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| INTERVIEW

INSIDE THE 2.
MEESE COMMISSION Ww
‚BY ROBERT SCHEE AS

BRIGITTE

REM АШ! NIELSEN,
AS HEROES | E As NUDE

| 20 QUESTIONS
| SIGOURNEY
WENER A

| DREAM la^ |

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PLAYBILL

AHOUT л YEAR AGO, Attorney General Edwin Meese formed а com-
mission, ostensibly to find out whether or not pornography
caused child abuse and other crimes, On the basis ofits findings,
the commission would make legislative proposals to Congress
concerning the possible regulation of porn. In 1970, a President's
c graphy had advised that
porn without violence posed no threat to society. But since then,
tant feminists and religious fundamentalists have formed an
alliance bent on eliminating materials that they deem unsuitable
from American newsstands, living rooms and dresser drawers.
They pointed at “new research” as proof that sex-related materi-
als caused a host of crimes against both women and children. It
didn't matter that the authors of the research had drawn no such
conclusions themsclves—just the opposite, in fact. The brou-
haha led some to think that an impartial new investigation of
porn might be in order. But impartiality went out the window
when Meese named a majority of antiporn zealots to the com-
n
tling lack of object among its
Scheer, the eminent Los Angeles Times

mmission on Obscenity and Po

mission. In our eyes, the serious purpose of the commiss

didn't mesh well with the s
personnel, We asked Robe

reporter and Playboy Interviewer (of Jimmy Carter, Oriana
Fallaci and John DeLorean, among others) to join the Meese

commission's tour as it held public hearings in American cit-
ies, Scheer, who usually reports on Presidential politics and mili-
tary defense, found himself audience to a three-ring circus
featuring hand-picked witnesses. suppressed evidence, distorted
research and built-in bias. He catalogs his findings in Inside the
Meese Commission. Read it and see your constitutional freedoms
walk the high wire.
What's faster than a speeding bullet, able to leap tall buildings
in a single bound and carries a Brooks Brothers charge card?
‘The top bosses who appear in the Forbes Four Hundred? Proba-
bly not, says Laurence Shames in Yikes! Business Superstars! (illus-
trated by acclaimed grafliti artist Keith Haring), a swipe at the
growing myth that businessmen are the new folk heroes. Lee
lacocca is not Superman, the AT&T divestiture probably
doesn’t have the grandeur of the fall of Rome and everybody
knows that magazine editors are the new folk heroes, right? Louise
Bernikow focuses on one of the main mythmakers in The Gospel
According to Tom Peters, about the man who wrote the book on
excellence. And Geoffrey Norman docs your homework for you in
Required Executive Reading, a guide to self-aggrandizing C.E.O.
biographies. If you're looking for a truly inspiring story, we rec
ommend Roger Malthie Makes the Cut, by Pete Dexter. We sent
Dexter out looking for a guy who'd devoted his life to profes-
sional golf but never gotten into the big money. Maltbie filled the
bill—unul Dexter started talking with him, whereupon he
started looking good. Next time, we're taking Dexter to the track.
‘Television comedy writer Bruce (Family Ties) David debuts this
month with 5.M.O.G., a cartoon feature he describes as “a
quasi-autobiographical account of my life, hopes and myriad
fears.” Bill Zehme talked with the Great One, Jackie Gleason, for
this month's Playboy Interview, and David Rensin asked Sigourney
Weaver 20 Questions. Don't miss Warren Murphy's hard-boiled hit-
man story, An Element of Surprise (illustrated by Andrzej
Dudzinski), part of a new anthology from William Morrow and
Company, and Dan Thropp's The Spanish Inquisition (illustrated
by Brad Holland), a Western romance with some modern kinks.
In the picture department, three treats from Contributing
Photographer Richard Fegley: First, Brigitte, starring Brigitte Niel-
sen, a.k.a. Mrs. Sylvester Stallone. Then, Reincarnation—photos
inspired by the work of artist Olivia De Berardinis (sec The Playboy
Gallery for a De Berardinis painting. backed by a sizzling picture
of Morgan Fairchild) and featuring 1976 Playmate of the Year
Lillian Maller, whose stage name is now Yuliis Revál. And finally,
you'll see the Fegley vision of this month's Playmate, Ava Fabian-
Some guys have all the luck. But there's lots more for you, lucky
reader, in our grown-up guy's guide to life. So let's get on with

SHAMES

HARING

BERNIKOW

=
=

RENSIN DAVID

DUDZINSKI

миКену FEGLEY

THKAFF HOLLAND

DE BERARDINIS

SURGEON GENERAL'S WARNING: Cigarette
Smoke Contains Carbon Monoxide.

11 mg. "tar", 0.8 mg. nicotina av. par cigarette by FTC method...

PLAYBOY

vol. 33, no. 8—august 1986 CONTENTS FOR THE MEN'S ENTERTAINMENT MAGAZINE

ELAYBIL ues veio o os MAD ae AGES peas 3
THE WORLD OF PLAYBOY. E 9

DEAR PLAYBOY. .... n
PLAYBOY AFTER HOURS T AS
SPORTS. eer e 4 E к TRA DAN JENKINS 27
MEN ^ ASA BABER 28
WOMEN. .... Е. CYNTHIA HEIMEL 30
IAGAINSTATHES WIND ое . CRAIG VETTER 33
DEAR PLAYMATES: HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT BEING THE OBJECTOF FANTASIES?... 35
THE PLAYBOY ADVISOR. ана 37
THE PLAYBOY FORUM . 41
PLAYBOY INTERVIEW: JACKIE GLEASON—candid conversation XM 49
INSIDE THE MEESE COMMISSION—investigative report ......... ROBERT SCHEER 60
DREAM BOATS—modern living 5. REG POTTERTON 62
BRIGITTE—pictorial....... TE EN PET LN Ser ee 70
YIKES! BUSINESS SUPERSTARS!—essay .................. LAURENCE SHAMES 78
THE GOSPEL ACCORDING TO TOM PETERS—article. ........ LOUISE BERNIKOW BO
TRAVEL TIPS OF THE RICH AND FAMOUS... ... RICHARD ond JOYCE WOIKOMIR 82
AN ELEMENT OF SURPRISE—fiction ............. red WARREN MURPHY 84

АУА GALORE—ployboy's playmate of the manth
PLAYBOY'S PARTY JOKES—humor

THE SPANISH INQUISITION—fictian .......................-
20 QUESTIONS: SIGOURNEY WEAVER....... E 25
ROGER MALTBIE MAKES THE CUT—personality- .... . .
ALEXANDER JULIAN'S SECRETS OF SUCCESSFUL STYLE—fashion
5.M.0.G.—humor .
REINCARNATION —pictorial
THE PLAYBOY GALLERY .
FAST FORWARD .
PLAYBOY ON THE SCENE . AO AI a See Ames U Cage

Slys Sweetie

August's Ava

Alexander's Advice

COVER STORY

You loved her on PLar&ov's pages as Lillian Müller, the gatefold girl from Nor-
way who became Playmate af the Year for 1976. Now, a decade later, she's
actress Yuliis Ruval, with a stack of movie and television credits to her new
name. The cover was shot by Contributing Photagrapher Richard Fegley and
produced by West Coast Photo Editor Marilyn Grabowski. You'll see more
Miller inside, in poses inspired by the erotic art of Olivia De Berardinis.

GENERAL OFFICES: PLAYBOY BUILDING. зія NORTH MICHIGAN AVE... CHICAGO, ILLINOIS воен. RETURN POSTAGE MUST ACCOMPANY ALL MANUSCRIPTS; ORAWINGS ANO PHOTOGRAPHS SUBMITTED IF THEY АМЕ TO DE

PLAYROY

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PLAYBOY

HUGH M. HEFNER
editor and publisher

ARTHUR KRETCHMER editorial director
and associale publisher
TOM STAEBLER ari director
GARY COLE photography director
С. BARRY COLSON executive editor

EDITORIAL

NONFICTION: JOHN REZEK articles editor; FIC-
TION: ALICE К. TURNER editor; TERESAGROSCH A1550-
Giate editor; WEST COAST: STEPHEN RANDALL
editor; STAFF: GRETCHEN EDGREN, WILLIAM J
HELMER, PATRICIA PAPANGELIS (administration),
DAVID STEVENS senior edilors; WALTER LOWE, JR
JAMES R. PETERSEN senior staff writers; BARBARA
NELLIS, KATE NOLAN, SUSAN MARGOLIS-WINTER
(new york) associate editors; BRUCE KLUGER assist
ant editor; MODERN LIVING: ED WALKER associate
editor; JIM HARKER assistant editor; FASHION:
HOLLIS WAYNE editor; CARTOONS: MICHELLE URRY
editor: COPY: ARLENE BOURAS edilor; JOYCE RUBIN
assistant editor; CAROLYN BROWNE, MARCY MARCHI
CAMPAGNA, PHILLIP COOPER, STEPHEN FORSLING, BARI
NASH, MARY ZION researchers; CONTRIBUTING
EDITORS: ASA BABER, E JEAN CARROLL, LAURENCE
GONZALES, LAWRENCE GROREL, DAN JENKINS, D. KEITH
MANO, ANSON MOUNT, REG POTTERTON, RON REAGAN,
DAVID RENSIN, RICHARD RHODES, JOHN SACK. DAVID
SHEFF, DAVID STANDISH, BRUCE WILLIAMSON (movies),
GARY WITZENDURG

ART
KERIC POPE managing director; CHET SUSK

LEN
WILLIS senior directors; BRUCE HANSEN, THEO KOU.
VATSOS associate directors; KAREN GNEBE, KAREN

GUTOWSKY junior directors; JOSEPH TACZER assist
ant director; FRANK LINDNER, DANIEL REED, ANN
SEIDL art assistants; KANDI KLINE traffic coordi-
nalor; BARBARA HOFMAN administrative manager

PHOTOGRAPHY

MARILYN GRABOWSKI west Coast editor; JEFF COHEN
managing edito DA KENNEY, JAMES LAKSON,
JANICE MOSES, MICHAEL ANN SULLIVAN associate edi
lors; PATTY BEAUDET assistant editor; POMPEO
Posar senior staff photographer; DID MECEY
KERRY MORRIS staff Photographers: DAVID CHAN
RICHARD FEGLEY. ARNY FREVTAG, RICHARD IZUI, STE
PHEN waypa contributing photographers; TRIA
HERMSEN, ELYCE KATOLAS slylists; JAMES WARD color
lab supervisor

PRODUCTION
JOHN MASTRO direclor; MARIA MANDIS manager:
FLEANORE WAGNER, JODY JURGETO, RICHARD
QUARTAROLI, RITA JOHNSON assistants

READER SERVICE

CYNTHIA LACEY-SIKICH manager; LINDA STROM,
MIKE OSTROWSKI correspondents

CIRCULATION
RICHARD SMITH director; ALVIN WIEMOLD Subserip-
tion manager

ADVERTISING
SAUL STONE director

ADMINISTRATIVE

J.P TIM DOLMAN assistant publisher; MARCIA
TERRONES rights ES permissions manager; EILEEN
KENT contracts administrator

PLAYBOY ENTERPRISES, INC.
CHRISTIE HEFNER president

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THE WORLD OF PLAYBOY

in which we offer an insider's look atwhat's doingand who's doing it
8

IT’S PARTY TIME

M.c. Whoopi Goldberg (left)
gets in on the bidding at a
Playboy Mansion West benefit on
behalf of Children of the Night,
an organization that helps
rescue teenaged prostitutes. The
silent auction was part of the

evening's entertainment and

many stars came out to shine.

The photos above and top right feature our birthday boy, who (believe it or not) turned
60 and celebrated with a big bash filled with family and friends. A tableful of familiar
faces congratulating our boss: Alexander Godunov and Jacqueline Bisset in the fore-
ground, Manhattan Transfer's Tim Hauser and January 1978 Playmate Debra Jensenin
the back. Between blowing out the candles and greeting his pals, Hef wasin his prime.

CARRIE'S A COVER
GIRL AGAIN

Hef's best girl, Carrie Leigh,
has been working out. As
anyone can see, it has paid
off. She made the cover of
Muscle and Fitness, and
bodybuilder/publisher Joe
Weider went to the Man-
sion to thank her (below).
Let's hear it for health!

KING CHONG

Playboy Home Video roasted comic
Tommy Chong (seated, below), and
you can enjoy the many yuks on
tape at your house beginning this
month. Chong's alter ego, Cheech
Marin, was unable to attend, so co-
median Bill (“You can call me John-
son") Saluga and host David Stein-
berg (below left) filled in the laughs.

MOONLIGHTING AT THE MANSION

Is the master giving out free advice to Moonlighting's Bruce
Willis? Can Hef help Willis! TV character get the girl? Not on
Fight Night at Playboy Mansion West, when most thoughts are
on Marvelous Marvin Hagler, John "The Beast" Mugabi,
Thomas Hearns and James Shuler. (Hagler and Hearns won.) 9

Show her the kind of forever you want to give her.

You always want her to
have the best of everything. Her
diamond engagement ring is a
fitting place to begin. So let it be
a diamond of the fes quality.

Today, that means spending

about 2 months' salary.

So take your time. See a
jeweler. Learn about the 4€ 5 that
determine a diamond quality:
Cut, color, clarity and carat-
weight. And send for our booklet,

"Everything Youd Love to Know...
About Diamonds." Just mail

$1.25 to DIC, Dept. DER-PL,
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After all, this is the one
thing that will symbolize your
love every day of your lives.
A diamond is forever.

15 2 months salary too much to spend

for something that lasts forever?

DEAR PLAYBOY

ADDRESS DEAR PLAYBOY
PLAYBOY BUILDING

919 N. MICHIGAN AVE.

CHICAGO, ILLINOIS 60611

SOUTHLAND: A VICTIM, TOO

1 read that the 7-Eleven stores have de
cided not to sell eravsov, which pisses me
off, because Гус always bought my copy of
pLayBoy at my local 7-Eleven. What do you
think of asking your readers to boycott
7-Eleven stores? I bet they'd lose more
money than they would being boycotied
by religious ics like Jerry Falwell. As
for me, Pm not shopping at 7-Elevens
until they start selling PLAYBOY again.

Tom D'arcy
Chicago, Illinois

We appreciate your support, Tom, as well
as the support of all the readers who've writ
ten to us to say that they're not shopping
at 7-Eleven anymore. But the Southland
Corporation, which vums 7-Eleven, is nearly
as much of a victim in this situation as we
are. It was threatened by a leiter from the
Meese commission that accused it of distribut
ing “pornography” and made the unfounded
and ludicrous suggestion that there was a
link between magazines such as PLAYEOY and
child abuse. Unfortunately, the Meese com
mission gave legitimacy to the opinions of
such individuals as the Reverend Donald
Wildmon, whose ravings were turned. into
expert testimony by the commission. We are, of
course, horrified that a Government office,
and the Attorney. General's. office m par
ticular, has been so misused as to effectively
blackmail legitimate businesses without the
sanction of either the courts or the legislature.
And we aren't alone in our dismay. The
Chicago Tribune итше in a May 2,
1986, editorial (sce this month's “Playboy
Forum") that the commission’s “loaded mes-
sage [to retail chains) is a gross abuse of Gou-
ernment power, It ought to be condemned,
you may think of the publications it
And that’s the point. Pass it on.

whateve

attacks.

TURNED ON BY TURNER

Your interview with Kathleen
(rtaynoy, May) is enlightening and revela-
tory. Гуе often wondered about the real
person behind the glittering and alluring

persona of this hypnotic, attractive and

ner

highly erotic movie actress. Your interview
reveals a sensitive, intelligent and extraor-
dinarily dedicated artist, whose commit-
ment to acting and dev

loping a sense of
personhood is as genuine and inspiring as
her unique and beautiful She's
undoubtedly the actress of the decade.
Teddy Ramscy
New York, New York

voice,

I'm an actor, and your interview with
Kathleen Turner is the best that I've had
the pleasure of reading in your pages. I
think that her comments on censorship
and those behind it are particularly inter-
esting. And from her insights on acting, I
feel that I've gained an extra something
that I can use on stage.

Thanks to your wonderful magazine for
an excellent interview and to Kathleen
Turner for being so open and, as we who
have read this interview know, so beauti-
ful. She also has the makings of one hell of
a drama teacher!

James A. Hopper
Athens, Texas

Kathleen makes one proud to be a
Turner. I'm sure Ted would agree.
Ed Turner

Visalia, California

I'm upset. Just when this 24-year-old
male was starting to look at women his
own age again, you have a foldout of
steamy Kathleen Turner. She's truly one
of the world’s most sexy women
Jeff Davison
Gardner, Kansas

LAW FOR PA?

Asa Baber has taken up the cudgel for
promale legislation (Men, rLavnow, May).
Then how about abortion? The feminist
doctrine, sanctified by your journal, insists
that whether or not a mother should abort
her baby is a matter to be decided by only
herself and her physician. The father need

not

ven be told that their mutual creation

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PLAYBOY

has been destroyed until he is confronted
with the fetus killer's bill. Is this an equal
right?
Leon A. Doughty
Palm Bay, Florida

Good question. Baber responds.

As far as I know, this issue hasn't yet been.
completely resolved in the courts, but surely
men aren't being treated equally if a prospec-
tive father is not consulted about a possible
abortion.

THIS BUTT'S FOR YOU

The Playboy Viewpoint written and held
by Robert Billings (“Little Pleasures,”
May) lit an ember under mc. 1n addition
to assigning stupidity to the wrong side of
the argument, Billings creates uneven par-
allels between smoking and drinking, ciga-
rette lawsuits and handgun lawsuits, ctc.,
ad nauseam, never straying too far from
the designation that makes our nation
uniquc— "land of the free.” And, I agre
it is a frec country. Further, I defend Bill-
ings’ right to select his little pleasures and,
thus, his right to smoke. But when he sees
fit to blow some smoke in my face, it
becomes my right to rip his tarry, black-
ened lungs out

David R. Kramp

Pontiac, Michigan

Three cheers for Billings! The Bi
Brotherism of which he speaks is slow
oozing into every area of our lives. Con

sumption of tobacco and of alcohol are
matters of individual adult freedom of
choice and should remain so. How far are
we willing to allow the I-know-what-is-
best-for-you people to go before we put our
foot down on their meddling with our vices
and pleasures?

Karen P. Munnerlyn

Georgetown, South Carolina

Billings, your right to smoke ends at my
lungs. You choose not to believe that
smoking is harmful to you. Fine. You
choose not to believe that secondhand
smoking is harmful to others around you.
Not fine—and irrelevant.

1 believe that your smoke harms me. I
am under no obligation to run away when
you come around, particularly in a public
assembly; nor must ] just sit and take it.
You impose on me, not vice versa. 1 also
believe in self-defense.

So go ahead and light up. Blow some
smoke in my face. You'll find out that
smoking will kill you. On the spot.

Perry M. Godfrey

Augusta, Georgia

HIGHTOWER TOO HOT TO HANDLE

Our entire crew was delighted to receive
your May issue and, in particular, your
pictorial on Janet Hightower (Fire Siren).
She is definitely the best-looking fre
fighter we've ever seen. In this small com-
munity in snowy Canada, just north of the

Idaho panhandle, the most exciting things
that ever happen to us are fire calls and
the arrival of your magazine. We were very
disappointed that Janet was asked to
resign from her former department.
Enclosed is a shoulder flash for her, as the
crew has elected her an honorary member
of the Ganyon-Lister Fire Deparument. We
will always have an opening in our depart-
ment for Janet and, in fact, we think she
could even become chief in short order.

Fire Fighters

Canyon-Lister Fire Department

Lister, British Columbia

rLAYDOY's chasing fire trucks again. Not
only did you ring the fire bell on your own
pages, you caused a three-alarmer on the
front page of the Houston Post, as well as
eight five- and ten-Pm. newscasts on all our
major radio and TV stations.

It's impossible to purchase that kind of
publicity—Ponderosa Volunteer Fire De-
partment is now on the map. It may even
help Hightower's career. The fire chief
who refused to cooperate with you guys
must be a wimp.

С. J. Stover

Houston, Texas

While checking out the sensational fire
fighter Janct Hightower in the May
pLaveoy, I got to wondering how her fellow
smoke eaters could waste time polishing
engines with her hanging around the

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100$ Soft Pack and 100's Menthol: 5 mg. “tar”, 0.4 mg. nicotine; 120's: 7 mg. “tar”, 0.6 mg. nicotine av, per cigarette, FTC Report Jan. 'B5.
Shims: 6 mg. “tar”, 0.6 mg. nicotine av. per cigarette by FTC method.

station. After viewing the incendiary

Hightower, I felt like polishing my engine!
Lanny R. Middings

л Ramon, California

LADIES OF LEGERDEMAIN
I've never seen Tricia Brown's magic

act (It’s Magic, eLavuoy, May), so I don't

know what kind of tricks she can perform,

but Гуе got to say that she has the best-

looking 38-year-old body I’ve ever seen.
Jerry Walker
Kalamazoo, Michigan

THAT KRAZY KIM
just finished reading your 20 Questions
with Kim Basinger (кїлүвоү, May) and
enjoyed it very much. She's what I wish
more women were: bright, beautiful and
touched in the head just cnough to getan
occasional laugh out of me.
Vic Peccarelli
Stockton, New Jersey

TREMORS ON RICHTERS
Your pictorial on Miss May, Christine
Richters, is outstanding. She gets my vote
for Playmate of the Year. If she's still look-
ing for a husband, Га love to spend the
rest of my life making her happy.
Thomas Kincaid
Tinley Park, Ilinois

Please assure Christine Richters that
there are young men in the world who
don't just watch MTV and aren't out for

just one thing—sex. Of course, they're all
down here at the University of Georgia.
Christine, if you're tired of shallow men,
please (with lots and lots of sugar on it)
come visit us in Georgia.
Fred Roller
University of Georgia
Athens, Georgia

BUSINESS DE GREED

Laurence Shames's article What They
Don't Teach You About Harvard Business
School (ryeov, May) addresses more
than the occasional anomaly being faced
by contemporary students majoring in
business administration.

When curriculums become overindul-
gent in so-called “arcane statistical formu-
las that have nothing whatsoever to do
with the customer or the product," and
when business-administration divisions
become less academic and more solipsis-
tic, a situation arises that tends to dimin-
ish the value of education.

Shames has chosen to dwell on Har-
vard, but the same argument could be
made concerning other top business
schools in America (Stanford, Wharton,
Chicago, Michigan, California, et al.)

Instead of beating the system, students
might ponder the concept of working with
it. One being taught and socialized in the
so-called sciences of supervision and man-
agement should also examine his or her
motives in the proverbial quest for riches

and implied status along the way
The internal grappling concerning eth-

ics and issues will still be a perennial
event; but, with a foundation rooted more
in philosophy and values and less in the
trendy Yuppie mentality, the business stu-
dent and future entreprencur will find
himself or herself at a real advantage.

Loren Richard Klahs

School of Business Administration

The University of Missouri

St. Louis, Missouri

Articles such as What They Don't
Teach You About Harvard Business School
are molded in the same fashion as
M.B.O., Japanese management and the
get-in-touch-with-yourself seminars of the
past. Now it's bash-those-money-hungry-
M.B.A.-degenerates-brains-in time, and
old Larry is right up front a-bashing. It
is time for this crap to stop. Larry, go be-
yond the big schools and dig deeper.

Do you really think you're bashing the
Harvard men and women? Well, you're
not! You're hurting people like me, who
toil away at second- and third-tier schools.
The Harvard types will continue to
demand top dollar. Articles such as yours
only cut into opportunities for us folks who
are not on the Harvard class roster.

Paul T. Carringer
Ohio University
Athens, Ohio

smoke

please try Carlton.

Te
E VAR
Т! а

Genuine D

LOOK GUYS, NOKEG.

Just twist a cap and you've got beer on tap.

New Miller Genuine Draft? is real draft beer in a bottle. It's not
heat-pasteurized, like most bottled beers. It's cold-filtered to give
you the smoothness and freshness of draft beer from a keg.

No way, you say? Tasting is believing.

PLAYBOY AFTER HOURS

SRI International, a hot Silicon
marketing think tank, eyeballs
everything you and your friends do and
then reports it to some of the most ambi-
tious companies in America. John L. Gar-
rett works in SRI's Values and Lifestyles
Program, accumulating thousands of bits
of information concerning everybody's liv-
ing and buying habits. He and his col-
leagues regularly examine their massive
trivia collection and fine-tune it to yield
a lifestyles composite from which they
attempt to predict future behavior for
those who are commercially interested

So what's next? Experience, says
геш. For e:
“Bang, zoom, to the moon, Alice!” SRI’s
data suggest that millions of sensible, well-
heeled grownups will wake up some morn-
ing, look around and decide that they own
enough stuff'and that they want something
else. Then they will lose i
material goods and rush to immerse them-
selves in the mental stimulation produced
by the printed word, entertainment, art
and, especially, adventure traveling. In
other words, doing, not owning things

A small perce the population is
already acquiring experience in such activ-
ities as canoeing down the Amazon, sa-
fariing through Zimbabwe, hang gliding
off La Jolla and helicopter skiing in Banff.
A signilicant mass is due t follow. The
SRI whizzes are advising travel agents to
look beyond Disneyland tours and to start
packaging experiences.

We plan to do all of the above real soon,
and then we'll audition for some sort of
beer commercial.

ley
nearly

mple, travel. You know, as in

terest in their

tage ol

WOMEN IN CHAINS

A feminist chain letter directed exclu-
sively to women promises to yield between
$7000 and $10,000 on a one-dollar invest-
ment. Despite the postal regulations
against such letters, this is at least one way
to boost female carnings.

We know one fellow who got involved in
the scheme. He sent the letter to his female

friends, urging them not to break the
chain—he needed the money for a sex
id

change, he s.

LETTER FROM NEW YORK CITY

Sal Piro, a paunchy, T-shirted, Jersey
City-born guy with a fingers-on-chalk-
board voice, serves as m.c. for the mayhem
surrounding the international cult classic
The Rocky Horror Picture Show, now in it
ninth year of midnight showings at the
Eighth Street Playhouse in the Village.
Doing what amounts to a 15-minute set
before the film, Sal—who is closing in on
his 1000th performance as master ghoul—
could be called the Don Rickles of the Vil-
lage, in that most of his shtick involves
reading aloud (and commenting on) notes
that have been passed to him by fans in the
audience who want to humiliate their
friends, usually along these lines: “Hi, Sal
Pm here with my cousin from Staten
Island, and she's a virgin [she hasn't seen
the film before]. Pop her cherry, please.”
And Sal dutifully mimes the

sometimes tearing up the aisle to find the
party in question, like a frantic and ethnic
Phil Donahue, other times exhorting the
audience to do a group “pelvic thrust” in
the direction of the victim. He'll even
break dance for you if he feels that the
moment is right

But most of the time,
decimations: “A virgin from
Island, ch? Gee, what a surprise.” Or
“Honey, if you're a virgin and want to get
fucked, you'd better stop wearing those
clothes.” Or, to a rowdy Hispanic guy
“Hey, asshole—shut up. You look like a
Menudo reject. Why don’t you just go
home and jerk off, like you do every other
night? PI even lend you the tweezers.”

Ifyou do take in the show, remember to
keep your ticket stub, because there's a
door prize at every performance—usually
a large cardboard replica of a penis. And
as it’s presented, the audience chants en
masse, "Everybody's fa greeting
card—the three-foot dick.” Then again,
you may not be interested.

PS. Maxilla & Mandible, a shop
located near Manhattan's Columbus Ave-
nue, advertises “Skulls—everything from
mouse to
bones, horns, skins and teeth." Just the
place to shop until you drop. It’s at 78
West 82nd Street, 212-724-6173.

P.P.S. When we called New York City
directory assistance one recent morning,
the operator answered, “Good morning,
Miss Fortune.”

We said, “Wrong number.”

al relies on verbal
Staten

vorite

elephant, including human

OFF THE CASTING COUCH, IKE

Crossing the street the other day, we di
covered a dog wearing sunglasses,

was having a little trouble crossing the
street. His

who

nd he suffers from
a complaint we fear is rampant among
America's canines. Ike has been turned
down for The David Letterman Show's
stupid-pet-tricks feature

"Stupid pet tricks,” harrumphed
George, who is his friend and agent, more
or less. “Ike doesn't do tricks. He doesn't

ame is Ike,

THE CASE FOR INDECISIVENESS

Know whats got guys down these
days? No, not women. That would be
too much fun. The dilemma of the man
of the Eighties is dilemma itself. What
stockbrokers call the range of options.
What you and I call choice. Consider:
In order to survive, the male of today
must be able to select a good Mexican
restaurant, the right orthodontist, the
maximum house at the minimum flex-
ible mortgage rate and the lesser idiot
every fourth November. Not to men-
tion a mate, a car, a
condom, a college
and a hunting partner
who knows the difler-
ence between a duck
and the back of your
head. Life isn't a
bitch and then you
die. Ivs a multiple-
choice test.

In fact, a new study.
from the little-known
yet highly esteemed
Massachusetts Insti-
tute of Terminology
asserts that the coun-
try is in the grips of

(M.L), an extremely contagious
drome first diagnosed in 1985 duri
the routine urinalysis of a Coca-Cola
executive. Described as “the recurrent
ability to make up your mind and
MLL. is said to affect
every second American, as long as that
meri male.

The study doesn't explain “the
unusual and perhaps unprecedented
sexist pathology of M.L,” but lead
Jolene Thibedeaux theo-

les arc immune because
hromosome structure,
ced at birth with the XY
fected,

or God is a woman after all.
A counterargument could be made
that women never have to make up
their minds anyway. Whatever—the
explosive growth of M.L. in this decade
can almost certainly be traced beyond
genetic niumbo-jumbo to the techno-
historic fact that we all have a lot more
stupid things to choose from.
In the Cave-Dwelling Era

the only
n, if thal’

h a monkey or with a Gro-M
or, in selected areas, with Rae Dawn
Chong. By Hamlet's day, the options
had grown more complex, forcing the
Danish prince to decide whether (A) to
be or not to be, (B) to kill or not to kill,
(C) to act or to overact.

The 20th Century has pushed every.
body's balls to the wall. Between

godless communism and heartless capi-
talism, Adidas and Nike, Big Macs and
Whoppers and Kramer versus Kramer,
you don’t know if you're comi
going. To hear Annie Lennox of the
Eurythmics wail, “When will you make
up your mind? I can't stand it" is to
experience the angst of the Eighties,

Since life is so maddeningly compli-
cated, the conventional response has
been to encourage men, and not just the
President, to simplify. Marines, for ex-
ample, are taught that
despite ten zillion possible
ways to attack an impreg-
nable position, the sim-
plest t is the frontal
assault. This is why there
are so few Marines.

For the rest of us,
though, it’s time to talk
liberation from the tyr-
anny of selection. The
world has enough gener-
als, judge, СЕО,
in-laws, prima donnas,
preachers, Puritans and
monobrain dickheads to
take care of decisions till
Teddy Kennedy gets skin-
ny. What we don't have are sufficient
men with the gonads to say, “Fuck if 1
know. You decide.”

That's why the discovery of M.
it’s valid, and I'm not saying it is—is so
important. Far from being the debil
tating aberration that client-hungry
psychologists describe, M.I. is, in fi
a long-overdue species mutation. After
250,000 years, we are evolving a genetic
saleguard against living with our deci-
sions. Men driven to the limit with one
damn thing alter another can only greet
this strange new reagent in their blood—
М.І. semplex—with the same wonder
primates once accorded the develop-
ment of the thumb.

