral than animal: an an-
gular, gawky armature, a scarecrow that
wouldn't scare a wren, an espalier frame-
work for no known tree. Hester, on the
other hand, merely became more Hester:
chunky, blocky, squared-off.

A rosy astrogator came next: Pam
Stokes blushing from nipple to eyebrow,
accompanied by an ashen legislator.
Councilman Luthguster, shaped ver:
much like the balloons being carried by
some of the younger spectators, appeared.
to have been drained by а vampire before
leaving the house that morning. Upon this
pallid sausage casing, the hobnails of
embarrassed perspiration stood out in
bold relief. Would he faint, or would he
make it to Main Sweet? He suffered from
the loss of his pomposity much more
severely than from the simple loss of his
clothes.

Pam suffered from the loss of clothes.
She was beautiful, but she didn’t want to
be beautiful; she was graceful, but she
didn’t want to be graceful; she was a treat,
but the last thing on Earth—or Figu-
lus—that Pam Stokes wanted to be was a
treat. Her expression was like that some-
times scen in dentists’ offices.

кт апа о Thats the spirit.

a à worth his suit is sure to give as 2000 as he gets this season, and that means the smooth,
all seasons. To send a gift of Cutty Sark anywhere in
Void where prohibited.

е pd earned it.

—

PLAYBOY

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Finally there came Billy and the ensign,
and here the mark of the ensign's determi-
nation really showed itself. Although it
would certainly be embarrassing for him
or for Billy to appear naked in public, it
wouldn’t, in truth, be quite the horror it
clearly was for the others, so for himself
and Billy the ensign had escalated the
attack.

They were dancing.

Arm in arm, the ensign leading, Billy
following pretty well, they turned and
turned in great loops, waltzing to John
Philip Sousa’s The Thunderer—not impos-
sible but not easy.

Nobody stopped them; nobody knew
what to do but stand and gape. For two
blocks past the astounded populace, down
Broadway from Elm past Church w
Main—that being the reach of the video
camera—the captain paced, the chief en-
gineer plodded, the councilman trudged,
the astrogator inadvertently and unwill-
ingly promenaded and the lieutenant
and the ensign waltzed. At Main, sur-
rounded by a populace still immobilized
by disbelief, they broke and ran for it,
around behind the crowd, through back
yards and alleys and away. With many a
hoarse cry and broken gasp, this unlikely
herd thundered all the way home, up the
stoop, across the porch, into the house and
slammed the door.

.
Knock, knock.
“Who's there?”
“Hank Carpenter, Miss Hanshaw. You
folks all right in there?”
“Go away.”

“Its been five days; you can't
just x
“Then wait a minute.”

He went over and sat on

the porch railing and looked out at the
sunny day. The rubbernecks who had
filled this street at first had given up by
now, and everything was back to normal.
But what had it all been about, anyway?

"This was one of those rare moments
when the charts didn't help. If it were.
simple madness, of course, that would ex-
plain a lot, since insanity can play merry
hob with your probabilities, but some-
how Hank didn’t believe lunacy was the
answer.

The front door opened and Ensign
Benson came out, carrying a thin folder.
He shut the door behind himself, gave
Hank a quick, nervous smile, then
frowned out at the street.

“They're all gone,” Hank assured him

“I didn't know it would be quite that
bad," the ensign said. “It does something
to your nervous system to be naked in
front of that many people.” He had a
twitchy look to him and didn’t quite meet
Hank's eye

“What we can’t figure out is why you
did it.”

“So you could let us go, of course,”

Hank smiled in confusion, “You mean,
we'd take pity on you because you lost

your minds?”

“We didn’t lose our minds, just our
clothes. You've got it all on tape, right?"

“I don't know why you'd want such a
thing,” Hank said, “but yes, we do.”

"Look at this," Ensign Benson said,
extending the folder.

Hank took it, opened it, found himself
reading a report to the Galactic Council
about the lost colony known as Figulus.
“Says here, the settlement was aban-
doned. Colonists long dead. Some unan-
ticipated poison in the atmosphere.”

“Not suited for human life,” the ensign
said. “Аз soon as we're aboard ship, that’s
the report we'll send.”

“Why?”

“You're keeping us here because you're
afraid we'll spread the news about you and
a lot of people will show up to learn all
about the future.”

Hank nodded. “Destroying our future in
the process.”

“If anybody did arrive,” the ensign
said, “you'd blame us. You'd probably be
mad enough to show that tape.”

“Im beginning to sec the light,” Hank
said. “You were looking for a way to bust
loose from thc probabilitics."

“That's right. What could we do that we
wouldn't do?”

“Walk down Broadway at high noon,
naked, with a brass band.”

“As long as you have that tape,” En-
sign Benson said, "we'll do anything—
anything—to keep the rest of the human
race away from here.” Wanly he smiled.
“And if this doesn’t worl c said, “if you
still won't let us go, we'll just have to get
more improbable."

“How?” Hank asked, a Би wide-eyed.

“I don't know yet,” the ensign told him.
“I hope I never know. How about you?”

.

Out, out, out across the illimitable void
soared the Hopeful. Its crew, garbed in
every piece of clothing they owned and not
looking one another in the eye, had left
Figulus without even having their charts
done. They knew nothing of the future.

Just as well.

PLAYBOY

CHRISTMAS FANTASY „сео

“Ties are very phallic,’ she said. ‘I suppose beards
are, too, I said. Yours is,’ she said.”

a bus or a lift out of the village, I would
leave this very night.

1 saw tangled strings of Christmas lights
and hanging ribbons. And there were
bunches of holly among the horse brasses
on the beams, one round holly wreath on
the wall and a twist of tuberous mistletoe
drooping over the door. Because these
plants were real and dying, they seemed
funereal rather than festive to me. Now I
saw people: two men in chairs and a
woman on the far side of the horseshoe
shape of the bar. They had not moved
when I entered; I had taken them for
pieces of furniture—it was that kind of
country pub. But why should they notice
me? They must have seen plenty of travel-
ers like me, muddy and sodden from the
Jong-distance path that cut through the
village. 1 was haggard from weeks of tramp-
ing and masked with a beard I had grown
because I was sick of seeing my face in ho-
tel mirrors and wearing ridiculous boots.
And who is a more unpromising compan-
ion than а man bent under a knapsack?

So I was the first to speak, but I had to
wait some minutes for an opportunity.
The bell over the door tinkled as a little
old woman in a loudly crackling plastic
mac entered with a small wet dog.

“A tin of shandy and a packet of cheese-
and-onion-flavored crisps,” she said.

At the sound of the bell, a man had ap-
peared from the rear of the pub. He
grunted and filled the woman’s order, and
Y noticed he handled her money using his
enormous thumbs.

The woman fed the potato crisps to the
dog, talking the whole while—reminding
the animal to watch its manners. And then
she was вопс. That was my opportunity.

“I don’t think I've ever seen а dog do
that."

When I spoke, the two men in the chairs
stood up and left the pub.

“I wonder whether it's hard for him to
swallow them," I said.

“T reckon it's right easy like." This was
the man behind the bar, probably the
publican, a balding, round-cyed fellow in
а sweater that was much too big for him.
He looked at me briefly and said, “I'm
stopping inside for my tea,” and he left.

“They don't like to talk about Mrs.
Pickering," the next voice said. It was the
woman on the far side of the bar. “You've
driven them away."

“I have that effect on some people,” I
said, and when she obliged me by laugh-
ing, I said, “Why don't you join me? It's
much warmer here by the fire.”

То my surprise, she took the other chair
by the hearth and said, "I never know
whether it's all right to sit here. There are

a couple of old boys who always use these
chairs. The fog has probably kept them at
home.”

She had beautiful tecth and bright eyes
and soft hair cut short and a pale, indoor
complexion. Lost in studying her, I gab-
bled without thinking, wanting only to
keep her there by the fire. I had not spoken
with anyone all day. Such long silences
always made me feel invisible, so tall
with that woman, I became real again—
and more, I became hopeful.

“And what is the mystery about Mrs.
Pickering?”

“No mystery. It is well known.” The
woman stared solemnly at me, and I was
sorry I had been so «ігру. “She mur-
dered her fiancé.”

I tried to remember Mrs. Pickering’s
face. | strained and recollected a sad,
shawled figure in small boots. I recalled
the crackling raincoat, the fingerless
woolen gloves; she had no face. But all
that was vague. My distinct memory was
of a wet terrier smacking his jaws and half
choking in his effort to eat the potato
crisps.

“Not everyone is what they seem.”

“She seemed very sweet,” I said.

“I was thinking of her fiancé. He was a
busybody and a terrible bully. Like а lot of
men with sexual problems, he was very
aggressive and violent. The local people
knew what he was like and what she had to
put up with. It was only strangers who
were fooled by him. She killed him one
night—with a billhook. He deserved it.
She was given a suspended sentence—an
incredibly wise decision. But no one likes
to talk about her.” I accepted it and
answered her question, saying I had come
from Whitby.

“By the way, my name is Edward Med-
ford.” The false name slipped out in spite
of my desire to tell her the truth. I almost
laughed at the oddness of it. “Can I get
you a drink?”

“Га love another drink. This is a whis-
key,” she said. “I didn’t have any in the
house—I’m battling a cold.” When I re-
turned with the drink, she was stoking the
fire, tonging lumps of splintery coal from a
scuttle. She thanked me for the drink and
said, “I'm Rachel Haven.”

She might have been 40, she could have
been a bit more, and she seemed subdued.
It was an effort for her to smile—she
breathed in nicely when she did so. She
struck me as independent and fearless,
and solitary if not lonely. I liked her sensi-
ble clothes and heavy boots, her knitted
scarf and thick coat. She seemed sel
reliant and frank. She was not afraid of
те. 1 found her extremely attractive.

We talked about the fog, the crumbling
cliffs, the Crossed Keys and the distance to
Saltburn, where there was а railway
station. Then I said, “What's there to do
around here?”

“l listen to the wireless or play my
gramophone.”

Those old-fashioned words were among
the loneliest 1 had heard on the coast of
Britain.

“And 1 do a great deal of reading.”

1 was too depressed to think of a proper
response. I stroked my beard and saw that
my silence was making her self-conscious

“I suppose it is a very quiet life. But it
suits me." She leaned forward and said,
“What's that insignia on your tie?”

“Royal Geographical Society,” I said
“I wear it when I'm hiking. Helps my
morale.”

1 lifted the little gold emblem with my
thumb, sort of offering it to her.

“Ties are very phallic,” she said.

I let the thing drop, and ! thought,
Ties?

“It's obvious, isn't it?” she said, per-
haps because I had not said anything.

1 straightened up so that my пе
wouldn’t dangle, and I smoothed it
against my shirt.

“I suppose beards are, too," I said.
“Phallic symbols.”

“Yours is,” she said.

It was the first one I had ever grown,
and 1 thought it made me look beaverlike
and fat-faced; but when I heard her make
that extraordinary remark, I felt that I
had succeeded at something I had not
been aware of having attempted. I had
always resisted growing a beard, because 1
felt that a beard brought on a personality
change—it happened to many men. She
clearly approved.

We had another drink, and another, and
went on talking in this way—she was full
of unexpected remarks. The wind in the
chimney disturbed the fire. It had become
a bleak, murky night; no one else entered
the pub.

“What time does this place close?”

“Half-ten,” she said. “But if we left
before then, he'd probably shut up shop.
It’s a filthy night.”

“But where would we go

She had a lovely smile—it was more
than a facial expression; it was a beautiful
thought in her eyes and on her mouth. She
said, “Му cottage isn’t far. We could have
a drink there. You haven't let me buy my
round!”

All the while, I had been wondering
how this might end. I still did not know,
but at least I had a chance. And it was not
as a traveler wanting only to be welcomed
and warmed by a tumble in her four-
poster but something more—I liked her,
and 1 was grateful to her for taking charge
of me.

"The landlord was not at the bar to sce us
leave; I was glad. I felt somewhat furtive
and sheepish, as if 1 were sneaking away
with Rachel Haven. 1 was also ashamed of

“Sure, I’ve read articles that say coke makes you talk too much and makes

it hard to get it on. But I think that's all bullshit. I mean, what do
the people who write these articles know? Nothing, right? Hey, Гое done it
for years and I know. Did I ever tell you about the time I was in Mazatlan . . . ?

2"

227

PLAYBOY

228

this furtive feeling.

“That's a parasite,” she said as we
passed under the mistletoc,

She led me out to the narrow road,
where the fog was swirling and drizzling in
the dimmed Christmas lights of the pub
windows, and then she turned into one of
those country lanes that are like deep
trenches. Although it was dark, Rachel did
not hesitate, and I followed the sound of
her footsteps grinding the damp pebbles in
the lane. We had left the hamlet of hidden
cottages and were headed for the cliffs. I
could hear the waves dumping and sliding
in the deep hollows below.

“It’s not much farther,” she said. At
once her footsteps went silent as she
started down a muddy path. Some min-
utes later, she said, “There it is.”

Lights burned in three or four pretty
windows, and although they were blurred
by sea mist, they helped me pick out the
contour of this cottage, the low, slanting
roof and the bulging walls. 1 could hear
the sea clearly now; it was just beneath us,
roaring softly.

It seemed a remote and solitary place,
and I think I would have been frightened
to be alone there. But all its desolate char-
acteristics made it an excitement and a
pleasure to be there with Rachel Haven. I
was about to enter this stranger's life. It is
a traveler’s thrill: to delve and then move
-like passing through a pool of light.
always leave the lights on,” Rachel

on:

said as she opened the front door. “I hate
to come back to a dark house."

Inside the cottage, any sense of mystery
vanished. It was a tidy place, penetrated
with the odors of good bread and healthy
cats and green plants. Its warmth height-
ened these odors and made them fragrant,
and the warmth itself was a reassurance. It
was rather shadowy—only the lamps near
the windows were burning—but Í could
sec the pots of ivy and the fruit basket on
the scrubbed pine table, the cat asleep on
the sofa near the fireplace, and 1 could
hear a clock's hurrying tick. Along one
wall were bookshelves, and there were
some pictures on another wall. But these
were striped with shadows. I did not want
more light than this; I liked the fire and
the dim lamps and the plump sofa.

“Гуе been making a jumper,” Rachel
said, holding up a sweater. I suppose she
thought I had been wondering about the
knitting paraphernalia that lay on a
ladder-back chair. “I had hoped to finish
it by Christmas, but there’s not much
chance of that—Christmas is Saturday.”

“Is it for someone special—thc
jumper?”

“Yes,” she said, and looked very serious
and intense. “Someone in Africa. I’m sort
of a godmother to a little girl in Lesotho.
Actually, she’s quite a big girl now. I send
a lot of knitted things to her. It can get
very cold in Africa.”

She handed me a glass of white wine

and we toasted each other merry Christ-
mas. I sat down on the sofa and made
room for her, but she chose to sit before
the fire. The cat went to her, and she gath-
ered it into her lap and stroked it

ће calls me Mummy,” Rachel said,
and smiled, but not at me. "She's a fifth-
former.”

We went on talking—about the work on
missions in Africa, about the Yorkshire
weather, about the pleasures of radio pro-
grams and the taste of herbal tea; but all I
thought about was how badly I wanted to
make love to her. I could begin by getting
down beside her on the carpet in front of
the fire. 1 did not want to make it obvious
As we talked and as she refilled my glass, 1
grew steadily more dreamy with desire.
Time passed; I was attentive, awaiting my
chance.

She said, “I think this silly cat has been
їп а fight. He’s got a torn ear.”

“Let’s sec,” I said, and scrambled next
to her.

The torn car occupied us for a while,
and the fire warmed my face and I was
sleepy with wine. At last, sensing that I
was falling, 1 put my arm around her, then
squeezed her shoulder and leancd to kiss
her.

She arched her back and stiffened as if I
had driven a spike into her.

“What are you doing?” she said with a
quict coldness.

I did not know what to say.

"Do you think I'm just going to tumble
into bed with you?”

She said it with such a sneer that I was
on my feet before she had finished speak-
ing. She had made me ashamed of myself.
1 backed away, stumbling slightly—it was
like being thrown out of bed. 1 said, no, it
was the farthest thing from my mind and,
my, look at the time!

“I have to go,” I said. "Where's my
pack?” And she switched on another light.
I was at the door, wanting to run. The
overbright light made the cottage seem
less friendly and rather року. Now I could
see the books on the shelves. I was slinging
napsack and studying the shelves
and, with nothing at all to lose—1 had
already touched bottom—I spoke the
malicious thought that was in my mind.

“Have you read him?" I said. I was at
the door, waiting for her parting words.

“Paul Theroux?” she said, and bright-
ened: The good thought was on her face
“Oh, yes, I love him. He's smashing.”

I hesitated at the door of the cottage,
then smiled at Rachel Haven and took
hold of my beard. She did not have the
slightest idea who I was. She had rebufled
the man she knew as Edward Medford,
but “Paul Theroux? Oh, yes, he’s smash-
ing" I wanted to laugh. I certainly
wanted to stay longer.

Rachel said, “You don’t have to rush off
like this.”

The words were hospitable, but they were

face savers; her tone insisted that I leave
soon

She said, “I think I've offended you.”

“Not at all!” I said—much too heartily,
because I meant it. I had thought of teas-
ing her a little and then saying, “Guess
who I really am!”

“I mean offended your masculine
" she said

With a difficulty I hoped was not visible
to her, I suppressed my reply to this.

“I think you misunderstood me,”
said

A lovely woman's invitation to a perfect
stranger to walk to her isolated cottage on
the longest night of the year to split a bot-
tle of wine: That seemed a wholly unam-
biguous offer to me. Or had I jumped to
conclusions? All the while, she might have
thought she was being kind to a lonely
traveler. And yet, in this country, “Do you
want a drink?” had nothing to do with
thirst. Didn't she know that?

“But stay a little while longer,” she said
“We might as well have the other half.”

In fact, I had jumped up so quickly that
1 had left my glass with wine still in it. As
she handed it to me, I dropped my knap
sack to let her know I planned to linger.

“T think you had the wrong idea about
me,” she said. “It’s strange when one lives
alone. One is unaware of giving off a lot of
contradictory signals. They think I'm a bit
mad in the village. I know they talk about
me behind my back: ‘What does she do up

she

there all alone?”

“What do you do?”

“I have my wireless and my gramo-
phone,” she said. That sad old refrain.
“And my books,” she said, and gestured
at the shelves, where perhaps 1000 paper-
backs were tightly fitted.

Following the bookshelves took her back
to the fireplace. I stayed where I was, near
the books I had written

She put a few small pieces of coal onto
the fire and pushed the fire with the tongs
It was a frugal impulse, and I understood
from it that she wanted the fire to die
and— specifically—for me to take the hint
and go. She did not want to throw me out,
butshe was trying to make me understand
that her friendliness was formal—the
same sort of philanthropy that motivated
her to send woolly jumpers to Africa. She
had been kind in a tentative way; all the
presumption had been mine; she deserved
to know I had lied to her about who 1
was.

1 would have told her, except that 1 had
the strong feeling that she did not think
Edward Medford was a very nice person
It was more than that business about my
masculine pride—it was that she did not
like me much, didn’t like my appearance. I
had simply landed up here; I wasn't jolly,
as hikers often are; I had to be told that
Africa could be cold; I was a bit of an oaf.
All this prevented me from blurting out
my name. And then, thinking about it, I

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229

PLAYBOY

was glad I had given her a false name—
especially а ridiculous one like Edward
Medford.

I said, “You didn't really have to ask me
for a drink.”

“You looked a bit lost,” she said. “And
it's almost Christmas."

“So I'm your Christmas act of charity,”
I said. “Your good deed.”

“You sound cross.”

It was unreasonable of me, perhaps, but
I felt she was being patronizing. I was still
stung by the rebuff, by her exaggerated
words “Do you think I'm just going to
tumble into bed with vou?" But more than
that, she made me feel I was just another
muddy hiker who had stumbled into
Blackby Hole.

“Pm not cross. 1 appreciate your taking
me in"—and when I saw the effect this
had on her, I added, “but don't worry, I
won't stay long." When she didn't react, I
said, “Frankly, I thought you wanted a lit-
tle company.”

“You thought I was lonely,” she said,
and she laughed gently. “That's actually
quite funny.”

“Don't you ever get lonely?”

“I don't have time! I’m desperately
busy.” And her one-word shout was like
an explanation: “Christmas!”

“Have you ever been married?”

.” she said, interrupting me.
[о you
“Questions,” she said, and then looked

away. “I had a fiancé once. He died.”

1 said nothing—allowed a moment of
silence out of respect for this man's
memory.

“A few years ago, | was seeing some-
one."

She hesitated. I thought, Seeing means
everything.

“But he went away."

The words were sad, but she was fairly
bright—there was no remorse or self-pity
in her tone, only a wistful echo. That was
what I had first found attractive in her—
her spirit, her sense of freedom—and I
had thought she had chosen me. I knew
better now. She wanted only chat. So I
chatted.

“You must read a great deal.”

“You find that stran " she said.

That ated me. 1 not find it
strange at all. I was glad. But she was
boasting.

“It’s not only you—a lot of people find
it strange. They wonder what I sec in an
author of a book, But I can't describe the
experience. It is magnificent—entirely
imaginative." She smiled at me from a tre-
mendous height. “Look at it this way. It is
my version of hi New paths, new
scenes, new people. It’s like fresh air to
me."

Tt was in the raw, simple tones of a hiker
that I asked her, “Would you recommend
any of these books to me?”

“All of them,” she said. “I keep only the

“I am the Spirit of Brand Name
Loyalty Past. Brand Name Loyalty Present
25 waning, and I understand there will probably be
almost no Brand Name Loyalty Future.”

books I intend to reread. The rest I give
away.” She added, “I love reading about
distant places.”

“What—this stuf?” I said, and let my
fingers hesitate on The Mosquito Coast, The
Great Railway Bazaar and the rest of them
standing under the authors name,
between Thackeray and Thomas.

“Anything that feeds my fantasies,” she
said.

“Pd love to know your fanta

"They're to do with travel този
dream of sunny countries and blue skies.
Steinbeck—the wonderful towns ће writes
about. Monterey, California. Fresno:
such a lovely word. Fruit growing. Just the
words citrus groves make me sigh. I think
of the sun on the rows of pretty trees and
heating the roads and the rooftops. 1 see
the bright houses and the little patches of
shade under the green trees and the vines.
I dream of Mexico, toc. Very hot and
dry—the desert is sort of odorless, you
know. Nothing decays—everything with-
ers beautifully, like pressed flowers. 1
dream of small towns in endless sum-
mer

She was deseribing the opposite of
Blackby Hole, where the rising wind of
December pushed at the windowpanes
and howled under the eaves and the sea
spilled its cold surf down below on the
hard shelf of beach.