Do not fear МІ. Do as Marlon
Brando did with horror in Apocalypse
Now. Make M.l. your friend. Think
about it—if you can make up your
mind—with whom would you rather
pal around, a guy who wants to call all
the shots or somebody who wants to
talk it over? Stand up for indecision.
Dare to be indefinite. Make somebody
else expose his infantile need for con
trol. Spread M.L Tell yourself, “IF
women can hustle this shit, so can 1,”
Anyone who's ever been married,
bought stock or tried a new fast-food
burger knows that making d i
far less satisfying than mul
over—and usually less hazardous.

The great advantage to never mak-
ing dec is that you'll also fuck up
less. Is this not the goal of adulthood?

— ROD DAVIS

have to—he can act.”

For a moment, we watched Ike, who
seems to be а collie/German shepherd
mix, and while he's no Mike the Dog, he
showed some emotive power in a sort of
James Dean monosyllabic way. Arf. Aw,
maybe it was just his Ray-Bans. George
says that Ike has a deal cooking with
Pearle Vision Centers.

"VIRGIN SETS UP PRES IN HOLIYWOOD,
stated the Variety headline on an article an-
nouncing the opening of a Hollywood
office by Virgin Vision, Inc., a TV produc-
tion house.

LOUD CUISINE

Nouvelle cuisine is out; noisy dining is in.
It's now de rigueur for even four-star spots to
sound like a Meat Loaf concert. Here are
contributor Abe Peck's ten picks for America's
most aural gustatory experiences:

+ Mauna Loa’s—Hawaii's liveliest spot
erupts hourly with the finest maui-maui.
Be sure to try the lava poi
Ma Barnyard—Ma Maison may once
have had Los Angeles’ hottest unlisted
phone; at Ma Barnyard, you can't hear it
ring. Deal making is the specialty of the
house, in an ambience made to order for
agents who want to deny everything the
next day.

+ Jack Hammers—Who'd expect aba-
lone this good in a San Francisco trolley
barn? Just don't sit on the tracks after the
conductor rings the dinner bell.

“Ground Zero—Southwestern food
updated with Los Alamos’ trademark
20-kiloton bang. The blue-corn tacos arc
glowing. (The owners also operate Nukies,
just outside Las Vegas.)

= Soup-Bowl Shuffle—Chicago's latest
eatery isn't greedy; it just wants to feed the
needy. Very large waiters rap and bark
about Bear broth; Dolphin chowder, purée.
of Lion and other big-game selections are
in the Refrigerator,

«Ted Nugent’s—Heavy-metal dining,
Detroit style, combines kielbasa and ribs
hot off the assembly line.

= Quasimodo's—This newly converted
church in the French Quarter of New
Orleans serves up redfish bruyant, canard
retentissant and soufflé tapageur while Dix-
icland bands play a variety of songs simul-
taneously. Ask for Maric.

= Моеъ Stone-Deaf Crab—Succulent
South Florida shellfish is accented with
staccato bursts of MAC-10 fire from
Miami vendors.

+ SST— Dulles Airport offers the Wash-
ington area's highest-pitched food. Great
whine list.

+ Brmmm Street —This SoHo punker
palace attracts bikers of all persuasi
Manhattan. Try the knuckle sandwiches
while you still can chew—or hear.

WISE WORDS

“I was a celebrity for celebrity's sake,
and it was degrading.” — PIA ZADORA

Sambuca Romana...
to enhance your after-dinner coffee.
To drink Con Mosca,
with three coffee beans
and a halo of flame.
Our Sambuca Romana
recipe book has 55 other ways
to enjoy the taste of Italy.
Sambuca Romana, 84 Pf.

| Imported by Palmer & Lord, Ltd.,

Syosset, N.Y. 11791.

PLAYBOY

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CHARLES M. YOUNG

Gor ro ломит that I was prepared to
hate Van Halen's 5150 (Warncr) on the
grounds that Sammy Hagar, David Lee
Roth’s replacement on vocals, is an unmit-
igated asshole. Then I listened to it—
always a mistake for a heavy intellectual
critic such as myself—and now I have to
revise my assessment to mitigated asshole.
The guy's a witless boor, definitely, and so
shameless that he publishes his lyrics
(most of the words аге his, I’m told) on the
sleeve for the first time in Van Halen his-
tory, demonstrating for all with eyes that
original thinking comes in about 13th on
the band's ro po list. When Roth used to
sing about lust, he was often quite funny,
and you felt somehow vindicated as a
male. When Hagar sings about lust (Good
Enough), you feel like apologizing to ran-
dom women on the street, and you certain-
ly don't believe the hackneyed attempts at
love songs elsewhere on the album. On the
other hand, if I excised all the boors from
my record collection, I'd have about three.
albums left. Hagar's vocal cords ain't bad,
being of the genuine simulated Robert
Plant variety that's standard in commer-
cial metal. And he apparently makes
Eddie Van Halen happy id Eddie Van
Halen remains this gencration's Beetho-
ven of the electric guitar, and he's pretty
good on synthesizer, too. On balance, ГЇЇ
listen to 5150 again; but I'm for sure toss-
ing this goddamn sieeve.

I'm for sure keeping the sleeve from
Carnivore (Greenworld/Roadracer, 20445
Gramercy Place, Torrance, California
90501), which makes Sammy Hagar sound
like the semimitigated wuss that he is.
Carnivore has created here a thrash-metal
concept album, sort of the Sgt. Pepper of
cannibalism, sung by a Gonan-type char-
acter who is tracking down the survivors of
a nuclear war and eating them. It also lays
out some trenchant social commentary
explaining the failure of modern feminism
with stunning clarity (“Woman will never
know or understand the power men fee! 10
ll with their hands"). But what I really
about Garnivore is the fact that
below the lyrics (“1 live for sodomy
band thanks its moms and dads,

NELSON GEORGE
To a new member of the record-buying
public, Earth, Wind & Fire is one of those

bands your older brother liked, and Philip
Bailey is the guy who sang Easy Laver with
Phil Collins. But Bailey’s third solo
album, Inside Out (Columbia), produced
by Nile Rodgers, has no echoes of his pre-
vious emplovers’ sound. The only song
that recalls Baileys past is Back It Up,
which sounds less like That's the Way of the
World than like Easy Lover.

Ludwig Van Halen

Van Halen gets a new singer,
heavy Bob gets light and
Katrina gets up.

Sull, Inside Out is a pleasing collection
with plenty of commercial potential. The
first single, State of the Heart, is OK; like
most records on the radio, it sounds better
the more you hear it. Far superior are
Don't Leave Me Baby, with its chunky
Chiclike sound, the mid-tempo and lyri-
cally engaging Long Distance Love and
Because of You, in which Bailey's angelic
harmonies are placed in an appropriately
stylish setting. His vocals aren't as chal-
lenging as on his gold album Chinese Wall;
nor are the arrangements as surprising.
But overall, this may be, song for song, an
even more consistendy rewarding effort

If Earth, Wind & Fire was the good guy
black band of the Seventies, Parliament/
Funkadelic was its raunchy alter ego. The
ringmaster of the P-Funk circus was
George Clinton, who, on R&B Skeletons (in
the Closet) (Capitol), is still funny. The
title song recites the sad tale of a black
singer who has sold his soul to the demon
of pop crossover. All seven cuts are dense
with musical puns and allusions, while the
background arrangements are as fascinat-
ly weird as the album covers. And
that's pretty weird.

ROBERT CHRISTGAU

Occasional jingoistic exploitations such
as last ycar's Amber Waves of Grain cn-
courage citified ignoramuses to believe
that Merle Haggard can't see beyond
Muskogee. But over the years, the man’s
musical sophistication has surpassed even

Willie Nelson’s. His Strangers are a
stripped-down modernization of Bob
Wills’s Texas Playboys; his soft timbre and
lazy swing are marks of a singer who'll
never get old; and, unlike Nelson, he keeps
writing. Of course, Haggard is the kind of
pro who makes decent albums often and
real good ones almost never and, thus, A
Friend in California (Epic) is his best since
his 1981 Epic album debut, Big City, if not
since his 1979 Serving 190 Proof, for
MCA. Even so, it’s hit or miss; but for
once, the hits win, among them the Floyd
the mariachi-tinged title
tune, the rueful yet jaunty Texas, the grate-
ful yet unreconstructed Mama’s Pray
and, oh, yes, The Okie from Muskogee
Comin’ Home. Those who'd like another
ig should sample His Best, the first of
two recent (and overdue) MCA com-
pilations—which would be even more con-
sistent if MCA hadn't saved a little best
for the accompanying Songwriter.

No matter how hard I try, I can’t di
cern much substance in the songs Katrina
Leskanich sings. And no matter how hard
I try, I don't care. For me—these things

GUEST SHOT

Southside Johnny Lyon is one of
America's most highly regarded soul
rockers. And his latest LP, “Al Least We
Got Shoes” (Atlantic), gets down to the
basics. It made sense to us to ash South-
side what he thought of Bob Seger's
new one, “Like a Rock” (Capitol).

“Bob Seger has always impressed
me with his conviction and compas
sion. And this record is no excep-
tion. What Seger does best is tell
stories about people. And you know
he really cares about the people in
his songs; he’s got that in common
with Springsteen, Petty and Mellen-
camp. There's not a lot of over-
blown studio gimmickry here. This
record has some kick-ass rock "n'
roll and three really terrific ballads.
Seger sings them emotionally but
with sparseness. He lets the emotion
come out of the story itself —and
that’s what people want to hear
more than anything else, that cmo-
tion. And that’s why Bob Seger has
lasted so long.”

FAST TRACKS

OCK

METER

Joe Jacksoi
E V | 4 | 5 | TÈ | 6 | 2
Katrina and the | | | | |

Revolution
Porade e 7 9 5 7
Bob Si
A El 2LL ll >
Van Hale
5150 е ало

RUMOR HAS IT DEPARTMENT: We hear that
Stephen Pearcy, lead singer of Ratt, has
done a nude layout for Playgirl and
that the magazine is interested in other
rock stars. Equal opportunity for all.

REFUNG AND ROCKING: Phil Collins is
working on a 90-minute documentary
based on his No Jacket Required tou
its due for theatrical release this
year. . . . Allen Klein is olfering private
collectors a $10,000 reward for film
footage of Som Cooke performing his
classic Wonderful World. Call Allen, not
us. . . . INXS leader Michael Hutchence is
working on Dogs m Space, a movie
about a struggling musician and h
girlfriend. . . . Tina Tumer has been
offered a part in the film version of a
British TV show called Widows, about
three women who pull off a big heist
after their husbands are killed. Cherand
Elizabeth Taylor have been approached
about playing the two other leads. . . .
Former Go-Go Jane Wiedlin has a part in
Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home. . . . Elvis
Costello makes an appea
a new Britis
Surrender. . . . Look for Tom Waits in his
first major film role, as a disc jockey in
Down by Law.

NEWSBREAKS: Bob Geldofs Live Aid
attire has been donated to Madame
"Tussaud's Wax Museum in London,
where it will clothe his likeness
Robbie Robertson will finally have a solo
album out, but not until early next
year... . Rubén Blades will sing part of
his next album in English. It will fea-
ture songwriting collaborations with
Dylan, Elvis Costello, Paul Simon and Lou
Reed. Blades has written Spanish lyrics
for the Dylan melody. . . . On the road
this summer: Joe Walsh, Eric Burdon, an
Aliman Brothers reunion, Joe Jackson,
Katrina and the Waves and the Beach
Boys’ 25th-anniversary hoopla. . . - San
Francisco is going ahead with plans to

build its own rock museum, even
though Cleveland has been chosen as
the home for The Rock and Roll Hall of
Fame. .. . The 20th Montreux Jazz
Festival is on in Switzerland, with
headliners including Eric Clapton, Albert
King, Manhattan Transfer and George
Benson. . . . Patti LaBelle, Dionne Warwick
and Gladys Knight arc teaming up for an
HBO special called Sisters in the Name
of Love. . . . The Bee Gees will return to
touring this winter as a quartet with
brother Andy. On the itinerary is their
home ground, Australia, where they
haven't performed for 12 years
Keep your eyes on the E Streeters—
drummer Max Weinberg won't be tour-
ing with Brian Setzer after all. 1t seems
The Boss has called the band into the
studio to record some new material he’s
been working on, . . . Willy De Ville is
going to record his next album with the
assistance of Mark Knopfler. De Ville
says he may record a Knopfler song if
it’s right for him, or maybe they'll write
something together. “On a balmy eve-
w Orleans, anything is pos
ble,” he says. . . . The new Talking
Heads film will be accompanied by two
sound-track albums (one with lyrics,
onc that’s just the score) and a
book. . . . Record sales slowed dramat-
ically last winter and early spring.
Only two albums, debuts by A-ha and
The Hooters, went platinum during that
time, and only four went gold. Multi-
platinum awards were up, however,
thanks to Sade, Kool and the Gang and
Whitney Houston. . . . Finally, а few
words from Craig Chaquico of The Star-
ship on petalos at the Grammys: “I
can remember . . . looking at the front
row and seeing Stevie Wonder, Lionel
ie, Michael Jackson, Phil Collins and
id thinking, This is a little
idating but real exciting, too."
— BARBARA NELLIS

are very personal—she's like a lesser
Aretha, possessor of one of those rare
voices that are their own reason for being,
Feed her gutsy contralto some simple pop
tunes and it'll make the simple pop tru-
isms soar. Admiuedly, how high they soar
varies with the tune and with her enthusi-
asm. But even though Katina and the
Waves’ Waves (Capitol) should have been
called Katrina, it's all an up.

DAVE MARSH

Bob Segers 1982 The Distance
responded to the onslaught of Britpop
fashion bands with songs deeply rooted in
the economically and spiritually depresse
Rust Belt, kicking off the so-called Ameri-
can invasion. Unfortunatcly, Like a Rock
(Capitol) proceeds as if the most interest-
ng music made since then has been
Kenny Rogers and Sheena Easton's duet on.
Seger's We've Got Tonight. These arrange-
ments are mushy and the songs are heavily
repetitious—not even Segers always
xcellent singing can save them. At his
best, he illuminates the straits facing
working-class Americans as well as Mel-
lencamp and Springsteen do, but with the
exception of The Ring, a fine pearl about a
marriage gone wrong, the ly
insular and stuffy as the music. Yoi
better glimpse of Seger's rocking ability on
Fortunate Son, the B side of the American
Storm single. But the A side, a virtual par-
ody of 1983's Even Now, would sound just
as good coming from Rogers.

Dobie Gray's From Where I Stand (Capi-
tol) traverses the same territory, but it
works better, because Gray, who may be
the finest black singer ever to light up a
Nashville studio, bears down if his
carcer depended upon every one of his love
ballads and good-ol’-boy anthems—
which it probably does.

VIC GARBARINI

Pat Metheny and Ornette Coleman / Song X
(Geffen): This is the album Metheny has
been threatening to make for years. Fans of
his "lifestyle" jazz are going to have to
make the jump to light speed as Pat dog-
fights with Ornette, alternately echoing
Coleman's deceptively simple melodies
and matching his extraterrestrial frenzy.
There is method in this madness.
ith Jarrett / Standards Live (ECM): Jar-
rett's rippling genius as he soloes on these
chestnuts shows that he’s no prisoner of
his own, more familiar, modal improvs.
Jack DeJohnette is brilliant, as usual. And
Pm sure the Tasmanian-devil growls and
yelps are therapeutic. They are also
incredibly irritating.

Marc Johnson / Bass Desires (ECM): B
ist Johnson, guitarists Bill Frisell and John
Scofield and frequent Weather Report
drummer Peter Erskine mesh organically
for some of the most refreshing and adven-
turous ensemble work in jazz today.

The Chicago Transit Authority

Jim McMahon 1986

ALWAYS WEAR A HELMET

Announcing

THE NATIONAL HISTORICAL SOCIETY

CIVILWAR CHESS SET

Richly detailed portrait sculptures of great American heroes
—in solid pewter, solid brass and fine enamels.
An heirloom chess set to be enjoyed for generations.
Created by the world-famous craftsmen of The Franklin Mint.

THE NATIONAL HISTORICAL SOCIETY is
dedicated to bringing the excitement and
power of American history—as well as its
significance —to people in every part of
the land.

It is in keeping with this purpose that
the Society is about to issue its own Civil
War Chess Set. A dramatic tribute to the
heroes of both North and South—and a
work all the more intriguing because the
playing pieces include richly detailed
three-dimensional portrait sculptures of
the great Generals of Union and Confed-
eracy, captured for the ages in solid pew-
ter, solid brass and fine enamels.

Major General
William Tecumseh Sherman

BISHOP

General in Chief
Ulysses S. Grant

KING

This extraordinary new chess set will be
crafted to the highest standards of quality
and historical authenticity. The National
Historical Society has appointed The
Franklin Mint to create the sculptures,
each of which vill be a new and original
design. Some figures will be shown stand-
ing, some seated, some kneeling, some
mounted on horseback. And each figure
will be painstakingly crafted of solid pew-
ter, hand-finished, then set atop a solid
brass pedestal base embellished with a cir-
cular band of richly colored enamel —blue
for the soldiers of the North, gray for
those of the South.

Every sculpture, moreover, will be so
rich with authentic detail that only the
artists and master craftsmen of The Frank-
lin Mint, steeped as they are in the tradi-
tion of precision coinage, could have
achieved it. Indeed, every nuance of facial
expression, uniform and weaponry —right
down to the buttons, braiding, sabers and
carbines—will be depicted with meticu-
lous accuracy.

Thus, The National Historical Society
Civil War Chess Set is also a magnificent
collection. A triumphant achievement of
portrait sculpture—and the ultimate in
micro-detailed miniaturization.

ALL FIGURES SHOWN ACTUAL. SIZE.

Major General

JE.B. Stuart
KNIGHT
General in Chief
Robert E. Lee
KING

Available only by direct subscription. Issue Price: $17.50 per sculptured chess piece.
Limit: One complete set per subscriber. Please enter your subscription by September 30, 1986.

A dramatic showpiece
for your home or office

The chessmen themselves are scaled so
that each one will suit the function as-
signed to it in the game of chess. And the
handsomely crafted, pewter-finished play-
ing board has been sized with equal care.
Specially fitted, to also serve as the cover
for the case which will house all 32 playing
pieces, the board completes a presentation
so attractive that the chess set will be
Played and displayed with pride and satis-
faction. A Certificate of Authenticity, and
specially written reference materials, will
also be provided.

Exhibited on a table or cabinet in your
living room, family room, den or office,
this is a possession certain to evoke both
admiration and respect from all who see it.
A unique tribute to unique Americans. A
work of heirloom quality, that vill bring
you endless pleasure through the years.
And a chess set eminently worthy of being
passed on from generation to generation.

The subscription rolls are now open.
‘The work may be obtained only by direct
subscription, with a limit of one complete
set per subscriber.

This handsorne pewter-finished chessboard and fitted presentation case will be provided as part of the set.

The chessmen will be issued to you at
the attractive price of $17.50 each, with
the specially designed playing board and
protective case provided at no additional
charge. As a subscriber, you will receive
two sculptured pieces every other month.
You will, however, be billed for only one
chessman at a time—a total of just $17.50
per month. In addition, you will have the
option to complete your set earlier, if you
wish—but you will be underno obligation
to do so.

Here, then, is a work that will bring
lasting pleasure to chess enthusiasts, hi:
tory buffs, collectors of military minia-
tures—to anyone who appreciates our
nation's heritage. Indeed, an unmis-
takably American chess set, that will make
a dramatic addition to any room. And an
exciting showpiece that will be displayed,
enjoyed and treasured by each succeed-
ing generation.

To acquire The National Historical Soci
ety Civil War Chess Set, no advance pay-
ment is required. But please note that the
accompanying Subscription Application is.
dated and should be returned postmarked
by September 30, 1986.

‘The National Historical Society

CIVIL WAR CHESS SET
Please mail by September 30, 1986.

The National Historical Society

C/o The Franklin Mint.

Franklin Center, Pennsylvania 19091

Please enter my subscription for The National
listorical Society Civil War Chess Set, consist-

ing of 32 chessmen.

I need send no money now. I will receive
two new playing pieces every other month,
but will be billed for just one piece at a time —
$17.50" per month—beginning when my
first shipment is ready to be sent. I will receive
the fitted presentation case and pewter-
finished chess board at no additional charge.

"Plus my state sales tax and $.50
per chessman for shipping and handling.

Signature

Mr./Mrs./!
ims e
my a

State, Zip — — =
Limit: One complete set per subscriber.
269

THE HIGHWAY is more indisputably Ameri-
can than just about anything else—even
television. The road, as a pure physical
fact, is immense. The concrete poured into
the interstate system would cover West
Virginia. As an economic fact, the high-
way looms even larger. It props up the
automobile business, the oil business, an
incalculable proportion of the fast-food
business, motels, the tire business,
bumper-sticker production, Lee lacocca's
book, car washes, insurance and who
knows what else. The road accounts for
40,000 deaths annually by crashes and no
telling how many more from such side
elects as pollution and mobile crime. And,
inevitably, the highway provides the spi
itual landscape for books, movies and
plays by everyone from Sam Shepard to
William Least Heat Moon. Now Phil Pat-
ton has written Open Road (Simon & Schu-
ster), an effort to come up with some kind
of critical appraisal of the road that will do
for our thinking of it what Marshall
McLuhan did for television an epoch or
two back. This 1s a good book, if slightly
pedantic in places—insightful and witty.
‘The sort of book that makes you look
again, and with fresh eyes, at something
that has always been there.
.

George V. Higgins’ new novel, Impostors
(Holt), is a story of crime and corruption
in a small Massachusetts town. The crime
is a 20-ycar-old murder; the corruption is
its cover-up. And every character in this
mess of lies and manipulation is an impos-
tor. Higgins combines some off-stage vio-
lence with a lot of sex and pages of dialog
(his trademark) to make a witty, gritty,
lively novel.

.
Anatoly Shcharansky spent nine ycars
ioviet prisons and labor camps because
he wanted to live in Israel. The Russians,
in their usual hopeless clumsiness, accused.
him of espionage and treason, held him
without trial for 16 months and, after sen-
tencing him to 13 years, unexpectedly gave
him his freedom last February, thanks to
the publicity campaign waged by his. bat-
tling wife, Avital. Her un!
the cause of Jewish emigration caught and
held the media spotlight around the world
throughout the 11 years the young couple
were separated. British author and Jewish-
affairs expert Martin Gilbert finished his
biography, Sheharansky (Viking), two
weeks before his subjects release and
therefore cannot be accused of rushing into
print, but the book is both ponderous and
jumpy, as if written in haste. This is
regrettable, because Shcharansky is one of
the authentic heroes of this or any other
time: He's a fat little man who gave the
Kremlin the finger and got away with it.
To understand what it takes to survive
nine ycars in Sovict slammers, read the let-

Patton eases down the Open Road.

Exploring America's Open Road;
fast-food history;
Kliban puts his tongue in it.

ters to his wife and family: A strong voice

and powerful friends did their part, but
what got the Shcharanskys through the
ordeal was their faith, love and courage.
б
As America munched its way westward
in the 1870s, hungry passengers on Kansas

selves victimized by train crews and depot
caterers who arranged for meals to be
served at the very moment the train
started pulling out. Revenues from
uneaten food, which would be saved for
the next trainload of pioncers, were
divided between caterer and crew. This
profitable scam continued until Fred Har-
vey, a railroad postal clerk, devised a sys-
tem of whistle signals to order passengers”
meals before the trains arrived. This prob-
ably didn’t make him too popular with the
guys, but it led to a string of honest restau-
rants along the line and to the nationwide
chain that still carries his name. It’s a long
jump from the bad old days to the not-so-
great present—when more than 340
chains and some 60,000 fast-food joints
have reduced a country of great natural
beauty and varied terrain and climate to a
bland smear of sameness—but the dis-
tance is covered in detail in Philip Lang-
don's fascinating Orange Roofs, Golden
Arches (Knopf). The subtitle describes it
as the architectural history of American
chain restaurants, but it’s a lot more than
that: It’s also a social and cultural story,
amply illustrated with postcards, photo-
graphs, architectural renderings and floor

plans that demonstrate the shrewd genius
of the modern-day corporate hash slingers
and their philosophy of “Get ‘em in and
get’em out.”

There is an alternative to schlepping a
Robert Ludlum tome to the beach, and it’s
Nobody Lives Forever ( Putnam's), the fifth of
the James Bond series written by British
thriller writer John Gardner alier the
torch was passed to him by the estate of
the late lan Fleming. While motoring
through France, Bond is suddenly up to
his ninc-mm ASP automatic in carnage
that's not just for his eyes only. Someone,
it seems, has offered 10,000,000 Swiss
francs for 007's head on a silver platter
and has even erected a guillotine to do the.
job. In Nobody Lives Forever, Gardner
gives good Bond; read it to discover if
Bond gives good head.

Peter Matthiessen writes beautifully
about the natural world, a skill that has
probably kept him from being even more
widely recognized than he is. But he is no
“nature writer.” He writes about con-
Aict—spiritual and economic. His latest
book is called Men's lives: Surfmen and
Baymen of the South Fork (Random House),
and in it, he faithfully details the passing
of a way of The men who have made a
living and fed millions from the waters off
Long Island are disappearing. In some
cases, so are the fish they catch. Itis a sad
story and a familiar one, but Matthiessen
‚es it a freshness and poignancy it seems
otherwise to have lost in the frequent
retelling. Th a book that ma
first pity the victims of hum.
edness and then rage ag;
gance of those who are responsible. Still, if
these sturdy and self-reliant men had to
pass on, it is good that they had Pater
Matthiessen to write their elegy.

If you're one of those people whose eye:
glaze over when the subject of black his:
tory comes up, do yourself a favor and
read The Hornes (Knopf), subtitled “An
n Family” by Gail Lumet
Buckley. Without rhetoric or bitterness—
an act of heroic self-control in itself— the
author leads us through two centuries of
America's longest-lasting nightmare and
explains in lucid and unequivocal prose
how the experience of bigotry shaped the
remarkable Horne family and its most
famous member, the author's moth
Lena Horne. This is a family that was as-
saulted by both sides—by those darker
blacks who envied the education and pros-
perity of the light-skinned Hornes and by
the whites who saw them as niggers, plain
and simple. The story inevitably has its
horrifying moments, not the least of which
is the Georgia lynching of a young black
woman, eight months pregnant, who was

hanged upside down; while she was still

alive, her stomach was slit with a hunting
rates and the baby trampled to death
Through Buckley's eyes, we sce two faces

of the American dream: the white myth of

log cabin to White House, the black reality
of Ph.D. to Pullman porter. So itis all the
more remarkable—and should be a genu-
ine source of pride for those who care
about their country—that this product of
the “beige bourgeoisie” concludes that in
a new and wiser America, the dream is at
last open to all.

Tales of Times Square (Delacorte) is a
nasty and endlessly fascinating account of
life in and around America’s most infa-
mous scum pit, which is now in the last
stages of its long-predicted demise from
bubonic sleaze. Josh Alan Friedman, who
writes the “Naked City” ratings column
for Screw, is just the man for the job. This
pungent and often hilarious book is the
evidence. You may not like what you read,
but you won't soon forget the report on the
young wife who wanted to set a gang-bang
record—83 men, including her husband
or the story of the owner of Plato's Retreat,
who wagered he could m 15 orgasms
in a day. The rest of Friedmaws cast
includes a crowded line-up of strippe
porn brokers, pimps, hookers, cops and
Runyonesque old-timers, all of them per-
forming in the longest-running show that
Broadway ever saw. It was never a pretty
sight but, oh, what a spectacle!

BOOK BAG

The Biggest Tongue in Tunisia and Other
Drawings (Penguin), by B. Kliban: Our
April and May excerpts from cartoonist
Kliban's book were a taste; rush to the
bookstore and get the banquet

A Girl of Forty (Fine), by Herbert Gold:
Novelist Gold mines his favorite Northern
fornia settings and comes up with a
free-spirited woman and her very dis-
turbed t

Frog Raising for Pleasure and Profit and
Other Bizarre Books (St. Martin’s), by Rus-
sell Ash and Brian Lake: A delightfully
illustrated compendium of the flotsan
jetsam of the publishing industry. The
commentary is as funny as the title

Manhunt (Random House), Peter
Maas: A breathless account of Edwin P.
Wilson's career, from CIA operative to
Libyan arms merchant. The research
seems solid enough, but the writing style
tends to list toward melodrama—/acocca
for beginners.

Baseball Wit (Crown), edited by Bill
Adler: The sages quoted constitute no lit-
erary threat to Oscar Wilde, but any
quotebook that includes the wisdom of
Бай is ninety percent mental
The other half is physical”), Satchel
(“How old would you be if you didn't
know how old you was?”) and Joaquin
(“There is one word in America that says
it all, and that one word is “You never
know””) is worth a listen.

naged son

and

Ме hope youll have a sip of cur oldtime Tennessee whiskey sometime soon

LUNCHTIME IN THE HOLLOW usually
finds someone at the limestone cave spring
Jack Daniel picked a century ago.

When Mr Jack picked our spring he didn’t
realize he was getting a good lunch spot too.
He picked it because it runs at 56 degrees
yearround and it’s completely iron-free. (Iron,
you see, is the natural enemy of whiskey.)
This water and charcoal

mellowing account largely CZ

for Jack Daniel’s
smoothness. After a sip,
you'll know Mr. Jack did all
right when it came to

picking springs.

reta
prd
pe
[РЕЛЕ H) 37352
Г,

CHARCOAL MELLOWED FOR SMOOTHNESS

By BRUCE WILLIAMSON

A TEENAGER who has invented his very own
nuclear bomb transports it to New York to
enter a high school science competition.
By the time the boy (Christopher Collet),
his girl (Cynthia Nixon) and his bomb
reach Gotham, The Manhattan Project (Fox)
has made him the subject of a man hunt by
a swarm of CIA types who behave as
though they are licensed to kill. Themati:
cally close to War Games (about a
computer-whiz kid whose keyboard wiz-
ardry threatened to set off World War
Three), Project is a sunnier antinuke satire
with some unexpected sting in its tale, Co-
author and director Marshall Brickman
spells out the technical gobbledygook with
sly wit, whipping up a timely what-if com-
edy that’s both scary and significant. John
Lithgow, playing a nuclear physicist who’s
dating the hero's divorced mom (Jill Ei-
kenberry), performs his usual effortless
tour de force as the patsy in charge of
explosive secrets. You'll have to suspend
disbelief or go out to buy popcorn when
Brickman shows how a smartass kid, as
cool as any master saboteur, manages to
steal some precious plutonium from a
well-guarded Government installation.
After that, Manhattan Project is right on
the button up to a climactic countdown
shrewdly timed to detonate laughter as
well as aftershock. ¥¥¥
Б

Somewhere on the seedy side of Los
Angeles is a neighborhood called Echo Park
(Atlantic). Like its namesake, Robert
Dornhelm's disarming, loosc-jointed little
comedy is full of rickety houses and slap-
dash dreams. Thomas Hulce (of Amadeus
fame) impishly plays a would-be song-
writer who delivers pizza. He rents a room
from Susan Dey, delightful as a single
mother who delivers Strippergrams but
wants to be an actress. Her next-door
neighbor (Michael Bowen), an Austrian
"body sculptor" devoted to his biceps,
sees triumph in doing deodorant commer-
cials and believes his destiny is to meet
Arnold Schwarzenegger. The denizens of
Echo Park don't scem to get anywhere in
particular. Nor does the movie, yet it
makes for a pleasant visit. YY

In Jo Jo Dancer, Your Life Is Calling (Co-
lumbia), Richard Pryor offers a thinly dis-
guised self-portrait reminiscent of Bob
Fosse's All Thai Jazz. While he waffles
about calling his film an autobiography,
Pryor co-wrote, produced, directed and
stars in the story of Jo Jo, a black come-
dian who is raised in a brothel, hits the
showbiz heights but almost slips into eter-
nity after a fiery mishap with drugs. Near
death in a hospital, hc confronts his alter
ego, another Jo Jo who searches the past in
flashbacks. What hc finds is a lifctimc of.

Collet, Lithgow in laser-sharp Project.

A film the CIA may
hate and one the
White House will go for.

insecurity, broken marriages, hilarious
highs and cmotioi berally laced
with sex, booze and happy dust. The
movie is a sentimental mess in ma
both diffuse and self-indulgent. It is also as
funny, frank, foulmouthed and brutally
honest as the man himself. Pryor still
hasn't found a film to match his talent, but
this odyssey from rags to riches and back
to his roots has you pulling for him all the
way. YY

lows

ny ways,

A nation hungry for heroes and heroic
exploits is certain to devour Top Gun (Para-
mount), all about U.S. Navy pilots in
training for aerial combat maneuvers.
They haven't made a movie as crammed
with sky-high excitement since those dare-
plane epics starring Gable and
ney, decades ago. The star of Top Gun,
and no mistake, is Tom Cruise, plaving the
cocky, aggressive flying ace with a need
to prove himself, Director Tony Scott
(brother of Ridley, who directed Cruise’

ses
misbegotten Legend) lets his camera dwell
on the actors every twitch and twinkle,
and Cruise responds with a performance
likely to cinch his title as top hunk of 1986.
Kelly McGillis pl. the es beautiful
aerodynamics while Anthony
Edwards, Tom Skerritt and Val Kilmer,
all fine in uniform, contribute stiff compe-
tition and moral support. Top Gun has
the updated technological slickness of a
search-and-destroy video game, but it
lacks heart and seems generally beholden
to the Rambo school of cinema. Which

teacher,

means we're back to a Cold War world
threatened by Soviet Mig pilots (and bad
guys always wear black). Somehow, I'm
afraid that the White House is going to
love this onc. ¥¥¥%

Whimsical is decidedly the word for Mr.
Love (Warner), a British trifle starring
Barry Jackson. Portraying the low-key
lewdness of a quiet Everyman in a style
perfected ages ago by Alec Guinness. Jack-
son is a baldish public-park gardener who
discovers as he's pushing 50 that love
makes the world go round. Thereafter, his
mostly fruitless pursuit of women who turn
out to be fruitcakes finally proves fatal.
Although eccentric and unassuming to a
fault, Mr. Love pays oll with a pair of irre-
sistibly comic scenes. In onc, an avid spi-
der collector lures Jackson to her attic lair
and tries to seduce him with an arachnid
mating dance. In another, he joins an
actress-usherette on stage, playing Bogart
to her Ingrid Bergman after a power fail-
ure in the projection booth of a local bijou
showing Casablanca. That bit alone would
make my day at the movies, any day. YY

Truth may be stranger—and much
grimmer—than fiction, but veracity is no
guarantee of satisfaction for unwary
moviegoers. At Close Range (Orion) taps
into a lode of talent to tell the true, down-
beat tale of a redneck thief and criminal
psychopath (Christopher Walken) with
two sons (Sean and Christopher Penn),
who learn too late that it may be folly to
follow in Father's footsteps. Scan plays the
older son, who begins to sce the light only
afier he lands in jail and learns that his
teenaged honey (Mary Stuart Masterson)
has been beaten and raped, his sibling
murdered {Dad guilty on both counts),
with other offenses still to come. Close
Range ids up as a family blood bath,
splattering the kind of ignorant, unruly
people whose misdeeds usually make
headlines in trashy tabloids. Juan Ruiz
Anchia’s splendid cinematography out-
classes his subject by a country mile.
“There's no-fault acting throughout, with
Madonna (Mrs. Sean Penn) on the
sound track, if that helps vou. Didn't
help me. YY

An innocent native learning the wid
ways of the city is a classic setup for so
comedy, and Jamaican-born
Thomas fills the bill handsomely as Ben in
Block Joy (Oakwood). Fresh from Guyana,
Ben drilis through the Brixton slums of
South London and, with an ebullient,
street-wise hustler named Dave (Norman
Beaton) as his mentor, quickly picks up all
he needs to know about love, lust and
petty larceny. There's a wonderful
ient humor about all the neighborhood
blacks, male or female, contributing to

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Ben's education. In some quarters, their
casygoing amorality might be taken as an
implied racial slur, but Joy is based on a
play by West Indian author Jamal Ali and
adapted by him in collaboration with
director Anthony Simmons. It’s a refresh-
ingly feisty lile film that speaks gutter
truth untainted by self-pity. Brixton's
born survivors have got rhvthm, plus joie
de vivre, and they're not about to apolo-
gize for it. ЖҰ

Sporting a punkish hairdo and singing
pop in a Parisian discothèque, Isabelle
Huppert gives a sexual charge to Sincerely
Charlotte (New Line). Directed by her sis-
ter, Caroline Huppert, the movie presents
Isabelle in the title role as an unscrupu-
lous minx who, after the murder of her
most recent lover, hits the road—dragging
along a former paramour (Niels Arestrup)
with a will of limp linguine. Gone are the

pay for their crimes. With ty y
insouciance, the Huppert sisters! Charlotte
reaffirms the adage that bad little girls go
everywhere. YY
б

In Death of a Soldier (Scotti), an actor
apparently sealed in plastic portrays Gen-
eral Douglas MacArthur in various com-
manding poses, at his liveliest behaving
like a waxwork. But not even he can drain
away the fascination of a true story set in
wartime Melbou Australia, in 1942.
The Yanks had come, 60,000 strong, and
among them was Edward J. Leonski, a
hulkingly handsome schizophrenic GI
(Reb Brown is perfect in the part) who
strangled three women before he was
caught, court-martialed and, on Mac-
Arthur's orders, hanged. James Coburn is
earnestly effective as the Army’s reluctant
defense attorney, whose argument of not
guilty by reason of insanity is brushed
aside because the Americans need a
human sacrifice to preserve the peace with
their Aussie hosts. Postwar, Leonski's case
brought about major changes in the U.S.
Code of Military Justice. Soldier is a third-
string, down-underside variation on
Breaker Morant, a hushed-up, half-
forgotten slice of military history that's
hoth shameful and tragic. YY

x, motherhood, loneliness and
tters of concern to women are
weighed with tact and tender, loving care
in another French-language film, Femmes
de Personne (European Classics). Freely
translated, the tile means “nobody's
women,” these being women who just
happen to work in the same radiology
clinic. By day, they deal with problems of
life or death; by night, with problems of
personal identity. Marthe Keller is the sin-
gle mom who resorts to one-night stands;
Caroline Cellier is 40ish, married, preg-
nant and so bored that she recruits
seductive receptionist (Elisabeth Etienne)
to go to bed with her husband; Fanny Cot-

Huppert is Arestrup's not-so-sweet Charlotte.

Once again, it takes
the French to give
some zest to l'amour.

tençon is a seemingly flip swinging single
driven to try suicide. The most interesting
men on the scene are Philippe Leotard
Keller's gay house guest, and Jean-Louis
Trintignant, as a married man she encoun
ters at her son's school. Inconclusive but
thoroughly adult, Femmes is also def
tively French, though written and directed
by Britain’s Christopher Frank. One pro-
vocative footnote: Virtually every top
actress in the Cast at some point appears
topless in a natural and unself-conscious
manner that would seem revolutionary in
a so-called woman's picture from Holly-
wood. ЖҰ

The excesses and inadequacies of Abso-
lute Beginners (Orion), a British musical
that claims to celebrate “the teenage mira
cle” of the late Fifties, may add up to acute
distress for anyone over 20. As temporary
relief, David Bowie brings style and das!
g presence to a musicvideo sequence
built around That's Motivation, onc of two
numbers—including the title song—he
composed himself. Up-and-coming Eddie
O'Connell and Patsy Kensit (“the British
Madonna," according to publicity blurbs)
play the cute couple who whirl through a
costly replica of neon-lit London streets
where they encounter con men, promoters,
racist Teddy boys, music impresarios, psy-
chotics and hordes of rather maturc-
looking teens. Adapted from a Colin
MacInnes novel I intend to avoid and
directed by Julien Temple, Beginners is
ambitious, overorchestrated chaos for
those who think exceptionally young, or

not at all. Y

MOVIE SCORE CARD

capsule close-ups of current films
by bruce villiamson

Absolute Beginners (Scc review) Bowic
shines in a bungled British musical. ¥
At Close Range (Sce review) Father-and-
son felons fall out. a
Black Joy (See review) Restless natives
in London slums. WY
Death of a Soldier (Sec review) Aussie
man hunt for a murderous GI Ww
Desert Bloom A-bomb tests in Vegas tan-
gle family ties for JoBeth Williams, Jon
Voight and company. ww
Echo Pork (See review) L.A. pastiche of
aspiring people who need people. — YY
B Million Ways to Die Hard-cdged sus-
pense with Је Bridges as an A.A. cop,
Rosanna Arquette as an L.A. hooker
us. coke-dealing killers. Wy
Femmes de Personne (Scc review) Pari-
sian women bare all, or nearly all. ¥¥¥%
Ginger & Fred Tuning in on TV with
Mastroianni and Masina. yyy
A Great Wall The Americanization of
Red China, Tung in cheek. Wr
Hannah end Her Sisters Woody on a roll,
with Mia in the title role. yyy
Jo Jo Doncer, Your Life Is Calling (Sec
review) Pryor pulls a Fosse. К
The Manhattan Project (5 iew)
Teenager has A-bomb, will travel. ¥¥¥
Mr. Love (See review) A small, sweetly
eccentric bundle from Britain a
My American Cousin He's the kind Ca
dians love to hate.

My Beautiful Laundrette Gay couple mak-
ing out, in business as in love. УУЗ
9% Weeks High-style erotica. with Kim
Basinger and Mickey Rourke. ¥¥¥
On Valentine's Day Horton Foote's down-
home greeting to Texas. Wy,
The Quiet Earth Where is everybody
alter the big blast? wur
Rebel Gl blues in wartime Australia
with Matt Dillon A.W.O.L. a
A Room with a View Purc-gold romantic
comedy from E. M. Forster clas-
sic. NY
Salvador Tough, timely, topical drama
ofugly Americans attending a war. ¥¥¥
Short Circuit John Badham’s slcekly
clever kid stuff about ап E.T-type
robot that imitates Bugs Bunny, John
Wayne and, oh, yes, John Travolta. YY
Sincerely Charlotte (Sec review) Some
accomplished witchery by Huppert. YY
Sweet Liberty Alan Alda poking bland
fun at moviemakers on location. 1WA
3 Men and a Cradle Three French men
about town practice baby сагс. ¥¥¥
Top Gun (Sce review) A Cruise missile
named Tom is shot into orbi v.
Vagabond Agnés Varda's hypnotic post-
mortem of a deceased girl, memorably
played by Sandrine Bonnaire. ¥¥¥

YYYY Don't miss
¥¥¥ Good show

YY Worth a look
Y Forget it

Marlboro j

@ | Ma 100%

Marlboro Red or Longhorn 1003—
you geta lotto like. 1

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By Pregnant Women May Result in Fetal
mg nicotine Injury, Premature Birth, And Low Birth Weight.

Tews eX AR >

SPORTS

ed, behind on

back and

S ıs columnists g
their bills, down in
an old joke that
joke is about the membe
was always looking for a way to bail out on.
а column, to slide by with an easy one, on
those days when even his hair hurt, which
were often.

Frequently, the poct would side-step
sues he ought to have confronted in print
Instead, he would run a column of
letters—nearly all of which he would
invent, since he rarely received any fan
mail. or even hate mail. “Dear Imbecile:
How can you say Notre Dame lost to USC
when it was obvious the Irish only ran out
of time on the clock? Get with it—and
don't call me biased! Yours truly, Scan
O'Boyle.” That kind of thing.

And just as frequently, the poct would
resort to a column of notes, most of which
he would steal from other columnists in
other journals, I ier to read than to
write. “Don't invite Crew Slammer and
Hank Binge to the same batting cage.

If the Cleveland Browns move to Orlando,
they ll play half of their games in Jackson-
ville. Watch for the Cardinals to trade
Rick Yak to the Orioles for Tiny Favor.
You heard it here. . . 7 That kind of thing.

Finally one day, the poets hair hurt
worse than it ever had. He gave up com-
pletely and began his column with “What
did Red Smith mean by this?” Whereupon
he ran in its entirety the full 800 words of
an old Red Smith column.

All of this is a roundabout way of intro-
ducing a column that is only partly a bail-
out this month. The fact is, I was twice
asked the same question on a recent trip
that 1 have been asked countless times
over the past 30 or so years: Who was the
greatest sportswriter who ever lived or
typed? 1 answered the same way
always answered. and the same way that
most of the people for whom I hold respect
in this business have always answered,
which is to say with the same two words:
hn Lardner

Thus, I thought I would devote this
space to presenting some evidence on the
subject. Here are a few of my favorite pas-
sages from this eldest son of Ring the Fa-
mous, who wrote primarily lor Newsweek
and The New Yorker and who passed away
in 1960, at the absurd age of 48.

On the topic of the actual baseball that
is manufactured for the major leagues.
Lardner once wrote:

the

irculates

of our sect who

Ive

DAN JENKINS

THE SPORTSWRITER’S
HERO

“The improved bazool ball,
which pierces armor at 600 yards, has
come in for an unusual amount of discus-
sion this summer. . . . A while back, your
correspondent started working on a move-
ment for the prevention of cruelty to pitch-
crs. Pitchers today are a dying breed, like
the whooping crane and the 25-cent lamb
chop. If they become extinct, a very color-
ful and authentic part of the American
scene will vanish with them. It is sad to
think of a future in which our children will
never know the sight of a tall, wild curve-
baller poised at the edge of a pool at dusk,
to drink, as the expression gocs.”

Few boxing writers have ever been more
on target than this:

“When Ezzard Charles won the heavy-
weight championship by licking J. J. Wal-
cott, two years ago, Ezzard's manager.
Jake ‘Madman? Mintz, passed out in the
ш. Last July, when Walcot won the
title, it was Charles who fell, while Jake
remained on his feet throughout. That is
са of the perfect partnership—
one man conscious, to count the

On pro football:

“The thing called school spirit is not
bly hard to prolong over a period of vi
So I admire the gameness of Slinging Sam
Baugh, the oldest vi in professional
football, in calling a dressing-room mect-
ing of the Washington Redskins recently

ars,

uos

and urging them to go out and win one for
the fans, for themselves and — I think Sam
invoked this for whatever sentimental
weight it might have with the team—for
him. It is casier, of course, to say, ‘Fight
for the Redskins" than “Fight for your
$8500!"

On the sport of sailing:

“Take yacht racing, now. Why does it
fascinate the sporting public so much that
crowds will stand all night outside a news-
paper office in Terre Haute or Des Moines
iting to hear the result of a regatta for
ss Butterfly sloops off Throgs Neck,
Long Island? For that matter, who was
Throg?”

On thoroughbred racin;

“All horse races are fixed by a ring ofsix
jockeys who force the other riders to coop-
crate by lighting matches under their fin-
gernails and beating them over the heads
with short lengths of iron piping bought
through the black market. What makes me
think so? I had the information straight
from the lips of a man leaning against the

afield fence at the Belmont race track. I
knew he was reliable because of the high
quality of the wood in the toothpick he was.
chewing."

On correcting history:

“OF Doc Goebbels is dead, but his soul,
or a reasonable facsimile of same, goes
marching on. A mortal deputy for the doc-
tor rose to his feet not long ago in the per-
son of Mr. Max Machon, a German
prize-fight hanger-on . . . and announced
that Max Schmeling lost his last fight with
Joe Louis because of an attack of Welt
schmerz, or planetary blues, induced by the
fact that nobody understood him. Mr.
Machon offers this diagnosis to German
historians . . . asa substitute for the previ-
ously accepted theory that Schmeling was
licked by about 15 head and body punches
» violent that they shouldn't happen to an
orphaned Pomerania

"Those of you who now want to read
more Lardner must dash to your nearest
rare-book store and offer the owner thou-
sands of dollars to track down his three
collections, Strong Cigars and Lovely
Women, White Hopes and Other Tigers and
1t Beuts Working

Many of us in this busine
have existed in our present state of mind if
it hadn't been for John Lardner. If this is a
bad thing, you have only him to Ы
unless, as he would say, you want to blame
the Encyclopaedia Britannica, thc late
cing edition. El

5 would

пс

MEN

Ls оа portas
our fathers probably never dreamed
of: The nation's 13,847,000 professional
jobs split in favor of women—6,938,000
jobs for women, 6,909,000 for men.
Women netted 29,000 more professional
jobs, and there's little doubt that this is
just the start of something big.

The U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics
called it a “historic milestone.” Its figures
were based on studies of 50 “knowledge-
based occupations”—architects, engineers,
scientists, physicians, dentists, pharma-
cists, lawyers, mathematicians, writers,
artists, professional athletes, teachers,
nurses, social workers, et al

The gap between male and female pay is
narrowing—men in professional jobs get a
median salary of $581 a week, compared
with $419 a weck for women. The percent-
age of women in professions that were once
bastions of male predominance is growing:
Eighteen percent of lawyers are now
women; so are 17 percent of physicians.
And college enrollmenis clearly show that
the explosion of women into the work force
is going to continue to be a major story.

The feminist revolution, in other words,
isn't about who opens the door ata restau-
rant or who gives flowers to whom. It's a
revolution that promotes a basic restruc-
turing of our culture and our lives, and it
affects us in the profession and the wallet.

Given all of the above, there's another
fact you have to face: The odds are that
sooner or later, you'll be working for a
woman. Shell be your boss and she'll
write your salary reviews. Your job will be
to follow her lead, take orders, assist her.

How do you think you'll do?

“I never thought Га be working for a
woman," Stan says. “And I'm not always
surc I like it. My boss is a workaholic. It
wouldn't surprise me to find a sign on her
desk that says, THANK CODIT'S MONDAY.”
laughs. He is 38 years old, a wiry man in
sports coat and slacks, an executive at a
hospital-supply company. “She never stops.
She's networking—believe me, I'm start-
ing to hate that word—or going to grad
school in the evenings or selling real estate
ош of her home. 1 put in ten-hour days,
and on my last progress review, she said I
was a little lackadaisical. Shit, I've never
worked harder in my life!”

Rob shakes his head and smiles at
Stan's frustration. Гуе asked them to talk
about their female bosses, and they've
agreed to—but only if I change their
names. Rob is 27, a low-key man in a

By ASA BABER

BOSS
LADIES

three-piece suit who works in a public-
relations firm. “Every female executive 1
know works hard,” Rob says. “Look, it
simple: They are first-generation bosses
They're on trial. They know they're set-
ting a precedent. They're the first of their
kind, and it's a lot of pressure.”

“Wait a minute,” Stan says. “My boss
works hard for herself. She's never there
when we necd her to make a decision. We
say we've seen her picture on a milk car-
ton: She's missing. She pads her own nest
with six businesses and then comes into
the office and expects us to have every-
thing done for her. I don't buy this idea
of the hard-working, perfect female boss.”

“OK, OK,” Rob says, “I overstated the
case. Big surprise, There are good and bad
women bosses, just as there are good and
bad male bosses. But one thing's for sure:
Men are not adjusting well to this change, You
can see it. We're improvising. All of us.”

We talk for several hours about that
Stan calls the current crisis “working out
the rules while working.” His anger is
based on how slippery and undefined the
workplace is these days. “Male, female,”
he gestures. “I don’t care how you cut it,
there's always going to be sexual tension. Do
you flirt with your boss or don't you? Ifyou
do, you're a pig. If you don't, you're gay.”
he sexual tension is there,” Rob
agrees. “I confess it: Sometimes I'm inten-
tionally cute. I can't believe I'm admitting

this. Hey, I can't believe Im in а s
where I think I have to be cute.”

“My boss thinks Fm just a little bit
dumb,” Stan says. “She gets patronizing;
she winks at the other women sometimes
when I’m arguing a point in a meeting;
she's just waiting to be able to put the sex-
ist label on my forehead. Because once
that happens, you're dead, you know?
Thats the blackmail of the Eightics: H
they color you sexist, they color you gone.”

The discussion is intense, and it 15 clear
that both men have thought a lot about their
situation—yet both are floundering as
they try to adapt to the new reality. At the
end of the evening, we sum up a list of ad-
vice: Rob and Stan’s Rules of Order. It
comes from two men who have been there—
and who hope to get back in one piece

1. Do not sleep with your boss. In this
case, the kiss of passion is truly the kiss of
death. Don't date your boss. The potential
for disaster is sky-high

2. If its demanded, flirt. Yes, this is a
double signal. You can flirt but not touch,
and some Boss Ladies want to be flirted
with. “Professional
warmth" is the phrase Rob uses.

3. Be professionally prepared. Rob's first-
generation analogy is not wrong. Most
female bosses are under a microscope, and
they need and expect professional support.
They'll appreciate competence.

4. Don't come on too strong in business dis-
cussions. Today's Boss Lady is usually a
tough and rational thinker who wants to
hear facts and evidence, not macho postur-
ing. The style of your presentations to her
is as important as the substance.

5. Courtesy counts. You don't prove
you're in favor of equal rights by slamming
the door in her face or spitting past her
ankles. Be polite. Or die

6. Strategize with your fellow men. Few men
are doing this now, but they will. To get a
reading on how this Boss Lady treats every-
body, what signals she sends, what behan
she rewards and punishes, you have to com-
pare notes with your male colleagues.

7. Just remember: Be careful out there.
With more competition and less forgive-
ness between the sexes, the soft focus of
romance has been chiseled into the hard
edge of the leveraged buy-out. Women are
administrators and competitors, people of
power and substance who make decisions
that directly affect our lives. Gaution and
consideration are the order of the day.

“We'reall point men now.” Stan says.

Yes, indeed. Ej

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Tune in Taiktaik the satelite callin comedy talk show. Sunday evenings on public radio stations, Check local listings.

WOMEN

Ass was spinning records at a
fancy New York night club, which is
her job. She looked adorable in a low-cut
pale-blue-satin gown, her blonde hair
piled high on top of her head, her skin a
rosy amber.

“Hello, Andrea,” I sang, spinning by in
the arms of my partner. "Play some
George Jones. Jecz, you're looking tanned
and terrific; wherc have you been?"

‘You want George Jones, take a bus to
Nashville,” said Andrea, segueing Frank
Sinatra into Prince. “Гус been to Ber-
muda, and you know what? They have
men down there. Real men!”

At this news, I dismissed my partner,
who was eager to pick up boys, anyway.
“What do you mean, real men?”

“Tall, broad, handsome, well fixed and
homy.”

‘Stop telling Tany tales, It isn't nice to
tease your friends."

A religious fervor seemed to overta
Andrea. “Do you know what it feels like to
have a man say to you, 'I want you to take
your clothes off right now and fuck my
brains out’—and really mean it?”

“No,” I breathed. “What docs it feel
like?”

“It feels like winning the lottery. It feels
like going downstairs on Christmas morn-
ing and finding a puppy. Do you know
how long it's been since someone made a
pass at me? Maybe two years. Down in
Bermuda, I had simultan ous affairs with
two men. I’m thinking of moving there."

I wandered around in a semicoma, so
distracted that I bumped smack into Rita,
causing her to spill tequila down the front
of her vintage Dior.

"Now, darlin', this is ridiculous," she
said. “You know how much it's gonna cost
me to dry-clean this little numero?”

“Rita, Andrea's been having simultane-
ous affairs with two men, both of whor
wanted her to take her clothes off and fuc
their brains out.”

“Hon, Pve been telling you to stop tak-
ing drugs. Now look what's happened.
You're hallucinating.”

“I'm as sober as Sandra Day O'Connor.
It was in Bermuda. I swear.”

“Holy Jesus,” said Rita, smiting her
forehead. “Two men. The mind boggles.”

“What? What?” asked Cleo, wandering
up and observing our expressions.

“Andrea’s getting laid,” I said.

“Two men, in Bermuda,” Rita said.

“My God,” Cleo said. “Sisters, let us
sing hallelujah!”

By CYNTHIA HEIMEL

A HARD MAN
IS HARD TO FIND

The next day, I picked moodily at my
huevos rancheros. “105 not that I don't
have dates, Karen,” I said. “Attractive,
presentable if, possibly, a bit skittish
dates, who are entertaining and charmir
and invariably fade into a taxi at the end
of an evening. I thought maybe I was just
putting out weird vibes, you know, since
I've just spent a year breaking up with
someone and am therefore traumatized

“But everywhere I go, I hear the same
story from girls, the gist of which is
“Whom do pou have to know to get laid
around here?"

“Do I know?” asked Karen. “I know.
Its chronic, it’s epidemic, its almost
passé.
aborted seductions. . . .

“Don't,” I said.
enough already.”

“Maybe it's this,” said Karen (she is a
girl of dazzling intellect and a certain cf-
fusive sluttishness, full of beans). “Maybe
they think they have to write War and
Peace with their dicks.”

“War and Peace? Please elucidate.

“It's the Eighties, everybody's соп-
cerned with status, with possessions, with
heing on the top of the heap.”

“So you feel there is mass performance
anxiety running amuck among the male
populace?”

“It’s a thought. Plus, there's feminism.”

“Ah, feminism. Our fondest dream.”

“Pm despondent

The stories I could tell you of

“The ramifications of which are still
the shock waves still emanating.
now
The
idrome is at the root of

I think it irritates men that we're
required to be treated as equals.
predator-prey sy

“They prefer us to behave in the man-
ner of deer startled by the glare ofoncom-
ing headlights?”

“They prefer us to be intimidated, like
simps, like wimps. Strong women are
threatening to the fragile male psyche.
Their not putting out is simply a sophisti-
cated variant of holding their breath and
turning blue.”

^] don't think it's that," said Emily on
the phone later. “We live in terrifying
times. The pleasures we used to look for-
ward to have become life-threatening.
Take dating. Who would want to have sex
with someone now without examining his
medical records for the previous five
years?
ive years ago, І would have said that
men are immature. Now I'd say they're
terribly afraid of death—more than
women. Women are reborn every month,
don’t forget.”

“From now on, a girl must behave on
dates like a 19-year-old boy,” says Lynn.
"Don't take no for an answer. Seduce
them. Give them drugs, anything.”

І can't do that,” I said.

“Sure you can," she said. “If I can, you
can."

“1 don't want to do that," I said. “Pm
excited only if they're excited. If they re.
really hot to trot. Ifthey make it clear that
they want me. If they pursue me.”

You want to be the object of their de-
sires and the subject of your own life—a
difficult feat in 1986.
‘Or perhaps ГЇЇ just give up,” I said
"Grow broad in the beam, wear hats to
ncheon. Get a dog, do good works.”
“IPs no help at all to become morbid.”
So later that weck, I was having a drink
at my local, and a fellow was coming on to
mc in thc old-fashioned sort of way—play-
ing kncesics under the table, stroking my
arm, complimenting every aspect of my
appearance. This made me feel lively all
the way down to the soles of my fc

“Seven years ago,” the guy whispered
in my ear, “women told me | was imma-
ture for wanting them, Now they tell me
Um immature for not wanting them.
What's the deal with you broads?”

1 honestly didn't know where to
begin. t

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THE NAME IS NISSAN

AGAINST THE WIND

T: those days, we didn't have insur-
nce," said Mel Brooks, in character
as the 2000-Year-Old Man. He was
explaining what people did 20 centuries
ago when they were run down by a lion
“You just lay there till you got better.”

In these greedy times, it seems, all you
have to do is lic there until a personal-
injury lawyer spots you, gets the name of

the lion’s insurance company and litigates
for the kind of money that has to be moved
around on hand trucks

There

been a lot of talk about such
ately, because insurance companies
are crying ruin over the huge settlements
they've been forced to pay out in the name
of pain and suffering, Their answer, of
course, has been to start canceling every
body who represents any risk at all
which means that soon, the old rule of.
thumb for getting a loan will apply to get-
ting insurance, as well: It's available only
if you don't need
1 generally feel about as much sympa-
thy for insurance companies as 1 do for
gambling cas surance is a
straightout wager and the insurer is the
housc. It's betting that nothing particular-
ly disastrous is going to happen in your
life. If you believe in Murphy's Laws, that
seems like a pretty good bet—until you
realize that the house has a bunch of pro-
fe nal touts called actuaries, who work
the odds against your ante in such a
way as to guarantee that it can't lose in the
long run.
o its a little hard to believe in the
insurance “crisis.” It has the ring of the
-business crisis, and what it probably
means is that insurance companies are
going to have to gouge us a little more

to keep their stockholders in
nd of cigars that come in glass
cylinders.

Every once in a while, though, there's a
lawsuit that makes you wonder if the bal-
ance of greed hasn't slipped over from the
nies onto the side of the
lawyers and their clients.
not long ago that scemed
one of disability: ps

i
personal-injury
There was a su
to open up a new 2

chic whiplash. I heard about it before 1
read it in the papers, and the grapevine

version went like this: A psychic had had a
brain tumor removed and claimed that
after the operation, she suffered headaches
so severe that she could no longer n
contact with the spirits. She sued the doc
tor; won $1,000,000.

The wire-service accounts seemed to

By CRAIG VETTER

PSYCHIC
WHIPLASH

confirm the story. The Chicago Sun-Times
ran it this way: “PSYCHIC WINS SUIT."
“Judith Richardson Haimes, who claimed
that her psychic powers were damaged by
a brain scan at Temple University Hospi
tal in Philadelphia, was awarded $998,000
"Thursday when the jury found the hospital
negligent. Haimes said an allergic reaction
to a dye injected during a 1976 CAT scan
gave her recurring headaches that forced
her to abandon her practice."

True, the Sun-Times isn’t much of a
source. In fact, if it’s household stink
you're trying to control. you don't wrap
garbage in the Sun-Times—you wrap the
Sun-Times in garbage. But even The New
York Times ran the story, under the head-
line “WOMAN WINS I MILLION IN PSYCHIC POWER
sur,” and the lead paragraph pretty much
echoed the Sun-Times yersion. At the end
of the story, though, it was noted that the
judge had ruled that Haimes had failed to
prove any connection between the loss of
her alleged psychic ability and the brain
scan, and that the jury was to award her
damages for the allergic reaction only. A
small matter, | guess, except that
changed everything.

So | called Haimes's attorney, Joel
Lieberman, and he explained things to me.
Sort of. The way lawyers do.

The doctor put Haimes on the table,
Lieberman said, and injected her with the
brain-scan dye, despite the fact that they

had records showing that she'd had twa
on of simi
dyes. The immediate result was that she
went into violent shock: Her arms jerked
wildly, she lost bladder control, vomited
nd developed welts an inch high all over
body. Her blood pressure rose so high
t she was given a drug to reduce it, and
when it dropped back toward normal. the
doctor said, “1 just saved your life.” which
was interpreted in court to mean that she
had nearly died from the procedure. “She
has terrible headaches to this day,"
Lieberman told me, “which sometimes
put her in bed for three or four wecks. And
she describes them in three ways: like
being hit in the back of the head with a
two-by-four, like a bomb going off in her
head or like an aluminum baseball bat
ting a baseball."

When Lieberman was through expla
ig the whole thing to me, the award
seemed fair, The doctor had clearly made
an inexcusable error and Haimes had suf-
fered and, ten years later, was still suffer-
y considerable physical pain as a result.
But when I talked with someone who had
been close to the trial, he told me that the
award was just for what she had suffered
on the table. It had not been proved, he
said, that h inuing headaches and
various other complaints were related to
the CAT scan; so the damages were solely
for the trauma she had suffered at the time
of the bra can

“That's right,” said Lieberman, as if he
hadn't misled me the first time we talked
This time, he read me the judge's instruc-
tions to the jury. “You shall not consider
the permanency of the headaches. . . .”
Well, that took whatever had seemed fair
back out of the deal for me: $1,000,000 for
a momentary spasm, vomiting, hives and a
loss of blood pressure that could have
illed her, but didn't, seemed more than
fair to me, somehow.