Rachel Haven was still talking—now

about small, hot towns in middle America:
fresh air, good food, friendly folk and sun-
shine. She also saw herself in the African
sun and in a bungalow in Malaysia and
taking a stroll in China. They were simple
visions and strange because they were not
at all extravagant. They were not expen-
sive or luxurious—no five-star hotels or
native bearers.
We're on a picnic,” she was saying,
“sitting on very green grass on a riverbank
in the sun. We have food—I’ve made
sandwiches—and everyone is drowsing,
and someone says, “Let's do this again
tomorrow!” ”

And then I saw it, too. We were
together, Rachel Haven and 1, in Califor-
nia or Mexico, packing a picnic basket and
setting off under a blue sky. I had an
intense sight of it, which was the more pas-
sionate for its simplicity. It was possible
and, more than that, it was easy. She did
not know how attainable it was. I had so
often bought tickets and visited such
places; but 1 had been alone and restless,
and I had left thinking, Someday I will
come back with someone and be happy.

Rachel Haven had risen from the sofa. I
smiled at her and prepared myself to say
everything.

Her own smile was an effort. She said,
“Hiking boots!”

We both looked at my feet.

She said, “Those little treads pick up
mud and carry it indoors and drop it.
Look: >

I was standing on a green square of car-
pet. There were small pellets of mud, like

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PLAYBOY

bonbons, all around my boots.

“I'm terribly sorry,” I said, and raised
one boot, looking for a footing. “What a
mess.”

“Please don't move,” she said. “You're
making it worse.”

“Shall I take these things off?”

“1 don't know,” she said. She was exas-
perated and upset, and there was a squint
of pain in her eyes as she looked down. “1
wove that carpet myself—on а hand loom.
I did a weaving course in York. It took me
ever such a long time. You can’t see the
pattern very clearly, but I've based it
on a Kashmiri design. It’s vines and
lotuses——"

“Muddy lotuses.””

“Pm afraid so, yes.”

Her voice was flat and disappointed.
She wanted me to go through that door
and keep going. She had not asked where I
was planning to stay. I had no place to
stay! I suspected that she wanted me to
know that I was no longer welcome. I had
drunk all her wine and asked too many
questions and tracked mud onto her hand-
made carpets. People who live successfully
alone live with elaborate rules. I had bro-
ken several of hers. She wanted me out.
Worse, she wished she had never seen me.

And it was because of this that I knelt
and untied one muddy boot and then the
other and stepped out of them and walked
across the room reflectively—making her
wait—and then back to the bookshelves
and said, “But what do you really think of
him?”

“Dylan Thomas?”

“No.” I could not utter my own name to
her. 1 feared it might give me a sudden
brain storm and that everything would
come out. I tried to be casual; I wagged
my fingers. “Him.”

“Paul Theroux,” she said.

I clutched my beard merely to make my
head move in a noncommittal way.

“Гуе read practically everything he’s
written that’s in paperback. The novels,
the short stories, the travel books. The
Great Railway Bazaar was the one that
started me off. That's travel, but it’s not an
ordinary travel book. It’s mostly him, so
you feel at the end of it that you know him
pretty well. He's wonderful on people. The
men he writes about are very vivid—
funny, too—but most of his women are
pretty awful. Those stockings of yours
must be wet through. You're leaving foot-
prints on my floor.”

It was a stone floor; my feet were so
cold, my toes were tumed up like Turkish
slippers. She had not asked whether I was
comfortable or invited me to sit down. She
was too absorbed talking about this
smashing writer, who was so wonderful on
people.

“They'll be there tomorrow,” she said,
looking down at my footprints on the flag-
stone floor. And she smiled—it was not
disappointment this time but disgust. “I

hate feet.” She was squinting at mine.
“The Japanese are right. There's some-
thing really sickening about them.”

Her words were about feet in general,
but her manner indicated that she was
talking specifically about my feet.

It was a winter night near Christmas;
the fog and the sea mist lay thick against
the coast; I was a stranger. If she had
warmed to me, welcomed me or showed
any concern, I am sure I would have been
very direct. I would have told her my
name, and then I would have left. If she
had been hostile, I would have done the
same, but for another reason. But she was
indifferent to me. And because I was cer-
tain that I wasn’t going to tell her my
name—it would have been embarrassing
otherwise—I asked her about this writer.
What was he like?

“He's very hunky, very sexy, I bet.”

“You're mocking me,” she said coldly.

I was—out of nervousness, out of panic.
And I was mocking myself. I wanted badly
to interrupt her,

“I think of him as tall and rather shy.
Very gentle and"—she smiled and looked
away—“very funny. Not a joke teller but
sort of endlessly amusing in a dry sort of
way. And a little frustrated." She was not
looking at me but, rather, was studying the
man’s books, the row of them on the third
shelf. She said, “Га like to meet him.”

I had hold of my beard again. I said,
“Sure, but what then?”

With defiance she said, “I think we’d
have a smashing time. I think I could
make him very happy.”

Then she glanced at my feet—my wet
socks—and looked at me with pure
hatred. Her eyes were large and deep
brown, and because they were turned
against me, they were cold and beautiful
and very fierce. They said, “Go.”

I wanted to go. I walked again to
the door. Rachel stepped out of my way.
She moved slowly; she was thinking.
She began speaking, as if continuing a
thought that had begun in her head.

“But, of course, Ill never meet him. I'll
never go to California or see Africa. |
won't go to medical school. I'll never learn
to play tennis or ride a horse. Bridge will
go on being a mystery to me. The queen
won't come to my wedding, and even if 1
do marry, ГИ never have children. I won't
get an award at the woman-of-the-year
lunch. ТИ never have a computer or a
motorbike or a Rolls-Royce. I doubt that
I'll ever learn to speak another language. |
won't discover or explore anything. Noth-
ing will be named after me.”

Now she glanced up at me. I had my
shoes on. I could not have told her my
name now for anything. She sounded sad.
It seemed to me now that it would only
make her sadder if I told her who I really
was. Perhaps I could have once, but it was
too late now; and 1 was very sorry,
because she did not like me much and I

still found her attractive.

“On the other hand, nothing bad will
ever happen to me,” she said. "No
disasters. TII just live. I'm quite happy,
actually”

“You've been very kind to me.”

“No,” she said, and laughed carelessly.
“Гуе disappointed you.” And she handed
me my knapsack. “But you know nothing
atall about me." There was an unpleasant
thought on her face as she turned away

I wanted to tell her my name then; but,
of course, after all that time, would she
have believed me? If she had, the truth
would have looked like mockery.

“You'd better go." She spoke it like a
warning.

Into the darkness: The sea fog blinded
and soaked me. I crept slowly down the
soft, sinking path, and loud waves broke
near me under the cliff. I was not able to
draw an easy breath until I was back in
the dim lamplight and the homely stink of
coal smoke in the road at Blackby Hole.

•

The Crossed Keys was shut, but I raised
the landlord by rapping. Yes, he said, he
had a room—five pounds—and he prom-
ised me a good breakfast. I apologized for
arriving at such a late hour

“We're used to it, being on the coastal
” he said, leading me up the narrow
. “All sorts of hikers come through.”
And by then we were under the light in the
upstairs hallway. He looked at my face
very closely.

“I know you,” he said in a puzzled
voice.

Was he, too, a reader?

“I was here earlier, having a drink.”

“Yes,” he said. But he did not smile.
“When that woman was in the bar. Gives
me the creeps, she does. That queer опе.”

Everything you say about her is gossip,
Rachel had said of Mrs. Pickering. But the
landlord was still frowning at me.

“That killed her lover,” ће said.

“Mrs. Pickering,” I said.

“Mrs. Pickering never hurt a soul! No, I
mean that brute Rachel Haven. Ah, you're
a stranger—you wouldn’t know. Rachel
killed her fiancé. This was years ago. She
was declared mental, and she got off.
She claimed the bloke was a beast and
she used a billhook on him while the bal-
ance of her mind was disturbed.”

I tried to interrupt him, yet I had no
question—I merely wanted to stop him
from talking, because I was afraid to hear
any more.

“But there was another lover. No one
knew the bloke. He disappeared. No one
missed him." The landlord nodded slowly
and let this sink in. “She’s never hurt
me—she don't like me—but she's death
оп men she loves.”

And then, in his friendly northern way,
out of the side of his mouth, he urged me to

sleep well. а

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PLAYBOY

234

BROOKE SHIELDS (continued from page 128)

“Brooke struck a demure pose. ‘Haven't you heard?’

she said. Tm America's Dream Date.

ээ»

down the chute and began to fill.

Norman smiled enthusi: at
Brooke. “Tell the truth,” he said. “They
were great pictures, weren't they?”

.

The terrace doors of the hotel suite
looked out on a bright-blue Sunday-
morning sky. Nothing moved on the quiet
Beverly Hills street.

Brooke came down a stairway that rose
from the middle of the room. She was
wearing jeans, loafers and a short-sleeved
white-cotton shirt. The sound of her moth-
er's voice followed her.

“What?” Brooke said.

Teri came down the stairs, maneuvering
a piece of hand luggage in front of her. “I
said, "Where's the hair drier?”

“In my bag," Brooke said. She picked
up the morning paper and began to flip.
through it. “I called downstairs. They're
sending someone up.”

Teri sorted through the remains of a box
of chocolates lying on a glass coffee table.
She came up with a large piece wrapped in
gold foil.

“Chocolate, Mother
with a narrow-eyed stare.
fast?"

"This is breakfast," Teri said, popping
the candy into her mouth.

A giant wicker basket was perched
prominently on a velvet love seat near the
terrace doors, Jt was filled with an as-
sortment of soaps, perfumes, bath oils and
herbal teas, all in paisley-print boxes,
packed down in green-plastic grass

"Wasn't it sweet of Michael to send
this?" Brooke said, admiring it.
"Adorable," Teri said. She sat down at
a writing desk and took some hotel station-
ery from the drawer.

“T have to write a letter to that middle-
aged Romeo you ran into the other night,”
she said.

“Don't blame me; I don't know who he
” Brooke said. “It was late. He acted
we'd been introduced before.”

“Well, I'm going to write him and tell
him that, unfortunately, you can’t sail
away on his yacht to Tahiti. That you have
to go back to school.”

“He's probably married, anyway. All
the cute ones are married.”

“When I sign the letter,” Teri said,
scribbling the note, “I think hell get the
picture.”

“Tell him I have a history q Brooke
said. She looked at her watch. “Do you
think it’s too early to call Michael?”

“He won't mind.”

Brooke went to the telephone and
punched out some numbers. The phone at
the other end was answered right away.

Brooke said,
“Before break-

is,

“Hi, sleepyhead,” she said. “It's me.”

She listened for a moment, then giggled.
“Yeah, it's earl uh?"

She paused. “I have to leave soon. Гуе
ког to do some stuff, then fly back."

She moved over to the terrace, holding
the phone, and looked outside. “So how
was the show last night?"

As she listened, she gazed out over the
rooftops of elegant houses that were as col-
orful and as lifeless as a David Hockney
painting.

She laughed. “That sounds great. Lis-
ten, call me tonight. I'll be home around
eleven."

She listened for a few more seconds,
then said, ^No, you can call me late; it's
OK. If I say it’s OK, 105 OK.”

She smiled. “OK, go back to sleep. And
thanks for the basket. I love it.”

She put the phone down and turned to
her mother. “He's so sweet," she said.

“He's adorable," Teri said. She stood
up, sealing the letter in an envelope. She
held it up. “This should cool Romeo
off. Really, Brooke. How do these things
happer

Brooke struck a demure розе.

"Haven't you heard?" she said. “I’m
America’s Dream Date.”

•

“They call me Pop,” the man said. Не
wore a green-alpaca sweater and bright-
plaid trousers. He spoke with a squint.
"I'm so glad vou good folks could come."

He led Brooke and Teri toward a group
of low-lying buildings bordered by flat,
tired lawns. A few lonely-looking palm
trees stood around in the blazing sunlight
like strangers at a funeral.

“We're having a real big turnout,” Pop.
said. “Lots of stars.” He pointed to the
hospital drivew lined with limousines.

“Lots of soap-opera stars, is what they
tell me. I don't watch "em, so I don't
know.” He winked at Brooke. “I know
who this little lady is, though, Guess
everybody does.”

Brooke looked at the man from behind
her Vuarnet sunglasses and smiled.

“You folks visiting out this way?”

“We were here for the Bob Hope Christ-
mas show,” Teri said,

“T bet he's full of the dickens,” Pop said.
He pulled open the door of one of the
buildings and they stepped into a cool,
dimly lit entryway.

Beyond that was a wide green corridor
that looked like the Bombay airport on a
bad day. People were jammed in every-
where, jostling one another and shouting
back and forth. Hospital personnel were
trying without success to bring order.

"Everybody's buzzing to see Brooke,”

Pop said as they moved through the crowd
to the ward. “She's the big attraction.”

There were many TV actors carrying
autographed pictures of themselves, and
starlets who looked like they'd just arrived
from Malibu. The star of Knight Rider was
there, dressed from head to toe in black
Knight Rider gear, being trailed by a man
pushing a hospital gurney piled high with
Knight Rider toys

All the patients in the ward were chil-
dren. Many of them were attached by
wires and tubes to life-support systems.
Some were held in place by metal braces.

Families were clustered around each
bed. The ward was strung with Christmas
cards and holiday decorations, and a
Christmas tree stood in one corner, its tiny
colored lights blinking on and off like а sig-
nal for help.

Pop spoke to a henna-haired woman
with a clip board, who then moved into
the ward with purpose.

“Attention, please!” the woman said.
"Dm happy to tell you that Brooke Shields
15 here! But everybody must settle down!"
A local anchor woman came bustling up
with her camera crew. “Get shots of this!"
she said, waving at Brooke. “And get shots
of the toys!”

The camera crew pushed forward
aggressively as Brooke walked into the
ward, and they followed her with quartz
lights and a boom microphone as she vis-
нед cach patient.

At the end of the room, there was a
Mexican boy of about 15, a plastic respira-
tor tube taped to his nose. His head rolled
to one side. There were at least a dozen
relatives around his bed.

When he saw Brooke, the Mexican boy
beamed with joy. Then, abruptly, he burst
into tears. He shook his head from side to
side.

He's so happy,” his mother said to
Brooke. “He can't believe he sees you.”

The tears rolled down the boy’s cheeks.
His face was torn with pain as he tried to
speak. The respirator at his bedside made
sucking and hissing noises.

Brooke bent over, touched his forehead
and whispered to him. His mother took a
Kodak dise camera from the night stand
and snapped their picture.

When they were in the corridor again,
"Teri said, “Where to now?”

“Well, let's see," Pop s; “We're head-
over to the cafeteria for lunch.”

But we just got here,” Teri said. “We
don’t want to eat lunch. We want to visit
as many people as possible.”

The henna-haired woman stepped up.
“Twelve-oh-five is the scheduled lunch
meeting,” she said crisply. She regarded
her clip board. “The yellow group, the
green group and the blue group all meet.
Which group do you belong to?”

“No group.” Teri sa e motioned
farther down the hallway. “Are there some
people down this wa

“We have activ
woman with the henna hair said.

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PLAYBOY

236

have more media coverage. The Sunday
show will be here.”
“We have to be on a planc in a little
while,” Teri said. “Come on, Brooke."
They turned into a wing of the building
that was suddenly empty. They came to a

room that had several beds, only one of

them occupied. An old woman lay in it,
very still, her head resting on two large
pillows. On the other side of the room, а
ceiling-mounted television set was show-
ing a football game.

The old woman turned to face Brooke
and Teri as if she'd been expecting them.

“How nice.” she said in a soft voice.
“How very nice.”

“I came to wish you а merry Christ-
mas,” Brooke said as she and her mother
moved close.

“Гус seen you so many times," the old
“Оп the television. You're a

very lovely girl.”

“Why, thank you,” Brooke said.

The old woman looked off for a moment,
lost in thought. The swishing sound of a
Rain Bird came through an open window.
On the television, a player spiked the ball
in the end zone and did a little dance.

А u the mother?" the woman

“Yes, Teri said. “I'm the mother.”

“You must be very proud. Such a beau-
tiful daughter. Such a lovely girl.”

Teri grinned at the woman. “She's OK,
I guess. For a kid."

"The woman reached her hand out and
Brooke took hold of it. Her skin was so
pale. it was almost translucent.

1 saw you on television. You were in a
circus tent. Мегу Gri was there.”

“That was Circus of the Stars,” Brooke
said.

The woman raised herself up off the pil-
low. She pulled Brooke down close. “You
hurt yourself,” she whispered.

“Oh, no,” Brooke said. She held on to
the woman's hand very gently. “No, it
wasn't anything at all.”

The woman smiled and floated back
ошо the pillow. Her head made hardly
any impression there at all

“I'm so glad to hear,” she said. “1 was
worried about you.”

.

"Look what's in here,” Brooke said, the
large wicker gift basket resting on her lap.

She and Teri sat on metal chairs in a
bare room with a picture window facing
the airport tarmac. Sunlight poured
through the window and fell in swirling
shafts across the floor

“Bubbles,” she said, holding up a plas-
tic bottle of pink solution.

A pretty blonde girl, wearing a tuxedo
shirt like a blackjack dealer, leaned into
the room, “You can board in a few m
utes. The TV people are almost finished
setting up their equipmen

Brooke unscrewed the cap of the bottle
and took out the wand. She tried to blow a
bubble, but nothing came out.

“Here, let me,” Teri said. She took the
bottle and the wand and blew a fat bubble
that wiggled off the end of the stick and
bounced onto the floor.

"How's that?" Teri sai
ig deal," Brooke said. “You have
more hot air than I do.”

“It got you where you are today,
kiddo.”

А young man walked briskly into the
room. He was wearing chino pants, a thin-
striped shirt and Top-Siders, with no
socks. He looked as happy f he'd just
hit the lottery.

“This is great, letting us do the inter-
view on the plane,” the man said. "That's
some deluxe setup in there. Separate com-
partments, sterling silver—like the Orient
ress. I guess you have to be able to
write it off, huh?”

The young man beamed and clapped
his hands together. Teri sent a little school
of bubbles skittering out into the air.

“I heard vou just came from a hospi-
tal,” the young man said. "Was that a
bummer?”

“No,” Teri said. “Not really.”
“Well, this won't take long," he said.
“We just have a few questi

Brooke nodded and took the pink-
plastic bottle back from her mother. The
young man rocked back on his heels and
smiled pleasantly

‘Just stupid questions,” he said.

Brooke held the wand up to her lips and
blew a large, perfect bubble. It sailed
silently across the room, toward the win-
dow, and disappeared in the sunlight like
a ghost.

“1 know,” she said.

KNOCK
THE STUFFINGS
PINA COLADA.

PLAYBOY

DRUG ENFORCEMENT (continued from page 108)

“The fact is, drug traffic cannot be stopped in an
open democracy. But the war goes on.”

14th amendments. For example, the war
оп drugs has made it possible for a рег-
son’s own attorney to be called as a wit-
ness against him. The attorney can be
given immunity and forced to testify under
threat of jail. (This is not merely a possi-
bility: One such case, U.S. us. William
Thomas Sheehan, is pending right now in
the Eastern District of California.)

When Reagan put the Vice-President in
charge «Га domestic law-enforcement mat-
ter, some observers believe, he exceeded
the powers given to the President by the
Constitution. Charles F. Rinkevich, for-
mer coordinator of Reagan’s South Flor-
ida Task Force, was put in the
embarrassing position of having to remind
Congressman Glenn English in his own
1983 subcommittee hearing that the “Con-
stitution of the United States and laws
passed by Congress place in the Attorney
General of the United States responsibility
to serve as the chief law-enforcement offi-
cer in the country. I think it is in some
ways inappropriate, on a long-term basis
in our system of Government, for the Vice-
President to exercise that kind of соп-
tinuing law-enforcement responsibility.”

* We are losing the struggle to control
international drug traffic: Even if the end
did justify the means, we are not achieving
the stated goal of reducing drug use. While
20 percent of the people now in prison are
there for drug-trafficking offenses, while
over the past 15 years in the U.S. one per-
son every two minutes has been arrested
for marijuana possession or sale, drug use
and availability are greater than ever.

The entire effort is in vain. In the carly
months of 1984, police captured some of
the largest hauls of heroin in the history of
Hong Kong, the banking center for world
narcotics traffic. The only noticeable effect
was a 72-hour shortage of heroin. Simi-
larly, there have been numerous opera-
tions by joint U.S. forces, including the
Coast Guard, Customs, the DEA and the
military, aimed at halting drug traffic in
the Caribbean. Congressional Report said
that such operations “have resulted in
increased drug seizures and improved
coordination. However, they are costly
and may have only limited long-term
impact.”

The fact is, drug traffic cannot be
stopped in an open democracy. But the
war gocs on.

•

Reagan, following Nixon’s example, has
employed a two-pronged strategy: (1)
Stop the cultivation of marijuana, coca
bushes (which produce cocaine) and
opium poppies (which produce heroin);
(2) interdict or seize the drugs as they are

transported out of the country of origin or
into the United States. But a systematic
analysis of each of these tactics shows why
they were not successful for Nixon and
cannot be any more so for Reagan.

Let's consider attempts to stop cultiva-
tion. The U.S. State Department works
with foreign governments to help them re-
duce their production of drugs. There are
two steps to this process: First, kill the
offending plants and, second, substitute
some other crop (such as potatoes in
Bolivia) that will produce income for the
peasant growers. In fiscal 1984, the State
Department dedicated $50,200,000 to
international narcotics control. Neverthe-
less, marijuana, cocaine and opium crops
are breaking records. Why? To start with,
not even the most ruthless potato trafficker
can hope to make anything approaching
$20,000,000 a month.

The State Department claims to have
reduced Mexican heroin imports from six
and a half metric tons in 1975 to one and a
half metric tons in 1980. If that was true
then, it certainly isn’t anymore: The DEA
estimates that Mexico produced 17 metric
tons of heroin in 1983. Mexican heroin
production is on the rise.

Acrial defoliation missions in Mexico
destroyed 6422 acres of marijuana in 1983.
But in November of that year, Mexican
police raided a 700-acre plantation in
northern Mexico and discovered 10,000
tons of pot. What may sound like a victory
for law enforcement was actually a set-
back, because until then, no one had
believed there was that much marijuana in
all Mexico. In fact, the most grass ever
seized in any one place prior to that had
been 570 tons taken in Colombia in 1978.
The State Department called it "stagger-
ing.” The DEA’s National Narcotics Intel-
ligence Committee had estimated that
Americans smoked—i total—about
14,000 metric tons of marijuana annually.
Suddenly, authorities were faced with the
specter of incomprehensible amounts of
drugs sweeping the globe, not only out of
their control but utterly undetected. In
fact, that one bust threw all Government
figures into question; and even now, the
means of estimating drug production and
use are being reconsidered.

Reagan’s advisor, Dr. Turner, dis-
agrees. When 1 visited him at his White
House office and mentioned the 10,000-ton
ure to him, he responded angrily.
That's bullshit!” he shouted. “It was not
10,000 metric tons. You go talk to the
DEA, you go talk to State, and you ask
them what was the magnitude of that, and
I think they'll all tell you it was anywhere
around 1200 to 1900 metric tons. They

know it was not 10,000 metric tons; but,
you see, the Federal Government and the
other governments of the world are captive
to the word ten.”

Turner’s theories about numerology аге
not as difficult to swallow as his facts and
figures. Speaking in a sharp Southern
voice, he can reel out sentences nine feet
long, studded with what sound like
authentic statistics. He says it would take
44,000 acres to grow 10,000 tons of mari-
juana. The DEA estimates 20,000 acres.
Congressional staffers working on the mili-
tary effort to stop drug traffic confide that
“Carleton is not really qualified to talk
about these matters. He's a chemist.”

Yet Turner persists: “All my surveys
show that cocaine consumption in the
U.S. is leveling and begii g to come
down.” Everyone else’s surveys, including
that of a House Select Committee, say it’s
going up.

“The American public has recaptured
the spirit of democracy,” says Turner. “I
think we have the pieces of the puzzle in
place that are very effective,” he says of the
over-all drug effort.

On that point, Turner has some sup-
porters. Congressman Clay Shaw of Florida,
for example, says, “There is no way any-
body can say that we are now losing the
battle. We have got them on the run. .
We have the ear of the White House.
We do have a program that is working.”

On the other hand, the year Reagan
took oflice, 25 tons of cocaine entered the
U.S. At the beginning of his second term,
more than 85 tons a year were coming in.
In its 1984 report, the Congressional
Select Committee on Narcotics Abuse and
Control referred to “our failure in bringing
under control illicit production and traffic
of narcotics.” And Vice-President Bush’s
chief of staff, Admiral Daniel J. Murphy,
told The New York Times, “1 don't see
where we are winning the war on
cocaine.”

The truth, Government agents fear, is
that far more people are using far more
drugs in far greater quantities than anyone
ever dreamed possible. Some experts
believe that the illegal drug trade is so
large that it contributes significantly to the
trade deficit; most agree that it is well in
excess of 100 billion dollars annually and
rising, perhaps by as much as ten billion
dollars a year.

The sheer quantity of drugs is only one
of a galaxy of problems confronting those
who would control drugs at the source. An
Assistant Secretary of State listed a few of
the other obstacles:

* Frequent changes in the governments
of other countries.

* Populations that are heavily depend-
ent upon cultivation and trafficking Гог
their income.

* An indiflerence to U.S. interests.

* The belief that drug abuse is a U.S.
problem, created by U.S. demand.

* Requirements that we virtually recon-
struct much of the countries’ economies in

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exchange for enforcement cooperation.
= Widespread official corruption in

grower countries, including government

involvement in the narcotics trade.

Yet even if the US. were completely
successful in getting Colombia and Mexico
to stop producing all drugs—and most au-
thorities agree that even that modest goal
is impossible—it would do nothing to
reduce production in Peru, Bolivia,
Venezuela, Paraguay, Guyana, Surinam,
Costa Rica, Panama, Honduras, Guate-
mala, Nicaragua and the more than 1000
islands and several thousand cays of the
Caribbean.

And then there are countries we know
nothing about. For years, Ecuador, for
example, was thought to produce no
significant quantities of drugs; now, sud-
denly, Ecuador has emerged as the world's
third-largest cocaine-producing nation. It
seems we don’t really know which coun-
tries produce drugs and which don’t.
Police went into Ecuador and found coca
bushes three times the normal size. (At
first, they didn't know what they were see-
ing. It turned out to be a previously un-
known and especially virulent strain of
coca called epadu.) Since coca bushes take
four years to mature, it was obvious that at
least 7000 acres of these plants had been
overlooked by DEA and local officials.

Belize is another example of the same
phenomenon. This tiny country suddenly
went from having no State Department
ranking as a drug producer to being listed
as the number-four exporter of marijuana
to the U.S.

The message is clear: The American
drug-buying public is giving foreigners an
immense incentive to grow and supply
drugs, and when they do it, the U.S. Gov-
ernment threatens to hit them with a small
ick. The incentive is far greater than the
risk. And even if the risk were made larger,
there is no way it can be made large
enough for, say, Brazil.

Brazil, inside of whose borders all the
previously named countries could fit with
room to spare. Brazil, which is approx
mately the size of the entire United States
(3,300,000 square miles, compared with
our 3,600,000) yet has millions of acres
ideal for growing marijuana, coca and
poppies. Brazil: unreeling countless miles
of uncharted forest and jungle, a growing
season for two crops a year and more
sparsely populated tropical wilderness
than any other free nation on earth. The
idea of controlling Brazil's drug produc-
tion is preposterous. State Department
Officials have recently acknowledged that
they have no idea what's going on in Brazil
and that they suspect vast quantities
of—at least—marijuana and cocaine.

And if Brazil were burned off with defo-
liants and nuclear fire, if the fertile Ama-
zon basin were plowed under and salted
with Agent Orange, like the jungles of
Vietnam, that would still leave Burma, a
country where the government has no con-
trol over drug-producing areas. The free-

lance armies that dominate those regions
started running drugs to support their ide-
ological struggle. They ended up conclud-
ing that when running drugs makes you
rich, ideology becomes an academic mat-
ter. Burma is now the world’s premier
opium producer, and last year’s was its
biggest bumper crop.

And if Burma were wiped off the face of
the map, that would still leave Morocco,
geria, Ghana, Togo, Chad, Pakistan,
India, Nepal, Laos, Thailand, Vietnam
and all the rich soil down the gentle and
fertile crescent into Indonesia. And if we
bombed southern Asia into the ocean, that
would still leave Argentina, which I
haven’t mentioned because only recently
have cocaine refineries been discovered in
that area, where 1,000,000 square miles
await cultivation, if some modest entrepre-
neur in search of a steady income of
$20,000,000 or $30,000,000 a month hasn't
begun already. And don’t forget that Af-
ghanistan and Iran, neither of which has
diplomatic relations with us, could grow
all the drugs needed to supply the entire
world without help from South America,
Central America or the Caribbean.

The fact is, our most popular drugs of
abuse come from plants that are nothing
more than weeds. Domestically grown
marijuana was the second largest cash
crop in America in 1983, selling for
$13,860,000,000 compared with the
$15,332,400,000 we spent for corn, When
the DEA cracked down on home-grown
pot, growers went indoors. A three-story
hydroponic Cannabis factory was discov-
ered in Cleveland. The plants were fed
automatically from a 600-gallon tank of
liquid nutrient. Even without this elabo-
rate help from man, marijuana grows wild
now in every state in America. With cul-
tivation, its ability to reproduce is Hercu-
lean. If you want to get a sense of how
difficult it would be to wipe out marijuana,
consider the problems posed by the hum-
ble dandelion. If we can’t even wipe it out
оп сиг own lawns, imagine trying to wipe
out a hearty weed like Cannabis in thou-
sands of acres of roadless jungle.

Yet, right now, the Reagan Administra-
tion is trying to get Colombia and Mexico
to eradicate their Cannabis plantations.
The premise: If drug traffickers can bribe
foreign officials to let them grow the drugs,
then certainly we can bribe foreign officials
to help us wipe them out. The problem is,
drug traffickers have more money.

The result has been twofold: Drug
growers and smugglers have taken the ini-
tiative in killing American and local law-
enforcement agents; and many former
marijuana growers have turned to growing
and processing cocaine, creating an enor-
mous glut of cocaine on the American
market. That fact prompted Congressman
Claude Pepper to remark in a House sub-
committee hearing that since a kilo of coke
was selling for only $15,000, compared
with $65,000 in 1981, “If the price goes
much lower, we may have the drug dealers

coming in and asking for price support.”
Reagan has, in effect, forced Americans to
trade a marijuana glut for a cocaine glut,
without really affecting anyone's ability to
buy and smoke marijuana

And ifyou think Cannabis is tough, take
a look at the coca bush. It will grow on the
carpet in your office. Its grip on life is so
tenacious that pulling off all its leaves will
not kill it—not even pulling it out of the
ground will kill it. You can't spray it from
the air, as you can the marijuana plant.
(You can't even sec coca from thc air; it's
hard to tell whether you're looking at
coca, coffee, plantain or yucca. After har-
vest, aerial cameras detect nothing atall of
the leafless bushes, though they are still
very much alive and already at work pro-
ducing the next season’s crop of leaves.) To
Kill the coca bush, you have to drill down
into the extensive root system and pour
poison directly into its veins. Coca bushes
have been successfully transplanted out of
their native Bolivia and Peru into Colom-
bia, Venezuela and Ecuador, to name just
three countries known to be producing
cocaine—and in the past year, cocaine
laboratories have been discovered inside
the United States. At last report, about
one a month was being busted in the
Miami area. These domestic labs are
believed to be a response to crackdowns on
the exportation of chemicals (mainly
ether) needed to refine raw coca paste into
pure cocaine. Shipments of coca paste
have been found in the United States, even
though it is far heavier and more difficult
to smuggle than cocaine powder (it takes
1000 pounds of coca leaves to produce one
kilo of cocaine). But some authorities are
beginning to worry that the coca bush
itself may be appearing in the U.S. No one
is certain if it could be grown in American
soil, but it could certainly be grown hydro-
ponically indoors.

Since it is so difficult to stop thc coca
bush from growing, the United States per-
suaded Bolivia to move its army in tc pre-
vent cocaine producers from buying the
1984 coca-leaf harvest. The theory was
that if cocaine producers couldn't buy the
raw commodity, then the world's supply of
this illicit drug would shrink. But half of
Bolivia's foreign exchange derives from
coca trade, and with their leaves harvested
and no one to buy them, the people of
Bolivia came close to revolt. The Bolivian
peso was devalued by two thirds over-
night, and the nation (which has changed
governments about once a year for the
past decade) was left in near collapse.

In addition, cocaine production wasn’t
upset at all; it was merely postponed, and
not by much. Bolivia received millions in
American aid for drug eradication, yet
соса production was unaffected. The
American effort there has left Gestapolike
antidrug strike forces trained by the DEA
and a lot of ill will. Currently, another
$53,800,000 is scheduled to be given to
Bolivia in 1986. That's the equivalent of
about seven weeks’ income for Roberto

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244

Suárez Gómez.

Bolivia’s immediate neighbor to the
south is Paraguay. Late in 1984, enough
chemicals were intercepted there to refine
eight tons of cocaine, almost ten percent of
the estimated American market. The sei-
zure of 49,000 gallons of hydrochloric acid,
acetone and ether can mean only one
thing, said American officials: The Para-
guayans are refining cocaine on a large
scale. The suspicion was that the highest
levels of the government were involved.
President Alfredo Stroessner, Paraguay’s
right-wing military dictator, refused to
discuss the matter with the American
Ambassador. So even if Bolivia can some-
how keep people from turning the indige-
nous coca leaf into cocaine—a highly
unlikely premise—that small country is
surrounded by powerful people who will
gladly take up whatever slack is left in the
world market.

In Peru, which produces more coca leaf
than any other country, government
attempts to eradicate the plant were met
by hit teams, some of which may have
been from the left-wing terrorist group
Shining Path, which profits from the drug
trade. Violence has followed all attempts
to eradicate coca, and for a time, the Amer-
ican-supported eradication program was
stopped and Americans left the country.

Even U.S. threats to cut off foreign aid
have fallen flat and were ultimately aban-
doned early in 1985, despite a 1983 law
requiring that we terminate financial aid
to any country that isn’t reducing its drug
crops. The problem with upholding that
law is that it would effectively cut off aid to
almost every nation in the world. Take
Belize again: That tiny country receives
more aid per capita than almost any other
nation. Yet when the U.S. demanded that
Belize stop growing pot or lose American
assistance, nothing happened. State

Department officials are cautious about
insisting on drug eradication as an induce-
ment to foreign aid; some fear Communist
take-over more than drugs. As a result, as

Congressman Charles B. Rangel told The
New York Times last winter, “Not one of
these drug-producing countrics expects
less than a bumper crop this year.”

‘And, finally, there is the poppy, source
of opium, from which heroin is refined. As
mentioned, enough opium poppies can be
grown in countries where the U.S. has no
control to offset any efforts to stop pro-
duction elsewhere. Indeed, when Presi-
dent Nixon persuaded Turkey to stop
growing poppies, the major effect was a
glut of Mexican brown heroin on Ameri-
can streets. Nixon’s war on drugs put
Mexico on the map as an оршт-
producing nation, while Southwest Asian
drug traffickers took their business across
the border into Afghanistan. Ifone Ameri-
can junkie missed an injection, that day
has long since been forgotten in the haze of
ever-more-potent supplies.

In sum: Drug eradication at the source
appears to have failed miserably.

•

Part two of Reagan's plan to reduce
drug use in the United States—to stop the
drugs en route—offers no better hope for
success.

The subject of interdiction brings out
the true nature of the war on drugs. Con-
gressman Shaw recalls his reaction to the
Administration’s plans to stop drug traffic
in Florida. “George Bush came down and
was running down his list of things that
they were going to do,” he says. “I felt like
a small kid watching a John Wayne movie
and the Marines had finally arrived.”
What Shaw overlooked, however, was the
fact that the Marines never invaded Flor-
ida in a John Wayne movie. One difference
between Ronald Reagan and John Wayne
is that John Wayne's advisors knew their
constitutional law.

Rinkevich, then coordinator of Reagan’s
South Florida “Task Force (part of the
police force given to the Vice-President),
wrote this account of a contemporary drug
bust:

Two

small 95-foot U.S. Coast

Guard cutters had intercepted a large
drug-smuggling vessel off the Georgia
coast that refused to stop when
requested to do so by pursuing Coast
Guard. We had received information
that the suspect vessel was heavily
armed and that they might resist a
boarding by the Coast Guard.

Clearly, the Coast Guard vessels
could be outdistanced and, we
thought, perhaps they were “out-
gunned.” The chase went on for
almost two days. In the process, one
of the cutters was running short of
fuel. The U.S. Coast Guard requested
U.S. Navy assistance. The Navy
responded by dispatching the guided-
missile destroyer U.S.S. Clifton E.
Sprague and two A-7 attack aircraft

When the Sprague arrived on the
scene, she refueled the cutter and
stood by while the aircraft flew over
the suspect vessel, below mast level.
The suspected smuggler decided to
stop and submit to a peaceful search.
The vessel was seized and arrests
were made.

Nuclear destroyers and fighter planes
are just a small portion of the arsenal now
in use in the war on drugs. And the more
we use, the more we need: Just as with our
effort to suppress drug crops, one of the
most immediate effects of stepped-up
interdiction efforts is that the smugglers
simply move along to other points of entry.
For cxample, new radar was recently put
up all around the Florida peninsula in an
effort to detect drug-smuggling planes. But
instead of a slowdown in drug imports, the
result has been a flurry of protests from the
governors of Alabama, Louisiana and
Texas. Drugs have been pouring into those
states since the spring of 1985, when the
radar went up. Governor Edwin W.
Edwards of Louisiana complained that a
single plane that crashed in his state car-
ried cocaine worth 20 times what his state
narcotics police spend in a year. Gover-
nors from five states, including Mississippi
and Florida, held a conference to ask for
still more military assistance, evidently
unaware that they were about to increase
the problem, not reduce it. Military assist-
ance, as we learned in Victnam, is like
drug addiction: The more you take, the
sicker you get. The sicker you get, the
more you want,

And so the Army, Navy, Air Force,
Coast Guard and National Guard are all
heaping on the hardware: Seck Skyhook

tethered aerostat look-down radar,
forward-looking infrared, E-2C sub-
hunting radar, P-3 reconnaissance

planes outfitted with F-15 fighter radar,
AWACS airborne radar, Huey, Blackhawk
and Cobra interceptor — helicopters,
Mohawk tracker aircraft and PHM hydro-
foils are all in use. Talking with the drug-
enforcement people these days is a lot like
talking with Vietnam-war majors was in
the early Seventies. Their specch is laced
with the dazzling locutions of space

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war: unit capability, combat sorties,
bombs on target, ton miles, force-structure
modernization and host-base support. It's
no wonder—that's the water they all swim
in now.

[interviewed a former Army officer who
is now at the forefront of the war on drugs.
His eyes lit up as he described the hard-
ware. “You get him on radar and then you
zoom in on the optics. The new optics
we've got are just incredible. At 100 miles,
I can tell if you're wearing a watch. At 50
miles, I can tell you what time it is.” He
described voice-printing radios. It turns
out that no two radios are the same, just as
no two voices are the same. New technol-
ogy can read and identify
made, the way the FBI
print. Computer files of suspect radios are
being kept, and as planes pop upon radar,
the crew is interrogated. “They can lie
about their numbers and who they are,
but the radio signal tells the truth.”

Yet any number of strategies can get
around the hardware. One strategy is
illustrated by the experience of Avianca,
the Colombian national airline, whose
planes have been busted 34 times in the
past five years for carrying drugs. (I’m not
suggesting that Avianca itself was smug-
gling those drugs.) In February 1985, U.S.
Customs caught an Avianca 747 carrying
a metric ton (1000 kilos) of cocaine hidden
among flowers that were being imported.
In June 1984, Customs caught а Panama-
nian Inair Cargo DC-8 with an even larger
shipment of cocaine hidden in freezers.
These carriers show up on regular radar,
bur they cause no alarms to go off: They
are scheduled flights with offical flight
plans. And with the drug trade reaching
into the highest levels of government, there
is no hope that this type of shipment will
stop. The presidential press secretary of
Colombia, Roman Medina, was arrested
for smuggling cocaine into Spain in his
diplomatic pouch, (The charges were later
dropped.) Three Bahamian cabinet minis-
ters had to resign when their association
with drug trafficking was uncovered by a
royal commission. Two others were fired.
Mexico is notorious for its corrupt officials,
and one of the numerous military dictators
who took over Bolivia was himself a
cocaine trafficker.

But even without the help of a govern-
ment, a smuggler can avoid the new radar
coverage of Florida. He can go elsewhere
or he can fly over the tethered balloons
that carry the radar. Or he can drop his
cargo onto boats waiting in the water
below. The boats can then split up and
enter the United States through thousands
of inlets along the shore line. For pilots fly-
ing large loads of drugs, piggybacking can
be used: The illegal plane flies slightly
above and behind a routine airline flight.
When two planes are that close together,
radar will interpret them as one target.
Since pilots can’t see behind them, the
drug plane goes unnoticed. Customs uses
this technique to track suspect planes.

Of course, the more tricks the smus
think up, the more hardware the
will throw at them. The more hardware,
the more tricks, and so on in a never-
ending spiral. It almost tempts one to
make comparisons with the Vietnam war,
except that such comparisons are invidi-
ous. In Vietnam, we still had our inno-
cence. Now there's no excuse for this
extravagant waste. There is no one in the
military who can claim he doesn't know
from experience that this kind of techno-
logical show cannot defeat a large and
highly motivated number of individuals
who, if they like, can walk into the United
States on foot anywhere along 5000 miles
of border. Even as Army officers were tell-
ing me about new radar installations they
had planned for Mexico to guard against
aircraft flying in through mountain passes
and entering low over Arizona, smugglers
were pouring into the United States
through the inlets and airfields up and
down the coasts—as well as through com-
mercial airports, railway terminals and
bus stations.

Most major drug shipments from Asia
arrive on commercial cargo jets, usually
in so-called containerized form—those
aluminum boxes you see sitting out on the
ramp at airports around the world. Cus-
toms doesn’t have the manpower to search
each of them. Every once in a while, a dog
will sniff out the odd load of heroin, but
shrink wrapping and other techniques
make that largely a chance occurrence.

‘Smuggling is as old as commerce itself.
Historically, it has proved to be an endless
competition of will and imagination, in
which the smugglers have better resources
and are prepared to be more daring than
those who are put there to catch them. The
truth is, smugglers are willing to die try-
ing: “I saw a figure a couple of years ago
that astounded me,” says William J.
Anderson of the General Accounting
Office. “In one year, 120 plane crashes,
narcotics plane crashes, by chance
mechanical failures. How many made it?
What are the odds of crashing on any one
flight?” Customs estimates that 18,000
planeloads of drugs penctrate the South-
ern borders of the United States annually.

Customs regards that figure аз dis-
couraging. The DEA agrees. So do the
U.S. Coast Guard, the Department of
Defense, the FBI, the Immigration and
Naturalization Service, the IRS, the
National Institute on Drug Abuse, the
Department of State, the Department of
the ‘Treasury, the Office of the Vice-
President and the White House Drug
Abuse Policy Office—all of which are
waging another kind of war: the fight over
who's in charge of the war on drugs. For,
although some agents are clearly willing to
die for what they represent, they are ham-
pered in ways the drug smuggler isn’t.

For example, the DEA has charge of
drug-enforcement policy, but it doesn’t
generally interdict drug smugglers; it usu-
ally only inyestigates and prosecutes them.

The Coast Guard can interdict, but it has
few resources and also has the mission of
safety on the high seas. (And no small con-
cern is this: If Coast Guard officers are rid-
ing around on nuclear aircraft carriers,
waiting to board drug-smuggling vessels,
who is going to help you when your sail-
boat runs into foul weather? Since only
1390 people died from taking illegal drugs
in 1983 and 6000 people drowned, some
Coast Guard officials feel that there may
be a misordering of priorities.)