Lieber aid that he thought it was
fair and, considering what his fee was
likely to be, E could understand that.
When I asked him what he thought about
the insurance “crisis,” he let out a cynical
little pull of air and told me to look in the
previous day's paper at the earnings report
of one of the industry giants. 1 did. and
there м Aetna Lif nd Casualty,
first-quarter net earnings up 456 percent.
Which made me think—ah, justice—
lawyers and insurance agents deserve
‘one another. EJ

lar

lergic reactions to the inje

со!

PLAYBOY

Alive with pleasure!
wport
- Lights

Kings: B mg. "tar", 0.7 mg. nicotine;

IR | Box: 8 mg. “tar”, 0.7 mg. nicotine FTC Report February 1985.
SE
| SURGEON GENERAL'S WARNING: Smoking

Causes Lung Cancer, Heart Disease,
Emphysema, And May Complicate Pregnancy.

DEAR PLAYMATES

n for the month:

The ques

How do you feel about being the
object of men's fantasies?

М, brothers and their friends had ¢
fold posters all over the garage when they
were rebuilding their Camaros. I probably
posed for тм.лувоу to have someone fanta-
size over me,
too. When Pm
out on the road,
doing promo-
tions and sign-
ing autograph
1 can't look up
and think, This
guy in front
of me has fan-
tasized wild
and wonderful
things while
looking at my
pictures. I know it, but I
edge it. or Га be too sell-conscious. 1 do.
think it’s an ego boost. You know you're
attractive to more than just that one some-
one in your life. One reason I became a
Playmate was to be sexually appreciated.

War

TRACY VACGARO
OCTOBER 1983

t acknowl-

М, mom worked at плох, so when
she used to bring the magazine home, I
had а look. I thought the Playmates had
beautiful bodies. I feel pretty good about
being a fantasy object, if L am. I mean, I
go ощ and meet men and they
that kind of
thing, though
en таг.
appreciatively.
When 1 go on
promotions. à
strange thing
happens. Wom-
en come up to
me to get auto-
graphs for their
boyfriends
nd sons.
y things
such as, "He's going to love this" or "He's
going to die.” So 1 guess men must be out
there having fantasies. But when men
approach me, they're calm and cool. I
can't tell what's going on in their minds.

ever say

Quince
VENICE KONG
PTEMBER 1985

Wu have to admit that my first thought
was not about the ultimate male fantasy. 1
was thinking more about myself and my
carcer. But 1 have given it a lor of.
thought. I think most women hope to be a
fantasy for a man, whether their beauty is
internal or ex-
ternal. To be
recognized as a
fantasy is part
of being a total
woman. I never
saw a MLWBOY
until I was 30)
I came from
a very small
town. A girl-
friend of mine
wanted to be a
make-up artist,
so she made me up and her husband, who
is a photographer, took my picture. She
submitted the pictures for her own job
advancement. I did it as a career thing
Now, when I do autograph sessions, I try
to impress upon the men who come to
them that there is a whole lot more to me
than just the pictures. That makes for a
better fantasy, I thin!

ГАА

KATHY SHOWER
MAY 1985

Vr inci
be someone men want and can't have.
"That sounds a little mean and cgotisti
cal, 1 know, even though being the object
of fantasies docsn't make any real diller-
ence in my personal life. 1 started look-
ing at mivmov

when I was a
teenager. Î re
member secing
Teri Welles
and thinking
that she was in:
credibly beau-
шш. I never
dreamed that |
would ever, ever
be а Playmate.
Wh
young, I

wanted to be beautiful

I was

as I got older. I

wanted to be an object of desire. Secing a
lot of movies can do that to you. Seriously,
those feelings give me confidence. I'm glad
1 posed. Having all that attention is really

nice.

LIZ STEWART
JULY 1984

know but people 1 don't know. all over
the world. Its a litle scary, though;
I mean, you
can't please
everyone. | saw
my first PLAYBOY
when ] was
about 12. |
thought the
women were
beautiful. 1
wished that one
day I would be
that pretty and
could appear in
a magazine,
too. It was a very intense feeling to have at
such an early age. Um excited by the idea
that I could be an object of fantasy to
men.

SHERRY ARNETI
JANUARY 1986

Wien 1 posed for my pictures, I didn’t
think about that. I was thinking more of
artistic expression. | think the men who
read PLAYBOY have different tastes. Some
Playmates don’t do a thing for them; oth-
ers are exactly
what they like.
When I was
14, I used to
sneak a peek at
PLAYBOY in my
fathei closet.
There was a
mystique about
the Playmates.
When T posed,
I knew Га be
desirable, and
that made me
feel pretty good. I meet men when I'm on
promotions, 1 usually shake hands with
them to make them feel more comfortable
and also to say that I'm more than a fan-
tasy. There is more to me than that.

BUTLER
IST 1983

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

FINALLY.
APIONEER
CAR STEREO
WITHAS MANY
FEATURES
ASOURS.

If you want a Pioneer with as many
features as a Sparkomatic* you'll have to
build it yourself. But it won't be easy.

First, you'll have to take Pioneer's
top car stereo! and add 10 watts of power
to give you a fuller, richer sound. Then
add Dolby C, a Dynamic Noise Reduction
System and a 3-Band Bass Equalizer.

Next, install features like Tape Scan,
Blank Skip and Repeat. These bits of tech-
nological magic do things by themselves
that you used to do manually. So you can
keep your eyes and your mind on the road.

r you make all of these changes,
you'll end up with a Pioneer with all of
Sparkomatics features. But why build a
Sparkomatic when, for a lot less money,
you can buy one?

The most music you can fit in a car?"

THE PLAYBOY ADVISOR

PPicase tell me if the following isa rarity
or il you've come across this type of obses-
sion before. My girlfriend, who's 22, and 1,
24, like to watch sex films a lot when we're
warming up to make love. Lately, we have
both expressed an interest in viewing films
of cheerleaders doing kicks and bending
over to show off their asses. We admitted
this to each other while watching a recent
basketball game in which the cameraman
was shooting a tight close-up up a cheer-
leader's skirt as she was doing a kick. The
sight tumed me on, so I jokingly said,
“Ooh, what a pretty sight!" To my sur-
prise, my girlfriend said, “I agree!” Th
led to a heavy bout of lovemaking, during
which she put on her high school cheer-
leader's outfit and told me about the affair
she had had with one of her fellow cheer-
leaders in the llth grade. More surpris-
ing, it had been with one of our closest
friends, an absolutely beautiful brow
haired, brown-cyed female, definitely the
very epitome of femininity—aside from
my girlfriend, of course! ‘The girl is still
single, and we are thinking of asking her
about having a threesome. (My girlfriend
has also confessed that while they made
out, they both wore their cheerleader’s
skirts and panties, pulling the crotch to the
side to have access to each other.) Any-
way, the reason Lam writing is to sec if you
can locate for us a distributor of videos

that feature pretty women dressed as

cheerleaders, doing what cheerleaders nor-
mally do: kicking and bending over, show-
ing off their pretty butts. The photos
should be taken close to the women’s
crotches, too. We are also interested in
magazines of this type. I have written to
every video and magazine outlet I can find
and have found nothing of this type—
J. C., Rutherfordton, North Carolina.

Sometimes, we think that America ts turn-
ing sex into a spectator sport. Whatever hap-
pened to do-it-yourself ingenuity? Buy а
Polaroid or, even better, rent a video camera
and recorder. Invite your girlfriend's friend
ver for a photo session. Have them dress up
in their old duds and see what happens.

L ema papata azo mle
cassette deck that features automatic tape
select. Apparently, the type of tape is iden-
tified by “sensing holes” in the cassette
housing, and the optimum bias and equal-
ization for the inserted tape are automat
cally selected. The opera
warn against using a tape without sensing
holes. My question is, Where are these
holes located? I want to be sure that the
product I buy has them. М. S., Buffalo,
Wyoming,

Sensing holes are located on the top edge of
a cassette, opposite the opening for the tape.
They are near, but not to be confused with,
the punch-out tabs that keep you from acci-

dentally recording over previous material.
On a low-bias or normal tape, there will be no
sensing hole at all on the tape edge of the cas-
sette. On a high-bias or chrome tape, there is
a small square hole next to each punch-out
tab. On a metal tape, there are two small
square holes near the center of the top edge,
approximately one inch apart. All tapes made
by major manufacturers have had sensing
holes for more than a year. Your machine also
will have an indicator that displays NORMAL
(or Low), CHROME (or HIGH) or METAL, Lo al-
low you toverify that the tape dechis setup for the
appropriate tape inserted into the machine.

Thin about ready 10 go crazy. I have an
insatiable thirst for sex. If I could, I would
have it three times a day, every day. Right
now, I live with a guy who I used to think
loved sex even more than 1. We used to
make love at least once a day. Now I'm
lucky if we make love once a week. He
masturbates at least every other day. 1 can
never figure out why he never asks me first
or why he never waits for me. I go to
school full time and work part time. He
goes to school part time and works full
time in the evenings. He says he is too
tired when I want to make love, so I wait.
I'm starting to wonder if he likes mastur-
bating more than baving sex. I don't know
what to do. I’m tired of waiting and plead-
ing.— Miss B. P., Los Angeles, California.

Desire is a fragile thing: Too much pres-
sure from work and study can put a serious
damper on the best of sex lives. Making love
becomes a production that requires loo much
time and is complicated by performance
demands of its own. In that situation, solo sex
is a catch-as-catch-can alternative. It gets the
job done. There is nothing wrong with mas-
turbation. Your problem is mutual lovemak-

ing, or the lack of same. The only way to
break this cycle is to have a talk with him. Try
to set aside some time that is free from distrac-
tion. Check into a motel or take a long week-
end. If you can break the rouline, you can
turn your sex life around.

MA recent trip to Florida stimulated some
questions about insurance sold by car-
rental companies. I had a disagreement
with a rental agent over coverage 1 didn't
believe I needed. I had checked with my
insurance agent prior to lcaving, and he
had told me that all coverages from my
present policy carried over to the rental
car. [s the extra coverage necessary, or are
the rental companies increasing their prof-
its through insurance sales?—J. R., Green
Bay, Wisconsin.

Your insurance agent is basically correct.
Most rental-car insurance is an unnecessary
expense cleverly foisted upon an accident-
conscious public by the car-rental companies.
If you're insured with a reputable firm and
you trust your agent, listen to him, not to the
car-rental companies.

IM, girlfriend and 1 have been going
together for more than three years. I am
due to graduate from college in August
and, especially during the past six months,
she has been looking more and more for a
serious commitment from me. 1 am just
not interested at this time in this sort of
thing, and when I try indirectly to say so,
she takes offense and becomes very bitchy
and cold. I’ve been considering breaking
up with her, as I do not need her hot-cold
routine, but I do care for her and do not
want to hurt her. Any suggestions?—J. T.,
Schenectady, New York.

lt seems to us that three years of dating is
enough time for you to determine whether or
not you want to make a more serious commit-
ment to this woman. Since your letter indi-
cates that you're not really interested, youre
probably not doing her, or yourself, any
favors by prolonging the relationship. Your
only alternative is to ask her to wait until
you're ready. Graduation is an artificial
deadline, a proverbial gun to the head. Don't
let that pressure make you do something you
may regret later.

V just got a speeding ticket that I didn't
deserve. Is there amy point in fighting
i? —N. S., New Orleans, Louisiana.
Absolutely! Take it to court. First, your
chances are fair to middlin' that the arresting
officer won't show up, which usually means
instant dismissal of the charge—no fine, no
points, no raised insurance premiums. Sec-
ond, if you present a reasonable case showing
that you were in the right, your chances of
beating the ticket are excellent. Third, you
may get it reduced to a lesser offense. (We once
went to court with a receipt for a recent

PLAYBOY

speedometer repair: result, a minor equip-
ment violation, small fine, no points.) When
you're stopped, don't panic or get mad. Be
polite and respectful. Don't do or say any-
thing that will fix you in the officers mind.
Before going to court, prepare your case.
Make diagrams, gather evidence, research
the local law. Delay your court date, if possi-
ble (the more time that goes by, the more likely
that the accuser will be elsewhere). When
your day finally comes, groom and dress
neatly and show up early. Wait politely while
the officer tells his (or her) side of the story;
don't get upset or interrupt. When asked, tell
your side. Don’t come on like Clarence Dar-
row, but feel free to cross-examine: How did
he clock you? Was his equipment recently cali-
brated and was he properly trained to operate
й? Could he have mistaken your car for
another? Don't be afraid to fight, since losing
is the worst that can happen. Then you pay
about what you would have anyway and
you're out a little lime. Unless your offense is
blatant and indefensible, unless you're com-
pletely inept or in serious trouble, you don't
need a lawyer.

Ham a married woman in my сапу 30s
who enjoys a great sexual relationship
with a man in his carly 40s. We live in a
very small town in the South and have to
be careful. We have tried sex in many ways
and places. We made love once in the back
ofan old hearse, in the whirlpool outside a
big local hotel, in his back yard, with his

wife watching TV inside, at the local car
wash, in the shopping center, We have
tried all kinds of fruits and vegetables in
my pussy—even a big pickle that got
stuck. One of the best screws we had was
after dr
pouring the wine into my pussy. The cold

nking wine coolers in bed and then

sensation from the wine and his hot, thick
dick was the best come yet. Please advise
anything uy or make
suggestions to make our sex better! —Mrs.
M. C. (address withheld),

If this is what you call being careful, you
are in a league of your own. Take notes and
you'll have the material for a rural “9%
Weeks.” You might check out “The Joy of Sex"
and “More Joy,” by Alex Comfort. You might
rent some X-rated videos for more ideas.
Have you tried the missionary position? With
the lights out?

ent we can

Recently, I met the woman of my
dreams, and now I’ve promised her a
vacation fit for a queen. The catch is that I
need a place where she'll [cel like a million
dollars but the bill will be a hell of a lot
less. Got any ideas’—D. T., New York,
New York.

A damsel in distress? A prince of a guy
with the budget of a pauper? “The Playboy
Advisor” to the rescue. Not only have we gota
castle for you—lots of them, in fact —but you
won't have ta pawn the family jewels to pay
for a visit. These castles are located in Spain,
and they're part of a series of 84 government

ned hotels called paradores. About half of
the paradores are situated in restored castles,
monasteries or baronial homes, usually away
from the major cities and often in dramatic
settings. And we mean dramatic: The para-
dor Marques de Villena, for example, is a
stone fortress at least 1200 years old that's
perched on a hilltop overlooking a river.
You'll find it in the town of Alarcon, about
midway between Madrid and Valencia. There
are 11 guest rooms, any of them perfect for
some quiet knights or even a bit of swordplay.
Meals are served in a medieval banquet hall.
The cost of this regal cosseling? A mere $75
per night, and dinner for two is about half
that. Those rates are typical for all the para-
dores, and you can make reservations (or
obtain illustrated brochures) through Market
ing Ahead, 433 Fifih Avenue, New York,
New York 10016; 212-686-9213.

This story isn't like most stories dealing
with sexual problems, unusual sexual
appetites or chance meetings between the
sexes. It’s about an erotic, incredibly
horny woman who calls me once a week
from 3000 miles away in order to satisfy
her sex drive. The mystifying thing about
this relationship is that I don't know who
she is.
years ago, when she spotted me going
home from my bank teller's job. As she
called me that first time and told me all
the things she wanted us to do to cach

It all started back East about six

A chance to get away. Americans look forward to those moments.

Moments to unwin

Moments to enjoy the things you appreciate in life.

other, 1 became intrigued that she knew
all about me. I did not hear from her after
that

So here I was living in Los Angeles,
almost two years later. The phone rang
and this familiar voice said, “Recognize
" I almost died. She called regu-
larly alter that, describing in detail the

this voice?

many sexual habits she enjoys—taking on
two guys at once, doing it with another
woman, taking my cock down her throat. I
must say that I look forward to her phone
calls. We often talk of meeting one day
She loves to get me going and moans and
groans while I'm describing my tongue in
her pussy and her mouth on my dick. Ta
be honest, I hope this never ends. This
fantasy keeps me going on the slow days
I know other guys pay to hear these words.
L feel lucky calling me-

and picking up the tab. Have you ever
heard of such a thing?—C. Е. P., Glendale,
California.

Maybe one of the computers at Ma Bell got
horny. On the other hand, maybe you should
reach out and touch someone. With a track
record like this, the two of you could really set
some bells ringing—in person

Through the thumbed
through the pages of pLayvnoy and have
often akes a woman
dress the way she does, To be specific, the

to have her

years, Гус

wondered what

number of women who wear nylon stock-
ing:

and/or garter belts seems to be dimin-

ishing. For me, this is very disappointing.
Since I happen to be a loyal and sincere
fan of the seamed stocking, I asked my
girlfriend if she would wear stockings
occasionally when we made love, to keep
me satisfied. She looked at me as if I
had just graduated from the old school,
where silence is golden. Are nylon stock-
ings a thing of the past? Am I old-fash-
ioned?—D. S., San Francisco, California.

Take your girlfriend shopping. When she
sees the effect that fulfilling your fantasy has,
she'll come around.

On a recent hunting trip, the weather
turned terrible and most of our time was
spent in the cabin reading everything in
sight to help fight the boredom. Onc of the
other hunters had brought along another
men's magazine. Ї was so bored, Î read it.
RS apreció eso U CAREEN ап
an article in that magazine, as follows:

A male can considerably lengthen
and thicken his penis by applying an
ointment to its shaft (for lubrication)
and rather vigorously “milking” it in
its semiflaccid state, Such “milkings”
should not be performed when ће
penis is fully erect—vascular damage
could result. Large numbers of males
sed their penis length an
ore in six months by rigor-
“milking” their erect
penis several hundred
each day (beginning with around 50
“milkings” and gradually increasing

have inc
inch or
ously

semi
repetitions

the number to around 200). Mastur-
bation or manipulation of a fully erect
penis will not cause any increase in
size otherwise, the vast majority of
the world's males would be hung like

horses

I can’t help wondering if this isn't more
penis-length hype. 1 am relatively happy

with the size of my penis, which is on the
upper side of the scale for average; but
if I could easily add an inch or so, why
not?—H. D., Anthony, Kansas.

Right. If you can sit there and milk your
penis—scveral hundred times— without get
ling an erection and coming, you are a better
man than we are. While this exercise may
have aerobic benefits—and we can sec the
potential video tape and book—it is unlikely
10 increase the size of your penis. It comes
down to an efficient use of your time. Do you
want to add an inch to your tool, or do you
want to hold down a job?

АШ reasonable queslions—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

And because Seagram's 7 has always been part of that enjoyment,
you've made it America's most popular whiskey for nearly 40 years.

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Inside military intelligence and
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Now there are radar detec-
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Inside these incredibly
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And what doesn't.
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Because each
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false alarms.
They also contain features
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Each comes with accesso-
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We took the
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For more information on
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RoacEAlert.

by Sparkomatice

THE PLAYBOY FORUM

a continuing dialog on contemporary issues between playboy and its readers

Johnny Carson joked about it in his
monolog and the audience laughed. David
Letterman took an informal poll of the
late-night crowd: “I don't get angry about
too many things, but I am really steamed.
Talk about hypocrisy, folks. Seven-
Eleven, this chain of convenience stores
across, gee, I guess all across North Amer-
ica, have now decided that they are not
going to sell rLavnoy any longer [crowd boos
loudly|—yeah, thats just about how
steamed J am, by the way—because they
consider the material to be obscene. But
yet, they're continuing to sell those

Slurpees.” [Audience laughs]

It was not a laughing matter. In the
next few weeks, Rite Aid Drugs and
their

Thrifty Drugs took PLavsoy off

shelves. Other chain stores held firm
it was only a matter of time before the
lante groups of the Reverends Donald
Wildmon and Jerry Falwell would select
new targets—and enlist new allies. Vice-
President George Bush, ever willing to
assume obscene postures in search of
votes, openly courted the New Right. He
urged Falwell, the leader of the Liberty
Federation, not to allow critics who have
denounced the ers’ movements as
“moral McCarthyism” to drive them out
of the political process. “America is in cry-
ing need of the moral vision you have
brought to our political life,” the Vice-
President said. “What great goal
have!" Falwell's goals were pre
He immediately wrote a letter to his fol-

The folks at 7-Eleven, at the same time
they were deciding to drop PLAYBOY,
faced another constitutional crisis. A
clerk at their store in Nacogdoches,
"Texas, saw an ad in Texas Monthly

for Calvin Klein's Obses-

sion that showed a man

passionately embracing a
bare-breasted woman. A

First Amendment scholar,

the clerk decided that the
magazine was pornographic.

He stashed it behind the
counter. Not to be outdone by

their East Texas neighbor, a
group in Temple, Texas, led

by the redoubtable Wanda Van-
derbilt, launched a boycott of Cal-

vin Klein products. The Obsession
obsession then spread to three major
supermarket chains in the Houston
arca, where local pressure groups
demanded the removal of several high-

lowers asking for a $50 contribution to cel-
ebrate a victory over pornography.
Fortunately, not everyone in America
agrees with those goals. Last month, Hugh
M. Hefner commented on the blacklist—a
listing of companies that Wildmon, head
of the National Federation for Decency,

—Ó

North Haskell Avenue.

had, in his own demented fashion,
determined to be pornographers. Alan
Sears, Wildmon's man on Attorney
General Edwin Meese's Commission on
Pornography, had sent a threatening letter
to those companies. Some reacted as we
did, with outrage and alarm. Franklyn
Rodgers, president of Warner. Publisher
Services, said (in Publishers Weekly), “We
protested on all grounds: that there was no.
due process, that there was not ample

n. It is simply wrong, and not the
way things are supposed to happen in this
country.”

David Beale, spokesman for the Man-
hattan legal firm representing Kable News
Company, was adamant: “It is apparent
that the commission has become a forum

for special-interest groups wishing to
impose their standards and ideas of
morality upon others and, more impor-
tant, who seek to prevent the dissemi-
nation of publications whose contents they
disagree with."

Falwell and Wildmon are terrorists.
They went after 7-Eleven the way the
Shi'ites went after TWA— because it was
convenient—and, like the terrorists, they
usc the rhetoric ofa higher cause to justify
acting outside the law

Interestingly, their man on the Meese
commission has decided that a lower
profile might be in order. When PLAYBOY
protested the Scars letter and some of its
recipients threatened legal action, the
commission decided to deny the implied
threat the letter contained, voting not to
include the blacklist in its final report. It
was a nice way to handle the smoking gun.
“Gee, folks, I didn't know it was loaded.
It’s not loaded now. See, no harm done.”
But harm had been done. It is now more
difficult to find copies of PLAYBOY in
convenience stores than it was before the
7-Eleven decision was announced. Our
readers wrote with sympathy and outrage.
Some of their letters are published here.

We believe that Southland Corporation
was a victim, not a villain. The only
messages its executives heard, for three
years, were crackpot protests from the
New Right. A lot of letters have changed
hands in the past few months. Maybe
Southland would benefit from a few less
threatening voices. (continued overleaf)

profile women’s magazines. Vogue,
Glamour and Cosmopolitan were ban-
ished to the managers’ offices for carry-
ing the Obsession ad. Even that bastion
of proper feminism, Ms. magazinc,
came under attack. Women Against
Pornography protested the appearance
of an ad featur-
ing three nude
women, claiming
that Ms. was per-
petuating Klein's
porno-

“long
graphic fantasy,"
Isn't it wonder-
ful, living in a

country where
important deci-
sions are made by
bag boys and
misguided God
squads?

— PHIL COOPER.

F E

RESEARCH MISUSED

One of the most significant
letters we received came from
Edward Donnerstein, a pioneer
in research on pornography and
violence, whose studies have
been widely quoted and mis-
quoted. Many people, including
executives al Southland Corpo-
ration, are concerned about a
possible connection between
erotica and aggression. Don-
nerstein says there is no evi-
dence to support that.

What is interesting in all of
this debate [about pornogra-
phy and violence] is that
many people seem to have
forgotten the earlier research
in this area. Both I and peo-
ple such as Robert Baron at
Purdue University had shown
that when individuals are
exposed to mildly erotic pic-
tures (such as those from

wBov—in fact, we used

PLAYBOY pictures), they show
aggressive

reductions in
behavior, even if they are
already angered. It is gener-
ally assumed that this type of
material is incompatible with
anger and, thus, leads to
reductions in aggression.
Likewise, when we do find
effects of aggressive forms of
pornography, the rescarch is
quite clear in showing that it
is the aggressive images, or
just the message about
aggression, that contribute to
the results. The sexual as-
pects of the material have lit-
tle importance. It seems that
many groups do not really
want to hear this! It would
be nice if people really read the
rescarch rather than picked out parts
that seem to validate their own opin-
ions. 1 am well aware of how my
rescarch has been misused and misrep-
resented over the years. We keep trying
to set the record straight, but it seems
hard.

Ed Donnerstein, Ph.D.

Center for Communication

Research
University of Wisconsin
Madison, Wisconsin

OLD-FASHIONED PRINCIPLE
1 am renewing my subscrip
pLavoy, even though I

SLEAZETOWN

At a recent news conference, Jerry Falwell sug-
gested that praysoy be banished to Sleazctown. Porn
Row, by Jack Me
the sex-lor-sale district of a major city, quotes a
porn dealer's potential reaction:

“On the wall closest to where I sat . .
various types of kinky magazines. The sadomas-
ochisin books featured whips, unlike the bondage-
and-discipline magazines, which did not usually
feature whipping, span! 3

“What about ъглувоу and all that? I EET

“We sell only pornography here, not news. If
somebody wants that shit, tell them to go toa news-
stand or maybe to the Christian Science Reading
Room or somewhere. Nostoredown heresells that. . . .
People down here want to buy pictures of sex, not
something to read in the Library of Congress.

Weatherford, an ir

ig or strangli

intended to let it run out.

Like many others, | am an eclectic
reader. There are few periodicals that I
read from cover to cover. Some items
appeal to me more than others; some I
disagree with. What I reject, other
readers may find especially appealing.
"That is as it should be.

I am jealous of my freedom of choice
and get angry when anyone presumes
to constrict that freedom. The boycott
of the Southland convenience stores
against pLaynoy and Penthouse offends
me.

You will get neither rich by my

le look ar

. were the

renewal nor bankrupt if I
don't renew, but I have long
admired your stances in
defense of unpopular issues
and causes (some of which I
opposed), so you should
understand why I am renew-
ing as a matter of principle.

Speaking of principle, a
survey conducted by one of
the weekly news magazines
revealed that the majority of
convenience-store patrons did
not object to those stores' car-
rying those periodicals, even
though they did not necessar-
ily buy them.

George Levy, Psychologist

Canon City, Colorado

LETTER TO SOUTHLAND

Due to your company's
capitulation to Jerry Falwell
and his “divine” cen-
sors, neither I nor my wife
will again patronize your
7-Eleven stores. The issue is
not whether the magazines
rLAvBOY or Penthouse should
be sold or offered for sale but
whether your company has
any moral convictions what-
soever. It was OK to sell the
magazines before, but now
it’s not? You are towers of
Jell-O before the onslaught
of the ridiculous “apostles of
righteousness.”

We know that alcohol
causes, directly or indirectly,
deaths, Remove it from your
shelves.

Nicotine is addictive and a
killer. Remove it in every
form.

Caffeine contributes to heart
disease. Get rid of it.

Processed foods and meats have
known carcinogens as ingredients. Are
you trying to kill your customers?

Twinkies cause people to kill other
people. You may be an accomplice in
the next case.

The hours you are open often cater
to people who have no good reason to
be out. If you were to close at a decent
time, those bums might go home.

Video games are instruments of the
Devil. Or Communists. And I notice
that most of your stores have one or
more of them—corruption of youth.

Your prefab foods and microwave
ovens are contributing to the breakup

of the American family and the hallowed
“dinner hour.”

In all, Jerry Falwell has just begun, and
your lack of spine deserves everything he
throws at you.

Steve and Vicki Dalen
Pismo Beach, California

FALWELL AND FREEDOM

I am a supporter of Jerry Falwell and
his Liberty Federation (nee Moral Major-
ity) movement up to a point. But not this
time around. A 7-Eleven boycott is noth-
ing more than an attack on the basic
American freedoms.

If the Reverend Falwell must boycott a
food store until the magazines are re-
moved, then Í say tumabout is fair play.
All readers of PLawBoY, Penthouse and
Forum magazines, along with all persons
appalled by the result of removing a choice
or a freedom from our lives, should join
forces now and boycott 7-Eleven until the
magazincs are returned to the shelves.

In allowing this to happen, all Ameri-
cans lose one more small freedom—the
freedom to say, “No, thanks, I don't read
this material." I don't think that one reli-
gious leader should have so much power.

Come on, ladies and gentlemen, let the
7-Eleven folks hear from the Americans for
Freedom Majority in this country, and do
this by purchasing your milk and bread
elsewhere until there is a change. Say,
“Sorry, 7-Eleven” and “Hello, supermar-
kets" until the freedom of choice returns.

(Name withheld by request)
Honolulu, Hawaii

Thought you might enjoy this excerpt
from Ray Recchi's column in the Fort Lau-
derdale Sun-Sentinel.

I can't help but admire the style
with which various religious influ-
ences stifle free specch while wrap-
ping themselves in the American flag
and ranting about freedom.

Jerry Falwell, for instance, led
thousands of protesters in Dallas last
fall in a rally against Southland Cor-
poration because its 7-Eleven stores
sold rLaysov, Penthouse and Forum
mag; . Fundamentalist preachers
everywhere urged a boycott of the
stores. Then, last week, 7-Eleven
announced it would no longer sell
those publications in any of its 4500
stores, claiming the boycott had noth-
ing to do with it.

But I don’t believe that. I believe
Falwell should claim his victory and
take pride in it.

After all, it may not take any brains
to held up one 7-Eleven. But you do
have to have a lot on the ball to hold
up 4500 of them.

Henry Senniville
Pompano Beach, Florida
Good work. It's going to annoy the Rever-
end Wildmon that Jerry's getting all the
credit.

Chicago Tribune

The higher morality of power

[We haven't been the only publication
to note that the Meese commission is about
the abuse of power, not pornography. The
following editorial is from the May 2,
1986, Chicago ‘Tribune, a paper well
known for its conservative views. ]

Skepticism about the unchecked use
of Government power used to be one of
the main tenets of the conservative
faith. But judging from a letter sent by
Attorney General Edwin Mecse's Com-
mission on Pornography to major con-
venience and pharmacy chains as well
as other businesses, the Reagan
Administration does not believe this
principle applies to its moral crusades.

The commission's letter warned the
retail chains that they have been identi-
fied as “involved in the sale or distribu-
tion of pornography” because they
stock magazines the commission deems
unacceptable, including rLaysoy and
Penthouse.

‘This loaded message is a gross abuse
of Government power. It ought to be
condemned, whatever you may think of
the publications it attacks.

There arc laws governing what kind
of sexually explicit material may be
published and sold. Obscenity statutes
must meet the Supreme Court’s stand-
ards in order not to run afoul of the
Constitution, but they do for!
sale of certain kinds of publications.
Mr. Meese's Justice Department and
all the various state law-enforcement
authorities can bring cascs in court to
apply them through the ordinary proc-
esses of the law.

But instead, the Meese commission
has circumvented these normal proce-
dures, which are meant to restrain the
awesome power of law enforcement in
‚order to prevent abusive conduct on the
part of Government officials. The com-
mission has decided on its own to
accuse a group of businesses of ped-
dling porn and dare them not to stop. It
is stunning in its arrogance, and it bor-
ders on a kind of official blackmail.

Forget for a moment about the
impact of such a tactic on free expres-

sion. Even if the target were not a form
of speech, the tactic would reek of abu-
siveness. Imagine if some Government
commission decided to send out letters:
in loaded language to retailers, accus-
ing them of cngaging in some other
form of conduct that it believed was
immoral, even though it had not been
determined to be illegal. Say it decided
that certain perfumes and after-shave
were unduly provocative or that alco-
hol was not the kind of thing decent
people bought and sold.
Would an advisory commission,
without the authority to bring criminal
1 charges, be justified in issuing
id of warning to retailers, just
because its members had decided what
they think is good and bad for the pub-
lic? Of course not. The judgment about
what this country forbids is supposed
to be made by the legislature, not some
rogue commission bent on scourging
society of sin.
The commission might think that it
can get away with it this time simply

because it is taking out after the likes of

тілувоу and Penthouse. It might assume
that decent, ordinary folks will hesitate
to complain because they might not
like those publications much them-
selves. But this is not a matter of taste.
Itis a basic matter of legal process and
Governmental self-restraint.

If the commission wants to propose a
new law to govern sexually explicit
material, then let it do so. Congress and
the courts will review the suggestion in
the ordinary course. If Mr. Meese
wants to bring a prosecution against
those who publish and scll these maga-
zines, then he ought to do so and try to
convince a skeptical judiciary that the
material is obscene.

But somebody ought to take Mr,
Meese and the members of the commis-
sion aside and give them a little in-
struction on a kind of public morality they
have apparently forgotten about in the
enthusiasm of their crusade: the funda-
mental morality of power and the law.
een

O N

On March 14, 1986, The Association
of American Publishers sent four letters to
the members of the Attorney General's
Commission on Pornography. John Up-
dike, William Kennedy, Susan Isaacs and
John Irving offered their testimony on the
effects of censorship. What follows is ex-
cerpled from those letters.

I think that the relative sexual open-
ness of recent times, including the pub-
lic sale of magazines and books that
many consider reprehensible, has made
my fellow Americans more tolerant and
genial, less condemnatory and ignorant
than they were before, in these long-
shrouded arcas of human intimacy. It
would be a great step backward to
rescind this openness and to strengthen
the dark forces for censorship. Already,
these forces, in the shape of school
librarians, local vigilantes and groups
informally pressuring bookstores and
newsstands, are too powerful. They
would make our society less adult and
less free. As а person and as a profes-
sional writer, 1 deplore any abridgment
‚of our First Amendment rights as pres-
ently interpreted.

John Updike
Beverly, Massachusetts

On the matter of restricting lan-
guage in books on grounds that it
serves the cause ol antipornography,
may I please differ. What such legisla-
tion would do is restrict a writer's abil-
ity to reflect the truth of his time, for
language is one of the major instru-
ments that define time. .

American writers . should have
no legali: fetters that confine the
imagination as it seeks to define the raw.
and radiant truths of the age. If law-
makers fecl so strongly about the lan-
guage, let them use it themselves; let
them write their own books and com-
pete in the market place for the atten-
tion of the public mind. In resorting to
censorship, they not only imprison
writers, they imprison readers as well,

ат Kennedy
Averill Park, New York

Ever since we have had a First
Amendment, we have had people at-
tempting to restrict it. For generations,
there have been jurists, clergy, legisla-
tors and laymen trying to figure out just
what pomography is, and nobody has

succeeded. What is redeeming social
value, after all? Is it a film that’s bad
for my 12-year-old but acceptable for
my 15-year-old? Is it a book my hus-
band and I can read in our suburban
bedroom with no bad effect but that
might trigger some Manhattan psycho-
path?

‘There are two main questions here:
Where do we draw the line and who is
going to draw it? The answer is that I
don’t know and I don’t think anyone
else does, either. What's mildly titillat-
ing to me may be your absolute filth.
Some fellow's pinup girl may be to me
a shocking exploitation of women.
What do we do? Denounce the work?

“TRIS 15 THE UNITED STATES, NOT
THE SOVIET UNION; AND THIS IS NOT
THE UNITED STATES OF COTTON
MATHER, EITHER, 1 DON'T TRUST A
SINGLE ONE OF MY FELLOW
AMERICANS TO TELL ME WHAT
PORNOGRAPHY IS.”
— JOHN IRVING

Ignore it? Pass still another law to sup-
press its distribution or sale? Burn it?

Who is to make these decisions? It’s
easy to say the law will decide, but
someone has to interpret that law.
There isn't a person alive whom I trust
to make these choices for me. Forget the
obvious bétes noires of the anticensor-
ship forces, the Jerry Falwells of the
right, the Andrea Dworkins of the left.
Naturally, I don’t want those types
anywhere near my library or movie the-
ater determining what I can or cannot
be exposed to. But no one—not my
husband, my editor, my best friend or
my rabbi—has the right to decide what
I, a free citizen, can see or hear or
read.

And I—writer, wife, mother, etc.—
should have no power to decide what a
Wyoming ranch hand or a Los Angeles
sophisticate or my next-door neighbor
should have access to. Like all my fel-
low citizens, I have definite tastes and
prejudices and, like all of them, I lack
the wisdom to make such profoundly
personal decisions for other people.

We have laws enough on the books
now. Certainly, no one will dispute the
right to legislate to protect those un-

CENSORSHIP

able to protect themselves—children,
animals—from being exploited. Legis-
lation can legitimately prevent the dis
tribution of pornography to minors.
But do we need more laws to protect
adults? I say No.

Susan Isaacs

Sands Point, New York

Itis a frightening time to be a novel-
ist and to be an American citizen
devoted to the freedom to write—and
the freedom to read—throughout the
world. Pm very aware of writers
who've been imprisoned for what they
write and writers who are tortured for
what they write; and I am very aware
of the censorship that is standard in the
Soviet Union and in other countries not
committed to democracy. I am also
aware of an increase in censorship
within my own country; I will not sug-
gest that the enthusiasm for censorship
among my fellow Americans is solely to
be blamed on an increasingly right-
wing agenda, influenced by an increas-
ingly selfrighteous Moral Majority
(so-called). I have seen a rise in censor-
ship of a left-wing inspiration, too—to
ban Mark Twain and Faulkner, for
example, for alleged “racism”; to
ban Bernard Malamud for alleged
"anti-Semitism." I find this form of cen-
sorship as wrongheaded and as anti-
American as the censorship of Kurt
Vonnegut or John Updike—or John
Trving— because we are “obscene.”

Charlotte Brontë wrote in her
introduction to Jane Eyrein 1847, “Con-
ventionality is not morality. Self
righteousness is not religion. To attack
the first is not to assail the last.” She
said this because the English critics of
her day suggested censoring her.

Recently, I read that Attorney Gen-
eral Meese was critical of the present
Supreme Court. Among the things that
the Attorney General sought were ways
to protect our Constitution, and cur
laws, from what he called an ideolog
cal predilection. 1 am 100 percent in
favor of protecting us from that, too.
And if you legislate against pornogra-
phy in the United States, who is going
to tell us what pornography is? Some-
one free of the taint of any ideological
predilection, I suppose.

"This is the United States, not the
Soviet Union; and this is not the United
States of Cotton Mather, either. 1 don't
trust a single one of my fellow Amer
cans to tell me what pornography is.

John Irving
New York, New York

N ES WS FRONT

what's happening in the sexual and social arenas

MEN HAVE FEELINGS, TOO

SACRAMENTO—A 30-year-old janitor
for an elementary school claims that he
had to seek psychiatric help to deal with
the embarrassment caused when four
female teachers tried to hire him for 825 to
do a striptease at a fellow teacher's 40th-

birthday party. He has filed a sexual-
harassment complaint with the state,
wanis an apology from the women and
asks that the school hold a workshop on
sexual harassment and that the school dis-
trict pay for his psychiatric treatment.

The Selective Serv-
ice System will be given the names of
applicants for student loans and grants ın
order to help the military track down
young men who have failed to register for
the draft. The mew arrangement is
expected lo result in a few thousand let-
ters' going to student-aid applicants whose
names don’t appear on the draft-
registration lists, gently reminding them
that noncompliance could deny them Gov-
ernment assistance and may result in
prosecution.

HIRED GUNS

Soldier of Fortune magazine has,
coincidentally, decided to stop accepting
classified ads for mercenaries after police
arrested nine armed men allegedly
recruited through the ads to storm a court-
room and free a life prisoner being tried
for killing a fellow inmate. One of those
recruited was an undercover police officer
who went along with the alleged plot until
he and his associates reached a motel in

Anderson, Indiana, where the escape was
supposed to take place. A Soldier of For-
tune editor said that the policy change
preceded the arrest and had nothing to do,
either, with a Texas murder-for-hire plot
that prosecutors claimed had been brought
about through the same classifieds.

EMERYVILLE, CALIFORNIA—The Cetus
Corporation reports the development of
the first diagnostic test that detects the
AIDS virus itself rather than the presence
of antibodies, which signal only that a
person has been exposed, The biotechnol-
ogy firm says that its test is “virus spe-
afc,” using а “gene-prote” method
genetically engineered to bind with only
the segment of the DNA molecule that is
unique to the AIDS virus. Because of its
specificity, the test is expected to be a one-
step, highly reliable and relatively inex-
pensive procedure.

Elsewhere:

А study published in the Western
Journal of Medicine has found that of 80
consecutive patients referred to a Univer-
sity of California clinic for treatment of
AIDS or its related conditions, eight, or
ten percent, turned out to have been
wrongly diagnosed and actually had other
diseases.

* A Canadian study involving the rec-
ords of 700 homosexual males since 1982
has found no evidence that the AIDS
virus is transmitted through oral sex, rais-
ing speculation that the virus is destroyed
by the pH levels of the stomach.

* A study by the National Cancer Insti-
tute has found that one out of three homo-
sexual males in Manhattan who tested
positive for the AIDS virus in 1982 had
developed the disease itself by 1985, a per-
centage considerably higher than expected.

* Medical researchers who initially were
pessimistic about finding an AIDS vac-
cine are now reporting important break-
throughs in biomolecular technology,
leading to new drugs that soon will be
tested with monkeys,

NECROPHILIA BANNED

MADISON, WISCONSIN—In a state noted
for its antisex laws, the Wisconsin legisla-
ture has closed one last, glaring loophole
by prohibiting sex with corpses. The issue
arose in the case of a rapist who had been
sentenced to life in prison for murder but
could not be convicted of first-degree sex-
ual assault because the victim may have
already been dead.

WASHINGTON, D.C—Expanding on а
1976 ruling that allowed cities to reg-
ulate X-rated movie theaters by dispers-
ing them throughout a community, the
U.S. Supreme Court now has upheld an
ordinance in Renton, Washington, that
regulates the theaters “by effectively con-
centrating them” with zoning restrictions.
The Renton law confines the theaters and,
presumably, other “adult” businesses to a
520-acre industrialized area laced with
railroad tracks, where not too many people
are inclined to go for entertainment.
Attorneys for both sides said they expected
the decision to trigger similar ordinances
in many other cities.

MATTER OF PRINCIPLE

GROTTOES, VIRGINIA—A county circuit
court has upheld the authority of Vir-
ginia’s Division of Motor Vehicles to
repossess the vanity license plate ATH-EST
after an anonymous citizen squawked that
it looked as if the letters stood for ATHEIST.
The citizen was correct; and since then,
atheist motorist Arnold Via has been in
court, raising hell over his right to free
speech, especially since he'd already had
the plate on his Burgundy Cadillac for
three years and since the D.M.V. routinely
issues such plates as SAVED, PRAY and
RISEN. The case has been the subject of edi-
torials in local papers, which have mar-

veled at the state's responsiveness to one
citizen's complaint. Via is appealing his
case, raising funds through sale of such
novelties as a T-shirt picturing the ATH-
est license plate under the caption
SAVE ARNOLD'S TAG.

PLAYBOY SUES MEESE

On May 16, 1986, Playboy Enterprises,
The American Booksellers Association
and the Council for Periodical Distribu-
tors Associations filed a lawsuit against
Edwin Meese III, the Atiorney General of
the United States; Alan Sears, the execu-
tive director of the Attorney General's
Commission on Pornography; Henry
Hudson, the commission chairman; a:
each member of the commission.

The complaint refers to the commis-
sion's charter, “to determine the nature,
extent and impact on society of
pornography... and to make specific
recommendations to the Attorney General
concerning more effective ways in which
the spread of pornography could be con-
tained, consistent with constitutional
guarantees." The suit alleges that Alan
Sears, on behalf of the commission, in Feb-
ruary 1986 mailed a letter written on Jus-
lice Department letterhead to numerous
corporations, advising the recipient
companies that they had been identified in
“relevant testimony” by an unidentified
witness as being involved in the “sale or
distribution” of “pornography.” That let-
ter, in part, led Southland Corporation
(7-Eleven), People's Drug Stores and Rite
Aid Drug Stores to stop distribution and
sale of т.лувоу and certain other lawful
publications.

Most legal pleadings are about as lucid
and easy to read as a liability-insurance
policy, but this one is uncommonly clear.
Following are excerpts that we think will
be of interest lo our readers.

This action seeks to enjoin the Attor-
ney General’s Commission on Pornog-
raphy and the individual defendants
from publicly disseminating a “black-
list" and from taking other actions for
the purpose of censoring and suppress-
ing the distribution and sale of PLAYBOY
magazine and other lawful and con-
stitutionally protected publications.

The commission’s letter [the Sears
letter] can reasonably be read to imply
that the unidentified witness was a law-
enforcement professional or an other-
wise credible and unbiased witness. In
fact, however, the unidentified witness
was the Reverend Donald Wildmon,
executive director of the National Fed-
eration for Decency. As the commission
knew, Reverend Wildmon did not even
claim to be a neutral and unbiased wit-
ness. To the contrary, he was an open
and vigorous proponent of Governmen-
tal suppression or regulation of consti-
tutionally protected speech.

As the commission knew, Wildmon's
definition of pornography is so

all-encompassing that it includes a vast
amount of nonobscene and lawful
material. Given the breadth of his defi-
nition of pornography, it is not surpris-
ing that in the course of his testimony,
Wildmon identified as “major players
in the game of pornography” several
companies he described as “well
known household names,” including
CBS, Inc., Time Inc., Ramada Inns,
RCA and Coca-Cola. He also alleged
that “the U.S. Government fosters,
encourages and receives profits from
pornography” and that “the military
exchanges are major distributors of
pornography.”

The commission’s letter and threat-
ened public dissemination of the list
constitute informal Governmental cen-
sorship that is intended to achieve and
has already achieved the results of a
criminal prosecution or other law-
enforcement proceeding, without af-
fording the procedural protections and
safeguards that are constitutionally
required before the Government may
censor or suppress speech.

The commission’s letter and threat-
ened public dissemination of the list
constitute an informal method of law
enforcement, the practical effect of
which has been, and will continue to
be, to place a ban on the distribution
and sale of PLAYBOY magazine, and of
other lawful publications, without
affording those magazines a fair hear-
ing before an impartial tribunal.

The commission's letter constitutes
an administrative prior restraint that
effectively suppresses lawful speech be-
fore that speech has been found unlaw-
ful in a judicial proceeding.

The commission intends publicly to
disseminate a list, or blacklist, of per-
sons and companies identified asdistrib-
utors or retailers of pornography, in the
hope and expectation that publication
of the list will bring social and eco-
nomic pressure to bear on distributors
and retailers of pLayaoy magazine, and
of other lawful publications, to cease dis-
tribution and sale of those publications.

Dissemination of such a list does not
have, and cannot have, any legitimate
legislative purpose, any legitimate law-

nforcement purpose or any other legit-
imate Governmental purpose.

The commission intends to publish
such a list for the purpose of exposing
persons and companies that distribute
and sell pLaysoy magazine, and other law-
ful publications, and fostering public
disapproval of and economic pressure

upon those persons and companies.

‘The commission was not established
by any act of Congress and is not
required or authorized to make recom-
mendations to Congress.

The charter that established the com-
mission provides that the purpose of the
commission is to make a report of its
findings, its recommendations and its
conclusions “to the Attorney General.”
The charter does not direct or author-
ize the commission to make recommen-
dations, or reports, or statements of
any kind, directly to the public.

The Attorney General is not required
by any statute, or otherwise, to accept
or adopt any recommendations, find-
ings or conclusions the commission
may make, and is free to reject them

Because the Constitution prohibits
Governmental entities from attempt
to curb or suppress the sale or distribu-
tion of рілувоу magazine, or of other
lawful publications, a recommendation
by the commission to the Attorney
General to publish the blacklist
described above would violate the Con-
stitution, and would therefore exceed
the commission’s authority, specified in
its charter, to make only recommenda-
tions that are “consistent with constitu-
tional guarantees.”

WHEREFORE, plaintifs respect-
fully pray that the court:

1. Issue a preliminary and perma-
nent injunction:

Directing the commission to issue to
all recipients of the commission’s letter
a notice withdrawing the letter and the
warning contained therein that failure
to respond will be taken as an admis-
sion that the recipient does not object
to being publicly identifed as a di
tributor of pornography, and notifying
recipients that the commission does not
consider PLAYBOY magazine or other
constitutionally protected materials to
be obscene or unlawful and does not
contend that distributors or retailers
could be criminally prosecuted for dis-
tributing or selling such constitution-
ally protected materials;

Prohibiting the defendants from
employing the inference threatened by
the commission’s letter in listing or
otherwise describing any distributor,
retailer or publisher as a distributor,
retailer or publisher of pornographic
materials;

2. Award plaintiffs monetary dam-
ages in an amount to be ascertained.

Stay tuned. We'll let you know
how it turns oul. El

PERFORMANCE COUNTS.

THE THRILL OF REAL CIGARETTE TASTE IN A LOW TAR.

9 mg. "tar", 0.7 mg. nicotine av. per cigarette by FTC method.

SURGEON GENERAL'S WARNING: Smoking
By Pregnant Women May Result in Fetal
Injury, Premature Birth, And Low Birth Weight.

A SERIOUS WORD ON BREWING

FROM THE FUNNIEST BEER IN AMERICA.

The cast of characters who
have helped make Miller Lite
famous has brought America a lot
of laughs. But the beer that stands
behind them happens to be one of the
most serious creations in the history
of brewing.

After all, the very idea of
Lite was once considered an
impossibility: a truly full-flavored
beer that was significantly lower
in calories than regular beer.

AMERICA’S FAVORITE LIGHT BEER
Today Miller Lite is far and

away the largest-selling light beer

in America and the nation's

second largest-selling beer of any kind.
This remarkable perfor

mance took a lot more than a good

sense of humor. The brewing process

that gives Lite its superior

taste uses no fewer than 128 quality

checks along the way to the bottle.

MORE HOPS, MORE FLAVOR

Lite's flavor is achieved by
using two kinds of hops instead
of just one for more hop flavor than
most other light beers.
Then the flavor is meticulously
balanced to a perfectly mellow, well
rounded pilsner beer
containing no additives or
preservatives.

The only way to achieve this
much character in any beer is
quality brewing every step of the way.
To achieve it consistently in a beer
with only 96 calories is a long way
from funny. It's unprecedented.

THERE'S ONLY ONE
LITE BEER.
MILLER LITE.

sanos. JACKIE GLEASON

a candid conversation wilh Ihe legendary “great one” about drinking
with bogey, ralph kramden's sex life and bang-zoom trips to the moon

Think about this: In some markets, Ted
Koppel and his "Nightline" are getting se-
rious competition from a fat, irascible bus
driver named Ralph Kramden, the main
character in a sitcom that's 30 years old. Of
course, as far as many diehard “Honey-
mooners” fans are concerned, it would take a
‘full-scale attack by Libya and a hostage crisis,
to boot, for them to switch from that one-room
tenement in a Brooklyn neighborhood that
never was.

Which is why it’s not at all surprising that
today 70-year-old Herbert John Gleason—
a.k.a. Ralph Kramden, a.k.a. The Great One
(that last appellation courtesy of Orson
Welles) —is basking m a sort of recycled sun-
shine. The principal cause of this new light is
a batch of “Honeymooners” segments—
henceforth known as the lost episodes—that
carry with them the import of a mislaid
Mozart symphony. Unseen since their origi-
nal broadcast some 30 years ago, the 62
long-stashed kinescopes were preserved in a
chilled Miami vault and have only recently
been excavated. Before that discovery, a scant
39 half hours of “Honeymooners,” filmed
during the 1955-1956 television season,
constituted the incomplete canon of Kram-
denia. Subsequently tagged the classic 39 by
purists, these episodes have been rerun in
some markets hundreds of times apiece,

“In Hollywood, they call you sweetie and
baby. At first, you think, What the hell is he
calling me sweetie for? Then, after a while,
you don’t even hear it. It all mixes in with the
automobile noises.”

gleaning new generations of devotees along
the way.

The Great One's new popularity may well
be the sweetest renaissance ever experienced
by a living actor. There's RALPH (the Royal
Association for the Longevity and Preser-
vation of “The Honeymooners”), whose
membership boasts 12,000 card-carrying
disciples—Honeymoonies?—among them,
Bruce Springsteen and Cyndi Lauper. Then
there's the newly published, reverential tome
“The Official Honeymooners Treasury.” In
March, Gleason was inducted into the Televi-
sion Academy's Hall of Fame. And on its
heels, there's a campaign to see that he at last
gets a special Emmy award to make up for the
one that has somehow eluded him during the
span of his remarkable career.

If celebrity is just as sweet the second time
around, we at pLaysoy remember the chal-
lenge it was to get Jackie Gleason to sit for his
“Playboy Interview” more than 23 years ago.
It was 1962, and Gleason, then a barreling
locomotive of showbiz high life, was tearing
along at breakneck speed. With his “Honey-
mooners” gig supposedly a thing of the
past, he had knocked off five movies in two
years: “The Hustler” (for which he garnered
his lone Oscar nomination), with Paul
Newman; “Gigot” (his auteur Chaplinesque
classic); “Soldier in the Rain,” with Steve

“You ask me, do 1 like to work? No. Not
unless it's something interesting. A lot of peo-
ple say, Well, | like a challenge.” I don't like
challenges. Life is tough enough without any
challenges.”

McQueen; “Requiem for a Heavyweight,"
with Anthony Quinn; and the overlooked gem
“Papa's Delicate Condition.”

The mush-lush albums of mood music he
churned out with his Jackie Gleason Orches-
tra clogged the record charts. His trademark
catch phrases—"Aua-a-ay we go," “You're
goin’ to the moon” and “How sweet it is!" —
were stapled firmly to national consciousness.
And, of course, every detail of “The Jackie
Gleason Show,” which ranked sturdily in the
top len, was personally supervised by its
economy-sized namesake.

Two years after his “Playboy Interview,”
Gleason demanded that CBS move produc-
tion of his blockbuster show to the balmier
clime of Miami Beach, Florida. Naturally,
the network acquiesced, and Gleason became
an instant state treasure.

So he is today among the last of the all-
purpose show-business legends, a dinosaur
who defiantly stomped wherever he pleased in
the realm of performance and conquered all
comers. Even Ralph Kramden, an occasional
victim of hyperbolic delusion, would have jus-
tifiably argued that “The Honeymooners”
was easily the biggest thing that Jackie Glea-
son ever got into (his wife, Alice, however,
might have countered that it was his pants).
There's no doubt that Kramden was Glea-
son's role of a lifetime. As John O'Hara once

б К.
PHOTOGRAPHY BY BRIAN НАМИ.

“It's strange to me that Miami would accept a
show like ‘Miami Vice.’ The stuff those guys
wear—T-shirts underneath — jackets —uas
worn years ago. Bums walked around like
that. Come to think of it, so did Ed Norton,”

PLAYBOY

wrote, “Ralph Kramden is a character
we might be getting from Mr. Dickens if
he were writing for TV.”

Gleason first tried Ralph Kramden on for
size in 1951, while hosting “Cavalcade of
Stars” on the DuMont network. In 1952, he
hatched “The Jackie Gleason Shou” on CBS,
and “The Honeymooners” came withit. So popu-
lar were the sketches that Gleason—notorious
for demanding elephantine sums of money—
signed a $15,000,000 contract with Buick,
promising two seasons of self-contained
“Honeymooners” shows starting in 1955.
After the first year, he backed out of the com-
mitment, contending that has standards for
the show couldn't be maintained, He then
sold “the classic 39” into syndication for the
relative pittance of $2,000,000.

Yet holding out may be the best revenge:
Last year, Gleason, for an undisclosed (read
staggering) chunk, sold to Viacom In-
ternational the syndication rights to all the
remaining “Honeymooners” shetches—rang-
ing in length from ten minutes to nearly an
hour—staged on the CBS variety show be-
tween 1952 and 1957. Showtime began
beaming “the lost episodes” over cable last
September, and the shows are ready to go into
general syndication next month throughout
the United States.

As the grandiloquent Great One told us in
the 1962 grilling, it was more of a shimmy up
from the streets of Brooklyn than a meteoric,
overnight bounce to superstardom. It went
something like this:

Bom in Bushwick on February 26, 1916,
he was introduced to vaudeville at an early
age by his hard-drinking father, who skipped
town when Jackie was eight. His mother, a
coddling woman, died in 1935 and Gleason,
who'd been lingering in Brooklyn pool halls,
left for Manhattan's club circuit.

Jack L. Warner saw Gleason's club act in
1941 and nailed him to a studio contract. In
1948, Ed Sullivan's “Toast of the Town”
program. greased Gleason's television debut.
The next year brought the short-lived “Life of
Riley” series, and then came 1950, when
Gleason was tapped to front “Cavalcade of
Stars.”

And from there, away he went,

Those are the facts. A little hander to pin
down are the legends of Gleason's full life:
the “broads,” as he still calls them, the booze,
the fits of ego, the star turns. To this day, he
signs letters The Great Gleason. He has rip-
snorted with the best (Sinatra, Bogey,
DiMaggio, Duke Wayne), shot pool with
Willie Mosconi, golfed with Richard Nixon.

His first marriage (to Genevieve Hal-
ford —u survived 34 years and produced two
daughters) ended in 1970. His second, to
former Baltimore secretary Beverly McKit-
trick, lasted only four years. And late in
1975, he went for number three: Marilyn
Taylor Horwich—sister of his longtime cho-
reographer June Taylor—with whom he had
fallen. in love when she danced on his show
20 years earlier. This marriage, now in its
11th year, is flourishing.

In 1970, “The Jackie Gleason Show,”
whose ratings hovered in the top 20, was can-

celed when demographics portrayed its audi-
ence as over the hill. Gleason moved into a
home on the grounds of the Inverrary Coun-
try Club in the Fort Lauderdale area, just off
a golf course christened The Great One.
Until 1979, he hosted the popular Jackie
Gleason Inverrary Classic there.

Eight years ago, while in Chicago touring
with Fox,” he suffered a heart attack.
Triple-bypass surgery led to a full recovery.

Aside from reruns, Gleason's television pro-
file dwindled, There were three "Honeymoon-
ers” specials, a Dean Martin roast and the
CBS movie “Izzy and Moe,” which reteamed
him with Art Carney. Recent film work, none
extraordinary, has included the “Smokey and
the Bandit” trilogy, with Burt Reynolds,
“The Toy,” with Richard Pryor, and “The
Sting I1," which was simply a mistake.

Gleason's forthcoming film, “Nothing in
Common,” scheduled for release this summer,
promises a return to acting of substance.
Directed by Garry (“Happy Days,” “The Fla-
mingo Kid") Marshall, it’s billed as “a very
serious comedy” about the irreparable rela-
tionship between a young ad exec (Tom
Hanks) and his cantankerous father (Gleason).

Since The Great One refuses to give inter-
views of any sort in his home—they remind.
him too much of work—we dispatched Bill
Zehme to infiltrate the Chicago set of “Noth-

"All of a sudden, Гт a
genius. You know what a
genius is? It's a guy who

knows that he isn't one.

ing in Common,” where Gleason agreed to
fill in the gaps of the past two decades and
reminisce about his glorious second honey
moon. Zehme reports:

“On my first day with Jackie Gleason, he
ate a bus driver alive. The square-off hap-
pened within the fictional confines of a movie
scene: His character sideswipes a rapid-
transit vehicle on Chicago's North Side and,
like Ralph Kramden, vefuses to accept the
blame himself. As the cameras whirred,
Gleason's temper steadily went white-hot. The
eyes bugged. The jowls billowed. The voice
roared. It was thrilling, probably somewhat
metaphorical and just slightly foreboding.

“I was pleasantly surprised, though. The
Great One, it seems, has gone marshmallowy.
He was as serene as a snoozing lynx. He was
kind, avuncular and generous. I hunkered
down in his padded trailer and logged dozens
of how's with him between exterior shots
around the Windy City. ‘It helps pass the
time, he often acknowledged. During much
of that time, his wife, Marilyn, sat with us,
doing needlework and listening. He fre-
quently flirted with her. As I plied him with
questions, some of them plainly impertinent,
he sat, smoked (a couple of packs per session),
nibbled cheese, guzzled cinnamon-spiced cof-
fee (unspiked) and never once threatened to

send me to the moon.

“He chooses not to trifle with introspection.
He is, however, a nostalgic swoon. Charmed
with the notion of doing his second ‘Playboy
Interview,’ he leaped at the chance to review
his first one before we got under way. Not that
he is unimpressed with what he means to peo-
ble today. I watched one afternoon when a
pale young woman approached Gleason on
the street and asked for an autograph to give
her dying father. The Great One obliged and,
handing back her paper scrap, announced
grandly, ‘This will give him ten more
years."

PLAYBOY: We'll get around to what Honey-
mooners fanatics want to read about; but
first, a little history. We asked you to
refresh your memory by rereading the
interview Рглувоу did with you in Decem-
ber 1962. What do you think now of Jackic
Gleason back then?

GLEASON: You know, I read the thing and
told my wife, Marilyn [smiles], “That
guy's gonna succeed." That interview was
an absolute assertion on my part all the
way through. You had to have a lot of guts
to do that. But that was the attitude for a
kid who had just hit show business big to
have. That was the way to go. Fearless.
PLAYBOY: Á theme that runs through that
interview is the importance of being
egocentric. Do you still consider yourself
ice

"ve never denied my ego. As I

* once said, an actor's vanity is an actor's

courage. It’s the only thing that keeps him
going. For someone who makes $200,000
or $300,000 a week to walk out onto a
stage and entertain maybe 1,000,000 peo-
ple, humility is senseless. If he starts scuf-
fling the sand with his toe, he's full of crap.
It’s commercial naïveté.

PLAYBOY: Then you won't quibble with the
word genius when it’s applied to you, as
some Critics do today?

GLEASON: I know. We laugh about it. All of.
a sudden, I'm a genius. You know what a
genius is? It’s a guy who knows that he
isn't one. That's tough to do when you're
in show business. Everybody's praising
you and jumping up and down. The whole
business is superlatives. In Hollywood,

they call you sweetie and baby. At first,
you think, What the hell is he calling me
sweetie lor? Then, after a while, you don't
even hear it. It all mixes in with the
automobile noises.

PLAYBOY: So when the character you
played in Soldier in the Rain—ıhe 1963
film you did with Steve MeQueen— said
it's tough being a fat narcissist —
GLEASON: I’m not really narcissi be-
cause I don't fool myself. I can have ego,
because I realize that l've got talent, and
that's fortunate.

PLAYBOY: That takes care of the narcissist
part. Care to comment on thc other part?

GLEASON: I never thought I was fat. I real-
ly didn't. The only reason that I knew I
was fat—and disliked it—is that I like to
wear nice clothes.