The U.S. Customs Service is in even
worse shape. Customs is like a few men
standing in the surf with their hands
joined, waiting to stop a tidal wave. Cus-
toms can’t even talk to its own boats
beyond a three-to-five-mile range from
shore. Some Customs boats don't even
have radios. Until last year, Customs had
only two aircraft, onc in San Dicgo and
one in Miami

In addition, Reagan's quasi-legal Vice-
Presidential law-enforcement arm, known
as the National Narcotics Border Interdic-
tion System (NNBIS, pronounced Enbus),
has produced morc infighting than any
other antidrug force. NINBIS was created
by Reagan in March 1983 to coordinate
military involvement in drug-control
efforts. It is now common, according to the
DEA, for Bush's flamboyant chief of staff,
Admiral Murphy, who runs NNBIS, to
take credit for drug seizures made by
other agencies. Bush's office released a
statement that NNBIS and the South
Florida Task Force “have captured
almost 5,000,000 pounds of marijuana—
practically halting the flow of that drug
into this part of the country—and confis-
cated almost 28,000 pounds of cocaine,
about 12 billion dollars’ worth of drugs
altogether.”

The DEA responded, “These figures go
far beyond what this Administration can
support,” and NNBIS “cannot possibly
account for this large discrepancy.”

NNBIS is not empowered to bust any-
one. And so far, it has managed to demor-
alize agents in the field and confuse foreign
governments about just who is in charge
here. The violations by NNBIS of stand-
ard law-enforcement procedures designed
to protect civil liberties are so flagrant that
they alarm even the DEA, which com-
mented, “The NNBIS center . . . has set
up information systems to track cases. Its
data-processing system is capable of
retrieving information by name of suspect,
yet appropriate record-system clearances,
required by the Freedom of Information/
Privacy Acts, have not been obtained.” If
this is true, it is a deliberate violation of
law.

But the Office of the Vice-President can
hardly be blamed for all the confusion:
Nearly everyone is involved in the war on
drugs. As far back as 1978, the Select
Committee on Narcotics Abuse and Con-
trol attempted to identify all the players in
US. antidrug efforts. Its report noted:

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PLAYBOY

248

Eleven Cabinet departments, 13
independent agencies and nine Exec-
utive offices [participating] in the
Federal Government efforts to control
drug abuse. Operating 25 part of the
31 Executive branch agencies is a web
of 95 additional subagencies that have
participated or are now participat-
ing in the Federal narcotics-control
program. . . . The Select Committee
has become increasingly disturbed by
the severe fragmentation that exists in
the Federal strategy to prevent or
control drug abuse. . . . Federal du-
plication of effort creates serious
problems for the over-all narcotics-
control program.

Five years later, in hearings held in Feb-
ruary 1983, the following assessment was
made of progress in this area:

Fragmentation of Federal efforts
has long been recognized as a major
problem. . . . While various drug
strategies have been prepared over
the years, the most recent in October
1982, nonc has adequately defined the
yarious agencies’ drug-interdiction
roles. . . . Interdiction difficulties are
only one manifestation of a broader
coordination problem that we have
previously reported oi No one
person has the information or respon-
sibility to evaluate Federal drug
efforts and recommend corrective
actions. . . . For example, currently
no one can determine whether the
$175,000,000 spent on marijuana
interdiction by the Coast Guard could
be used more effectively on the inter-
national narcotics-control program

Asking not to be named,
gressional staff member long associated

with drug enforcement said, “The Federal
effort is in shambles. Nobody's driving.”

And of the two basic methods the Rea-
gan Administration has used to stop drug
traffic, Congressman Buddy MacKay of
Florida says, “They both are a failure,
because the amount coming through is
greater and greater. We are interdicting
ten times as much and the price is going
down. which means there is an awful lot
more coming through.” In other words.
grandiose claims of success based on
larger and larger amounts seized are noth-
ing more than bigger body counts: They
don’t mean the war is being won.

О

‘There is one final element to the strate-
gy for drug control, though it is not getting
any significant emphasis (i.e, funding) by
the Reagan Administration: eliminating
drug abuse through education and reha-
bilitation. This means attacking the cause
of the problem, not the symptom. As men-
tioned earlier, drug-seeking behavior is a
symptom of a disease. This country's cur-
rent approach—removing the drugs—is
like treating obesity by making food ille-
gal. On the other hand, education and
rehabilitation are the most promising
approaches to treating addictive disease.
Virtually all responsible medical authori-
ties agree on this point. So far, however,
the Government has not made the attempt
to carry out such a program.

Еог опе thing, according to professionals
in the fields of law, medicine, drug ad-
diction and health, a credible education
program cannot be conducted in an atmos-
phere of prohibition. In its report to the
Madrid conference, the International
Legal Defense Counsel stated, “Prohibi-
tion has fostered a widespread disrespect
for law and science, resulting in a loss of
credibility concerning reports of the nega-
tive health effects of the drugs. The pro-
hibition thwarts effective public awareness

[OWN NO LAND AND MUST WORK on MY YOUNGEST DAUGHTER 15 DYING
BIG HACIENDAS” ALL DAY FOR VERY] [FROM CANCER BECAUSE SHE WAS

and education by parents, school officials
and drug-abuse educato

What was being suggested was this:
Make drugs legal and control them as we
control liquor and tobacco. When I sug-
gested that to Carleton Turner, he said,
"When you think about that kind of ques-
tion, and you have this big umbrella, it
looks like a nice umbrella to get under. But
it’s like some of those cheap umbrellas you
buy when you go to a ten-cent store and
buy an umbrella: First rain you get, the
rain comes through and you get we
Which is no doubt one of the reasons Con-
gressional staff members say the Presi-
dent's drug-abuse-policy advisor is not
qualified to speak on such matters.

But numerous other rational pcople,
including a former director of the CIA,
have suggested legalization as a strategy.
It is, after all, the only one we haven't
tried. The worst that could happen is that
it would fail; it is difficult to imagine
that we could have a larger drug problem
with legal controls than we have now with-
out them

On March 28, 1985, William Rusher,
the publisher of National Review, wrote,
“The one thing that could be done, over-
night, is to legalize the stufi. . . . Congress
should study the dramatic alternative,
which is legalization followed by a dra-
matic educational effort in which the serv-
ofall civic-minded, and some less than
-minded, resources are mobilized.
ion, for instance. Let the Fed-
cral Communications Commission make it
a part of the overhead of a television
license to broadcast 30 minutes a week,
prime time, what dope does to you.”

The same month, Hugh Downs and
Barbara Walters recommended the same
thing on their 20/20 TV show. Mike

Royko, in his syndicated newspaper col-
"If so many Americans want

umn, asked,

and use marijuana, if they are already
getting it so easily, if they insist on spend-
ing billions of dollars а у on it, why are
we screaming at Mexico, why are hordes
of narcotics agents floundering around
in futile attempts to find it, why are the
police and courts still wasting time and

y trying to put dealers in jail for sell-
it? . If it were legal, we wouldn't
have gun-crazy dealers spraying Florida
and other big import states with machine-
gun bullets.”

The argument against legalizing drugs
(leaving aside Turner's fascinating, if rec-
ondite, umbrella retort) is that it would
turn the United States into a depopulated
land of mindless addicts. But Joseph
Allen, district attorney for Mendocino
County, California—the largest producer
of domestic pot in the United States—
says, “People have seen there really hasn't
been a change in the community. . . . The
only difference now is that people who
would have been unemploycd are picking
up some extra money.”

Opium is legal in India, and that coun-
try has little problem with opium’s being
diverted to the black market or converted
into heroin, according to the 1984 “Report
for the Select Committee on Narcotics
Abuse and Control,” “largely due to an
effective opium-production-control sy
tem.” The Netherlands legalized mari
juana in 1978, and it has fewer pot
smokers than nations in which pot is ille-
gal. Dutch government officials say there
have been no medical or criminal conse-
quences of legalization, except that fewer
people seem interested in the drug now
that it’s readily available.

And, finally, those who oppose legaliza-
tion of drugs say that it is impossible
because of the Single Convention on
Narcotic Drugs, signed by 113 nations in
1961, in which those nations agreed to
“take legislative measures . . . to limit...

1 DO NOT ASK FOR MUCH. | ONLY ASK

use and possession of drugs." This ignores
the built-in mechanisms in that conven-
tion for altering its resolution or even for
denouncing it under special circum-
stances. Murder contracts taken out on the
DEA administrator and on an American
Ambassador provide at least the oppor-
tunity to consider whether or not those
special circumstances now exist. The
International Legal Defense Counsel
wrote, “Where a nation which is a signa-
tory to the Single Convention on Narcotic
Drugs wishes to exercise the option of reg-
ulation and taxation, procedures exist
whereby said nation could adopt such a
plan.”
.

Drug trafficking is a low-risk bu:

lower.

ness—
any event, than law enforcement,
Even if Reagan succeeds in his stated goal
of sealing the borders and making the
United States the world’s largest banana
republic, the really good drug smugglers
will still get through, and the local grow-
ers will supply the rest. Even Poland has a
drug problem, and it’s not exactly a wide-
open frontier state.

Ultimately, sorting the bad guys from
the good guys is the oldest problem of
societies that have grown beyond the tribal
level. This principle underlies all espio-
nage work. It was the fundamental cause
of our inability to win in Vietnam—we
couldn’t tell who the bad guys were, be-
cause all the Vietnamese looked alike to
us. And that sorting problem forms the
basis of all police states, because weak
leaders often resort to absolute control
(assume everyone is a bad guy) rather
than face the possibility that people ma
do what they want. Turner told me, “We
don't want to accept the fact that there are
evil people in the world. We Americans
think that everyone is good.” If that was
true, it’s ending.

Е
©
ec
T
Э

COMMUNIST.

Under new systems of detection, U.S.
drug-interdiction forces sighted 10,500
“suspect vehicles” 1983. ОГ course,
most of those were falsely suspect, and
most could never be intercepted, searched
and seized. The point is that American
antidrug forces are moving toward a day
when travel in and of itself may be consid-
ered probable cause for arrest on suspicion
of intent to smuggle drugs. Already, the
Supreme Court has ruled that police may
come onto your land without a warrant to
search for drugs you might be growing.
Owning open land is now probable cause.

Pre-emptive law enforcement of this
type has never worked. Pre-emptive law
enforcement forms the beginning of a
police state. A law professor at the Univer-
sity of Texas, himself a prominent criminal
attomey, says, "My students amaze me.
They're all smoking pot, studying to be
lawyers, and they just shrug it off, saying,
‘Well, nobody really gets busted for smok-
ing grass anymore. Meanwhile, their
moms are going to antimarijuana rallies.
Pcople are afraid of the unknown, and that
is making lawyers like me rich and keeping
the average citizen poor. You want to talk
about lack of productivity caused by
drugs, look at the people in jail. We've got
judges releasing murderers and rapists to
keep the grass dealers in jail, because
mandatory sentencing requires it and the
jails are too crowded to keep both. It’s a
classic case of biting off our noses to spite
our faces.”

He could not help recalling an Army
major who, during the Vietnam war, made
history—history many of us have already
forgotten—by standing before a blackened
spot where the village of Ben Tre had been
and justifying what he'd done by saying,
“We had to destroy it in order to save it.”

\ 4

249

PLAYBOY

CHRISTMAS IN THE AIR

(continued from page 156)

“There are more than 60,000 buffaloes in produc-
tion, so enjoy your buffalo steak without guilt.”

also produces a creditable edam cheese, 2
Ibs. for $13.50, and a snappy natural white
cheddar, 2 Ibs. for $12. Delivery is extra.
Maytag Dairy Farms, Box 806, Newton,
Iowa 50208; 800-247-2458 (CK, M.O., У,
A.E., М.С.)

One of the wildest assortments of cheese
in the U.S. is carried by Ideal Cheese, and
proprietor Ed Edelman may be the most
erudite dealer. Among his recent discover-
ies are а 4-Ib. wheel of Swiss gruyère (from
the district of. Gruyére)—drier, sharper
and nuttier than emmentaler, $19.95;
huntsman, a layered combination of dou-
ble gloucester and English stilton, $17.95
for a 2%-Ib. half-wheel, $34.95 for the
5-lb.; wynendale, a creamy, assertive, yet
not overwhelming cheese from Belgium,
$5.98 per pound; and Columbo gorgon-
zola, possibly the best gorgonzola this side
of Italy, $6.98 per pound. Edelman's
insider’s choices for this year’s top gift
cheeses are saga with mushrooms—a зой,
rich, buttery triple cream studded with
mushrooms—$6.98 per pound; and
English stilton in a reusable earthenware
crock, 17 ozs., $16.95. Delivery is extra.
Ideal Cheese Shop, 1205 Second Avenue,
New York, New York 10021; 212-688-7579
(CK, M.O., V, A.E., M.C.).

Dry monterey is a singularly American
cheese. It’s sweet and nutty, not ui
medium-cured parmesan. Sam Sebastiani
of Sebastiani Vineyards sends out literally
hundreds before Christmas. Ап 8-lb.
wheel goes for $30, including delivery.
Vella Cheese Company, 315 Second Street
East, P.O. Box 191, Sonoma, California
95476-0191; 707-938-3232 (CK, М.О.).

SHEER LUXURY

Caviar is never cheap, but prices some-
times ease off during the preholiday sea-
son. And while it’s impossible to predict
future prices, remember that it pays to
comparison shop. Condition is even more
important than price; order from reliable
sources and request next-day delivery. The
following outlets have good reputations.

Hansen Caviar offers a full line of fresh
(unpasteurized) Russian caviar. The com-
pany is also deeply involved in the devel-
oping American caviar industry. This is
bona fide sturgeon caviar, comparable to
the imported sevruga—at about half the
price. Hansen Caviar Company, Inc.,
391-A Grand Avenue, Englewood, New Jer-
sey 07631; 201-568-9659 (CK, М.О., У,
AE., М.С.).

Now, for the first time, Romanoff caviar

“Tt just seems that Christmas has changed a lot
since I was a kid.”

is available by mail order. The company is
offering its full line of fresh caviars at the
current market price. For further de
phone 800-243-5293 and ask for the caviar
desk. Other places known for good quality
and good value are Caviar Direct,
800-472-4456 (in New York City,
737-8990), and Zabar's, 800-221-3347 (in
New York City, 787-2000).

The Maine Event is a complete, authen-
tic New England shore dinner. The dinner
for four includes four good-sized lobsters
(1%-1% Ibs.), 4 Ibs. of steamer clams, two
pints of fish chowder, bibs, nutcrackers
and cooking instructions—everything but
the sound of the surf. Lobsters arrive
frisky. The condition of everything is guar-
anteed. The price is $96.95, including
delivery. Dinners for two ($59.95) to 14
($285.95) are also available, as are lobsters
alone: 1¥4-to-1Ys-pounders—$75.95 for
four, delivered. Legal Sea Foods, Inc., 33
Everett Street, Boston, Massachusetts
02134; 800-343-5804 (CK, M.O., У,
AE., M.C., D.C).

THE MEAT MARKET

When you're gorging yourself on Flying
Pig’s whole fresh barbecued ham, you're
eating high on the hog. It’s slowly pit-
cooked over hickory coals for 24 hours and
is periodically basted with a distinctive,
mustardy sauce. ‘Iwo whole barbecued
hams, about 20 lbs. each, sell for $89; the
barbecue sauce, Southern Gold, is $3.95
per 12-02. bottle. Flying Pig also offers au-
thentic chopped-ham barbecue, ribs and
Carolina stew. Prices include delivery.
Maurice Bessinger's Flying Pig Barbecue
Service, P.O. Box 6847, West Columbia,
South Carolina 29171; 800-MAURICE
(CK, M.O., У, М.С.).

At the turn of the century, there were
only 22 wild buffaloes in North America;
now there are more than 60,000 in com-
mercial production alone, so enjoy your
buffalo steak without guilt. Buffalo steaks
from Jackson Hole, Wyoming, are rich,
full-flavored and lean—and not the least
bit рату. They're $7.50 per pound, but
shipping charges are high. Other products
are smoked buffalo roast ($18.50 for a 1-1Ь.
roast) and buffalo jerky ($15 per half
pound). Price includes delivery on all but
Steaks. Beck Buffalo Products, South Park
Route, Box 2141, Jackson Hole, Wyoming
83001; 800-367-3874 (CK, M.O., V,
AE., MC).

Fogel's Buflalo Basin in Fountain City,
Wisconsin, claims to be the largest pur-
veyor of fresh buffalo meat in the world.
We've sampled its beef jerky and Buffalo
Bill's smoked bufialo-and-becf summer
sausage, and both are a tasty mouthful.
Fogel's summer sausage is $395 for 12
ozs.; а 12-oz. jar of pickled Polish buffalo
sausage is $5.25 ($13.50 for a half gallon);
a jar of 36 buffalo-jerky sticks is $21.60;
and a box of 24 smoked-sausage sticks is
$12. Fogel’s also has a large variety of buf-
falo steaks, ranging from $3 per pound for
bottom round to $12 per pound for tender-
loin. Delivery is extra. Fogels Buffalo

Ө E
III

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Its a whole new world.

Today’s
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SURGEON GENERAL'S WARNING: Quitting Smoking | мг
Now Greatly Reduces Serious Risks to Your Health. Фоча" 08 mp. titio v.
n ШШШ porcigarette by FTC method, ©1988 8.3. nev

MOLDS TOBACCO CO.

Basin, Inc., Route One, Fountain City, Wis-
consin 54629; 608-687-8146 (CK, М.О.).
For the first time in 45 years, Pick's
imported Hungarian salami is available in
the U.S. It’s zesty, aromatic, slowly air-
cured and fine-grained. You slice it thin,
because the taste is intense. Pick’s comes
in 146. and 2946. sizes—S7.98 per
pound, delivered. Paprikas Weiss, 1546
Second Avenue, New York, New York 10028;
212-288-6117 (CK, M.O., V, A.E., M.C.).
Butchers will tell you that top-notch
veal must be pale—and imported. The
veal raised at Summerfield Farm, Vir-
ginia, is rosy and relatively lean, Yet with
customers such as Berkeley's Chez Panisse
restaurant and praise from food authority
Craig Claiborne, they must be doing
something right. The tasty, tender veal is
offered in assorted packages ranging in
price from $75 to $145, plus delivery. Cus-
tomers can also make up their own assort-
ments. Jamie Nicoll, Summerfield Farm,
Route One, Box 43, Boyce, Virginia 22620;
703-837-1718 (CK, V, M.C.)

WHERE THERE'S SMOKE, THERE'S SALMON

Smoked salmon is a familiar buffet item
around the holidays—a nice counterpoint
to champagne. Ducktrap River offers both
Western/Pacific and Eastern Scotch-style
smokes, and they’re good examples of the
genre. Proprietor Des Fitzgerald likes to
emphasize the “complete trim” given his
fish. The Scotch-style sides are $64.50 ($57
in New England); Western-style sides are
$56.50 ($49.50 in New England). Weight is
2 to 2% lbs. Prices include delivery. Duck-
trap River Fish Farm, Inc. R.F.D. 2,
Box 378, Lincolnville, Мате 04849;
207-763-3960 (CK, M.O., V, М.С.).

If you and your friends are really serious
about smoked salmon, investigate the
International Salmon Sampler, which in-
cludes the four major styles of smoked
salmon—satiny Scotch, smoky Irish, rich
Norwegian and meaty Alaska sockeye—
and discover which style is your personal
favorite. Each side is guaranteed to weigh
at least 2 Ibs. The four sides, all prime,
plus a stainless-steel knife, are $169.95,
including delivery. Sides may also be pur-
chased individually—at $49.95 each,
including delivery. Legal Sea Foods, Inc.

Large rainbow trout smoked by the
traditional Scotch method for salmon is a
novelty. It's similar to smoked salmon,
though more subtle. Use just as you would
the salmon. Presliced and re-formed sides
(guarantced minimum 1 Ib.) are $33.
Delivery is extra. Hansen Caviar Com-

pany, Inc.

BAKED GOODS

Memory can play tricks, but one thing
that’s as good as you remember is the
famed Arnold Reuben cheesecake. It’s
creamy, velvety and so rich that a narrow
wedge is an adequate portion. The 2-1b.
cake, six to eight portions, costs $16.75;
cake, 16 to 20 portions, is $29.95.
include delivery. While the plain is

MAIL-ORDER SMARTS

Shopping via mail order, properly done, can simplify your life—or at least a
part of it. On the other hand, if you're not clued in, things can become compli-
cated, Here are points to which you should be alert—even if you're an old hand.

.
Specify the delivery date if you want your purchase to arrive at a certain time.
б

Always double check as to extra charges for delivery, handling, insurance, etc.

Don't take anything for granted.
.
Enclose both your home and your business phone numbers.

•
Never use а post-office-box address when purchasing perishable goods. The
condition in which they arrive cannot be guaranteed.
.
Schedule perishable items to arrive early in the week, so they don't sit in а ware-
house over a weekend, and make sure someone will be there to receive them.
•
A number of mail-order shippers require a minimum purchase for each order.
Make sure you meet the minimum.
•
Find out whether or not the shipper has ап 800 number (toll-free) in addition to
the regular phone number.
.
Make your order and address сазу to read. Type ог print plainly. Include the
Zip Code on every address.
•
Gift cards or business cards can be enclosed with your order, but call attention
to them. Some houses supply gift cards and will inscribe one with your message if
requested. If you don’t want an order form with prices included, make that clear.

.
Have your catalog and credit card handy when phoning in an order.
.

Order by catalog number if there is one.

•

Purchase by credit card if time is a factor. As a rule, goods will not be shipped
until a check has cleared.

.

If you don't have a catalog from a shipper that interests you, ask for one. It will

almost always be sent promptly and at no charge.
•

Read the fine print in an ад ог a catalog to note such neat points as guarantee
and refund policy.

•

Keep а record of your order: date, method of payment, etc. The law states that
companies must respond to an order within 30 days, either by fulfilling it or by
explaining why they haven't done so. You have a right to cancel after 30 days if
service is not satisfactory and to get a full refund.

О
Orders from companies within your state call for the state or city sales tax, if
there is one.
•
Most companies will want the expiration date of your credit card if used,
.

Some companics have a special customers’ service line, different from the order

line, to take complaints and make adjustments.
.
For speediest delivery, specify one-day or two-day air. Note that this may
involve additional charges,

.

Many companies will not ship merchandise C.O.D. nor accept collect calls.
.

Gift wrap, if you want it, is usually available gratis or with a modest charge.
.

Prices are subject to change and are not guaranteed beyond a specified date.
•

Special discounts may be available on large-quantity orders, Inquire!

SEND CHECK OR MONEY ORDER ТО:

KARESS

18653 VENTURA BLVD., SUITE 325
TARZANA, СА 91356

Size на

O Twin Set $27.95

O Full Set $39.95

O Queen Set $49.95

О King Set $59.95

D Waterbed Set $69.95
(specify size)

C13 Letter Monogram
on 2 cases $5.00
initials Rose Pink

Add $3.00 Shipping & Handling O Silver

Matching Comforter Any Size $59.95 ($6 S&H)
Size Color

Colors
OBlack

D Brown

O Burgundy
O Champange
ORed

O Light Blue
O Royal Blue
O Lavender.

Dust Ruffle ($3 S&H)

D Twin $26.00 Color

О Queen $32.00 Color
| cru $28.00 Color

OKing $37.00 Color

Pillow Sham (Set of two) ($2 S&H)
О Standard Size $20.00 Color
O King Size $26.00 Color

Name

Address

Apt. No.
rr

ALL MAJOR CREDIT CARDS ACCEPTED,

O Amer. Express E] Visa O MasterCard

Bart. A не) Бир. Date,
Karess Inc., 6117 Reseda Blvd.. ea CA 91335
30 Day Money Back Guarantee

easily the most popular style, Reuben’s
cheesecakes also come in other flavors.
Arnold Reuben Jr.'s Cheese Cakes, 15 Hill
Park Avenue, Great Neck, New York 11021;
516-466-3685 (CK, M.O., У, A.E., М.С.).

When it comes to English muffins,
Wolferman’s are the best—fiat-out. These
plump, airy pillows, almost twice the size
of standard muffins, are crisp, chewy and
moist all at once—with an appealing,
yeasty aroma. They come in five flavors—
original (plain), light wheat, cheddar
cheese, cinnamon raisin and blueberry.
The original are $17 for four dozen; two
dozen are $10. Flavors are a little more,
delivery extra. Wolferman’s, 1900 West
47th Place, Suite 218, Westwood, Kansas
66205; 800-255-0169 (CK, M.O., V,
A.E., М.С.).

Normally, focaccia bread is slightly
spongy, soft and chewy. Di Camillo’s
focaccia is different—and delicious. It’s
crisp, well peppered, herbed and anointed
with extra-virgin Italian olive oil. A 9-oz.
bag is $6.80; a large canister holding just
over a pound is $13.20. Also noteworthy
are the piquant, buttery Biscotti al
Formaggio—Italian cheese crisps. A 9-oz.
bag is $7.40; large canister, $13.20. Prices
include delivery. Di Camillo Baking Com-
pany, 811 Linwood Avenue, Niagara Falls,
New York 14305; 716-282-2341 (СК. У.
A.E., М.С).

FOR THE LOVE OF CHOCOLATE

Even people who aren't crazy about
chocolate succumb to the sensuous taste of
Teuscher's champagne truffles. An elegant
blend of cream, butter and chocolate, with
a champagne-cream center, these delights
are imported weekly from Switzerland to
ensure freshness. Teuscher also presents
truffles in nine other flavors; the price is
the same for all. A 9-oz. box is $14.25; 14
ozs., $22; 20 ozs., $32; 36 ozs., $56. Deliv-
ery is extra. Teuscher Chocolates of Switzer-
land, 620 Fifth Avenue, New York, New
York 10020; 212-246-4416 (CK, M.O.,
V, A.E., М.С.

The Belgian chocolate Manon is just
starting to make its mark in the States. It
offers a selection of 60 kinds of hand-
dipped chocolates. Among the favorites
are Cheval Noir, Rose de Bruxelles and
Bouchon. One-pound ballotin, $25; 2-Ib.
ballotin, $50. Delivery is extra. Le Cho-
colatier Manon, 872 Madison Avenue, New
York, New York 10021; 212-288-8088 (CK,
M.O., V, A.E., M.C.).

Considering the insatiable hunger for
truffles in the land, Dearborn’s new do-it-
yourself chocolate-truffle kit should find a
constituency. The kit contains a rich
chocolate-trufle base, Dutch-process co-
сва, a forming spoon, candy papers and
a recipe book. One gift-boxed kit yields
about 24 truffles and costs $19.50, includ-
ing delivery. Dearborn, 1 Christopher Street,
New York, New York 10014; 212-691-9153
(CK, M.O.).

If visions of sugarplums dance in your
head, you must be thinking of those at

Paprikas Weiss. These are moist, imported
pitted plums, filled with jam, then covered
with chocolate. Ап B-oz. gift box, $7; three
boxes, $18. Price includes delivery.

NOT THE SAME OLD GRIND

‘The Empire Coffee and Tea company
offers 55 bean coffees from Colombia, Bra-
zil, Africa, Costa Rica, Venezuela, ct al.
You can have them straight or in any
combination, custom-blended to taste, in
any grind you want, at $3.99 per pound.
Empire also carries the true, high-grown
Jamaica Blue Mountain coffee—not the
ersatz version that often passes for
Jamaica Blue—at $15 to $17 per pound.
The house blend—Colombian light roast,
Colombian Vienna (medium dark) roast
and ‘Tanzanian Peaberry—is $4.99 per
pound. If decaffeinated is your cup, you
can choose from ten kinds, all water-
processed, at $4.99 per pound. Empire’s
tea stock outnumbers its coffees—with 60
kinds on tap. Two to look for are the full-
bodied, perfumed Russian Wine, 56 per
pound, and the brisk English Breakfast, a
blend of four teas, $6.25 per pound. Deliv-
ery is extra. Empire Coffee and Tea, 486
Ninth Avenue, New York, New York 10018;
212-564-1460 (CK, M.O., V, M.C.).

While Community Kitchens offers a
variety of foods and appliances, the
emphasis is on coffee. One of their C-
tive coffees is the New Orleans Blend—
one third chicory, two thirds coffee in a
Vienna roast. The price for three 1-Ib.
packages is $13.50, plus delivery. Commu-
nity Kitchens, P.O. Box 3778, Baton Rouge,
Louisiana 70821-3778; 800-535-9901
(CK, M.O., V, A.E., M.C.).

WINES AND SPIRITS.

Government regulations ban the ship-
ment of wines and spirits across state bor-
ders. But where there's a will, there's a
way, and the way is to dial 800 Spirits,
which can arrange delivery of your gift
through local retailers everywhere. You
pay for the service, of course. Prices range
from $25 to $400, including gift wrap and
delivery, There’s a liberal list of labels
from which to choose, 800 Spirits, Inc., 2
University Plaza, Hackensack, New Jersey
07601; 800-BE-THERE (У, A.E., M.C.,
D.C).

Nationwide Gift Liquor offers a similar.
service; overnight delivery available on
request. For prices and complete details,
phone the toll-free number. Nationwide
Gift Liquor Service, Inc., Р.О. Box 32070,
Phoenix, Arizona 85064; 800-CHEER-UP
(M.O., V, A.E., M.C., C.B., D.C.).

•

The artisans who create these bonnes
bouches take pride in their reputations, and
they tend to reserve the top of the line—
the plumpest, juiciest, ripest items—for
their mail-order clientele. So the odds for
getting something good are all in your
favor when you shop by mail.

== — o E =
== c] — اص‎
= mike win inv S-

“See, I told you there was a Santa Claus.”

PLAYBOY

256

READ THE PROSPECTUS

(continued from page 195)

“So much for the brochure. Now let me tell you how to
read an oil-and-gas-deal prospectus.”

have here—delivered by hand to our
door—is a fat manila envelope from
United States Trust, one of the oldest,
classiest, most exclusive banks in the coun-
try. (“When you do something very well,
you simply cannot до it for everyone.”)

Inside is everything you'll need to eval-
uate and sign up for the Samson Proper-
ties 1985-A Drilling Program. U.S. Trust
describes Samson 1985-А as “a quality oil-
and-gas investment with relatively moder-
ate risk, inherent tax benefits and the
potential for significant upside economic
gains.” (As opposed, one presumes, to
downside economic gains.)

The bank’s cover letter outlines the
deal. With it, in your envelope, come а col-
orful Samson sales brochure, a deadly

165-page Samson prospectus, a huge U.S.
Trust business-reply envelope for your
signed papers and $25,000 check and a
form you sign agreeing to pay the bank a
five percent “advisory fee” for bringing
the deal to your attention.

There is already a 7.5 percent sales
commission built into the deal, but the
bank can't touch it (it's illegal for banks to
sell securities like these), so, instead, it
charges this five percent advisory fee. The
bank's not selling anything—merely rec-
ommending that you buy it and enclosing
all the papers you need to sign and send to
effect the purchase.

By paying the "advisory fee,” you are
essentially getting the deal at 105 percent
of retail. You could avoid the fee by рш-

chasing Samson units directly through a
stockbroker, but when you deal with a
classy bank—this is not a bank that’s out
hawking car loans—you should show a lit-
tle class yourself.

Participations in Samson 1985-A run
$25,000 and up. Much of that money will
go toward the drilling of development
wells—the kind of wells you drill in
proven fields, even if they won’t make you
a fortune—and 90 percent or more of what
you put in will be deductible in 1985.
‘There are aspects of the deal designed to
make it attractive for the limited partners,
but what really matters in an oil deal is
how much oil you produce. Tax deduc-
tions are peachy, but not if you never get
your money back. (How rich could you get
giving everything to the Red Cross?)

THESE ARE SPECULATIVE SECURITIES AND
INVOLVE A HIGH DEGREF OF RISK, cautions the
front page of the prospectus. The SEC
makes ‘em say stuff like that. The bank
prefers to describe it as “relatively moder-
ate risk.” And, as only clients with net
worths of $1,000,000 or incomes of
$200,000 are advised to participate, it's
true. What's an extra $25,000 ог
$50,000—tax-deductible, to boot—to
somebody like that?

Even so, as a potential investor, you
might reasonably want to know whether
you'll make any money investing in Sam-
son. And you have a choice:

You can read the three-page analysis
from the bank.

You can read the colorful six-page Sam-
son brochure.

Or you can read the 165-page prospec-
tus.

I know most of you would lunge for the
prospectus, but let's start with thc bro-
сћиге.

Under the heading PRIOR PROGRAM
PERFORMANCE, the brochure explains that
by mid-1984, “Samson’s 1973-198] pro-
grams had distributed cash equal to 127
percent of total cash invested” and would
distribute a further 226 percent over the
life of those programs.

The brochure says you shouldn’t count
on future programs’ all doing so well, but,
hey, 127 percent and 226 percent—that's
like three and a half times your money
back! Plus, U.S. Trust likes the program
and Samson must be getting more experi-
enced each year and drilling costs are
really low these days and the Samson guys
themselves are committed to investing in
the deal and boy could I ever use the tax
deduction where do I sign?

"The brochure does say, “These figures
assume an equal investment in each of the
programs offered from 1973 through
1981,” but that sounds sensible enough.

So much for the brochure.

Now let me tell you how to read an oil-and-
gas-deal prospectus:

1. Find the table of contents.

2. Find the page that shows the driller’s
track record (PRIOR PERFORMANCE Or FRIOR
ACTIVITIES).

3. Look for the column that shows how

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much actual cash investors in past deals
have received.

4. Compare that with how much they
actually invested.

5. End of story.

Says one prominent tax accountant who
would steer clear of Samson (and most
other oil-and-gas deals), “If their average
program isn’t paying back in three years,
forget it.”

In Tulsa-based Samson's case, it turns
out that its very first program, a teeny-tiny
deal in 1973 that involved a total of just
$325,000, has paid off like gang-
busters—around nine to one. But all its
subsequent programs, ranging from three
to 30 times as big, have had less spectacu-
lar results.

(Funny how often that first deal, which
helps sell all subsequent deals, is a lot
more successful than the rest.)

So, in the first place, if you didn't
assume “an equal investment in cach of
the programs” but, instead, assumed the
amounts that were actually invested, the
return on those 1973-1981 programs by
mid-1984 would have been not 127
percent—all your money back and then
some—but 45 percent.

Now, ГИ grant that’s extreme. The
newer deals have had fewer years to pro-
duce revenues than the older ones, and
Samson's deals got bigger and bigger as
the years went on. So my number, a 45
percent pay back, is heavily weighted
toward the 1980 and 1981 d Of the
$30,000,000 that investors handed Samson
in 1981—not to mention the $70,000,000
ice then—less than $1,000,000 had been
paid back by September 30, 1984.

Of the three 1980 deals (one private,
two public), onc had paid back 74 percent
by September 30, 1984, two had paid back
17 percent and nine percent, respectively.
Guess which one was the private deal.

And, understand, these numbers are not
return on investment (with luck, that
comes later); they're return of investment.

Ifthere were ac in the room—and 1
trust there's not—he might suggest that
Samson raised $100,000,000 in drilling
investments from 1981 through 1984 not
unimportantly on the strength of one
crummy little $325,000 program it had
drilled ten years earlier.

If so, it would by no means be the only
oil-and-gas promoter that had followed
the same pattern.

It also leads one to wonder whether that
first little program was of the same con-
servative character as the ones being pre-
sented now. Perhaps it was riskier—and
one of those risks paid off. And it leads one
to remember that that first deal had the
benefit of two-dollar-a-barrel-era drilling
costs—the deal actually closed at the end
of 1972—but 20-odd-dollar-a-barrel-era
revenues, Certainly, its success bears no
resemblance to any of the subsequent
deals.

Having said all this, I hasten to add that
there are many drilling companies whose
records are at least as uninspired (any-
body else out there in a Buckeye deal?),
and that Samson's 1973-1981 programs
still have a lot of hydrocarbons in the
ground.

You will recall that according to the bro-
chure, those deals are projected to return.
vet a further 226 percent of investors
money. Oh, OK, so maybe it's 220 percent
or 215 percent—it's still pretty good, no?

For all I know, the programs will gush
aplenty. But according to the prospectus,
that 226 percent is based on the assump-
tion that oil will continue (contin:
sell for $29.50 through the end of 1986 and
then climb over the following 16 years to
$75 a barrel. (“It should be noted,” notes
the prospectus, “that no consideration has
been given to recent price declines.”)

But суеп using these assumptions—
which might be considered just a smidge
optimistic—that 226 percent still leans
pretty heavily on the first teeny-tiny pro-
ram. Dropping that onc from the calcula-
n brings the estimated future return
from these programs not to 226 percent
but to 147 percent

Nor does either of these numbers—the
35 percent of their money investors have
gotten back over the past several years or
the additional 147 percent they might
hope to reap as oil climbs to $75—take
into consideration the extra five percent
you might have paid a bank for bringing
this opportunity your way, nor the time
value of money. Doubling your money in
oil and gas sounds great until you consider

[7

that it might take 15 years to do it

Yes, oil-and-gas investments are largely
deductible; but so arc oil-and-gas revenues
largely taxable (and likely to become more
so).

Now that you've listened to all
my carping—exactly the kind of negative
attitude that did no! make this country
great—if you still want to pony up
$26,250 for a $25,000 unit in Samson
‚ and you've got diamonds and a

у . (Please, oh, please, let it remain
my bank after it reads this.) Onc of the
nice things about going through the bank
(and it actually is a very fine bank, which I
actually owe a lot of money) is that you get
the benefit of its independent analysis.

“In addition to the information соп-
tained in the enclosed Offering Prospectus,
supplied by [Samson], writes the bank in
its cover letter, “certain other facts should
be made known to you.

Oh, boy: the dirt.

“In particular, our analysis has estab-
lished” Samson's competence and
qualifications, the equitability of the deal,
Samson's drilling philosophy and its track
record.

Inder TRACK RECORD, the bank states,
“Through June 30, 1984, Samson's
1973-1981 programs have distributed
cash equal to 127 percent of total cash
invested and had estimated future
cash distributions equal to 226 percent of
cash invested.” Period.

Somebody at U.S.
read the prospectus.

‘Trust should have

“Hey, Pm really sorry, but these days,
I'm finding that there are fewer and fewer things worth
going to the mat for.”

258

PLAYBOY

260

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(continued from page 120)
into the courtroom. Eight and ten years
old. Her lawyers used everything. Her
group—you know, the psychiatrist's group
with all those embittered women—they
sent her to those lawyers, and they were
relentless. They were tough.”

“You should have been tough, 1 mean
tough,” Bertrand said. “I was tough. I had
to be tough. I even got the car.”

Mac didn’t say anything to Bertrand.
His eyes closed, he breathed heavily into
the mouthpiece.

“Hey, how do you feel?” Bertrand said
аћег a moment of silence. “Listen, I mean,
how do you feel?”

“Well——” Mac gave a choking cough
at the telephone and hung up. Big help.

Late the next morning, around 11, he
telephoned for a radio taxi. Twenty min-
utes, the dispatcher said. Time for
Tropicana, oatmeal, Maxim. Dutiful hab-
its die hard. Standing at the window, sip-
ping the coffee, he checked on life across
the way. The shades of the baby’s room
were drawn. Naptime. The newly reno-
vated apartment had been moved into.
Packing crates, an upright piano, inverted
lamp shades, rolled-up rugs, cartons, back
of sofa against back of armchair. What a
mess. No people. No sign of any woman in
a gold-colored warm-up suit. Only a large
white cat and a golden retriever. Mac
could see them running from room to
room, Good luck to them. Time to go to
work. The taxi from Chelsea to Long
Island City cost $14. The hell with it.
Business as usual. Lite Boxcs, Inc. The
business of making boxes, some of card-
board, some of wood, some of cardboard
and wood. A solid business. He owned a
five-story building, with his shop right on
the premises. Fifty-six people, including a
secretary, an engineer of sorts and a book-
keeper, right on the premises, too. Not
bad. His ex-wife, thank God, had not had
much to do with the business since their
marriage, before which she had been his
bookkeeper. The business brought in
enough to pay for the house, the car, the
private schools, the camps, the coun-
try club, the remodeled kitchen, the
psychiatrist, the group, going away, the
lawyers, the alimony and the smelly apart-
ment.

When Mac walked into the building,
everybody was very nice to him, address-
ing him as “Boss” and seeming to under-
stand what he had just been through. He
felt more distant than ever from his
employees. Usually, Mac stayed at the
business until after five, after everybody
else had left for the day. He liked locking
up. Today, he couldn’t stand sitting at his
desk. He looked at his watch. Three-
thirty. The kids would be getting home
from school. Instead of going outside to
ride their bikes on the side roads or to play
in the woods, they would, for some screw-
ball reason, be getting rushed into some
scheduled painting-class program or to the

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PLAYBOY

262

psychiatrist. They had never responded
when Mac had tried to get them interested
in feeding the birds. One winter morning,
when he had been in a great rush to get to
the business, he had forgotten to give the
birds their crumbs. That evening, when
he got home, three chickadees and the
red-headed woodpecker were sitting on
the deck, still waiting for him. His wife
had listened to the story with impatience.
The kids hadn’t even wanted to listen.
Too bad.

His secretary had placed a stack of
accumulated mail on his desk. He went
through it slowly, marking instructions for
replies on paper slips from his memo pad,
LIGHTS LITES, and clipping them to the let-
ters. Deftly, he threw out pieces of mail he
didn't want to answer—the pleas from
charity organizations, the announcements
about software and computers, a come-on
to buy lakeland acreage in Missouri, a
solicitation from a trade magazine for an
ad. What was this? An invitation to a
party being given that evening for one of
his steady customers, Springer Toys, a
company that bought at least $10,000 a
year in boxes for the toys. For years,
Springer had given him free toys for the
kids. Mac threw the invitation into his
wastebasket. Almost immediately, he
retrieved it. A party given for, not by,
Springer. Unusual. Mac read:

WE HOPE YOU САМ JOIN USON BOARD THE
55. HOLMENSFJORD

FOR A PARTY BEING GIVEN FOR OUR CLIENT
SPRINGER TOYS, INC
ТО CELEBRATE THE INTRODUCTION OF
JEEVESOBOT
THE AMAZING ROBOT SERVANT
COCKTAILS, BUFFET AND DANCING

The invitation was from a public-rela-
tions firm with a Madison Avenue
address, an R.S.V.P. number and the
name of the PR representative in charge
of the party: Connie. Mac telephoned.
Connie's voice was high-pitched, bored.
She told him to come carly. He waited an
hour and then took a taxi—$14 again—
over to 49th Street and the Hudson River,
where the 5.5. Holmensfjord, a cruise
ship, was docked.

Joe Springer, president of Springer
Toys, was in the reception salon with his
wife, his three 40ish sons and their wives,
his sister, his brother-in-law and a couple
of cousins, all officers or employees of the
company. All of them were obviously very
happy with one another. All of them were
heavy-set, friendly and in love with their
toys. Jeevesobot was on display in the
salon—a butler robot sprinkled with lights
and buttons and programmed to sweep,
hammer, walk sideways, carry a tray and
pour a drink. Springer was ecstatic about
Jeevesobot's sales.

"He's a Cabbage Patch-type hot item,
Mac, and he’s only $24.95,” Springer said.
“He'll need plenty of boxes, Mac.”

“I won't complain," Mac said

“Connie's pointing the way,” Springer
said. He put his arm around the young PR
woman, who was looking at him and his.
relatives with measured approval. She was
about 35, with eyelashes so heavy with
black paint that she regarded Mac with
half-closed eyes. She was more dressed up
than anyone else at the party, with a very
short—above the knees—black-silk dress
with tiers of ruffles and a crazily low front
exposing three fourths of her breasts. On
her head, perched sideways, was a broad-
brimmed Toulouse-Lautrec hat.

"We're doing a video featuring
Jeevesobot,” Connie said to Mac. "We're
doing a book. And we're talking a comic
strip. We're talking a Saturday-morning
TV cartoon.”

“See what I mean?” Springer said joy-
ously.

“This is the send-off,” Connie said.

“That's what I mean,” Springer said.
“АП this: ” He waved at the adjoining
salon: round tables seating six or ten,
beautifully set for a feast, with Jeevesobot
as the centerpiece on every table; three
bars, each attended by white-jacketed
stewards; a long buffet with ЕЕ апа
platters of all sizes, filled with still-

_ untouched mounds of nourishment; a five-

piece dance orchestra, instruments poised
at the ready, to one side of a circular mar-
ble dance floor in the center of the salon;
and stacks and stacks of Jeevesobots wait-

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ing to come out of Mac's own Lite Boxes

“Big names are coming,” Connic said in
her bored voice. “Vice-presidents of en-
ent of all three networks. Video
bidding for the video. Bjorn Borg
is coming with his new girlfriend. A
representative of Cardinal O'Connor. Edu-
cators. Pediatricians. Simon & Schuster.
Borough president Andy Stein, with his
wife, who's pregnant. He's here.”