PLAYBOY: Would you have become as popu-
lar if you had weighed 130 pounds?
GLEASON: Yes, because 1 would have done
a dillerent kind of comedy. But when
you're fat, you can get away with murder.
If you're slim and handsome, you don't
look like a comic—though when I started
on television, І was very thin. That's
because Vd been in Hollywood, working
as a contract play
of the directors had si
weight, he can be a leading man." So they
put me in the hospital, where 1 lost weight
so fast that my beard wouldn't grow. Then
my skin started to peel, and I got the hell
out of there.

PLAYBOY: How much did you los:
GLEASON: About 30 pounds in two weeks.
PLAYBOY: In your publicity stills from that
time, you look suave, svelte and a lot like
Robert Taylor.

GLEASON: In those days, studio photogra-
phers made everybody look like Robert
Taylor.

PLAYBOY: So, as a result, Warners decided
that you were too handsome to be funny?
GLEASON: Yeah. [ played gangsters,
escaped convicts and Arabs. They were
mostly wartime pict
you killed the Nazis, they were hits.
PLAYBOY: Isn't there a comedy axiom that
fat is funny
GLEASON: Well, that's not truc. Otherwise,
everybody fat would be making money as
a comedian. Tragically, many people who
are fat can’t make a living, can’t make
friends, can't do anything. Show business
is different. You can be fat, have all the
friends you want and make money. There
is a discouraging line between real life and
entertainment.

Fat jokes have been a staple in
cr. Have they ever stung?

ever, never. If they had both-
ered me, I would have lost weight. And
even when I weighed 260, I was doing 885
and somersaults. I could always move.
PLAYBOY: What's your fighting weight?
GLEASON: About 210.

PLAYBOY: Is it true that the sex lives of the
overweight are morc interesting?
GLEASON: No, but people might like to be-
lieve ît. I once said that sex fora fat man is
much ado about pulling

PLAYBOY: We should probably have a more
subtle way to bring up The Honeymooner
but .. . what kind of sex life do you think
Ralph and Alice Kramden had?
GLEASON: Well, you know.
show, when they'd kiss, you could
ine that they must get along pretty
good. You never got to see the bedroom. I
felt it was better to leave that room to an

s and, as k

ally, was very important: if we
three shows in a row without it, pco-
would have hated The Honeymooners.
"They would have thought, Jesus, it's just
arguing all the time.

PLAYBOY: [t wasn't just the bedroom that
you didn't show on The Honeymooners.
The episodes mostly took place in one

at the end of

cramped room. Why?

GLEASON: You know, from the beginning,
we were criticized: Why were we in this
dump, this one room? Why didn't we
expand? But the idea was to get onto the
stage and make people laugh. If we needed
different locations to do that, we weren't
doing a good job. If the four of us could
walk around and past one another in that
little space, week after week, and make
audiences laugh, then we were doing
something that had quality, We never used
jokes. I hate jokes. That's all you see in
some of the sitcoms now.

But, truthfully, The Honeymooners is a
reflection of real life. Ralph is a funny
character, a guy who makes excuses for his
failures by blaming them on everyone
other than himself, which is human
nature. People recognize that. Everybody
who watches the show has failed from time
to time. Even if you are a success, you can
look at it and say, "Jesus, 1 remember
when I went through all that crap, trying
to make it.”

The fact is, the audience can feel supe-
rior to the Honeymooners. For instance,
they have nicer homes than the Kramdens.
And there's something about feeling supe-
rior to a piece of material that allows you
to be more generous with your applause

“Tragically, many people
who are fat can't make a living,
make friends, do anything.
Show business is different."

and your laughter. So that was a psycho-
logical point in our favor.

PLAYBOY: According to legend, the Kram-
den apartment was modeled on the flat in
the Bushwick section of Brooklyn where
you and your mother lived during your
teens.

GLEASON: Almost exactly. We had maybe
two more rooms, Therc was a front room,
two bedrooms and the kitchen, with the
window leading to a fire escape. We had a
dresser there, which is where everything
was kept. And the table, which was the
center, the working table, the discussion
table, the pleasure table. Everything hap-
pened on that table.

PLAYBOY: How did Ralph come to be, of all
things, a bus driver?

GLEASON: | thought that was a good
profession for him, because bus drivers get
aggravated, and I was delighted with any-
thing that would aggravate Ralph. At one
point, I thought he'd be a policeman, but
that would have been out of his range of
intelligence. He wouldn't Бе forceful
enough, and it just didn't fit him. And I
wanted Ed Norton in the sewer, because
his character was off the wall. W better
profession could a guy like that be in? And
it gave us a plethora of material.

PLAYBOY: Was there any reason that Ralph
almost always wore a uniform—either a
bus driver's or his Racoon Lodge's?
GLEASON: Yeah. Insecure people love to
put on the security ofa uniform.
PLAYBOY: Onc of the most controversial of
the recently unearthed Honeymooners epi-
sodes has Ralph and Alice just a heartbeat
away from adopting a child. Why were
there no Kramden offspring?
GLEASON: All sitcoms— Father Knous Best,
Ozzie and Harriet—had kids running
around in them. And when you have a
on a show, you have to pay him some
attention in the sketch. The kid’s got to
come walking out into scenes. And kids
can't time jokes or lines or dialog. To do a
show live with them, you'd be dead. So 1
decreed it—no kids.
PLAYBOY: Sounds a little like W. C. Fields’s
philosophy. Do you think Ralph would
have been a good father?
GLEASON: Oh, he would have for a while.
But, eventually, he'd get just as aggra-
vated with the kids as he would with his
wife. And that would have been danger-
ous. The audience will take it when he gets
aggravated with his wife, but if he keeps
going at a little kid, they're not going to
ike that.
PLAYBOY: About those constant threats
against Alice—“One of these days...
bang, zoom!" What convinced us that he'd
never deliver on the promise?
GLEASON: You see it. She stands there,
looking at him like he’s an idiot. She knows
he's not going to hit her, and that’s why
she stands there calmly and lets him blow
off steam. Everybody does that, you know,
threatens, “Ill murder him, Ell kill him!”
And then, when the guy comes in, your
attitude changes, downshifts to “What do
you mean by doing what you did?”
PLAYBOY: So you'd thought out what
Audrey Meadows would look like while
you were blustering?
GLEASON: I gave thought to every speck of
The Honeymooners. There were dos and
don'ts that made it very difficult for the
writers. Sometimes they would write
something that might get real big laughs,
but I knew it wasn't in character and it
wasn't right.

I remember one situation where Ralph
goes into a coffee shop and there's a beau-
tiful girl standing there, who starts to
throw charm on him, and he goes along
with her. Well, 1 knew that that wasn't
right, that he shouldn't do it. Even if he
would do it, he shouldn't do it on. The
Honeymooners.

PLAYBOY: Ralph wouldn't look past Alice?
GLEASON: No. she's il

PLAYBOY: Do you think you could get away
with the “bang-zoom” stuff today, given
the sensitivity of feminists?

GLEASON: It’s happening! People often ask
me whether such and such a thing on the
show would go over today. Well, what the
hell do they think it’s doing? Audiences
arc watching it, men and women, and they
think it’s a riot. Alice, in fact, might have

PLAYBOY

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been the first women's libber. Ralph
didn't get anywhere trying to downgrade
her. He tried, but he never won; she won
So, in a way, that was a forerunner of the
feminism stuff
PLAYBOY: Do you agree with Ralph that a
man is “the king of the castle"?
GLEASON: There are some men who think
that, and. Ralph was one of them. And
there was a legitimate reason for that. He
never achieved anything, so as a facade to
hide his failure, he would assume this
overwrought, pugnacious attitude. Alice
understood that
You know [voice

ing in anger], it took
time to figure out all these little things that

were necessary to sustain the show, to
make it a solid property. People used to
say about me, “Well, he doesn't rehearse.
Christ, he just walks in, does it and walks
out. He doesn't care." But I did care—and
I say that cgotistically. That's the only
thing that really steams me.

PLAYBOY: Of course, your distaste for re-
hearsals has never been a secret

GLEASON: I don't like to rehearse. I have a
photographic memory, so the day we do a
show is the day I look at the script. It's
unfair to the other performers; but, of
course, we had performers who could do a
show during the Civil people like
Audrey and Carney. At first, it was tough

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on them, too. But | wanted that spontaneity
І was criticized for that, but it turned out
that I was right. Why do you have to direct
four people who walk around a room? Peo-
ple walk around rooms all day. If you
bump into them, you push "em out of the
way. They come to you, you go to them.
It's more natural.

PLAYBOY: Wasn't there a name coined for
the kind of actor with whom you preferred
working?

GLEASON: [Smiles broadly] They used to
call them “Gleason actors." And we had a
bunch of them who would turn up playing
different characters. They would have to
be people with nerves of stecl who could
front of a firing squad. They
they knew there would be no
rehearsals, and they were just great, They
were very proud to be Gleason actors.
They were the survivors.

PLAYBOY: Audrcy still talks about being in
wars after her first show because of the
strain of working that way.

GLEASON: She told me about that later. To-
day, she says to me, “I wouldn't trade
those days for anything in the world.” All
those who complained in the begi
about its being rough always took pride in
having survived it

PLAYBOY: It probably goes without saying
that Art Carney is the greatest Gleason ac-
tor of them all.

GLEASON: Oh, Jesus, he is the epitome! He
out-Gleasons me! He did beautiful things.
One time, he was in the Kramden apart-
ment and he couldn't get out; the set was
stuck, and the door wouldn't open. So he
looked around and went out the window!

"The first time I worked with him, I saw
that this guy knew what the hell he was
doing. Every move he made was the right
move. That's what I looked for—moves in
performance. Dialog isn’t too important;
but if you see a guy make a difficult move
look easy, then you know he’s got some-
thing special.

With Carney, it obvious. In the first
Honeymooners, he played a cop. At the
of the scene, Alice and 1 were arguing
about my going down to Krausmeyer's
bakery for bread. I'm sayi You think I
care about bread?” And I throw a crust of
bread out the window. She says, “Well. 1
don’t care about cake!" So she throws a
cake out the window. Several seconds
later, there comes a knock on the door. [U's
Carney as a cop, with the cake all over
him. I say, “Gee, Um very sorry.” And he
says, “Watch it next time”; then he docs a
fanny little move and gocs away.

PLAYBOY: How long after that was Ed Nor-
ton incorporated into the show?

GLEASON: The very next week.

PLAYBOY: You've said you give Carney 90
percent of the credit for the series” suc-
cess.

GLEASON: [Shrugs] Oh, sure. Why not?
PLAYBOY: What was the catalyst in the
Gleason-Carney chemistry?
GLEASON: You can't descri
You just can't. There's an innate spark or

c chemistry

a bell that rings. And you know it.
PLAYBOY: Some people have compared it
with Laurel and Hardy's rapport. They
were fans of yours, were
GLEASON: Christ, we'd get calls from them.
If there was any similarity, it was in the
timing. But nobody could do what Laurcl
and Hardy did. They were spectacular.
Babe Hardy would call me up whenever I
went out to the Coast, and we'd get
together. He was beautiful. We'd be sitting
in Lakeside country club, drinking, and
he'd always have one car listening to the
television there. As soon as the commer-
cials came on, he would jump from the
table to watch; then he'd come back. I
never knew why. I guess he liked them.
PLAYBOY: Did vou drink with Hardy often?
GLEASON: Oh, certainly. He was a delight
to watch drinking, becausc he just like
his character. He'd wipe a drop off the
glass, pick it up with his pinkie way out,
sip it, put it down, tap it, very much like
the character that he played.

Stan Laurel, on the other hand, was far
from the character he played. He was the
brains; he wrote their stuff and, more or
less, directed their performances.

PLAYBOY: The Honeymooners had always
been just a sketch on The Jackie Gleason
Show. But during the 1955 season, the
most famous and enduring 39 episodes
were filmed as separate half-hour shows.
You had promised the network two years
of The Honeymooners, but you pulled out
after that lone 1955-1956 season, claim
that the quality couldn't be maintained.

fo, it couldn't, When I told
them I didn't want to do the second усаг,
they didn’t believe me. They thought I
had some other job. But we had done
every script you could think of. And it was
a good thing that we quit. We might have
continued and gone into the ground, and
the reputation of the first 39 would have
gone into the ground with us. I just didn't
want to get stuck.

PLAYBOY: But, of coursc, The Honeymooners
did return and flourish again as sketch seg-
ments on your show. Then, in 1957, you
sold the syndication rights to those classic
39 shows for a paltry $2,000,000. Do you
cver lie awake at night, ruing the day?
GLEASON: No, never. I sold them because 1
didn't want to get into the syndication
business. Christ, you'd have to hire thou-
sands of people, such as accountants and
s to keep track of where the show
ng. Its a very complicated thing.
With all the outlay for help and offices and
everything, I might've made a couple of
hundred thousand dollars more, but I
didn't want to get mixed up in it.

PLAYBOY: Even so, it seems to us that the
royalties would have been enormous.
GLEASON: No, rovalties don't mcan any-
thing. For instance, Audrey may get five or
ten dollars every time an episode
someplace. It doesn’t add up to any
of really big money
PLAYBOY: Audrey, in fact, was the only cast
member who had a royalty clause written

into her contract. That probably had
something to do with the fact that her
brother was a lawyer.
GLEASON: Yeah, 1 think he was, and that
was one of the demands that they made. I
said, “Go ahead and give it to them." It
didn't hurt me; itonly hurt somebody who
bought the films and had to pay out. So I
was delighted for her. And, fortunately,
she doesn’t need the moncy— which is
usually the way.

PLAYBOY: The recently discovered “lost
episodes” that Showtime has becn runm-
ning, of course, were never really lost, The
question is, Had you known all along that
you were sitting on a gold mine?
GLEASON: It never occurred to me. Some-
body asked if I might have any of the
scopes of the sketches from the variety
shows we did on the DuMont network
and, afterward, on CBS. I said, “Yeah,
we've got a bundle of them in an air
conditioned vault in Miami,” and that’s
when we started. 1 had been getting
annoyed paying the air-conditioning bills,
anyway. Many times, I said, "Either
throw them away or sell them!”

PLAYBOY: You'd never looked at the kinc-
scopes over the years?

GLEASON: No, but we watch them now on
Showtime at home. Some of them are
good, especially when Carney does some-
thing crazy. I look at myself and, since
they span several ycars, one minute |
weigh four pounds, the next I weigh 300.
PLAYBOY: Incidentally, The Flintstones, as
you know, was the blatant cartoon version.
of The Honeymooners. What did you think.
of the replicating job?

GLEASON: We thought of suing them. But I
said, “Oh, shit, let's not go through that.”
We've never done anything about it. It's a
good show. In fact, that guy who did
Fred's voice dubbed in things for me in
motion pictures, whenever they were loop-
ing and I couldn't make the session. I for-
get what the hell his name was [Alan
Reed]. Nice guy.

PLAYBOY: You talk of money in terms of
money and big money. Therefore, we'd be
remiss if we didn't touch on your notorious
big spending. In retrospect, are fools and
their money soon parted?

GLEASON: I’ve said it before: The best
thing you can do with money is spend it.
You can't sit on it, you can't throw your
arms around it, you can't kiss it. For peo-
ple to make money and put it away with-
ош ever spending any of it—I can't think
of anything sillier! Do it while you can
enjoy it. Is like the guy who could never
afford a steak until he had no teeth to
chew it.

PLAYBOY: Do you know your net worth?
GLEASON: І don't really want to know. ГЇЇ
have Mare call up and find out what it is
every once in a while. At this stage of the
game, when you're spending money, you'd
better make sure you've got it!

PLAYBOY: As long as you aren't going to di-
vulge your own numbers here, maybe
you'll talk more freely about Bob Hope's.

GLEASON: Hope is gorgeous! I drive him
crazy. For instance, we did a show in New
York a while back and hc id to. me
beforehand, “For Christ's sake, during this
interview, don't start that shit about me
having $150,000,000." So as soon as the
interview started, I said, “Tell "em about
the $150,000,000 you got!”

PLAYBOY: You've won a few bucks from him.
on the golf course, haven't you?

GLEASON: Mm-hmmm. He's not cheap,
you know, but he's tough to pay off. When
we play, I call a guy out of the crowd and,
before each hole, 1 have him take my $100
and Bob's $100 until we've finished the
hole. I tell the guy to give the $200 to who-
ever wins. We do that cach hole. Yeah, Гус
got a lot of Hope's money. And it's all
new. It's never even been folded.

PLAYBOY: Bob Hop: tthe only big name
ith whom you've palled around. Tell us
about John Wayne.

GLEASON: Duke and I got loaded many a
time, but the best time was at Toots Shor's
anniversary dinner. They had this big
spread —where the hell was it?—at the
Waldorf or something. Duke and I were on
the dais, sitting next to cach other. The
speeches were going on, and they were all
saying how beautiful Toots was. So Wayne
said to me, “Is ‘Toots really that great?” I
said, “No chance.” He said, “Well, what
аге you going to say about him?" I said,
“When it comes time, you'll hear.”

So Duke got up before me and said what
a great guy Toots was. Then it was my
turn; they’d held me for the last, because
they knew ] was always kidding. 1 got up
and said some of the most horrible things
about Toots ever. I said he was in love
with Sunset Carson’s horse, for starters,
and I don't remember what else. When I
went back, Duke said, “You did it, you son
of a bitch!” Then we started to go at it.
PLAYBOY: For the benefit of those of us who
weren't around during those halcyon
ycars, perhaps you could fill us in on just
who or what Toots Shor was.
GLEASON: Well, Toots was a very gruff
guy—gruff because he wanted to hide his
sentimentality. He was big and fat, and
he'd call you a stewed bum or a crumb
bum, then ignore you in his restaurant.
Later, though, he'd come over and sit with
you. I told him one time that the best thing
you could say for his food was that it was
warm.

But he was very generous. He gave
money to guys who were broke or in trou-
ble. As a matter of fact, he gave me money
many times. I called him once from Phila-
delphia and said, “Send me $2000." He
said, “Well, what do you want it for?” I
If you're going to get nosy, | won't
He gave it to me. That's the kind
of relationship we had. He was a good
friend and a good drinker. He was the
friend of Presidents—Truman, Roosevelt,
all of them.

PLAYBOY: What kind of drinker was Hum-
phrey Bogart?
GLEASON: Bogart got drunk on the fii

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drink. And he stayed that way, never got
any drunker. We'd go to “21” and, as soon
as they saw him come in, they'd groan a
little bit. He had his own table there, with
a sign on it that said wocart. Wed sit
down and start drinking. I kncw when he
was loaded, because he'd say, "Let's go
When he said that, I knew

somcwhe

k the first time Sinatra
ever got loaded was with me. We went to a
joint called the Harlequin, and Si
said, “I feel like getting smashed.
“All right.” He said, “Now, what's a good
drink?" I said, "You've never gotten
smashed?” He said no. I said, “Jack Dan-
iel’s! That's a good way to start." And, to
this day, he drinks Jack Daniel's. I un-
derstand Frank does an hour and a half at
parties with stories about the two of us.
PLAYBOY: Mickey Mantle?

GLEASON: Mickey Mantle was great. He
liked to drink, but he didn't get sloppy-
Neither did Joc DiMaggio; DiMaggio
could drink bloody marys for a whole
weekend without getting stiff. And Don
Amcche was one of the great drinkers of all
time. Hed com
lar and tie and the perfect suit. He'd sit
down at 11 o'clock and drink until two in
the morning, when he'd get up with the
same crisply starched collar

PLAYBOY: That hard-drinking era is gone
forever, isn't it?

in with the starched col-

GLEASON: Yeah, those were easy, generous
days. There's too much jealousy now, too
much worrying about making moncy. In
those days, [ was signing tabs and I had
no money. A lot of guys didn’t have money
to keep spending on booze all the time.
But now, a lot of people are running
scared, and I think it's because they don’t
have talent. Guys like DiMaggio, they had
talent. Nothing frightened them, and they
could enjoy themselves, knowing that their
enjoyment wouldn't affect their business
But nowadays, people are very circum-
spect about having fun. You never see any-
body out getting loaded anymore. Back
then, c jody was out chasing stuff
PLAYBOY: At your peak, how much booze
could vou put away?

GLEASON: Drinking depends on your
mood. If you're fecling fine, you can drink
gallons. But if you're in a bad mood,
you've got to stay away from boozc. After
the first few shots, you're gone.

PLAYBOY: You once said, “I’m not an
alcoholic; Um a drunkard.” Is there really
a dillerence?

GLEASON: Yeah. By drunkard, I meant
drinker, because anyone who's a drinker
gets drunk. There's no doubt about that
At the time, I think I said that drinking
removes warts—not from me but from
whomever Pm with. But the distinction
was that I drank a lot but could still mem-
orize 60 sides of script when it came post
time and never missed a show. And 1

worked week alter weck, so I must've
known how to control it.
PLAYBOY; How bad was your worst hang-
over?
GLEASON: There are different classifica-
tions of hangovers. Onc is called the chuck
horrors, which is when you figure that be-
cause you didn't cat the night before, you
should make up for it the morning after. So
you order some Chinese food or spaghetti
for breakfast. Then there are the jingles,
where you walk up and down the office,
jingling coins or keys in your pocket. And
then there’s the oh-God-wha
last-night? classification, which is fr
ful. Unfortunately, I remembered every
damned thing.
PLAYBOY: You must at lcast have come
away with irrefutable, expert advice on
hangover cures.
GLEASON: [With the Gleason swagger]
You're coming to the font! Everybody |
knew had one, When Toots had a hang-
over, the first thing he did was cat a whole
bow! of peanuts and then have about five
Cokes. You knew then that he had a real
Olympic winner going

The only thing that will straighten you
out—and you have toh great control—
is a couple of drinks. That will stick, but
then you begin to feel good and say, “Je-
sus, I tl PIL have some more. Y
"That's when you've just got to stop.
PLAYBOY: Collec never worked for you?
GLEASON: Coffee only makes you more

PLAYBOY

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nervous. When you have а hangover,
you've already got the shakes. The caffeine
in coffee only makes you bounce higher.
PLAYBOY: But you must have loved collec—
at least, it appeared that way. After all, on
the Jackie Gleason Show that was broadcast
from Florida in the mid-Sixties, you
always had one of your so-called Glea-
Girls bring you a cup on camera—and
everyone always wondered what was
that cup. Want to tell us?

GLEASON: Well, it was booze. [Smiles] 1
didn’t sec any reason to fake it. That
started one night when I told Greta—one
of the tall showgirls—to take a coffee cup
just before the show started, put it on the
end table near my chair and, in front of the
udience, pour out of a bottle of Scotch
into the cup. So the audience was watch-
ing this; then the show started. 1 came out
and took a sip of the booze, And it worked.
because the audience was in on the joke.
PLAYBOY: Docs Scotch taste better in por-
celain?

GLEASON: І got used to drinking it that way
when Га go to after-hours joints that
weren't supposed to sell liquor. The idea
in those places was that if cops came by—
and, of course, they were paid off —they'd
look around and say aloud to one another.
“Say, Al, they're just drinking coffee."
PLAYBOY: So you and the Glea-Girls were
simply playing out a variation on an old

theme. How did the Glea-Girls come
qi

about, anyw:
GLEASON: The sponsors were so damn
cager to have their products shown with
signs and logos. | said, "You can't do a
show holding up signs; let's get some
beautiful broads and let them say what the
signs would." It was sure a hell of a lot
more entertaining. They were awful good.
PLAYBOY: Were there any specific qualifica-
tions required of the Glea-Girls?
GLEASON: That they look good on televi-
sion. A lot of pretty girls didn’t look good
on camera. But there were certain girls
who had features that attracted the cam-
era. [Winks] And, ifthey could speak. . . .
PLAYBOY: Girls were an important ing
ent of your variety shows, What was the
most enlightening way to appreciate the
June Taylor dancers?

GLEASON: [Devilishly] You're talking, no
doubt, about the overhead camera angle?
June had as much to do with that as I did.
With 16 dancers on a small screen, you've
gotta do some fluky things to make it look
interesting. From the start, I wanted 16
girls, and everybody thought I was crazy
But I knew that the sight of 16 girls on a
stage, when those curtains opened and you
saw all this flesh, would give you a lift.
PLAYBOY: Did you appreciate any of them
ndividually?

GLEASON: [Looks obediently at his wife, the
former Marilyn Taylor, June's sister, with a
smile] There was only oi
PLAYBOY: According to our research, you
had a special weakness for chorus girls.
You've married two, after all.

GLEASON: Oh, Гус known a lot of chorus

girls. People think that chorus girls are
loose women. "They're far from it. First of
all, they're very, very attractive. They
have their pick of whomever they want to
go to dinner with. And they're not push-
overs or casy dames, Most of them are
pretty intelligent. No, 1 had a weakness for
all girls—as long as they combed their hair.
PLAYBOY: Which perhaps explains your
three marriages. Your first marriage, to
Genevieve Halford. spanned 34 years, dur-
ing most of which you were legally sepa-
rated. You've blamed yourself for its
failure. Why?

GLEASON: My style of life was completely
different from hers. She couldn't under-
stand that. She thought that the value of
my life wasn’t high enough; that if all I
thought about was having fun, it wasn’t
enough. And she was right. Life should be
ofa higher quality and reach a higher goal
of morality. But I wasn't interested, I was
interested in having fun.

Not that 1 was wrong in wishing to have
fun. The problem was that she didn’t want
to have the kind of fun I was having. She
didn’t like to sit around, drinking with the
guys. And she was right in thinking that
PLAYBOY: Your indiscretions during that
marriage were reported like box scores in
the press. That couldn't have helped.
GIEASON: Oh, they were always writing
about me, saying that I was with this girl
nd I probably was. I had them
out to dinner or dancing at night clubs.

your having exactly that reputation.
GLEASON: Well, you never try to buck leg-
ends. Thats an impossibility. You let
them go and they finally dic out. But the
more you deny a legend, the healthier it
gets. Remember, I was in a particular
branch of show business where we were
surrounded by beautiful women. Hun-
dreds of them. So, naturally, you'd have to
speak to one or two. And that would be
enough to get you into any colum
PLAYBOY: Onc of your former flames said
publicly that you're “casy to fall in love
with." Do you think that's truc?
GIEASON: Not being a broad, I don't know
what to say lo that.

PLAYBOY: In 1970, almost immediately
after Genevieve had granted you a divo:
you married Beverly McKittrick, onc of
your neighbors in Miami. Th; i
fell apart quickly and made for a very
messy, public divorce. What unraveled it?
GLEASON: It was another mistake. [t
wasn't right. Marriages don't unravel
they bump and come apart. She, agai
didn't like my friends and didn't undei
stand show business. She was a very nice
woman, but we weren't in the same field.
PLAYBOY: In the press, she was very hostile.
over the spli
GLEASON: Well, what would you do if you
were a woman married to a wealth
and a divorce was coming up? You'd w;
to get some of the money. And how are

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PLAYBOY

gonna get it? You think you're gonna
frighten the guy. / didn't frighten. She
tried, but she t get anywhere. Any
woman would do that.

PLAYBOY: People who know you best have
said that Marilyn has cxercised a mellow
ing effect over you in the past ten years.
Whats her secret?

GLEASON: Oh, absolutely, she has! Her se-
cret is that I love her. And thats very
important. Sometimes there is a pseudo
attitude that looks like, sounds like and
feels like love, but it isn't. And that's when
you realize that a mistake's been made.
Marilyn and I wanted to get married
30-some years ago, but we couldn't 1
couldn't get a divorce from Gen, though
we were separated, legally separated. The
difference was, Marc and I went to night
clubs, and we'd socialize with people. We
had similar interests. So we were compat
ble not only socially but professionally.
PLAYBOY: It must be difficult for any
woman to deal with the adulation you've
received from the earliest days of your
career. Didn't you once say that you
moved The Jackie Gleason Show from New
York to Florida for that reason—to escape
the constant adulation?

GLEASON: No, the reason for the moye was
simple: I wanted to play golf. The truth is,
when I got to Florida, the superlatives
really began to fly. I'd walk into a res-
taurant and everybody’d stand up to ap-
plaud. At the height of my popularity
down there, they were calling me the
emperor of Florida. One time, not long
after we got down there, people
approached me to run for governor. At
first, I thought they were putting me on.
Then, when I saw they were serious, I
said, “You've got to be a bunch of idiots!”
PLAYBOY: You became the state's leading.
tourist attraction almost immediately
upon your arrival there. How did you di
cover the Big Grapefruit?

GLEASON: I used to go to Palm Beach on
my vacations, and I told Jack Philbin, my
producer, that moving the show would be
a beautiful way to get the hell down there
to play golf every day. Philbin, by the way,
was the first one ever to get me on a golf
course. Funny thing, we were walking
down the very first fairway—this is my
first time out—and I fell, spraining my
ankle. I said to Philbin, “You and your
fuckin’ golf!”
s before we moved down there,
S that I didn’t want to do the
ymore. 1 was out in California,
g a picture. They wanted me back
for the fall season, and 1 did everything to
discourage them. I told them I'd do it only
if I got my own train to take me back
across the country, stopping off at big
towns along the way to get publicity and
ending up in New York. Naturally, they
gave in. Pretty soon after that, they started.
talking about another season, and 1 said,
“Well, all right, but 1 gotta have another
train, and we're going down to Florida to
do the show."

PLAYBOY: And you proceeded to turn
Miami Beach into “the sun-and-fun capi-
tal of the world.”

GLEASON: We did very well in Florida. It
could have been a disaster moving every-
body from New York. If we hadn't clicked,
it would have been frightening. The net-
work was incredulous. They said we'd
ncver find lighting down there, but when
we pioncered the best color lighting in tele-
vision, they came in from California to see
how we did it. They said we wouldn't find
stagchands, but we found "em. They said
we wouldn't get scenery, but there were
plenty of great carpenters. It was a great
place to do a show. I don't know why more
people don't do 'em down there,

PLAYBOY: Onc show is doing quite well
down there—Miami Vice. Are you a fan?
GLEASON: [ saw it once, a repeat, and
thought it was fine. It’s strange, though,
that a city like Miami, in order to get pub-
licity, would accept a show like Miami
Vice. But as long as it gives 'em a
plug. ...

PLAYBOY: What do you make of the show's
fashion influence?

GLEASON: That's even stranger. The stuff
those guys wear—T-shirts underneath
jackets—was worn years ago. Bums
walked around like that. Come to think of
so did Ed Norton.

PLAYBOY: Which leads to another subject
on which you're particularly vocal: style.
Cary Grant has called you the most stylish
man in show business. Appearance, we
scnsc, is very important to you.

GLEASON: If you're dressed nicely, you're
obviously а man of some kind of sub-
stance. You have some taste. People who
dress well exude confidence. I'd rather
associate with someone neat and clean,
someone who looks good.

PLAYBOY: Thus, your decision to have some
facial nips and tucks done a few years ago.
You had your eyelids and chin fixed?
GLEASON: Yeah, well, my eyelids were cov-
ering my eyes, as they do with age, and it
was affecting my sight So I had them
taken up. And I got rid of the turkey neck.
If you're going to appear in front of the
public, you’ve gotta look as attractive as
you can.

PLAYBOY: Care to share some of your sarto-
rial pointers with us?

GLEASON: I happen to dress conserva-
tively. I usually have all my suits made in
London, at Kilgour and French, or in New
York, by Fioravanti, who's considered the
best tailor in town. When I’m dressed up,
I wear a white shirt with a white handker-
chief. 1 never wear colored shirts with
diflerent-colored handkerchiefs and ties.
Or the same-colored handkerchief and tie,
which is atrocious.

PLAYBOY: Your signature is the red-carna-
tion boutonniere in your lapel. When did
that start?