A waiter came over, offering glasses of
champagne on a tray. Mac took a glass

“And everybody goes home with a
Jecvesobot,” Springer said. “Two or three
for people with kids.” He winked at Mac

“Well, actually —” Mac said.

“Do you like the environment?” Connie
said, apparently not hearing Mac and
seeming to ask the question of the buffet
table or maybe of the stacked boxes. Mac
tried to catch her eye. No success. Oh,
well. In a way, that was restful. He
snatched another glass of champagne from
a passing tray.

“She means the ship,” Springer said.
“Nobody ever had a party given for them
ship. This is a first.”

“A first for you,” Connie said. “A first
for this ship. But not for me. I’ve given
parties on the Intrepid, on the Sagafjord,
on the Queen, on a lot. I give a lot of par-
ties. Yesterday, I did Beto Tri Hi, the new
video sound, in the Rainbow Room.
Everybody went home with a video.”

“Eat, drink and be merry,” Springer

said. “Excuse me. 1 want to say hello to
our main pediatrician.”

Mac tried to edge closer to the buffet.
He was very hungry. What a spread.
What a nice, quick way to get dinner over
with. But Connie took his arm and steered
him to a waiter with champagne. Mac
took another glass.

“] want you to meet my Vital Video
people,” Connie told him. “In case you
want to make a video about your boxes.”

In a rush, Mac started telling Connie
how he began making boxes as an offshoot
of his father’s lumber business, how he
traveled to forest areas, timing the trips to
include going away with his now-ex-wile
and kids. He laughed nervously, telling
Connie it was now all over with his ex-
wife. He noticed, as he talked, that she
never once looked at him. He couldn't
even tell if she was listening to him. She
seemed to be searching to find out who
was there, The less she looked at him the
faster he talked, telling her that he went to
very interesting paper conventions and
wood conventions in places like Scotts
dale, Arizona, and Monterey, California,
and Portland, Oregon, and even to Europe
and Disney World

Connie seemed to have spotted the peo-
ple she was looking for.

"Sec you," she said to Mac. “I want you
on my mailing list.”

“Light is getting lit,” Mac called out
after her with a nervous laugh

Without turning around, she waved the

back of her hand to him.

What a reli. Now he could cat in
peace. She was an interesting young
woman, but she had her work to do. At the
buffet, finishing his champagne, he started
with open sandwiches, Norwegian style, of
smoked salmon and baby shrimps. With
another glass of champagne, he munched
on sticks of celery, carrots and zucchini
"Thank God he didn't have to talk to any-
body. Swedish meatballs. Tiny breasts of
what seemed to be fried chicken. He didn’t
have to smile or pretend to smile. One of
the stewards was slicing a large roast beef.
It looked wonderful. He remembered the
roast-beef dinners at home, at his now-ex-
home. He had never been able to taste the
meat; he had just downed it. At this
moment, he could taste what he was look
ing at without even taking it. There was
also a tremendous salad bow! spilling over
with just the kind of greenery he loved.
With a plate of roast beef in one hand and
a plate overflowing with salad in the other,
he headed across the marble dance floor
toward a round table to sit down. The
salon was crowded now. The orchestra
was playing The Anniversary Waltz. All of
the Springers were dancing, all happily
with one another. As Mac made his way
past them, each and every Springer told
him to enjoy himself

Connie was sitting at a table with a
young man who had on a maroon-velvet
tuxcdo-type jacket over a white turtleneck
shirt and blue jeans. As Mac sat down, the

263

PLAYBOY

264

young man left

“He wants to do sixty seconds on
Jeevesobot for E.T.,” Connie said.

“Everybody likes the toy,” Mac said.
He could hear his voice offin what seemed
like a distance.

“Yeah,” Connie said. “I’m talking min-
utes. I'm talking two minutes."

“It’s very nice to have a party for the
toy," Мас said.

"We've got a great gimmick coming
up," Connie said. "Some dancers are com-
ing out wearing Jeevesobot costumes,
pretending to be the robot, and they'll
do a dance, sweeping, bowing, pouring
drinks—everything in the dance format.
Five dancers. No, six, because they have to
have partners.”

She went off in search of something.
Mac tasted the roast beef. It had gotten а
little. cold, but it was still delicious. The
salad, too, was delicious, with Italian
dressing. Just right. One of the best meals
of his life.

Springer came over and sat down. One
happy fella. Mac almost resented the in-
trusion. He put down his fork.

“Andy Stein's wife is here,” Springer
said. “Paul Simon's brother is here.”

The dancers dressed as Jeevesobots
came out and danced. At the end of their
dance, they poured wine for the people
seated at tables—red or white. Mac had a
couple of glasses of each. Then he went to
the dessert table and returned to his seat
carrying a huge slab of strawberry short-
cake surrounded by multicolored petits
fours. Then black coffee. Three cups of
black coffee.

One of Springers sons put him into
a taxi, handing him two Jeevesobots as

he left.

“One for each arm,” the son said

“How about one of the big, dancing live
ones?" Мас said.

The next day, he quickly checked on life
across the street while getting dressed.
Shades drawn. Naptime again. In the
newly renovated apartment, Мас saw the
slender woman in the gold-colored warm-
up suit. She was putting clothes into a
bedroom closet. The dog was wandering
around. The white cat was on the bed.
Progress. Mac skipped breakfast. Out
with dutiful habits. Out. Out.

He took a taxi to Lite Boxes. His secre-
tary handed him a message: CALL CONNIE.
He called. Connie invited him to a party
she was giving two nights later at Studio
54 in honor of Break Dancers Popcorn, a
new brand being brought out by some
rock group. Mac didn’t catch their name.
He told Connie he would be there. There
would be popcorn, drinks, dinner and
dancing, and Connie was giving every-
body a present ofa little popcorn machine
i ition to Break Dancers Popcorn.
ight. Connie said, she was
doing a big one at the Pierre, formal, for a
model agency. Dinner at nine. And a week
from tonight, she was giving a party in
SoHo honoring a new kind of nonfattening
beer, with elaborate foods to drink it down
with. He considered calling his ex-wife to
find out if the kids might be available to go
with him to the popcorn party, but he
didn’t. Anyway, he didn’t want to have to
go out and pick up the kids at the house.

Everything was falling into place. Even
those damn birds. By now, they would
probably have found another feeder.

“Now, remember, Bruce, nice guys finish last.”

BOYS NIGHT OUT

(continued from page 134)
at Duke will supply the answers.

To tide you over until Duke reports in,
though, here are some speculations:

ATHIRST FOR DANGER

Staying in your house is risky enough.
Don’t most accidents take place there? But
cleaning out an oven will do little to
quench a man's innate thirst for danger.
And home injuries lack cachet. Rarely are
banquets held for the man with lower-back
pain. Few will rise to applaud those with
lobster-pick wounds. The noble injury is
to be found outside. Only by venturing
into the night can a man come up with a
chewed-off ear.

ANEED TO EXPLORE.

Kafka suggests there is no need to trav-
el. There are safaris enough in one's head.
But that was Kafka talking, a brilliant yet
troubled Jew. Most men have a need to
carve out new territories. The Shenandoah
Valley has been picked clean, California is
settled and more or less part of the
country—but there are still plenty of
unexplored saloons out there.

FELLOWSHIP.

Men crave the company of other men.
And мете not just talking gay-coalition
workers here. War is the perfect solution,
of course, but there just aren’t any worth
bothering about at the moment. It’s a nui-
sance to become a contra—all those appli-
cations to fill out. And does anyone really
want to sit around campfires with Somoza
cronies? Boys’ Night Out—B.N.O.—is
onc of the few remaining institutions that
allow men to gather together in camarade-
rie and do what they really yearn to do,
discuss other great B.N.O.s.

APPRECIATION OF THE HOME

Home is the most excellent of places to
be, but not if you're in it all the time. Only
by leaving and risking death now and then
can a man return and truly appreciate
what he's got there.

All dissection to the contrary,
B.N.O. tradition continues, as deeply
grained in the American character as fear
of outsiders and envy of another's success.

What follows are some guidelines for the
beginning Boys’ Night Outer and some
brusb-up techniques for veterans.

Most men feel more comfortable with a
regularly scheduled B.N.O. “Marge and 1
have an arrangement. [Big wink] Wednes-
day's my night out with the guys." Other,
more spontaneous types will wait until the
urge is upon them. But it’s important to
act on that urge and not go around smash-
ing lamps in frustration. Some planning is
useful, though the fellow who spends long
hours mapping out his every move will

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PLAYBOY

256

tend to be an unsatisfactory companion
throughout the week. Generally speaking,
it’s the reliable-everyday Fun Guy who
has an easier time pulling off his weekly
escapade.

Choice of companions is a key ingredi-
ent in a satisfying B.N.O. Someone who's
just lost a loved one can hardly be counted
on to pick up the evening. The same is true
of an otherwise engaging fellow who is out
on bail. Picking up friends along the way is
a possibility, as long as large groups of
them aren't invited home at the end of the
evening. The best partner is an even-tem-
pered type who can be counted on to hus-
tle you outside when you’ve contradicted a
linebacker.

And, of course, there is always the op-
tion of venturing out alone. Sealed lips. No
witnesses. No one to change his mind at
some later date and testify that he saw you
cross-dressing with a bag lady.

As the big night approaches, a certain
tension will begin to build. The fledgling
B.N.O. man will be tempted to throw up
his hands and say, “It’s no use, Rhoda, I
can’t go through with it. Warm up the
lasagna.” Can Rhoda be faulted if she fails
to rally his spirit? Veteran hell raisers
know that pregame jitters are only natural.
The very act of competing in your first
coed mud-wrestling bout of the night will
serve to chase away fears.

Old-line B.N.O. men are aware, too, of

the importance of starting in low gear.
Downing a quart of margaritas in the Ну-
ing room may be an interesting notion in
and of itself; but why leave the fight in the
dressing room?

At the moment of departure, a little dis-
cretion is advised. Cries of “Free again!
Free at last!” before уоште out of the
driveway will reduce your standing and do
little to enhance the evening. Rebel howls
should be suppressed until you're safely
around the corner.

What type of activities make for a suc-
cessful B.N.O.? The beginner will have a
tendency to be upscale, which isn’t neces-
sary. Attending a viola recital may impress
a few friends but is hardly the stuff of a
rousing night on the town. Nor is there a
need to be excessively macho. A night at
а dwarf-throwing contest may turn out to
be less gratifying than it first appears.
There’s no reason why a happy medium
can't be struck—somewhere between
attendance at the Stuttgart Ballet and
cockfighting in Spanish Harlem. Then,
too, it’s best to avoid trying to crowd in too
many activities. Dashing back and forth
from lingerie shows to demolition derbies
can only result in frustration. Better to
lower your sights a bit and focus on a sin-
gle activity. A few reels of Prison Enema
can serve nicely as an amusing centerpiece
for a low-key yet thoroughly’ satisfying
B.N.O.

•

Here are some additional guidelines:

+ Limit your access to cash and credit
As the evening spins along, you will tend
to become more and more generous. Only
on rare occasions will that impulse be
turned toward the relief of cyclone victims
in Bangladesh. So be on guard. Buying a
round of drinks at an S/M bar is one thing;
it's quite another to wake up and find that
you've installed a runaway in a condo.

* Try to work in a bit of dinner along the
way. А seven-course meal isn't neces-
sary—just a light bite. Spirits and other
substances will be absorbed more readily
into thc blood stream if they are deposited
on a bed of linguine. As to substances in
general, avoid making purchases from
anyone named Raoul who works out of a
hedge in the park. A B.N.O. that ends
with calls home from the Betty Ford Reha-
bilitation Center can hardly be called a
triumph.

* Touch and embrace as little as possible
of anything, be it human or otherwise.
These are trying times in that department,
with new and unattractive strains arriving
from the Far East on an almost daily basis.
None can be counteracted by а brisk
shower. Softened by domestic life, pam-
pered by loved ones, the B.N.O. man is a
perfect target for all things sinister.

= At some point in the evening, you will
be seized by an impulse to share some of

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your adventures and insights with your
beloved:

The single most warmhearted group of
Americans is to be found at Vinnie's After-
Hours.

Midtown sex clubs have been given a bad
name by the media.

A girl named Trudy has miraculously
cured your lower-back pain. And she’s barely
out of her teens.

If you feel that these findings should be
immortalized, jot them down on a napkin.
But think twice before phoning them in.

• Somewhat further along, yet another,
more unfortunate sensation may take hold,
characterized by a feeling of worthlessness
and a need to cry ош, "I'm no good!
That's all there is to it! Someone please
kill те!" Don’t be alarmed. There’s по
need to rush out and join a monastic order.
A momentary pang of guilt is to be
expected, too. Put in perspective, it can
actually spice up an evening. The indisere-
tions that appear to be so excessive at the
moment will seem only mildly disgraceful
in the cold light of day. Others before you
have tangoed with a transsexual. Yet West-
ern civilization has remained inta

* Go home late. But do go home. Taking
а punk rocker to Caracas for a few months
violates the B.N.O. spirit. No matter how
remorseful, the transgressor is unlikely to
be greeted sympathetically on his return.

* When to call a halt to the merrymak-
ing? The appearance of cleanup crews at a
disco is one sign that it’s time to get going.
Begging them to join you in a final night-
cap is unattractive. A wise rule is to make
your departure before daybreak. The sight
of stockbrokers on their way to work in the
morning will do little for your self-esteem.

•

Аз ће wends his way home, many а
desperate B.N.O. man will be impelled to
risk all on a final, erratic throw of the dice,
perhaps by propositioning a school guard
Such desperate measures, no matter how
well intentioned, can only end in disaster.
Better to retire from the field gracefully
and fight again another day.

Revived by the warmth of his cozy
household, the returning hell raiser may
be tempted to rouse his ladylove and sug-
gest that she slip into a harem costume. A
little discretion is called for at this point.
After all, part of the arrangement is that
she has gotten to enjoy a Girls’ Night In.
One ofits many pleasures is a good night's
sleep. She may be preparing for a B
of her own; a G.N.O., which, sadly
enough, becomes more cricket with each
passing day. Better to collapse on the

couch and get a jump on your гесирега-
tion

At breakfast, the neophyte B.N.O. man
may feel a need to deliver a blow-by-blow
account of the previous night’s activities,

though none is required. Nor are tall tales
helpful. To insist that you've spent the
night thumbing through a friend’s stamp
collection will convince no one and will
reduce your standing. A sympathetic
mate, wise in the ways of the world, wants
only to know that you haven’t driven the
car into a monument.

The wise Boys’ Night Outer learns to
pace himself, A little rest after a sybaritic
activity can only sharpen the appetite for
others to follow. He recognizes little signs
of overindulgence, such as dizziness and
vomiting. He respects the feelings of oth-
ers, particularly those who are bigger and
stronger. He never barges into places
where he is clearly not wanted, such as
Latvian social clubs. And he has learned
that no one will question his masculinity if
he decides to cancel at the last minute and
stay home. Such selfless behavior can lead
to back-to-back B.N.O.s at some future
date.

Once the technique is perfected, there is
no reason the B.N.O. cannot become a
lifelong pleasure. Other sports carry the
risk of some debilitating injury, but there’s
no such thing as Boys’ Night Out Knee.
Those who have failed to take full advan-
tage of this delightful pastime should
hurry to do so before it is stamped out.

smoke

please try Carlton.

PLAYBOY

SEX STARS (continued from page 177)

“A small horde has headed for the hitching post.
There’s clearly a danger of overdosing on rice.”

that more celebrities have been joined in
matrimony during the past year than in
any other single period in the past two
decades. Sure, this is breaking a few hearts
among their young fans (and among a few
older lechers hoping the odds of free love
would still bring one or two movie stars
their way), but thats the way it always has
been. Did Elvis pass up Priscilla? Did Eddie
duck Liz? Did Mickey Rooney . . . enough of
that; you get the point.

Granted, this year's matrimonial re-
surgence was not without its surprises. For
commercial reasons, if nothing else, it was
easy to see why Madonna would choose a
Like a Virgin motif for her oceanside wed-
ding to surly Sean Penn. But that volumi-
nous veil was another matter. Even
allowing for tradition and some maidenly
pretense at mystery, it was a bit hard to
understand what Madonna hoped to hide,
since just before her wedding she had been
featured in PLavBov and elsewhere without
the veil or anything else. But as the sun
sank over the Pacific, the union of Mr, and
Mrs. Penn was touching, except perhaps
for the six helicopters full of photogra-
phers hovering overhead, (То make the
editing of the evening news interesting, a
thoughtful neighbor wrote FUCK You in six-
foot letters on the beach below

Less exciting but no less significant was
the wedding of Bruce Springsteen and ac-
tress/model Julianne Phil in the wee
hours of the morning in her Oregon
church; they managed to evade the press
pack completely. After all his bachelor
boasts, Bruce’s matrimonial urge was a bit
surprising, even to the bride’s parents, but
he wore а coat and tie to their first meeting
to put them at ease. They were addition-
ally impressed when they learned that he
doesn't drink or smoke and gives money to
charities. Julianne’s father even said
Springsteen was а swell fellow. Ah, doesn’t
anyone remember that rock took its name
from those things fathers threw at any
musician who came near their daughters?

During the past year, a small horde has
headed for the hitching post. Among them:
Christie Brinkley and Billy Joel; Bette Midler
and commodities broker Martin von
Heselberg; Jamie Lee Curtis and Christopher
Guest; Olivia Newton-John and Ман Lattanzi
(at last); Chorlene Tilton and Domenick Allen;
Moriel Hemingway and club manager Steve
Crisman; Sally Field and producer Alan
Greismon; George Peppard and Alexis Adams
(his fourth, her first); Christopher Atkins and
Australian model Lynne Barron.

There's clearly a danger here of over-
dosing on rice, but making two hearts beat
as one is at least an improvement over last
ycar's outbreak of androgyny, the vain

attempt to make one heart beat as two.
Michael Jackson and even Prince faded from
view for a time, prompting Andy Warhol to
wonder if he'd been wrong in predicting a
few years ago that someday everyone
would be world-famous for 15 minutes.
With increased compctition, cach may get
less exposure, Warhol ventured. "There
are more people now. So I guess there are
more celebrities, so they have less time.”

We warned in these very pages as far
back as 1980 that celebrities were being
consumed at an alarming rate, but we
offered assurance that the truly sexy had
staying power and, sure enough, Tina Turner
has returned. In addition to her records
and concerts, Turner roared to raves in
Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome, with Меј
Gibson. Tina says she’s still searching for
the man who’s so ugly, he’s pretty.

With Apollonia (Kotero) and Vanity
(Matthews) no longer at his side, Prince
maintained his arch distance—as far
in fact, as the south of France, where
he’s reported to be working up a sequel to
Purple Rain. On her own, Vanity turned
out a naughty single, Pretty Mess, and a
nice layout in рілувоу?ѕ May issue, But
Apollonia proved equally interesting,
splitting from a secret husband, Greg Pat-
schull, who said she had proposed on their
first date, while she was still an unknown,
then kept him hidden after getting her big
break in Purple Rain. Patschull said they
had both grown up in San Pedro, Califor-
nia, where hc remembered her as a fat lit-
tle girl with blonde hair.”

Speaking of blondes, which Apolloni;
no more, and of celebs with sexy sticking
power, Britt Ekland, who certainly is both,
married Stray Cats drummer Jim McDonnell
and discovered that they wear the same
size-five trousers. She also found out that
he’s nearly 20 years younger and likes to
watch The Flintstones on TV while she
putters around the house. Not quite the
same as her previous flings with Warren
Beatty and Rod Stewart or her marriage to
Peter Sellers, but McDonnell has more tat-
1005. (Another old favorite, Cher, acquired
a tattoo but no husband, which may be
more efficient.) Britt and Jim are even
talking about having children, which
seems to be another curious by-product of
sex stardom these days. Model Jerry Holl
added a son to her unwed family with Mick
Jogger (Mick’s had three daughters by as
many women, but now that he has a boy,
he’s talking marriage). Forrah Fawcett had
а son by boyfriend Ryan O'Neal. Steven
Spielberg and Amy Irving had a little instant
millionaire out of wedlock. Jessica Longe
and boyfriend Som Shepard are now
expecting her second without benefit of

is

clergy (daughter Alexandra is Mikhail
Boryshnikov's). And although her relation-
ship with Don (Miami Vice) Johnson was
rumored rocky, Patti D'Arbanville made
sure little son Jesse frequently journeyed
from California to keep Dad company in
La na, where he was filming the ТУ
miniseries The Long Hot Summer. Other
new and adoring dads include Dynasty's
Michael Nader (married a month before the
birth) and The Purple Rose of Cairo's Jeff
Doniels (wed five years).

Even such longtime bachelors as Richard
Gere were running amuck with diapers in
their dreams. “I think that something hap-
pens when you get to 35,” Gere mused.
“You start saying to yourself, ‘Hmmmm,
that wouldn't be bad at all, holding your
own little kid and going "Goo-goo"" '
When you're 20 . . . you think someone
should be going ‘Goo-goo’ to you.”

Much less sentimental after a 22-hour
labor, new mom Pia Zadora said she adores
her daughter but doesn’t do diapers.
“Well, I did change one when I was posing
tor the Daily News. That was my first dia-
per, and my last.”

Sometimes, unfortunately, a lot of guff
goes with the goo-goos. Director William
(The Exorcist, The French Connection)
Friedkin finally agreed to share custody of
his son with Lesley-Anne Dawn in a divorce
action that drew lurid coverage by the
British tabloids, hovering by closed court-
rooms, where the actress grew faint from
Friedkin’s flailings about alcohol problems
and a string of lovers, all denied by her
attorney, famed divorce lawyer Marvin
Mitchelson.

Lorenzo Lomas also went through a messy
divorce suit with second wife Michele Smith,
with baby A.J. in the middle. The Falcon
Crest heartthrob admitted to a cocaine
addiction, since kicked. Lamas himself, of
course, is the issue of a famed acting cou-
ple, late father Fernando and Arlene Dahl,
and stepson of Esther Williams, making him
one of the more visible representatives of a
growing group of famous offspring who are
very busy.

Raquel Welch's daughter, Tahnee, enjoyed
her first film hit, Cocoon. Tony Curtis and
Janet Leigh's daughter Jamie Lee Curtis
muscled into Perfect, with John Trovalta,
setting off more celebrity worship among
the fan magazines than among the fans.

A founding member of the Brat Pack,
Emilio Estevez (son of Martin Sheen) doesn’t
always get the girl in such films as St.
Elmo's Fire and The Breakfast Club, but he:
usually gets good reviews, as did Tommy
Chong's daughter Roe Dawn in American
Flyers. Greg Morris' handsome son Phil is
now a soap regular on The Young and the
Restless. Laura Dern, daughter of Bruce Dern
and Dione lodd, received considerable
notice in a small part as a blind girl in
Mask, competing for attention with Cher
and Eric Stoltz. Born to Connie Stevens only
two months before dad Eddie Fisher left
home, teenaged Tricia Fisher landed one
week's work with Burt Reynolds in Stick, a

“Good heavens, no, I'm not the real president—I'm just the president

on the TV commercials.”

269

PLAYBOY

film that didn't. The late actor Vic Morrow's
daughter, Jennifer Jason Leigh, was a hit as
a good girl in 1982's Fast Times at Ridge-
mont High but is now playing a hooker in
The Men's Club and a more-than-
cooperative captive in Flesh & Blood.
Madonna’s co-star in Desperately Seeking
Susan, Rosanna Arquette, is the pretty
granddaughter of the late comic actor Cliff
Arquette. Seon Connery's son Jason nabbed
the lead in a British TV series, Robin of
Sherwood. Budding actress Kote Burton,
daughter of the late Richord, appeared with
Dad in the miniseries Ellis Island and got
married to stage producer Michoel Ritchie.
Nostassjo Kinski, the daughter of actor
Klaus, wed Ibrohim Mousso after the birth of
their son; since, she’s been busy making
Harem and Revolution. Another experi-
enced young star, Tatum O'Neal, turned 21
and moved in with tennis tyrant John
McEnroe. Daughter of Ryan, step-
something of his girlfriend Farrah Fawcett
and half sister of their previously men-
tioned baby boy, Tatum was a bomb in an
el cheapo picture, Certain. Fury, raising
questions about the promising career she
appeared to have ahead of her when she
won an Oscar at the age of ten.

It isn't always easy for children of the
famous, as Tyrone Power's daughter Taryn
recently bemoaned. An affair with musi-
cian Tony Fox Soles, son of comedian Soupy
Sales, cost Power her marriage to photog-
rapher Norman Seeff. Trying to rebuild a
career in Hollywood, Power has found
poor pickings. “I talked about this to Rory
Flynn, Errol's daughter. . . . We said, ‘It’s
bizarre. We're the daughters of who we
are, and we can't get a job in this town.” "

Sylvester Stollone, the big fellow with по
famous parents, climbed back on top with
the runaway hit Rambo, another character

who can compete with Rocky Balboa, so
he doesn’t have to co-star with Dolly Parton
in musicals between boxing pictures.

Always aspiring to new artistic heights,
Stallone found a new fiancée in Brigitte
Nielsen, who’s two inches taller than he is.
That, of course, means he’s left wife Sasha
again. And Gitte had to leave a husband
(and child) at home in Denmark, but
that’s happened before, too. To recapitu-
late for forgetful readers, when Stallone
took a fancy to tall golden girl Suson Anton
in 1979, she split from husband Jack Stein,
then found diminutive Dudley Moore on the
rebound from Sly. Most recently, Anton
abandoned Moore and has been dating
chemicals heir Jomie DuPont, and Sasha
and Sly are in the divorce courts.

A former model, Nielsen unveiled her-
self for pLaysoy in September, too late to
save her film debut in Red Sonja, opposite
Arnold Schwarzenegger. Schwarzenegger
had more success in real life, getting
engaged to pretty newscaster Moria Shriver,
whom he took home to meet Mother in
Austria. Мапа is another famous off-
spring, a Kennedy-clan daughter of Sor-
gent and Eunice Kennedy Shriver and cousin
to John Kennedy, Jr., who made his showbiz
debut in an off-off-Broadway play.

Another lovely European model, Kelly
LeBrock, starred in onc ћи film for husband
Victor Drai, The Woman in Red, followed by
a flop, Weird Science, losing hubby in the
process. Having better luck, Sovict defec-
tor Alexander Godunov added a smashing
film debut in Witness to his ballet tri-
umphs, at the same time holding on to Joc-
queline Bisset, who still resists marriage.

Content to co-star with Tina Turner and
take in more Mad Max moncy, Mel Gib-
son remained quietly out of sight down
under, while Chuck Norris, getting plaudits

"Thats it? That's what marriage is all about —
if she washes, you dry?"

for a change for Code of Silence, still
insisted he hated taking time from karate
kicks and gunplay to do interviews.

Fortunately, Jamaican Groce Jones
didn't mind the press, intimidating re-
porters every where to plug her appearance
in the James Bond film A View to a Kill.
Inspecting what she called "just the right.
amount of muscles and feminine qualities”
for the part, the press could also endorse
her addendum: “I looked believable, like I
could kill.” Turned out, however, that the
body used in the ads wasn't Jones's. A
scheduling conflict prevented her from
posing, and model/weight lifter Stephonie
Suthers was pulled in to substitute. The
body you saw in pLavgoy’s July issue, of
course, is the real thing.

Grace's grace also helped the career of
her boyfriend, martial-arts champ Dolph
Lundgren, who appeared with her in Kill.
The brawny Swedish blond followed with
a few rounds as Stallonc’s Russian op-
ponent in Rocky IV. A much scrawnier
blond, Sting, has been decked twice while
trying to climb into the movie ring, fol-
lowing his flop Dune with Son of Flop, The
Bride (which did not set Jennifer Beals's
career dancing, cither). Sting may get up
from the mat with Plenty, in which he tries
to impregnate Meryl Streep.

We're still waiting for blonde Kim Bos-
inger's long-delayed 9/2 Weeks, the kinky
sadomasochistic bondage picture that was
duc out this year but so far has proved to
be too hot for stuffy MGM/UA to handle.
Although Kim has talent to match her ter-
rific locks, she may be a glutton for pun-
ishment. Her next outing is opposite Sam
Shepard in the film version of his Fool for
Love, in which, if it follows the play, she'll
also be bashed around a bit.

Of course, it's normal for at least one
film to be in trouble with the censors. If
the country were rcally retreating into the
Fifties, you'd expect an outcry over the
dangers of rock п’ roll. Well.

Over in the nati
Washington wives, including a Senator's
and the Treasury Secretary's, has taken on
“porn rock,” forcing major record compa-
nies to put warning stickers on albums
containing explicit lyrics. As usual, this
will just help the youngsters find the
records they're bound to like best. The
moms will be happy, thinking they've
done something to keep the kids’ minds off
sex, but rock is no more likely to rot their
little minds than it was 30 years ago.

You can always count on a kid to keep
things in perspective. Or, as Alon Thicke
recalls his son's reaction to his explanation
of the facts of life: “When I was through . -
he asked why anyone would want to do
that and how they keep from laughing.”

After years of studying Sex Stars, I'm
sure I know why they do what they do,
though it's sometimes hard to explain,
even to adults. But after all this time, it’s
still impossible to keep from laughing,

The Norwegians are perfectly clear

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PLAYBOY

HUEY LEWIS (continued from page 173)

“We are a team. Music is a team sport. We hang out
in a lot of coliseums and take a lot of showers.”

9.

PLAYBOY: Hello? We all loved your Gram-
mys take-ofl—the Spammies. Are you
going to hold them again?

LEWIS: m not sure. Organizationally, it’s
tough. I don’t think we can get all of us
into Uncle Charlie’s night club anymore,
let alone let any people in. [Handing over
another photo of his daughter] Here she is
with her mom. Don Nagle is really the
brains behind them, if you can call it that.
It was really just an excuse for some poor
jokes. There were awards for all kinds of
things: Uncle Charlie’s got the award for
Best Night Club in a Shopping Center
Overlooking a Major Federal Penitentiary.
Winners got cans of Spam. We never won,
but a local band called The Edge won the

award for the Best Band Named After a
Shaving Cream,

10.

PLAYBOY: How do you and the News keep
from going crazy on the road, with more
than 300 dates in the past three years?

Lewis: We've taken up golf, which has real-
ly been a savior. There’s nothing to do on
the road in mid-America, unless уоште
into golf. And there are some of the best
golf courses in the world in Ohio, North
Carolina, Virginia and places like that. So
we go out in the day and whack away.
We're pretty serious about it—seriously
bad. My handicap mirrors my ability in
general. I shoot mid-90s, low 90s. I can’t
consistently get in the 80s, which is my
goal. It’s a way to kill time and not to
watch television. In bad weather, it’s trou-

ble. You read. A good book is essential.
Гуе been reading Ken Follett for a while
now. I've also been reading scripts, believe
it or not, which has nothing to do with
reading good books. It’s a good laugh.
п.

PLAYBOY: So are you going to-
Lewis: Be a movie star? Yeah, that's it; Pm
going to be a movie star. No, I’m not going
to be а movie star. I'm going to be a
singer, still. Гуе been offered some stuff,
which is flattering. I don’t know how to
act. I was a tree in seventh grade, and
that’s the extent of it. I could probably
screw up a perfectly good music career
with a bad movie. I’m reading the scripts
because I may try acting one day, and I
want to figure out what a good and a bad
script is. Some scripts I think are awful;
then I go to see the movie six months later,
and the one I thought was awful is a better
movie than the script I thought was pretty
good. Actors must be kicking themselves.
After studying for years, they can’t get a
part because the producers want to give it
to me. It’s silly, but that’s showbiz.

12.
Why was the album called

PLAYBOY:
Sports?
Lewis: Because we couldn't spell weather.
I can't believe I said that. I don’t know; it
just seemed like a good idea at the time.
For 17 reasons, none of which is really
valid enough on its own, it makes sense.
We are a team. Music is a team sport. We
hang out in a lot of coliseums and take a
lot of showers.

13.

тлувоу: You had an interesting childhood.
Your mother was, ah, eccentric, wasn’t
she?

Lewis: Excuse me? Keep my mother out of
this! Actually, that’s why we made it—
because my parents were eccentric, and
I'm a nice guy, but primarily because my
parents were eccentric. 1 forgot that.
Right. My father was a jazz drummer and
a doctor, and now he's retired for the most
part and still a huge jazz fan. My mother
is an artist. She is the farthest out of the
family. She hung out in the very early days
of the beatniks. My parents split up and
she hung out with the Beats, who then be-
came the hippies. She was the first of the
adults to go to Fillmore Auditorium and
listen to the Grateful Dead and that sort of
stuff. So I grew up on that. I was encour-
aged as a kid to do anything—really any-
thing. Experience was the best teacher,
and here I am.

14.
PLAYBOY: When did you begin playing the
harmonica? Are you good?

Lewis: Yeah. I’m an incredible harmonica
player, a great singer and an extremely

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PLAYBOY

274

nice guy. I picked up the harmonica on the
way to Europe when I was 16. It fit the
image. I hitchhiked through Europe, had
long hair and couldn't get a ride, so I
played a lot of harmonica. It was the
knapsack that made it. That and being
16—and Bob Dylan, although my style
was more like Sonny Terry’s and Brownie
McGhee's than Dylan's. That's when I got
the bug to be a musician. 1 was always a
listener. I was always the guy through
grade school who, when there was a
dance, would be standing next to the
bandstand or near the speakers. I was
always a fan. My first band was called
їррегу Elm, and later I joined Clover,
which was a case of being in the wrong
place at the wrong time. We went to Lon-
don, thought we were going to make it.
The Sex Pistols were breaking. The Clash
had just had their first gig. We were this
nice, friendly country-rock band. Wrong.

15.

PLAYBOY: And then the News—how did
that happen?

Lewis: Later, when 1 was in England, I saw
а resurgence of American roots music—
which 1 had been into for a long time. I
saw bands like Rockpile, Elvis Costello
and Graham Parker playing Chuck Berry.
So, much later, I was asked to run a local
jam session at Uncle Charlie’s їп Marin
County every Monday night. I said sure. 1
called up all these guys and things really
took off. We had comedians, and some-
times big names would come in, like The
Doobie Brothers. Van Morrison came by

.CHRISTM
CARDS 2

TFR

one day. The thing started to sell out and
there was a big line around the block and
some local studio offered us some studio
time, and 1 said sure. We wentin and, fora
laugh, cut a disco version of Exodus that
we called Exodisco, which we thought was
very clever. At that time, Nick Lowe flew
me over to play on his record with
Dave Edmunds. While I was over there, 1
played this tune to Phonogram records,
and they loved it and signed me to a sin-
gles deal. They gave me 6000 bucks. I took
the money back. With $3000, I paid the
studio off, and І took the other $3000 and
gave it to the studio so we could cut a
demo tape of three other songs that we had
hastily written. Those songs got us our
manager, Bob Brown. Three weeks later,
Chrysalis came to see us, and three
months later, we were signed. The rest is
Mill Valley history. Since I had called
everybody up for the gigs, I got to be the
singer.

16.

PLAYBOY: Now that you've made it, do peo-
ple ever say, “What an asshole"?

Lewis: I'm sure they do, but never to my
face. I find it tough to decide who is an
asshole and who isn't anymore. It used to
be сазу. I suffer fools а little too gladly—
that's what my wife tells me, anyway.

17.
PLAYBOY: What do you miss about old-style
rock ’n’ roll?
Lewis: San Francisco used to be so cre-
ative. The Grateful Dead, the Jefferson

Airplane gave us the “I don't know where
we're going; we're just going to let it rip”
them. Also the
rics, psyche-

delic lyrics with R&B music—Sons of
Chaplain, Sly Stone, which became
Prince, Rick James, George Benson,

Chicago—all that was born in the Sixties
in San Francisco. Those were amazingly
creative times. That was exciting. Rock `n’
roll was the cutting edge at that time. 1
miss that, I suppose.

18.

PLAYBOY: What's the cutting edge now?
LEWIS; Television, and, unfortunately, it
isn’t doing a lot of cutting. It’s being very
poorly handled at the moment. The idea of
24-hour-a-day music television is fantastic.
ofa 24-hour-a-day sports thing is
So it does have the potential for
becoming the cutting edge. The new art is
going to materialize on television some-
how. We're certainly ready for something.
The point is that I don’t think you can get
people’s attention anymore through a
song. It’s not powerful enough anymore.
The music business has become bigger
than the artists themselves. They tried not
to play Elvis Presley records, but they
couldn't hold him down. They couldn't
hold The Beatles down. But The Beatles
and Brian Epstein changed things: They
sort of created the modern American
monster-music business. When the Sex
Fistols came along, the business said,
“Wait a minute. These guys aren’t going
to play ball with us and we're not going to
play ball with them.” And the Sex Pistols
lost. I think that was a signal there. Peo-
ples jobs are on the line. That's a sad
thing. It’s a reflection of the country as a
whole: It’s very hip to be capitalistic,

19.

PLayboy: Where does that leave you?
Lewis: It challenges you to get your mes-
sage across, but discreetly, between the
lines. You have to water down your mes-
sage to get played, but at the same time, it
must be there. Nobody says you have to be
political to be valid, but I think you do
have to be honest, and you do have to say
more than “Hey, here's another hit.” I
don't fecl a lot of pressure to make a song
that’s another hit record, but I do feel
pressure to make a song that’s a hit record
that means something.

20.
PLAYBOY: You're not great at golf. What else
are you not great al?

Lewis: Reading Russian. Badminton. I'm
pretty good at going goo-goo and ga-ga
with my daughter. That’s about it. Boring,
T know, but Pm a terrifically nice guy.

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PLAYBOY

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SEXUAL PASSAGES

(continued from page 194)
collateral. The motel gone condo.
Vandals have eaten much long pig on that
pet park bench. The bistro, under new
management, is serving poulel frite à la
Kentucky.

B. You've had your last three-banger.
Doubles you might still get here and
there—most often when reconciling after
that bad argument in which one of you has
said something really unforgivable like,
oh, “Aquarium plants make better love
than you do.” A triple, though, runs kind
of long and can leave much inflamed tissue
she will

around. Now, when you suggest i
say, with sweet condescension,
have to prove anything, dear.”

C. He and she get sloshed or do serious
grass together a lot. As the familiar apho-
rism puts it, “I drink to make my husband
interesting.”

D. You do things together—movie, bal-
let, Trivial Pursuit and trivial pursuit. You
take up fire walking with her or codesign
pregnant-executive clothing. Not enough
just to be together now. Someone went and
cut down the old grooming tree.

E. You both begin to gain weight. True
love is better than water pills. Who can
eat? As Ben Jonson said, “Leave a kiss but
in the cup and ГИ not look for wine.” Jon-
son died of malnutrition, I think. You
don’t intend to.

Е. Her cat has started using your brief-
casc. Cats аге front runners. They know а
loser when they smell one.

Love hemorrhages in Age Four. Exery-
thing is letdown, discontent, general Sag
Harbor, He—a big first, this—will pass
gas audibly (until now he went out to the
incinerator when major flatulence was
upon him. Neighbors had begun getting
suspicious). And last night she ripped a
panty shield off her crotch—another audi-
р. Both no longer buy Binaca. He
doesn’t do a discreet bank shot off the bowl
side when urinating: rrrr-ip, he gives his
leak, doesn’t take it. At bedtime she will
put her retainer in. (Should she get a lousy
overbite for love? Just try to soul kiss Ms.
Plastic Palate.) He's wearing baggy boxer
shorts again. So long to that bikini stuff.
Her period lasts longer. His hair is leoni
but rather less attractive on the soap caki
She reads aloud from an article about vas-
ectomy. Much more petroleum jelly is
being used: symbolic of the prevailing fric-
tion. At last, abruptly, she begins to gag in
mid-blow job. And will retch all over his
pubic hair.

“Its just too damn big. It is, darling,”
she says. Ho! A miracle! A very miracle!
How did it get that way all of one sudden?
Familiarity is vour best penile enlarger.

Where once, leaving for work, he would

wave and blow kisses and walk backward
down the hall, now a door will slam and it
doesn’t even wake her. She has started

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PLAYBOY

hiding her diary—some unpublishable
comments in there by this time. The pos-
sessive pronoun is evident: your, yours,
my, mine, mine, mine. One cup will
remain unwashed in the sink for a week—
neither can recall who drank out of it.
Closet space is a matter to be adjudicated
by the World Court. No more intellectual
détente, cither. He will call her little Ras-
putin because she sent a Christmas card
with the Holy Family on it. In retaliation
she prays aloud for his “unregencrate
soul.” And will give up smoking to gain
moral advantage. They feature in each
other’s jokes. He has taken to wearing a
Walkman around the house. Various
impatient tics surface. He will burp her,
pat-pat, on the shoulder when they
embrace. She has developed a short, cen-
sorious laugh when he begins to speak in
company. She will buckle up—the law,
you know—instead of sitting close, hand
on his knee, as they drive. Neither has
been unfaithful, but both would like to
catch the other hard at it. Notes appear.
“Could you please rinse a milk glass after
you use it, XXXOOO?” “TIl be out, so
would you please use the kitty scoop now
and then, OOOX XX?" Those aren't hugs
and kisses, they're the diagram for some
slow-down basketball play.

Worse, dissatisfaction has turned them
both into Augustan wits.

HE: Your religion is so damn vulgar,
what say I give you a chocolate Jesus for
Easter?

sHE: Your soul’s the size of a White Cas-
tle burger.

HE: You know who you are—you're the
broad in the horror flick, the one who
always falls down and sprains her ankle
when Wolfman is after her.

SHE: You have the inner life of Richard
Nixon.

EITHER: Your mother is so masculine, 1
bet she doesn’t even have a maiden name.

And then comes the horrid moment—
the moment of Gratuitous Honesty. We all
have at least one special vulnerable place.
She, for instance, is insecure about her
flat-chestedness. And he, in anger, will
say, “I see your push-up bra missed this
morning.”

He, for instance, is insecure about his
athletic ability. And she, in anger, will say,
"Christ, your reflexes are so bad, you
couldn’t even manage a knee-jerk opin-
ion.” You both swallow and apologize
immediately. Immediately is a half hour
too late.

Your magic mirror has broken. You’ve
gone through the looking glass and found
New Jersey. No, more than that—you see
your own disreputable flaws in her, some-
thing we could all do without. Drunk, she
will go on and on and on like the roller
towel in a men’s room. As you do. He, too,
can never get butane into a lighter. As you
can't. Both are more pompous than
double-crostic answers. You’re compatible
is what. A match made in the Rust Belt.
You're furious at her for reminding you of
what you are. Who could love such a per-
son? Time to announce the banns of emo-
tional separation.

.

Age Fiveis a segment from Mondo Cane.
No nced to describe it. You live in a big
cloud of methyl isocyanate. Both will pay
the price for hyperbole. After all he or she
was once -est everything: dearest, hand-
somest, sexiest, wittiest, closest, cute-as-a-
Hershey’s-Kiss-cst. Nonc of those were lies
back then in Ages One through Three, but
now they're harder to follow than Greg
Louganis off the high board. Fear of loss
will become fear of being saddled with.
Conquest is harsh responsibility. Cling-
ingest, slovenliest, dullest, low-life-est. No
blame should inhere: you both signed up
for this passionate tag team. And yet there
is that acid bitterness of thwarted (if unre-

"It's so nice for ol’ Santa to meet someone whose
whole attitude isn’t take, take, take."

alistic) expectation. Put joy into the burn
bag and gain some more weight. Didn't
you know that such emotional heightening
could never be sustained? Death of a love:
Details at 11.

Well, you're thinking, this schmuck
must have tenure in the Cynicism depart-
ment by now. Not so: a useful lesson can
be picked up from my diagrammatic nar-
rative of love’s alpine slide down to
despair. And many people—though their
instinct may be unconscious—have caught
on to it. Take Ages One through Five and,
if you can, reverse the order. Put Four and
Five first—then follow with One, ‘Two,
Three. Although careful passion may
sound like an oxymoron, start looking
around for that man or woman whom
you've already known at his or her miscra-
ble worst. A year ago, а decade ago, ycs-
terday, whenever. At school or work, in
church, next door. People whose
objectionable habits are familiar to you.
With whom you've shared intimate, if not
sexually close, space. For it is that cata-
clysmic, blind free fall from Age One to
Age Five, more than anything else, that
taxes the frail wet-strength of rapture.