GLEASON: That came from Brooklyn. On
Mother's Day there, if your mother was
alive, you wore a pink carnation; ifshe had
passed away, you wore a white one. I

thought it looked real spiffy. But wearing a
pink one regularly, I thought, would have
been a little effeminate. And white cer-
tainly would be funercal. But red—that
comes through.
PLAYBOY: Back to Florida. In 1970. CBS.
pulled the plug on your show while it was
still getting excellent ratings. Weren't you,
in effect, the first performer ever to fall vic-
tim to demographics?
GLEASON: Опе of them. Red Skelton and I
were in the top 20 or 15 or somcthing.
Then CBS started this demographics
thing. They said we had a large audience,
but our people were too old and weren't
buying anything sponsors were selling. I
couldn't understand that. Neither could
Red. He normally won't get on the phone,
you know; he has a thing about it. But he
called me when they canceled us. His
opening line was very funny. He said,
“What the hell are demographics?" I said,
“I haven't the slightest idea."
PLAYBOY: For a long time, you had the net-
work on the defensive. Did you feel that
you were unbeatable?
GLEASON: Oh, no. You're unbeatable only
when you have clout. If you don't have
clout, you're as weak as anyone else. To
have clout, you have to be right. You can't
be wrong two or three times; then you're
dead. But it is enjoyable to swing your
weight around. It’s also very dangerous,
because when vou lose your clout, you are
in terrible straits. You only make yourself
more vulnerable. Ultimately, 1 lost my
clout due to the demographics. If we were
selling things, they never would've gotten
around us.
PLAYBOY: When you quit television, were
you sick of the grind or bitter because you
were canceled?
GLEASON: Oh, no, I really wasn't bitter; I
wanted to quit, anyway. We had gone from
1964 to 1970 in Florida, learning four
sketches a week, and it was enough. Then,
when we did the hourlong Honeymooners,
it was a Broadway musical every week.
You had to learn six, seven songs.
didn’t like to use cue cards or 1
PrompTers, it made for a pretty big strai
on everybody
PLAYBOY: Strain or not, we get the feeling
that you have an aversion to mundane
labor. Do you like to work?
GLEASON: No. Not unless it’s so ing in-
teresting. А lot of people say, “Well, 1 like
a challenge.” I don't like challenges. Life is
tough enough without any challenges.
PLAYBOY: There was onc infamous series
you did in the early Sixties that lost your
interest immediately and lasted one week.
You know the one we're talking about.
GLEASON: [Grins] The show was called
You're in the Picture, and it was horrible.
We had a screen painted with medieval
costumes, jockey costumes, whatever, and
above them there were holes through
which celebrities stuck their heads. We
had Buddy Hackett, Arthur Treacher,
Johnny Carson—oh, a bunch of them.
(continued on page 149)

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investigative report
By ROBERT SCHEER

how a group of zealots took aim at pornography
and ended up in a war against sex itself

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DOWN IN Arlington County, Virginia, the
lady dancers at what the locals call
“tittie bars” had best be wearing pastics,
or prosecutor Henry Hudson will bust
them. He once was quoted as saying, “I
live to put people in jail."

For the past six years, Hudson has also
been going after vidco stores and thrcat-
ening to shut them down for renting
movies depicting nonsimulated inter-
course. “Our squad has a reputa-
tion,” he has told me, “for checking
periodically in the stores, and the people
are careful about what they sell in the
county; yes, sir, they are. I don't apolo-
gize for that; Pm proud of that. We have
a good family community here."

That stand-up-to-porn spirit caught
the attention. of the President of the
United States, who commended Hudson.
for his actions and vowed to keep his eye
on the young prosecutor.

One day in the spring of 1986, I find
myself in Hudson's bailiwick in the
Arlington civic center, in a cubbyhole at
the end of a corridor decorated with
WANTED posters. Lam there because Hud-
son has now become a national figure as
the chairman of Attorney General Edwin
Meese's Commission on Pornography,

whose activities I am tracking for my
newspaper, the Los Angeles Times. We
are sitting in his cluttered office, discuss-
ing more variations on a single theme—
sexual conduct—than 1 have ever
discussed with anyone. The topics range
from the limits of anal sex to the many
varieties of sodomy. Hudson talks about
the proliferation of pornography and
how he sees it as his obligation to return
this country to the clean good old days.

I ask him, “By good old days, do you
mean when they banned James Joyce’s
Ulysses or the novels of Kurt Vonnegut,
Jr., and D. H. Lawrence, all of which
have been censored?”

“I can't say I’ve read or seen the items
in question,” says Hudson. “I don’t have
time to read books or go to the movies.”

“What is this thing called pornogra-
phy you're now investigating?” 1 ask

“Pornography, to a degree, is like the
word love; it means different things in
different contexts.”

“Great,” I observe, “but you're head
of a commission that wants to get rid of
it, so what is the i£?" Hudson then riffles
through the search warrants and
Miranda confessions in his briefcase but
can’t find the (continued on page 157)

ILLUSTRATION BY STEVE BROONER

роя & M M. —
—B О А Ts

it's anchors aweigh with playboy's ultimate floating fleet

Rail down, with battened hatches
and a tuck in the mainsail, a Swan 43
beats across the Gulf Stream, going
like a train and headed for a quiet
anchorage and cocktails in a Baha-
mian harbor. Now ‘we know what
they mean by rapture of the deep.

modern living

By REG POTTERTON

OME ARGUMENTS NEVER DIE; they
5 ust get louder and more
confusing—which is how it is with
boats, a subject of acute disagree-
ment between sailors ever since can-
vas gave way to the propellor. All
we care to say on the subject is that
anyone daft enough to insist that
power is better than sail or vice
sa stands as much chance of con-
incing a disbeliever as would a
man who insists that vanilla is bet-
ter than chocolate.

Accordingly, we've chosen five of
the very best in power and sail, with
the certain knowledge that many
people in the boating fraternity will
disagree with some of our choices
and nobody will agree with all of
them. We can hear it now: You left
out the Low Down Low Monthly
Occan Motion 35! And Fast Eddie's
No Cash No Splash Plastic Fantas-
tic Knotbuster, with the FM stereo

Hanging out on a Prindle 19 cat-
amaran (top left), our couple in
the flying trapezes shamelessly
exceeds the legal fun limit.
Left: The world's fastest hair
drier, a Donzi Classic 18, carries
precious cargo on a party-
bound mission at 60 miles per
hour. Yes, there's room for more
party mavens in the back seat.
Right: Miami's vice—and they
had fun, fun, fun till Customs
took their speedboat away.
Complete with a 38-color paint
job and a pair of 400-hp Mer-
Cruiser sterndrives, a Scarab
38 KV gets down to some serious
business. Hang on, Sloopy!

and dual speakers!

Well, so we did, but consider the
options in today's boat market: According
to the National Marine Manufacturers
Association, there are about 3700 boat
builders in the United States, thousands of
imports and almost 14,000,000 privately
owned boats. This includes boats with
outboards, inboards, inboard/outboards
(a.k.a. sterndrives), unpowered sailboats
of all sizes, houseboats, canoes and row-
boats. Last year alone, those boats gener-
ated a retail trade of some 2 billion
dollars in sales, service and maintenance.

In making our selection, westarted with
the questions that all prospective boat
buyers need to ask: What will the boat be
used for and where? To sail around the
world or on quiet inland waters? High-
speed offshore travel or gunkholing in a
quiet estuary? Cruising, racing or both?

Our choices, therefore, cover a wide
range of possibilities, from the Donzi Clas-
sic sport boat, for rapid transit on inland
waterways, to the Swan 43, which is built
for luxury, speed and distance—around
the planet, if that’s your ambition.

In all five selections, we were guided by
resale value as well as by quality, because
the resale factor—along with strength,
performance, function and comfort—is an
essential consideration in appraising a
boat for purchase. Always verify the pedi-
gree of designer and builder before whip-
ping out the checkbook; if possible, talk
with an owner—or three!

All five of our boats are fiberglass—not
that there's anything wrong with other
boat-building materials, such as wood,
steel, aluminum or ferro-cement; it’s just
that most new boats are made of fiber-
glass, and the stuff is strong and relatively
easy to maintain, paint and repair.

We took our small armada (except for
the Donzi, which was photographed in the
waters off south Miami) 55 miles across
the Gulf Stream to the island of Cat Cay,
the private paradise of the Gat Cay Club
and once a favored golfing venue for the
duke of Windsor. The membership, which
comes mainly from the U.S.A., South
America and Europe, currently numbers
about 260. For an initiation [ce of $7500
and annual dues of $2500—we said it was
private—those who are lucky enough to
pass this way enjoy golf, tennis, world-
class tournament fishing and the kind of

Right: An American beauty, the
Parkins H-28, lies at anchor in the
tranquil harbor of Cat Cay, Bahamas,
where aa g couple ponders the age-
old question: Whose turn to cook?

PHOTOGRAPHY BY CHRIS CUNNINGHAM

PLAYBOY

beaches found in travel brochures. You
can fly to Cat Cay on a seaplane of the
venerable Chalk Airline—67 years in the
aviation business—or you can do what
we did and go by sca. Which brings us to
our five selections.

PRINDLE 19

‘The Worrell 1000 is a race over a
1000-mile ocean course from Fort Lauder-
dale to Virginia Beach. This is an un-
forgiving stretch of water, notorious for
currents, gales, big seas and —even worse
from the racing sailors viewpoint—flat
calms and idless summer days. Until
last year, the only boats eligible for the
Worrcll were Hobie Cats; but in 1985, the
rules were changed to admit any sailboat
up to 20 fcct, prompting the race organizer
to observe, “The boat that wins the Wor-
rell this year will be the strongest, lightest
and fastest off-the-beach sailboat on the
market.” Of the 1 entries in the race, two
were Prindle 19s; and they came in first
and second, the winner finishing with a
five-hour lead.

Of course, not everyone wants to race—
and for those who don’t, the Prindle cata-
maran makes an excellent day sailer or, for
the adventurous, an inshore cruising boat.
All you need are a couple of slecping bags,
a tarp over the trampoline (or deck, if vou
prefer) and your favorite provisions. No
galley, no engine, no head, no complicat-
ed electronies—just pure boat, fast and
sturdy, with minimal costs in maintenance
and servic

The Prindle 19 was developed by three
of the top catamaran sailors in the country
and is built in
Lear Siegler Marine, builders of O'Dav,
Cal and Ranger boats. We borrowed our
model from Barrett & Sons Sailing Center,
Orlando, Florida, where the quoted price
is $5595, ready to sail.

DONZI GLASSIC 18

You can buy bigger, you can pay less,
but Donzi quality, toughness and perform-
ce have given this Bradenton, Florida,
n that’s hard to touch.
The Secret Service had a fleet of Donzis to
protect President Lyndon Johnson while
he cut up the waters on Lake L.B.J. The
Classic 18 is stylistically comparable to
early Corvettes and the MG lines from the
Fifties—in short, a beauty to look at and
sheer pleasure at the wheel. The model we
used, from Donzi in Lauderdale Lakes,
was brand-new and hadn’t been fully run
in, but we got 55 knots, plus, with another
ten or so in reserve. Powered by а
350-Magnum MerCruiser, with a deep V
hull for stability in building seas, the Clas-
sic 18 is a triple threat as sport boat, ski
boat and yacht tender, a boat for pure
exhilaration,

The hull is
mounts and t
standard equipment

id up by hand; engine
m tabs are through bolicd;
includes blower,

aluminum fuel tanks, through-hull ex-
haust, V.D.O. instruments (same as in
BMW, Mercedes-Benz and Rolls-Royce),
tonneau cover, adjustable bucket seats
and Icather-stitched steering wheel from
Momo, supplier to Ferrari, Porsche and
Lotus. The price, ready to run, is about
$27,500. Nice.

SCARAB 38KV

This is the boat that Crockett and
Tubbs drive in Miami Vice. Not a replica
but the real thing straight from the set,
complete with custom paint job that
blends 38 colors to produce a high-gloss
finish of turquoise, navy, green metal flake
and lavender. It’s a bit like Crockett’s
wardrobe, but louder.

This is not a boat for shy guys: It's a
high-performance ocean-going beast, 9100
pounds of drop-dead design powered by a
pair of 400-hp MerCruiser sterndrives.

At idle, it sounds like the wrath of
God—top speed of around 60 knots. Stand-
ard layout below includes a V-berth dou-
ble in a forward cabin and a main cabin
with a huge velour couch, a tiled entry, a
sterco with four speakers, a complete gal-
ley and head. On deck is heavy-duty
stainless-steel hardware, plus a full-
performance instrument panel, convert-
ible bolster seats for standing or sitting,
two hatches in the forward deck and an aft
bench seat. At cruising speed of around 40
knots, the twin Mercs burn about 30 gal-
lons an hour, which gives you about seven
hours of running before it's time to refuel.
Have a nice day. Retail prices from the
manufacturer, Wellcraft Marine, Sarasota,
Florida, start around $105,000 and peak
around $130,000.

нв

Тһе Н stands for Herreshoff, the great-
est name іп the history of American
sailing-yacht design. The founding father
was Nathaniel; L. Francis, his son, de-
signed the H-28 in 1942. A man of fixed
New England ideas about boats, sailing,
clothing and dict (he advised that all food
be well chewed), L. Francis knew exactly
the kind of boat he wanted:

“I can, or think I can, design a cabin
plan for H-28 for those who want to go
where the water is clean, the pine trees
green, the offshore breezes laden with
ozone and where breathing, living and
sailing are joys . . . a boat that can
quickly be gotten under way for a sail on a
summer evening, a boat that can ghost
along in light breezes as well as stand up to
anything she might get caught in.” And he
did, with the result that H-28s are found
around the world, many of them built by
the owners from the plans and instructions
drawn up by the old man 44 years ago.

L. Francis would probably have enjoyed
meeting David Parkins, who has built 20
H-28 hulls for owner completion and six
complete boats at Parkins Marine in Fort

Lauderdale. An experienced cruising
sailor himself and former chief engineer at
an aircraft-cquipment company, Parkins
built his first boat, an eight-foot dinghy,
when he was 12. The dimensions of the
Parkins H-28 differ only slightly from
those of the original, and it’s rigged as a
sloop (one mast) instead of a ketch (two
masts), as designed by L. F.H. Below.
as snug and as inviting as its predecessors,
and its joinery is probably even finer than
the rough-and-ready finishes sometimes
found in older models. The cabin floor
(properly known as the sole) is inch-thick
teak, and the panels, doors and trim are
mahogany, with lockers lined in aromatic
cedar. Six heavy bronze portholes, a for-
ward hatch and an after companionway
provide ample light and vent
bronze is also used on rudder fi
chain plates (those are the things that an-
chor the mast rigging to the hull i
the through-hull plumbing. Nothing but
the best materials go into these hand-built
yachts, each of which is finished to the
owner's specs. Full galley and head are
standard, clectronics are practical and
ruggcd and the engine is an 18-hp Yanmar
diesel with plenty of power for docking
and maneuvering and burns less than half
a gallon an hour at maximum revs, giving
around seven knots in ideal conditions.

The price of a Parkins H-28 v:
according to the owner's requirements in
the way of electronics options, but the
basic model, ready to sail, around
$75,000. Just add water and mix, and
old L.F.H. said, “You [will be] fort
against a world of war lords,
and fakers." And that’s what sailing is all
about.

aries.

SWAN 43

You've won the lottery, you want to buy
a yacht and you'd like one that’s capable
of taking you round the world in speed and
luxury. If you knew what you were doing,
you could choose a designer and a builder
needs as to hull
, deck and interior
fittings. Depending on your knowledge,
you'd end up with either a fine custom-
built one-off—which is what such boats
are usually known as—or the kind of
lawsuit that brings joy to the hearts of
lawyers. For those of us who don't kı
naval archil
the alternative is simple,
inevitable: Buy a Swan. You c
n that, certainly

not in the

iness. Over the past 20 years, the
Finnish company Nautor Swan has made
a global name for itself, one that few
production-boat builders have matched in
modern times for performance, strength
and quality in every inch of construction.
Stepping down the main companionway

(concluded on page 145)

A KIN NV
7 А

“When it sticks up like that, is it a stalactite or a stalagmite?”

N
AN

miss nielsen zooms to fame as stallone’s bride and “cobra” co-star

Kiss-kiss for o pair af slam-bang adventurers —Hollywood superstar Sylvester Stallone ond Danish supermodel Brigitte Niel-
sen seal it with o smaach lost December at their sumptuaus California wedding reception for a few hundred friends.

PHOTOGRAPHY BY RICHARD FEGLEY

gan ч
New York to wo
tember 1985 eravBo pictorial. `
Yes, she did drop off an 8x 10"
glossy at-his hotel—and that's
how Gite came, was seen by
and conquered Rambo himself.

something like spontaneous

combustion occurred at

their first meeting. Brigitte

soon became a more or

less permanent house guest
at Stallone's Pacific Palisades
estate, then signed for her sec-
ond movie role, as the Russian
wife of his formidable adver-
sary in Rocky IV. That, plus
Red Sonja, won her the 1985
Worst New Star citation from
The Golden Raspberry Award
Foundation, but the Razzies
had it all wrong. A more sea-
soned judge, Stallone offered
Brigitte a marriage proposal as
well as a contract to star oppo-
site him in Cobra. He calls his
glowing Gitte “the most unvain
beautiful woman I've ever
met... like a giant Afghan."

ortraying a top model in
Cobra ought to be a cinch
for Nielsen, a European
cover girl before Dino De
Laurentiis chose her to play
Red Sonja. What Dino saw is
what he got: a stunning film
presence. Cobra is Stallone's
nickname in the new movie
He's a big-city detective who
has to kill just about everybody
to save Brigitte for himself
Well, who can blame him?

rigitte Nielsen Stallone, at
the age of 23, has found
love, fame and fortu
beyond her fondest

a strange life,” says Gitte, who
avows she's slightly psychic
and believes her grandmother's
ghost watches over her. Stal-
lone, 40, has often discussed his
ambition to make a film about
the life of poet Edgar Allan Poe.
If he can wrest himself a
from the megabuck certain-
ties of Rambo and Rocky, Sly
may have found a face well qual
fied to express the beauty and
mystery of Poe's Annabel Le

YIKES!

BUSINESS
SUPERSTARS!

EVERYWHERE YOU LOOK, THE DULL TOIL OF
COMMERCE IS BEING GIVEN A HIGH-GLOSS MAKE-OVER

essay

By LAURENCE SHAMES

USINESS 15 not rock "n' roll. Nor is it
Ве" warfare, Roller Derby,

cowboys and Indians or the Friday-
night fights.

Businessmen and businesswomen are
not gladiators. Nor are they conquista-
dors, ninjas, test pilots, Olympic pole
vaulters or movie stars,

Business is .. . well . . . business—that
necessary but generally routine set of ac-
tivities that most of us perform in order to
pay our rent, buy eggs and cheese and stay
out of trouble between breakfast and
happy hour. And business people—which
is to say, most people—tend to be regular
folks, with the standard mixture of brains
and limitations, daydreams and terrors,
quirks, pettinesses, humor and dread. Free
enterprise—the construct itself and the
people who keep it going—is actual size.

Now, I realize that all of that is pretty
elementary, even self-evident. And I say it
only because there seems to be a move-
ment afoot to deny it, to inject America’s
sagging business fortunes with the silicone
of myth, so that mere functions are por-
trayed as high adventures, the gray proc-
esses of commerce are passed off as
invigorating quests and business suc-
cess—an equivocal goal that has histori-
cally held its share of squalor, bitterness
and suicides, as well as the recent Wall
Streeters’ trinity of bimbos, limos and

lines—is held up as a grail. From King
Arthur to the ale man, our communal leg-
ends are being conscripted into the service
of the business rah-rahs. We've got num-
ber crunchers out there talking about the
right stuff. the accountant as astronaut.
We've got ad execs talking about swinging
from the heels for the new dog-food
launch; the middle manager as cleanup
man in the batting order of industry.
What is going on is a national campaign
to kid ourselves into thinking that business
is more dramatic, more heroic and just
plain more interesting than it almost al-
ways is; and, as usual, the media are in the
vanguard of the bamboozling. Looked at a
magazine rack lately? Maybe you’ve seen
a glossy rag called Manhattan, inc., the
fashion magazine about money, whose
stock in trade is the celebrity tycoon,
preferably under 40, and which fawns so
cravenly on business overachievers that
last year it saw fit to devote nine pages to
Donald Trump's utterly inscrutable views
on world peace. For the silver-haired set,
there's M, which addresses itself to the
stickv problem of satisfying people's medi-
eval hankering for aristocracy in a country
whose first premise is that there shall
be no aristocracy. The M solution harks
back to Calvin: 55-year-old C.E.O.s,
having proved their preferred status in
the eyes of (concluded on page 156)

ILLUSTRATIONS BY KEITH HARING

atii М] =

\
wees

*
8
AS T ut.

УК AM Y >

الف

ERCELLEMGE
SAVES!

THE GOSPEL

ACCORDING TO

TOM PETERS

IN THE BEGINNING WAS THE WORD, AND IT WAS GOOD.
BUT WAS IT ACCURATE?

article
By LOUISE BERNIKOW

ERCEPTION," Tom Peters is fond of say-
Ps “is all there is." He is usually

leaning on a podium when he says
this, midway through one of his almost
daily appearances before business groups
around the country. He is standing in front
of several hundred people, some trying not
to make noise with their after-lunch coffee
cups, others sitting at attention with writ-
ing pads in front of them, as though they
were in school. The room is often huge,
with massive chandeliers and Oriental
carpets, a setting more appropriate to
Diana Ross in sequins than to Tom Peters
in a blue blazer. After he says, “Perception
is all there is,” he generally looks down at
the floor and shakes his head, looking very
sorry about the whole thing. “There ain't
no such thing as steak, sad to say,” he
almost whispers, “just the sizzle.”

Tom Peters is very good at marketing.
In addition to making the word excellence
a banal din in our dai vocabulary, he has
made himself a mil
over. In Search of Excellence, written with
Robert Waterman, Jr., is the best-se
business book in history— 5,000,000 cop-
ies sold world-wide. A Passion for Excel-
lence, written with Nancy Austin, sold
more than 500,000 copies in hardcover
and a paperback edition will be out this
fall. Peters” share of royalties and sub-
sidiary rights runs into the millions. But
the books are only the beginning, Nearly
200 speaking engagements a year net
about $1,500,000, plus expenses. (He

sometimes lectures free to women's groups
and to "the few dozen people who were
good to me before 1 got outrageously
expensive") Skunk Camp, a four-day
seminar given in Monterey, California, six
times a year, attracts 40 executives at a
clip, each willing to pay $4000 to learn the
lessons of excellence. You can license a
video-tape package for $13,500; you can
buy The Excellence Challenge audio tapes
for $49.95; you can put a leather-bound
Year of Excellence diary on your desk for
$25. You can run Peters’ software on your
computer and, soon, watch one of his three
new television projects.

Yet the atmosphere that surrounds him,
the things he feels compelled to talk about
and the reactions of people who listen are
couched not in marketing terms but in
theological ones. He is a man perpetually
on a crusade. "In my own half-assed
way,” he says, “I'm preaching to the con-
verted. I'm essentially here to talk to the
seven percent who already believe.”

"The crusade hinges on his exhortation
that "American industry is headed down-
hill. We're headed for disaster, because
we're managing badly. We've got to regen-
erate ourselves." Those who see him as an
angel think of Gabriel, God's messenger.
“The Word,” as Peters tells it, is that our
economic life is hopelessly paralyzed by
“sinners,” out-of-touch managers who
"treat people like shit" and others who
hide in fancy offices and fire off memos.
These sinners (continued on page 152)

PHOTOGRAPHY BY RICHARD IZUI

how today's highfliers take
the ravel out of travel

TRAVEL
TIPS
OF THE
RICH

FAMOUS

modern living

By RICHARD and JOYCE WOLKOMIR

EXCEPT FOR THE ROSES in their suites, the
chauffeured limousines and the TV news
crews that greet them, celebrities travel
much as the rest of us do, only more fre-
quendy. To find out just what they've
learned about getting away to it all, we
asked a number of well-known globe-
trotters, from Famous Amos cookie king
Wally Amos to novelist John Updike, to
tell us their favorite techniques for making
life on the run less than total tedium
Wally Amos: “I always travel with bags of
my Famous Amos cookies for the flight
crew. I wear really comfortable jeans. And
I give all my (continued on page 129)

AN
ELEMENT

charley thinks he's smart enough to punch my ticket.
but there ain't too many people smarter than me

fiction BY WARREN MURPHY

“ISTHIS Alex Garth?”

“No, moron. It’s Bonnie
Prince Charley. I always stay at
the Budget Six Motel when I'm
in Boston. Who is this?”

“That's one thing I
about you, Garth. You've g
sense of humor."

“Shrinking by the minute.
Who is this?"

“Who's not important.”

“Just what I was thinking,”
I said and hung up the tele-
phone. It started ringing again
while 1 was walking into the
dingy little motel bathroom. 1
took my time. I wiped my
hands on my pants. It was still
ringing when I came back out,
so I picked it up.

“You've got
onds,” I said.
“That's another thing I like
about you, Garth. You've got a
lovely temper.”

“Fifteen seconds and count-
ing.”

“All right,” he said
“They're going to punch your
ticket when you get back to
New York.”

“Who's they?"

“Some of the people you
work for. Something about
some snow that stuck to your
shovel.”

“I don't know what you're

twenty sec-

talking about,” I said.

“Suit yourself, pal. 1 was just
trying to do you a favor. Forget
it
“Hold on," I said. 1 paused
for a moment, then figured,
What the hell. "This hit.
Who's supposed to do it?”

“Charley Cletis.”

“You know when?”

“When you get back. This

weekend. 1 don't know
exactly.”
“Why are you telling me

this?” I asked him.

“You did me a favor once.
Now we're even.”

“Who is this?" I said.

“Sorry. Your twenty seconds
is up."

Click.

I put the phone down and
plopped back on the unmade
bed

I did him a favor once? That
just didn't ring true. I couldn't
remember ever doing anybody
a favor. Not when I was a cop
in New York. Not when I was
trying to make a living off
that crummy private-detective
agency. Especially not since I'd
been taking a lot of money to
kill a lot of people

Who had called? That was
the only puzzle. The rest of it
(continued on page 136)

was

OF
SURPRISE

ILLUSTRATION BY ANORZEJ OUDZINSKI

> ы
AV

GALORE

IT TAKES A LITTLE EXTRA TO LIVE UP
TO A NAME LIKE MISS AUGUST'S

Our opening spread finds
Ava at the Palladium in
New York; here, bicoastal
Ava paints N.Y. green
(left, at Art Wave in the
Unique Clothing Ware-
house) and dazzles the folks
on L.A.'s beaches (right).

ONIGHT ıs Ava Fabi-

an's birthday, and she

hasn’t slept for two

days. If she'd been
back in Manhattan, her old
stomping ground, she would
have celebrated at the Palla-
dium. Now that she has
moved West, she gyres the
nightaway at Tramps, a Los
Angeles dance club that
closes too early, at least for
her. At two 4M— just when
Ava is breathing the last of
her first wind—the club
holds last call for margari-
tas. Show's over, folks. The
dynamite Italian girl retires
with her friends for further
partying. The spectators at
Tramps wish they could see
her second wind.

Named for Ava Gardner,
whom she resembles as
much as Dad must have
hoped she would, A
spends the night of her
birthday dancing off some of
the energy that she thinks
will make her one of Holly-
wood's irresistible objects.
Don't bet against her.

Seventeen years ago, Ava
told her first-grade class
that she wanted to be a
Playboy Bunny. The princi-
pal wondered what was
going on in the Fabian
household, but little Av
was on the level. Her dad
had a gold Playboy Club
Key and used it when he
wasn't helping run Joe Na-
math’s ill-fated New Y
saloon, Bachelors Ш. He
liked Bunnies, hung around
Joe and knew a cute girl
when he saw onc. So did
Ava. Looking in the mir-
ror, she fancied herself on

Ava's dream date is “a
roller-coaster ride at an
amusement park—that
gets you close. Then a
quiet, candlelit dinner with
lots of champagne. And
then? Maybe we take a
roller-coaster ride in bed.”

Broadway Joe’s arm. “It
broke my heart when Joe
got married,” Ava says.

Poppa Fabian thought his
tomboy had what it took
for Bunnyhood, and Ava’s
course was set. Although
she never actually worked
as a Bunny, she was named
Most Beautiful and Best
Body in her high school
class. Later, she did some
modeling, “just so I could
pay my rent in New York
City. І modeled fur coats for
the JC Penney catalog. It
was in the summer, about
95 degrees, and under the
coats—naked. I don’t know
about the other girls, but I
was.” She went on to study
dance and theater in the Big
Apple and eventually, like
many aspiring actres
ended up in Southern Cal
fornia, where she got an
agent. Early this year, look-
ing for something to read
in her agents home, she
picked up a copy of “one of
those really dirty girlie mag-
azines.” She nearly retched
when the agent asked if
she'd ever pose for it but
said she'd always had this
thing about PLAYBOY. . .

“I knew you'd do that,”
her mother said a few weeks
later, when Ava told her
who was вой
August 1986.
put that in your brain when
you were a kid.”

Thanks, Dad.

A New Yorker in Holly-
wood, Ava misses taxicabs
and night clubs that stay
open late, but she knows
that L.A. is the place for
an actress on the cusp of

“Т wouldn't force myself on
anybody, but if I liked a man
who was shy, I might be-
come aggressive: loosen his
tie, let him relax. Га take
some things off—slouly.
Then, lights out. Wed still
be at it 24 hours later.”

success. “I'm strong, I'm a
survivor and I have a very
good agent,” she says.
"You're going to be seeing
me in the movies.”

If you get cable, you have
already seen heron VH-1 or

in Olivia Newton-
John and David Foster's
video The Best of Me. Livy
gets the guy, but Ava, Fos-
ter’s fantasy girl, makes а
fantastic impression.

“I'm a New York girl and
I miss my Sabrett's hot
dogs," she says, “but there's
a lot to do out here, money
to be made, and I want
some. I want good movie
roles; I want the ranch, the
boat and the private jet. I'll
work for them.”

She calls herself “a big
ham” and admits that she
sizzled during the shooting
of her Playmate picto
"Arny Freytag and [make-
up artist] Clint Wheat made
me lock beautiful, threw me
on the couch and, yeah, 1
felt real sexy," says Miss

in front of millions of people
was an experience I'd been
thinking about. I felt sexy
and I wanted to share it."
Beautiful, talented and
real sexy, Ava can't be cer-
tain she'll succeed in the
business that made her
namesake famous. But she
won't rest until she finds out.

PHOTOGRAPHY
BY ARNY FREYTAG
AND RICHARD FEGLEY

BUST: 36 WAIST: „Zu

xem. 4 1" WEIGHT:

BIRTH DATE:

AMBITIONS:

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ПЕЙ.

PLAYBOY'S PARTY JOKES

When his wifes snoring woke him for the third
straight night, Henry went into the bathroom,
got some aspirin and popped two tablets into her
gaping mouth.

“Awk, glub! choked his startled wife. “What

ned?”

gave you some aspirin.
“Why? I don't have a headache.”

“Great!” Henry said, chuckling triumphantly.
“Let's screw.

hap

Man, my kid's got girls hangin’ all over him,”

the construction worker boasted to his buddy on

- “I don’t know how he has the energy.

“Th y say a guy hits his sexual peak at seven-
know,” came the reply.

the worker sighed. “And to think

mine slipped right through my fingers.”

los just too hot to wear clothes today," the
man said, emerging from the shower. “Honey,
what do you think the neighbors would say if 1
mowed the lawn like d

“Probably that I married you for your
money.”