Moisten a digit and file through your
page-loose address book from 1969. Dig
up old college-alumni magazines, corpo-
rate Rolodexes, mastheads, playbills,
block-association rosters, affinity-group
memberships. Recall that jerk who
rejected your ad campaign for the K-9
Sani Pad account? He was bright and
charming, сусп though he did legwork for
an Anti-Fluoridation Party candidate.
Remember that arrogant girl who sat next
to you at NYU? She went around looking
like someone with a frozen tampon in, but
she was trés foxy. That atheist, Republi-
can, environmentalist prig you disagreed
with on the church-roof committee? Send
some sudden flowers. A suggestive Christ-
mas card. Ring up. Think for а minute:
how many good marriages do you know (I
have about eight in mind) where two peo-
ple met long before they met? People who
say cheerfully now, “Yeah, we were at
USC together, but he was doing this ridic-
ulous vaudeville stretch strut through life
at the time. I never thought of him that
way.” “Yeah, you were so haughty, I
wouldn’t have touched you with a ten-foot
Czech.” Start with Age Four, declare the
mistrial first and surprise each other.
Someone with whom you've already been
unshaven, cheap, flatulent, fat, drunk,
impatient and boxer-shorted. Whose cat
has gone in your briefcase at least once.

Meantime, of course, if you hear that
siren tune—don't lash yourself to a mast.
Love at first sight may become hate at first
slight. Passion might end in punitive dam-
ages and disgust. But, for the duration,
allahu akbar, strike a medal and ride it to
paradise. And, yes, Letitia, I do still love

m
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(оте 10 Mätiboro Country. -
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Rumple Minze. Icy cool. Authentically German.

The boldly refreshing peppermint schnapps from Germany. 100 proof. Enjoy in moderation.
Imported by The Paddington Corp., New York, NY U.S.A

PLAYBOY

what's happening, where it’s happening and who's making it happen

hampagne sipped from a lady's slipper may be
quite Continental, but the right kind of glassware for
serving anything from a bone-cold martini straight
up to a cognac in the wee small hours is definitely a
drinking man's best friend. On this page, we've collected six
vessels; each has a specific purpose—though most of them

GLASS ACT.

have multiple uses. (Three fingers of single-malt Scotch in a
cut-crystal double old fashioned glass goes down just as
smoothly as the same amount of well-aged bourbon.) And if
vodka is your call, only a peasant would turn down shots, as
frigid and frosty as a Siberian winter, served in crystal glasses
nested in a container filled with crushed ice. Na zdorovye!

From left to right: Champagne served in a crystal flute-shaped bubbly glass, by Colony, $14. A Bordeaux/Burgundy glass that’s designed by The
Institut National des Appellations d’Origine (the agency that governs French wines) in Paris, from Wine Connoisseur, Chicago, $10.95, rests

atop a crystal cognac snifter, from Sointu, New York, $16, and a cut-crystal doul

old fashioned glass, from Cartier, Chicago, $140 for a set of

four. Crown Corning’s Uptown martini glass in lead crystal, $16 for a set of four, balances atop an Italian-designed vodka (or acquavit) glass
with a hand-painted rim housed in a sleek black metal ice holder, from Progetti U.S.A., Cambridge, Massachusetts, $150 for a set of six.

LOOK WHAT WE JUST
BROUGHT TO THE PARTY.
THE SONY HANDYCAM.

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=
Sr
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=
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ET

Its the perfect marriage. Sonys new 8mm video

phenomenon and your hand.
We call it the Handycam™ camera/recorder It's so

tiny it fits in one hand.
So anyone can use it anywhere, anytime.
Just point and shoot. And capture all the memories

as they happen.
Then, with its handy companion deck, you can play

rk of Sony Corp “T

nol Ameri

your pictures back in full color and vivid sound, on

any television.
Up to two hours of good times

ona video tape no bigger than an
audio cassette

So bring your hand in to your local
Sony dealer. SON Y.
And try the Handycamon for size. 7 5

ind Only isa r nd Hane

all it the lunch-hour tanathon, At thousands of tan-

ning clinics springing up nationwide, pale-faced

office workers now spend their noontimes supine

on blue-glowing tanning beds, baking themselves
into nut-brown clones of supertanner George Hamilton.
Meanwhile, Hamilton himself, along with such celebrities as
Mariel Hemingway, Liza Minnelli and Rod Stewart, frequents
the poshest of these new antipallor parlors, Los Angeles’
Uvasun on West Third Street, where a 50-minute loll on the
golden bed costs $50.

Sunshine, of course, is cheaper. But as the adage goes, you
get what you pay for. And adherents maintain that the new
beds tan your hide faster and better than the sun.

Atypical tanning bed, such as what you'll find ina EuroTan,
Silver Solarium or Tanning Hut salon, looks like a giant metal
clamshell. Wearing only a bikini, you lie supine on Plexiglas
оп the bottom shell. Inserting a token into a slot, you start
fans whirring. Tubes beneath and above you glow eerily blue
or pink. You then set the time you wish to tan—say, 20
minutes—and put on a pair of opaque goggles. The glowing,
top shell lowers easily to whatever position you want. (Most
manufacturers recommend that it be about a hand's width
from the tip of your nose.)

When the machine shuts off, you raise the hood, crawl out,
towel off any heat-induced sweat, suit up and head back to
the office. Zonker Harris, formerly Doonesbury's competi-
tive tanner, prepped for the George Hamilton Cocoa Butter
Open with an under-the-chin sun reflector, a good way to
get seared. Oldfangled sun lamps can also give you a nasty
burn. So can the ultimate cheap tanner, the unassisted sun.
With tanning beds, however, even workaholics who never
take vacations or leave their desks before sundown can
achieve that just-back-from-Biarritz look, without a trace of
singe. (A word to the wise: If you're very light-skinned, go
slow with a tanning machine; if you don't tan from the sun,
you won't tan with a tanning machine. It is possible to get a
burn, especially if you're photosensitized and taking any of a
number of medications. A doctor can fill you in on the
details. Also, always wear tanning goggles when using a
machine, as ОМ-А rays are known to cause cataracts. And
while we hate to be a wet blanket, it should be noted that no
one knows what the long-term effects of tanning radiation
are, especially to the bodys immune system.)

Natural sunlight's tanner is ultraviolet (U.V.) radiation: It
induces your skin to produce melanin, a protective, light-
blocking dark pigment, like
an attacked army throwing
up redoubts. For make no
mistake, the relationship.
between unfiltered sun-
shine and your skin is all-
out war. Overexposed to
sunlight, your hide will age
prematurely, wrinkling and
thickening until it resem-
blesan old saddle. Severe-
ly burned, it will actually
blister. Your body's natural
defense against solar radi-
ation is a tan's radiation-
blocking melanin, which is
why blacks are less sus-
ceptible to sunburn than
whites are. But even with a
deep tan, you can sizzle in

THE MIDNIGHT SUN

outdoor workers. So hedging your tanning bets never hurts,
and that’s where tanning beds come in. As one enthusiast of
Hollywood's Uvasun, Roger Moore, puts it, "It's the best
thing that happened to me in years—a deep tan without hay-
ing to spend all day on the beach.” Tan-conscious celebrities
are drawn to Uvasun's posh Hollywood emporium by the
German manufacturers claim that just 50 minutes in its
machine gives you the tan of ten hours on the beach. A
Uvasun, the company claims, filters out U.V.-B and U.V.-C,
U.V/s harmful wave lengths. That's why, as an inducement to
safe and sane tanning, the Uvasun tanning bed pictured here
was installed in Playboy Mansion West. Other leading firms
use a different technology from Uvasun's, but those man-
ufacturers also promise a bumless tan. Competing safety
claims can be hard to sort out, however, so a few words of
background may help.

Sunlight's ultraviolet comes in three variations, A, B and C,
each representing a different energy level. U.V.-C is the most
dangerous. Fortunately, the atmosphere's ozone layer filters
out most U.V.-C, making it chiefly a worry for astronauts. For
earthlings, the real sunburner is U.V.-B. Most of the new tan-
ning beds, however, beam out only a minimal dose of U.V.-B.
For example, SCA Wolff System tanning beds emit less than
five percent U.V.-B. The major ingredient in the bed's radia-
tion mix, U.V.-A, roasts the melanin into a coffee brown.

“Most tanning beds use low-pressure technology, but
Uvasun is a high-pressure bed, using a high-intensity light
source to generate U.V.,” says Uvasun sales rep Bernadette
Soon. As a result, she points out, the machine's three-stage
filter system produces pure U.V.-A rays that penetrate your
skin deeply enough to stir up melanin production with high
efficiency. Another attraction for Uvasun's star clientele: cod-
dling, An outside elevator whisks patrons to what amounts to
a chic indoor beach resort. Lying on an adjustable soft mat-
tress, Uvasun tanners can even read, using specially de-
signed protective goggles. The six tanning rooms, plus three
stations for face-only tanning, are air-conditioned, with five-
channel stereo and built-in tape decks. Aprés-tan, there are
private showers and locker rooms fully stocked. Even at
Uvasun's $50 per session, an under-the-lights tan is a bargain
compared with a trip to the Riviera. Although rates vary, the
fees at most tanning salons are roughly six dollars for one 30-
minute session, $55 for ten sessions or $75 for 15 sessions.
Meanwhile, the tanning industry is moving into the personal-
tanning market, with lower-priced models becoming avail-
able for the home. SCA
Wolff is now introducing a
line of tanners priced from
$400 for a facial tanner to
$3000 for a deluxe clam-
shell model. “You can plug
them into a wall socket,
though you may have [0
up your house’s amper-
age,” says SCA Wolff's
Susan Miller, senior vice-
president of sales and
marketing. And Solaire
SunSystems in Dallas has
even come out with a six-
tube U.V.-A (two percent
U.V.-B) SunBuddy model
that operates on house
current and folds up ver-
tically for easy storage. At

the sun. Worse, long-term
exposure can trigger skin
cancer—which seems
borne out by statistics on

Yes, that's Playmate Susie Scott toasting in the altogether aboard Playboy
Mansion West’s Uvasun, a German-made tanning system that generates
only U.V-A rays. Sorry, guys, Mansion West's Uvasun is off limits; but you
can visit the salon at 8242 West Third Street in Los Angeles and enjoy
а 50-minute tan for only $50. Reservations: 213-651-4540. Do call.

only $1295, it's a mighty
cheap way to enter the
bronze age.

— RICHARD WOLKOMIR

285

ROVING EYE

AANSTOOT

PETER VAN STRAATEN is the leading
social satirist in Holland. His daily comic
strip Father and Son is con:
thing of a national treasure.
Straaten celebrated his 50th birthday by
treating Holland to a best-selling port-
folio of erotic drawings called Aanstoot.
Aanstoot is a Dutch word that translates
as “affront.” It also connotes an ap-
proach to life, a style of being that is sen-
suous, shocking, reckless. The theme of
the drawings is sex in public places,
lovers carried away by desire, oblivious to
manners, morals, innocent and not-so-
innocent bystanders. The risk of dis-
covery lends a razor’s edge to the
arousal, a jolt to the eye, an affront to the
senses. The style of the drawings is im-
peccable: It is as though Rembrandt had
indulged in erotica. Leafing through the
50 or so drawings is an experience that

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will liberate your libi-
do. Americans may
have to wait for а
U.S. edition of the
book, but the five
drawings shown here
are an arbitrary selec-
tion. How do you
pick a favorite erotic
Rorschach blot? For
the full, uncensored
text, send ten dollars
to The Sales Depart-
ment, Arbeidsperes,
Singel 262, Amster-
dam, the Netherlands.
Then invite your lover.
vp to your apartment
to look at the world's
most erotic drawings.

T u)

288

POTPOURRI
BOOP SHOW

Who could forget Betty
Воор, the saucy saucer-
eyed, bob-haired cartoon
flapper who made her
debut as a restaurant
entertainer in Рага-
mount’s 1930 Talkartoon
Dizzy Dishes, gaining
instant stardom as what
some comic historians
consider the first sexy
cartoon character? Now
King Features Syndicate
has resurrected Betty,
applying her pert, рго-
vocalive image to ev-
erything from clocks,
mugs and cosmetics to
stickers and lingerie. Of
course, it’s the last

that caught our fancy: а
set of colorful Betty
Boop undies in blue,
pink or white sells for
$15.50, postpaid, sent to
Movie Star, Inc., 392
Fifth Avenue, New York
10028. (Don't forget to
state whether you're order-
ing small, medium or
large.) Boop-oop-a-doop!

END OF THE TRAIL

Martin H. Schreiber has plenty of heavy-duty photography credits under
his belt, including his being the man behind the lens for some of the
Madonna shots we ran in September's sizzler of an issue. Luscious ladies,
however, are not all that fascinates him—as the picture above attests.
Schreiber, in fact, spent more than a year photographing the American
cowboy, and the results of his labor of love are captured in Last of a
Breed—a boxed, 16" x 21” signed and numbered limited (600) edition that
contains 76 black-and-white photographs beautifully depicting what's left
of life in the wild West. The book is available for $425 sent to Cowboy
Project Limited, 611 Broadway, Room 815, New York 10012. Giddap!

GREAT LIGHT IN SKY, BWANA

As most sky watchers already know, Hal-
ley’s comet will be most visible in the
Southern Hemisphere next March and
April. For a clear view of this phenome-
non, Mountain Travel, 1398 Solano Ave-
nue, Albany, California 94706, has
organized an 18-day safari m Botswana
on which you animal watch by day and
comet watch by night. Since there are no
lights in the bush, your view is clear. The
price: $2150, not including air fare.

VIDEO SHOPTALK

Yes, Virginia, there is an alternative to
doing your Christmas shopping among
the teeming masses, and that's subscrib-
ing to Vidcologue, the first mail-order
catalog on video tape. The price is $9.95
for the first cassette (VHS or Beta), with
no charge for additional tapes, says the
creator, Videologue Marketing, 3409 Ave-
nue H, Brooklyn, New York 11210.
What's hot for Christmas? Oh, a Butler-
in-a-Box device, for $995, that operates
by the sound of your voice. Take two.

СНОО-СНОО ВАВУ

Remember when a Lionel
train under the Christmas tree
would get your heart beating
faster than waking up next to
Raquel Welch? Well, there are
plenty of big guys out there
who still have the hots for toy
trains, and that’s why Tom
McComas and James Tuohy
compiled the Lionel Collector
Series—a $150 boxed set of six
hardcover volumes devoted to
Lionel. TM Books, Box 189,
Wilmette, Illinois 60091, is the
publisher. Yes, the books are
available individually, along
with a 86.95 Lionel calendar.
And the company even
appraises toy trains free.

CHRISTMAS
GREENERY

Yes, that’s old Saint Nick with
his picture perfectly affixed to
a real dollar bill. Is it legal
tender? You bet, says Thurston
Moore Country, the company
at P.O. Box 1829, Montrose,
Colorado 81402, that'll do the
same with your photo. Santa
bills are $3.95 each, while per-
sonalized bills made from
black-and-white or color pho-
tos (no negatives or slides) are
$8.95 each. All the bills, inci-
dentally, are mint-fresh and
negotiable. Slip one to your
doorman and you'll never have
to hail your own cab again.

DREAM ON!

‘Just when you thought it was
safe to return to the stationcry
store, along come more
California Dreamers, a line of
greeting cards famous for
images and punch lines that
are funnier than a barrel of Jay
Lenos. (The one at left has a
punch line that reads, IT JUST
WOULDN'T BE CHRISTMAS WITHOUT
carbs.) Sexy, outrageous,
olffensive— there's a California
Dreamers card for everyone.
Our favorite? The onc ofa lady
wearing nothing but a pair of
panties on the backside of
which is painted a city skyline
and the inscription HAVE A
NIGHT ON THE TOWN!

L’ATELIER ALL THE WAY

Your little toy soldier may be covered with rust,
but in France there's a toy company named Pixi
that still makes wonderful, whimsical lead figures
designed to be showcased in their own tiny room
settings. Pictured here is our favorite, The Artist’s
Studio, a seven-piece set that includes the artist,
his nude model, the patron, the fledgling artist
and other assorted pieces. Schylling Associates,
One Peabody Street, Salem, Massachusetts
01970, sells the set for $84.95, postpaid, or $100.
including a glass-and-wood shadow box. Nifty

JOIN THE RATRACE

If you think you have what it takes to be a suc-
cess, don’t just sit there dreaming about owning a
BMW; get into the Ratrace—“the game the

ial climbers play,” says the manufacturer,
Waddingtons Games, Inc. You start out in the
working class, with $200, then claw your way up
to the middle class and then, perhaps, to high
society. GRA-MIC Direct Marketing, Acheson
Drive and Buffalo Avenue, Niagara Falls, New
York 14301, sells the game for $25. Climb!

Wham, Ват,
Тћапк Уои,
Аппе

We don't get tired of
looking at ANNE
CARLISLE. We rerun
Liquid Sky or take
another look at her
1984 PLAYBOY feature.
Recently, she's been
in Desperately Seek-
ing Susan and Perfect
Strangers. Now she's
а holiday gift to you.

GRAPEVIN

RICHARD FEGLEY

Semi-Demi

With terrific reviews for her рег-
formance in St Elmo's Fire
under her shirt, actress DEMI
MOORE has moved on to other
projects, such as filming My
Summer Vacation. We hope it’s
the kind of movie in which she
can shed her flannel altogether
for something, well, cooler.

A Little Lick

We just like PHIL COLLINS. He makes good
music. He seems like a decent guy. He doesn't

rumors about

band, w

‘roll part at all. Amid all the
the breakup of Genesis, his
ıe hear that a new studio album

is definite for the group in 1986, with a tour 10

follow. Meanwhil
really wail on.

j
A
8
5
E
El

ROSE SHOSHANA / SHOOTING STAR

le, Phil has found a guitar he can

Slip Him a Mickey

We think MICKEY ROURKE
should get silly. The next time
you see him on screen, he'll be
playing a stockbroker who's into
S/M. Last time, he was Rambo
in Chinatown in Year of the
Dragon. Take a break, Mickey.

French Bred

ISABELLE HUPPERT was an actress of note
long before her fortunes got linked to Heaven's
Gate. She made two films this year, All Mixed
Up and Signed Charlotte, the second one di-
rected by her sister. Look for her next in Cac-
tus, but see her all wet first.

k

Billy's Idol

Are you wondering who the guy with the boufíant
is? Wonder no more. Guitarist STEVE STEVENS is
the music behind Billy Idol's leather, studs and
sneers. Theirmost recent collaboration, Whiplash
Smile, should be in the record stores right now. If
you're into goose-pimply menace with your
music, these are the nasty guys to watch.

(© 1082 NANCY ELLISON

© 1985 PAUL NATKIN / PHOTO RESERVE INC.

8
E
El
al

Kristel Clear

There isn’t a film editor on the planet who would cut this KRISTEL. SYLVIA was in
three movies this year; Mata Hari, Red Heat and the improbably fitled Tigers in
Lipstick. But things haven't changed that much from the time we all enjoyed her in
Emmanuelle and Lady Chatterley. “I'm always amazed. . . the camera falls in love
with me,” she says, almost too modestly. After all, she’s no optical delusion.

292

COMING NEXT:

PLAYMATE REVIEW

EVERYBODY, BROTHER BELATEDLY, IMAN

DR. RUTH WESTHEIMER, THE WORLD'S MOST GRAND-
MOTHERLY SEX EXPERT, TALKS ABOUT OUR FAVORITE
SUBJECT IN A DELIGHTFUL PLAYBOY INTERVIEW

"IMAN"—PETER BEARD'S ARREST ON TRUMPED-UP
CHARGES KEPT HIS AFRICAN DIARY STARRING THIS
TOP MODEL OUT OF OUR DECEMBER ISSUE. SORRY,
BUT IT WAS WORTH THE WAIT

“MISS FORBES'S SUMMER OF HAPPINESS"—TWO.
YOUNG BOYS DISCOVER THAT THEIR STRICT GOV-
ERNESS HAS A SECRET NIGHT LIFE IN THIS TALE BY
GABRIEL GARCÍA MÁRQUEZ 1

"SOUTH AFRICA AT HOME: REAGAN AND THE RE-
VIVAL OF RACISM"—HOW FIVE YEARS OF THIS AD-
MINISTRATION HAVE SET CIVIL RIGHTS BACK 20
YEARS—BY HODDING CARTER Ill

PLAYBOY'S GALA 32ND
ANNIVERSARY ISSUE

HAPPY SUMMER

«4

е

“EVERYBODY AND HIS BROTHER”—THE BROTHERS
KEACH, CARRADINE, QUAID, EVERLY, STALLONE,
HINES, SMOTHERS, ET AL. TACKLE ALL THE BIG
BROTHERLY QUESTIONS—BY JEAN PENN

“PLAYBOY’S PLAYMATE REVIEW"—A CURTAIN CALL
BY 1985'S DELICIOUS DOZEN; REFRESH YOUR MEM-
ORY WITH THE LOVELIEST WOMEN OF MODERN TIMES

PLUS: “WHILE LENIN SLEPT,” YOUNG RON REAGAN'S
REPORT ON WHAT HE SAW WHEN WE SENT HIM TO
THE SOVIET UNION; “PLAYBOY'S COLLEGE BASKET-
BALL PREVIEW,” BY ANSON MOUNT; D. KEITH MANO
OPENS THE DOOR TO “THE LAST CLOSET: SEXUAL
DOMINATION AND SUBMISSION IN AMERICA”;
“KILLER,” BY KEN KESEY; "WHY I'M ANGRY ABOUT
FOOD,” BY DAN JENKINS; АМО MORE

COMING IN THE MONTHS AHEAD: NEWS-MAKING PLAYBOY INTERVIEWS WITH KATHLEEN TURNER, MICHAEL

DOUGLAS AND SALLY FIELD;

FIRE ZONE EMERALD," A TAUT STORY ABOUT TWO PROFESSIONAL SOLDIERS

WHO ARE OUT FOR EACH OTHER'S BLOOD IN THE JUNGLES OF CENTRAL AMERICA, BY LUCIUS SHEPARD; “YOUR
MOST PROFOUND SKIN," AN EROTIC SHORT STORY BY JULIO CORTAZAR; PICTORIAL UNCOVERAGE OF
VICTORIA SELLERS, THE BREATH-TAKING DAUGHTER OF BRITT EKLAND AND PETER SELLERS; FICTION BY
GEORGE V. HIGGINS AND ROBERT SILVERBERG; "GIRLS OF ALASKA"; “WOMEN OF THE AIRWAVES”; E. JEAN
CARROLL PROFILES JOHN COUGAR MELLENCAMP; "WHAT WOMEN TALK ABOUT WHEN THEY TALK ABOUT.

MEN," BY SUSAN SQUIRE; AND MUCH, MUCH MORE

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Michelob’ invites you to enjoy an exceptional
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Its a rare combination of the robust flavor of
dark beer with the classic smooth and mellow
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WHERE YOU'RE GOING, IT'S MICHELOB.

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