After spending a pleasant first morning in
heaven walking through the clouds, the new
arrival headed over to the cafeteria for lunch. He
was surprised to find an enormous line stretching
for blocks from the front door, but he dutifully
took a place at the end of the line.

Fifteen minutes later, a tall old man with a
large staff walked to the head of the line and was
admitted at thc cafeteria door.

" grumbled the newcomer to the man
с, “how docs that guy rate?”

“Oh, that’s Saint Jerome,” the man replied.
“He's a patriarch, you know.”

Half an hour later, a dark-haired man carry-
stone tablets walked to the front and was
admitted.

“Who was tha?”

“That was Moses,” the experienced man an-
swered. “The lawgiver.”

Finally, a short, gray-haired man with a long
robe and a flowing beard made his way to the
front ofthe line and was admitted.

“And who was that?”

“That was God,” the man explained. “But He
thinks He's a doctor”

When an airplanc carrying Reagan, Gorbachev
and Marcos suddenly developed engine trouble
over the Pacific, a decision had to be made as to
who would get ıhe only available parachute.
Marcos suggested it be put to a democratic vote:
He won, 12-2.

The insurance salesman stopped at a singles bar,
ordered a drink and gazed around the room. He
noticed a young woman sitting alone at a nearby
table. Gathering his nerve, he approached her
and said, "Excuse me. I hope you don't think
I'm being forward, but I'm new in town and
don't know too many people. I was wondering if
1 could buy you a drink.”

The woman looked up and screamed, “Motel?
How dare you?”

As every head in the room turned, the em-
barrassed man slunk back to the bar and ordered
another drink.

Ten minutes later, the same woman came up
to him, smiled and said, “I'm sorry about what
happened before. I'm a graduate student in psy-
chology, and what I did was part of an experi-
ment in human social behavior.”

“Ah,” the man replicd, then suddenly
slammed his glass down on the bar, stood up and
screamed, “Seventy-five dollars? Are you out of
your mind?”

Look at this, Ralph,” George said, pas
folded newspaper to his friend on the bus
says there's some woman in Missouri with sixty-
nine kids.”

“Jeez. I wonder why she didn't go for an even
seventy,” Ralph said after skimming the article.

“Who knows?” George replied with an elab-
orate shrug. “Maybe she wanted a career, too.”

There's a new name for an old career-saving
method among corporate underlings—the
Hindlick maneuver.

Tired of their lack of spending money, the witless
brothers decided to find work. At the end of their
first day of work, they had earned a total of three
dollars. After they had spent hours considering
ways to enjoy their fortune, the older brother
decided to take the cash and go shopping. When he
returned, he proudly displayed a box of tampons.
“Gillie,” the younger brother asked in exasper-

ation, “what in blazes are we supposed to do
with that?”

“Look at the box, Buford,” his brother replied.
“It says right here you can go swimming, sailing,
horseback riding. . . .”

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

“You see, in my country, we never had Mother Goose stories.”

101

she was too beautiful not to be trouble

MEN COME UP TO HER, even when she's
with me, and say, "Wasn't that you at
The Bronco Saturday night?" Or lines
like, *Didn't I dance with you at The
Outrider? Didn't I see you before?
What was your name, sweet thing?"
She really turns heads. Men notice
Teresa. They remember her.

Guys say, “What's a knockout se-
norita like her doing with a skinny goat
roper like you?” Trying to pick a fight.
It's why Гуе always had to watch out.
Why I've always carried my pistol in

fiction By DAN THRAPP

the glove box of the truck, loaded. And
it's why I wonder what ГИ have to do
when The Spanish Inquisition comes to
town. The thing's not over yet, no mat-
ter what Teresa says.

Teresa is what's called Mex-mix or
mix-Mex. Half and half. Blue-black
hair that's down to her waist when she
lets it loose and great big, deep, dark-
brown eyes. Perfect complexion. Skin
like a polished peach. When I first saw
her, she was decked out like a cowgirl
in boots and a pair of jeans they

must've stitched with her already
inside.

It was down in Santa Cruz County,
where I grew up. It was a spot down
there called The Steak Out, one of
those saloons with bullet holes in the
roof for color; that's where we met. I
used to rodeo, and this was after the
rodeo, last fall. I'd lucked out and
taken a prize, and when I came in late,
first this giant ugly woman that bangs
out there hooks her arm through mine
and says. (continued on page 124)

SIGOURNEY WEAVER

america's favorite long drink of water defends her
inalienable right to spend more years living dangerously

Ш, lithe, patrician and great-looking,

Sigourney Weaver is a thinking man's
actor on both stage and screen. She's also not
above having a few laughs, whether 4 means
being possessed by Zuul the Gatekeeper in
“Ghostbusters” or being chased by an evil
extraterrestrial in “Alien.” Weaver had just
returned from nearly a year in Europe, untha
sassy new hairdo and three completed films
(including “Aliens”), when she met Contrib-
uting Editor David Rensin at a Viennese res-
taurant on New York's West Side. Afterward,
says Rensin, “She told newlywed stories. The
prognosis: So far, so good.”

тлүвоу: You've played bright, sensible,
forthright women. In Half Moon Street,
you play a woman who is a hooker on the
side. Was it good 10 be bad for a change?
wewer: Um always offered roles as
straightforward women with integrity-
Even as Lauren in Half Moon Street, Рт a
callgirl with integrity. [Laughs] But I have
more going on as an actor than I've been
able to show, and in Half Moon Street, I
could express something that was already
there—though I still have a long way to go
with that. None of the three films Гуе
done this year was particularly funny, but
humor is what I'm best at. The director
was a fairly serious person, and so it will
probably be a serious film. There aren't
too many callgirl jokes in it.

PLAYBOY: What's your characters ap:
proach to sex?

wewer: It’s interesting. She understands
quite clearly that sex is mental. Thats
why she doesn't get dolled up for her
dates. She just goes as herself. Sex is also
other things, though Ph.D.’s are probably
more mental than the rest of us. One of the
reasons Lauren is good at her job is that
she sizes up how to get to a person fast
Then she can arouse him mentally or
physically or emotionally, depending on
what she thinks would be successful.
Money just makes it more interesting for
her. If you have to fuck a lot of people you
don’t care about, at least it would help. I
certainly didn't find her a perverse charac-
ter in any way. If that means that I’m per-
verse, so be it

PLAYBOY: Are the required nude scenes
more or less of an issue to actresses these
days?

WEAVER: 1 had to do a nude scene in One

HAND COLORING BY MARIA KRAICIRDVIC

Woman or Two, the French film 1 made
with Gérard Depardieu. It now seems like
an invasion of those characters’ privacy.
In a comedy, you don’t want to go into the
bedroom with the characters. You want to
close the door and leave them to it. But one
of the reasons I did it was that it was the
last day of filming and | thought, Well, I
have w take off my clothes for the next
film, anyway. I would have thought more
about it. Nudity becomes a major issue
only when actors are asked to do some-
thing that they know is artistically stupid.
Also, a lot of women are misused in films.
You often see them nude, but not men—
unless it's a Richard Gere movie. [Laughs]
As for the idea of being naked in a film—as
an actor, you're naked anyway.

PLAYBOY: Is there an advantage for a lead-
ing lady in falling in love with her leading
man?

WEAVER: 1 make it very clear to my charac-
ter, inside me, that it's all right to fall head
over heels in love. I say to that part of
myself, “Go. Have fun.” But the line be-
tween character and reality never gets
blurred. I remember Depardieu said to me
in the first couple of days of our film,
“You're very much in love with your hus-
band. Good. I’m very much in love with
my wife. Now we can fall in love on screen.
We can really be with each other.”

PLAYBOY: What surpriscs you most about
marriage?
WEAVER: It’s a lot easier than I thought it
would be. I expected to have to tell myself
every day that I must be more unselfish. I
figured li alone had made me selfish.
But in my case, it the reverse. I could
really embrace the change, because I lived
alone longer. I also discovered that Jim
was, well . . . terrific. ТЇЇ probably get in
trouble, bragging in this interview, but
he’s so much fun. I knew this before mar-
riage, but when your schedules are diffi-
cult and you're under a lot of pressure, you
find out more quickly who people are.
He's an effortlessly good companion.

He's just always there. He never seems
to drop out. He's not a moody person at
all. It's fun.

PLAYBOY: You did a play called Beyond
Therapy, which was about two people who
found each other through personal ads in
The New York Review of Books. Belore she

got married, how might
er's ad have read?
ven: [Laughs] That's a wonderful ques-

gurney Weav-

: “Tall, shy brunette loaded with
degrees would like to meet smart, happı
go-lucky man . . . in his early 70s .

[Laughs] to skate with at Wollman Rink."

т.лувоу: Do you have а most treasured fan
letter from a famous person?

weaver: | remember something that’s
similar. I was having trouble getting into
Australia for The Year of Living Dangerous-
ly, so my agent had to write to about ten
directors to get their recommendations. I
never read them, but 1 know that people
such as Robert Altman and Woody Allen
and Bob Benton all sent telegrams saying
nice things. I’m sure they didn't spend a
lot of time thinking about it, but I was
very touched that they would take the time
to give me a recommendation.

pLavaov: What doesn’t the press under-
stand about actors?

WEAVER: We're all different. I read some-
thing once where Bill Hurt tried to explain
about being an artist and trying to remain
one. What I respect about Bill is that he's
not afraid to sound like an asshole when he
talks about these things. They're impor-
tant. It's what we're all feeling. Actors are
society's creatures. We try to pull some-
thing out of people's private places and
illuminate it. We're the fire bearers. Some
of the most intense affairs are between
actors and characters. There's a fire in the
human heart, and we jump into it with the
same obsession we have with our lovers.
Acting is not, as some think, an attempt
not to die. We don't judge it. We just cel-
ebrate it all

рілувоу: What qualities should the perfect
director have?

weaver: I don't think there is such a thing.
But a good director is someone who
chooses people who are good at what they
do and allows them to do it. Also, it’s nice
if a director is prepared. I was lucky this
year. 1 worked with three who had written
the scripts they were directing.

10.

PLAYBOY: You've spent time on a kibbutz.
Why?

weaver: I wanted to be Jewish. When 1
was in college, (concluded on page 132)

105

sometimes the god of golf smiles
on a guy just for the hell of it

R 0 CAES

AALTBIE
MAKES THE CUT

HERE ts an old man sitting on a fold-

ing chair behind the green on the

12th hole at Perdido Bay. His name

is Archie. He is wearing a plaid

shirt, buttoned at the neck and
wrists, and is absently holding a cigar
against the cuff of his pants. It is the sec-
ond day of the 1985 Pensacola Open, and
Archie is setting himself on fire.

The smoke rises in a path, following the
folds in the old man's pants and shirt, and
then flowers in front of his face, hanging
there motionless even as he speaks

“There's a lot of the females object to a
cigar now days,” he says, playing to all the
females in earshot, “but it's a sweet smell
to the initiated.”

A hundred and sixty yards away, a golf-
er named Roger Maltbie is standing beside
a pond, looking down into the water
at his golf ball. There are signs every-
where on the course that say, THE LAKES
CONTAIN WASH EM MEER ЕРЕЦ EXT. DO NOT ENTER.

There arc 14 other people s
the bank with him, all looking into the
pond, too. Fifteen disappointed people all
shake their heads at once. Everybody loves
Roger Maltbie.

This is the second time this afternoon
that Roger has put a ball into waste-water
effluent. He has also hit balls into trees
and sand traps and past thc security
guards—muscular, blonde girls, every one
of them with those collec-table legs,
like Mary Lou Retton's—and even into
the tall grass where small swamp animals
lic around in the afternoon, airing them-
selves out after they've emerged from the
wastc-water effluents.

I do not know if this is happening be-
cause Roger's wife has gone to Chicago for
a funeral, or (continued on page 110)

anding on

personality

By PETE DEXTER

106

SECRETS
OF
SUCCESSFUL

STYLE
JULIAN’S

lexander Julian's
belief that fashion is closer to comedy than
to drama sums up his easygoing, often
irreverent approach to clothes. Julian,
who grew up in the preppie environs of his
fathers C el Hill. North Carolina,
haberdashery, was “one of the weird kids
who liked clothes and getting dressed up."
Today, he heads a $300,000,000 men's-
fashion company, and nobody thinks that
he or his philosophy that “clothes don't
make the man, but they sure do make him
look better” is offbeat:

That statement, incidentally, is Julian at
his best. He has described his own “mod-
ern traditional" philosophy of design as a
freethinking approach to fabric and color
that lets the wearer enjoy the past without
forsaking the present. For example, in put-
ting together an outfit, Julian would "start
with a classic navy-blue blazer with thin
two-color stripes and team it with a blue
pinpoint-oxford shirt that has a subtle
overplaid, a bold paisley tie and gray-wool
herringbone-stripe slacks. The outfit is
classic, yet there's a modern twist to the
interplay of patterns. It shows that the
wearer has given some thought to his per-
sonal style.

When it comes to clothe:
that no one (concluded on page 145)

well-tailored advice
from
menswears foremost
freethinker

PHOTOGRAPHY BY JAMES IMBROGNO

PLAYBOY

110

ROGER MAL Ar Bi E (continued from page 106)

“He didn’t look like the golfers you see on TV; there is
nothing that makes you want to kill him.”

because his regular caddie is sick, or
because when Roger’s wife goes to Chi-
cago and his caddie is sick, he sometimes
goes out at night and drinks with the peo-
ple who love him.

And everybody loves Roger Maltbie.

“Golf,” Archie says, “is a tricky old
game.” And then, before I can stop him,
he tells me it’s a lot like life.

It is always somebody setting himself on
fire who wants to tell you the meaning of
life; have you noticed that?

On the other hand, how are you going to
argue that golf isn't a lot like life? I mean,
there are some of us who know what life is.
like, and some of us who know what hit-
ting a golf ball straight is like, but almost.
nobody who knows about life and hitting a
golf ball straight, too. Those things may
not be able to exist in the same body.

Which, as much as anything, I guess,
brings us to Roger Maltbie.

One day, while I was in the bathtub
having sexual intercourse with my wife—
actually, we were just at that place where
the girl says, “Wait, my leg . . .”—this
magazine called me on the telephone and
said it had a great idea.

“We want to find somebody frustrated,”
the magazine said. “A professional golfer,
somebody maybe in the top 100 in the
world at his sport, who lives on the fringe,
never really making it, struggling from
week to week to stay in the game.”

I said, “And you're going to call him up
while he's fucking his wife.”

“Is this a bad time?” the magazine
said.

Don't ever believe that shit that
PLAYBOY'S insensitive to modern woman's.
sexuality.

"Not at all,” I said. “I was just thinking
about golf myself.”

Which was when the missus got up out
of the bathtub and disappeared into the
bedroom, trailing little wet footprints that
would have broken your heart.

"Are you sure this isn't a bad time?" the
magazine said.

“To talk about golf?" I said. “There's
no such thing as a bad time to talk about
golf." Which is more or less the motto I
live by.

Somewhere in the house, the missus
turned on a hair drier; and while she did
that, the magazine and I agreed to find
somebody about three fourths fucked up
on the golf tour—who could never play as
well when it counted as he could when it
didn't, who was still out there chasing
something he could never catch—and use
him to show readers sitting abandoned in

bathtubs all over the world that they
aren't the only ones who can't get what
they want.

And so I called some people who follow
the game closer than I do—this includes
everybody in the United States and most
of Cuba—and laid out what I needed in
the way of a fuck-up. A golf writer who
was obviously trying to protect the game
told me there might be an interesting piece
instead in the fact that more and more golf-
ers are spending countless hours in the
gym, because touring pros have to be in
better condition than the public realizes.

Another golf writer told me about
Roger. He said, “There's this guy with a
funny name and a beer belly. He won a
tournament his first year on the tour, got
drunk and left the check in a bar some-
place near Boston, won another tourna-
ment the next year and then went into a
nine-year slump and didn't win again
until this year.”

Which sounded more like it.

Roger Maltbie. [ loved that name; I still
love it, even though now, looking back on
it, Га have to say that in a way, Roger has
let all of us sitting-in-a-bathtub-looking-
at-my-own-dick kind of guys down.

But I am getting ahead of myself. The
first sign that something was wrong with.
Roger showed up early, and I ignored it. A.
woman with an air of authority that exists
only in offices where nobody reads any-
thing but golf magazines told me that she
was not about to "turn over Roger Malt-
bie's phone number to just anybod:
said I would have to ask
all right to talk with him.

If the question of what a fringe profes-
sional golfer struggling from week to week
to stay alive on the tour was doing with an.
agent passed through my head, it didn't
stay long enough for me to notice it. This
man had gotten drunk and left his win-
ner's check in a bar, he was Roger Maltbie
and he'd gone stone-cold for a decade.

It took 11 days to get him on the phone.
Business deals, public appearances. When
1 finally caught up with him, he sounded
exactly like somebody who'd left a $40,000
check in a bar but not much like somebody
who'd been riding a losing streak for ten
years since.

So I laid out what I was after, and he
said he certainly knew something about
frustration and living on the edge: “Until
May [1985, when he won the Westchester
Open and $90,000], I was exactly what
you're talking about.”

And that didn’t warn me, either, not a
half second's worth.

I said, “Don't change; ГИ be out there
in three days."

And so I met Roger in a bar at the Hyatt
Hotel in San Jose, California. He had yel-
low hair and a tan, but he didn't look like
the golfers you see on television, which is
to say that there is nothing about Roger
that makes you want to kill him because
you know right away that nothing else is
ever going to go wrong in his life.

No, Roger looks like he's had his share
of things go wrong and like he's had his
share of things go right. And he looks like
sometimes when things went right, it was
for too long, and he had ended up feeling
wrong again in the morning.

I said, “You don't spend endless hours
in the gym because golfers have to be in
better condition than the public realizes,
do you?"

Roger lit a cigarette and pointed with
the two fingers holding it toward a window
across the room. “If I ran to that win-
dow,” he said, studying the distance, "if I
made it, you would hear a pitiful wheez-
ing. Why put everybody through that?"

I said, “I see life on the fringe of the
P.G.A., watching the Tom Watsons of this
world walk off with the 18-foot winners"
checks, hasn't turned you bitter."

He said, “Well, I'm not really doing too
bad this year...”

"You won a tournament in May,
right?"

“That one," he said, "and then the
World Series of Golf."

I said, “That’s sort of honorary, though.
I mean, you didn't get paid.”

He scratched his head. “A little more
than $120,000.”

So I excused myself from the table for a
minute and found a telephone and ex-
plained to pLaypoy that things had made
a left turn. “I thought you said he was a
fuck-up,” the magazine said.

I said, “What can I tell you? He fucked
that up, too.”

The numbers at the time, if you are
interested in numbers, read like this: It
was mid-August 1985, and Roger had won
$351,724. He was sixth on the P.G.A.
money list for the year—$10,000 shy of
being third—and he had just gone over
$1,000,000 in career earnings.

I went back to the table and asked him
to tell me something human.

“Three hundred and fifty-one thousand
dollars by August won't do it,” I said.

Roger thought it over. “I'm human,” he
said. “Гуе got the same feelings as every-
body else, but somehow I ended up with
golf. When I was a kid, I had a kind of epi-
lepsy. It wasn't fits, but sometimes there'd
be short periods of time when Га go off
somewhere else. That happens while
you're playing third base, it shows. With
golf, it didn't matter.

“That's how I got into it at first; now I

(continued on page 147)

a cartoonist gives new meaning to the concept of getting tanked

OME PEOPLE work out the accounting of their lives by
Ss stretching out on psychiatrists’ couches; some work off
excess guilt by jogging to a frenzy with their Walkmans;
and one brave soul we know lowers his body into a tepid tank of

water and shuts out the problematic world. Our bachelor Bruce
David lives in Los Angeles, where he cartoons his S.M.O.G. fea-

S.M.O.G.

HERE I AM FLOATING IN A SENSORY- DEPRIVATION
TANK, A PLACE DEVOID OF LIGHT AND SOUNI
DESIGNED TO UNLOCK THE INNER MIND. НЕ!
SHALL CONFRONT MY FEARS AND ES AS
THE ISOLATION INDUCES STRANI HYPNAGOGIC
HALLUCINATIONS THAT WILL REFLECT THE INNER
ME. THIS IS A JOURNEY OF SELF-AWARENESS.

wre for the L.A. Weekly, writes television comedy—including wo
episodes of Family Ties—carouses and allows his subconscious to
flourish and be inspired while he sloshes around underwater in an
isolation tank. As a student of the Tibetan Book of the Very
Depressed, however, he is convinced that all of his alternate selves
are having a better time than he is. You can judge for yourself.

hno By Bruce David

HERE, IN CONFRONTATION Ball, ERE IMAGES

RELEASED FROM MY SUBCON: 1 WILL

RESOLVE MY FEARS ONE AT A TIME T iN Eu EFFORT TO
BECOME A COMPLETE PERSON.

WHO ARE YOU?

1 AM YOUR FEAR OF

THIS IS GOING TO TAKE
LONGER THAN I THOUGHT.

HEY, YOU GOT “FEAR OF ALBAN-
IAN TERRORIST DWARFS” BACK

YEAH. THEY'LL BE OUT RIGHT
AFTER "FEAR OF PEST] m
WAYNE БЕЛО ЖАША

I'M YOUR FEAR OF BEING FOUND
OUT FOR THE En
INADEQUATE PERS OU

REALLY ARES.

STEP ASIDE, BUB.
ITS MY TURN.

SHIT. | WAS JUST
WARMING UP.

HI! I'M YOUR RIDIC-

IRRATIONAL? DOESN'T WATER.

ATTRACT LIGHTNING? WHAT'S

TO STOP ME FROM GETTING
ELECTROCUTED?

FACE IT. BUB! YOU'VE GOT JUST
AS GREAT A CHANCE OF BEING HIT BY
LIGHTNING IF YOU RETAIN WATER.

QU vo YOU'RE RIGHT!
A NEVERBERN AFRAID

IM YOUR FEAR OF
INTIMACY AND RELA-
TIONSHIPS.

I'M NOT AFRAID OF
INTIMACY AND I WANT
A RELATIONSHIP.

OH, YEAH? THEN HOW
COME YOU'VE NEVER
HAD ONE THAT WORKED?

1 JUST HAVEN'T FOUND

SURE! SHE HAS TO BE HOT AND SEXY

YET NOT THREATENING. SHE HAS TOBE

WITTY AND INTELLIGENT BUT NOT AS

INTELLIGENT AND WITTY AS YOU. SHE

HAS TO MAKE YOU LOOK GOOD BUT
NOT OVERSHADOW YOU.

PLUS, SHE HAS TO BE 5' 7" WITH LONG LEGS, GREEN
EYES AND BONDE SHOULDER- LENGTH, WAVY HAIR.

WHAT MORE COULD
YOU POSSIBLY ASK
FOR?

DO YOU HAVE HER
PHONE NUMBER?

1AM
THE CENTER OF YOUR}
CONSCIOUSNESS.

WHAT MESSAGE DO YOU HAVE FOR ME?

THINGS ARE NEVER
WHAT THEY SEEM.
THERE IS NO OUTER
REALITY. THERE IS.
ONLY THE INNER
MIND. ALL ELSE IS
ILLUSION. STRUGGLE
AND CONFLICT SO TH,
OCCURWITHIN. ALL DIVORCE ATTORNEYS
YOUR RELATION- WILL HAVE SOMETHING]
SHIPS HAVE BEEN TODO
ILLUSIONS.

HOW CAN | CHANGE MY LIFE FOR THE BETTER?

YOU
MUST CONFRONT.
THE TRUTH ABOUT. w
YOURSELF. YOU

WOULDN'T LISTEN
IF I TOLD YOU.

YOU ARE
NOT YET READY
TO SEE YOURSELF
AS YOU REALLY

DO YOU MEAN THAT IN THE GOOD SENSE
OR THE BAD SENSE?

YIKES! THAT GUY JUST
DISAPPEARED. WHAT HAPPENED
TO HIM?

HEWAS JUST
AFIGMENT
OUR
IMAGINATION.

REINCARNATION

life imitates art when playmate lillian müller interprets
the erotic masterpieces of olivia de berardinis

LIVIA DE BERARDINIS can remember the first time she saw Lillian Muller on the
pages of ғілувоу. “She was so beautiful,” she recalls. “She really defined sex-
Чайку." That was 1976, the year in which Muller had been chosen PLAvBOY’s
Playmate of the Year and had embarked on an ambitious acting and modeling career
in Europe. De Berardinis was an artist—an erotic artist who was just beginning to
build her reputation in a field dominated by men. She tore Müller's pictures from the

It's not often that an artist such as Olivia De Berardinis sees her paintings re-
created in real life. At right, art comes alive, with 1976 Playmate of the Year
Lillian Müller (now known as actress Yuliis Ruvál) striking a classic De Berardinis
pose for the camera. Above, the artist returns the favor with a Müller portrait.

PHOTOGRAPHY BY RICHARD FEGLEY / ILLUSTRATIONS BY OLIVIA DE BERARDINIS

‘COSTUME ADAPTATION BY LESLEY LEVIN

116

magazine and pinned them to her studio walls for inspiration. Ten years later, the two women
met. The occasion was a photo session at Playboy Studio West in Los Angeles, where the
magazine was attempting to pull of an unusual homage to De Berardinis’ art—which is now
ranked with the work of Pat Nagel, Alberto Vargas and George Petty. The idea was to take
several of her remarkable paintings and re-create them photographically. When the time
came for the artist to meet the model, De Berardinis did a double take. By sheer coincidenc:
the woman ғ.лувоу had chosen for the layout was the very same Lillian Müller whose pi
tures had graced her studio.

For Müller, stepping inside Studio West was like a return home. After her Playmate of the
Year promotional tour in 1976, she had returned to her native Norway. In Europe, she
appeared on the covers of several magazines and starred in three films —Rosemary's Daughter,

"There's nothing sexier thon a
kimono," claims Olivia De
Berardinis, who created the origi-
nal work below. “It’s the ultimate
fantasy lingerie, because you're
covered yet also exposed.” Lillian
Miller interprets that pose (left).
At right is another attention-
getting re-creation, and on the
following page is one of De
Berardinis' favorite visual puns,
called “Yau Tickle My Ivaries.”

TA
A

120

Doctor's Dilemma and Casanova ES Company—before stunning her agents and friends with an
impromptu early retirement. “I wanted to pursue a regular relationship and a normal life,”
she explains. She and her boyfriend moved to the Norwegian countryside. After a few years, it
became apparent that the experiment wasn't working. “I wasn't made for a so-called regular
life in Norway,” she now admits. When her relationship foundered and her life in “a small
town in a small country" became claustrophobic, she returned to the United States to resume
her career.

Along the way, she made an important decision: to change her name. She had found that
the surname Müller, combined with her sultry Norwegian accent, worked against her getting
parts. “Everyone would take it for granted that I was German,” she complains, “I was sick
and tired of it, so I thought, Why not take my grandmother's (text concluded on page 146)

"When I started pointing, my sub-
jects all looked like me," explains
De Berardinis, “but the more |
worked, the more that changed.”
The work an this page is sold by
De Berardinis’ О Card Corpora-
tion as a birthday greeting. At
right, Müller pays hamage to a
work that originally appeared on
the cover of Zoom, a glossy
French photo magazine. It’s avail-
oble as a limited-edition print.

121

122

Something old, something new.
This poge feotures one of De
Berardinis’ most recent works, her
first experiment in combining oir-
brush (for the body ond foce) with
woter color ond pastels (for the
background). If the pose at right
looks fomilior, you have o shorp.
memory. It's based on o piece
thot first appeored in puanor in
November 1984. Lillion Müller.
mokes it breathe in 1986.

KURT

PLAYBOY

124

SPIANISHEINQUISITION]

(continued from page 102)

"I like to watch her towel herself. Women look so
beautiful when they’re just out of a shower.”

“Hi, darling, where've you been all
night?"

The place's packed, and everybody I
know or don't know's in on the joke,
watching for me to get eaten alive. So I
give this woman a great big smack on the
mouth, which stuns her so severely I make
my getaway.

I squeeze in quick to a place at the bar.
Then I look down where the bar elbows,
and there's Teresa, fighting men off. She's
wearing one of those Western shirts, cut
like a man's but made for women, and it's
silky and white, so she stands out like a
pearl. And every time she moves, it clings
io her in a new and interesting way, so I
get eyestrain trying to watch her without
turning my head. I carry my heart around
in my mouth half the night, watching her
dance, watching her breeze around, one
man after another taking a throw at her
and coming up empty. Later on, here she
comes right up beside me to the bar. She
doesn't look at me, just leans there, wait-
ing for the bartender.

Then, out of the blue, she says, “You
been looking at me all night.”

“So what?" I tell her after I take a big
gulp. “So's everybody.”

“So everybody else is asking me to
dance.”

“I’m too shy for that,” I tell her.

She likes such a remark. She gives me a
long look then, those big, dark eyes. “I
liked the way you handled Big Billie," she
says, finally.

So, to make a long story short, 1 played
hard to get for another five minutes, which
is just my way. Then I asked her to run of
to Mexico with me, and she said she
would. We were both kidding. That was it,
really. She told me right off she only acted
wild, and I told her I only acted bold.

She was living down in Tucson, so I
moved there and in with her. I went to
work up in San Manuel, down in the
minc—a chute tapper, which is pounding
big rocks into little rocks so they'll go
down the chute. It's hard work, but the
money was awful good. Then I made fore-
man of the team, which made sense,
because they always promote the one who
least deserves it, and so I was making
more than a hundred a day on bonus. Our
expenditures took off like a rocket. New
furniture, new pickup; we bought a house
on the northwest side. Then the copper
industry went to hell. They said it would
happen, but nobody believed it. So the
union went on strike, and I went, too.

Inside of one month, we ran through
what little we'd put aside. Cutting back

was harder than walking on one foot. And
I couldn't find a job, because people were
afraid to hire miners when they knew we'd
go right back to the mine as soon as we
could, Unemployment checks kept us from
sinking dear under, but I worried that
Teresa'd start thinking she'd joined the
wrong parade.

Then Teresa says how she used to hire
on with the movie companies that used to
come to Tucson. I tell her I'm not the sort
to have a woman support me, but she says,
“Larry, don't worry about that; it’s not
really work." She said it wasn’t like a
steady job. She said it was fun.

So I said, “OK, see what vou can get."

It was her and her friend Victoria who
used to hire on as extras. Victoria is mix-
Mex, too, so they both worked the West-
ems as Mexicans or Indians. Victoria was
her roommate before I came along, and we
all lived together for a couple or three
weeks. Victoria isn't pretty the same way
as Teresa, but she can look real good, and
she's got a quick head. We had something
happen once, then maybe once again. It
was more like friends getting friendlier;
Victoria gets lonely, and she got lonely
once when Teresa went home for the weck
to Yuma, and again when we were just
talking one afternoon. But it was nothing
more than that; we both knew it.

Anyway, she calls up Teresa and says
there's a job opportunity with some movie
company, so they go out to see about it,
and later on, Teresa phones me. “We both
got the job,” she says. She doesn't sound
too excited about it.

“What do you have to do?”

“I don't know yet for sure.”

She was at Victoria's, and they were
having a couple of margaritas and going
over their part of the script.

“Does it look good?”

“Yeah. In a way.”

That's all she'll say. She comes home
around suppertime, a bit dazed—they'd
each gone through five or six margaritas

“Ноу much does it pay?" I ask her. She
tells me how much, and it seems like
mucho for an extra. "What do you have to
do? Jump offa

She tells me it's nothing like that. “I
play an Indian. We both do. It's a movie
about Spanish conquistadors looking for
the seven cities of gold. It's called The
Spanish Inquisition.”

“Inquisition?” I ask her what that
means.

“I don't know. It has something todo with
converting the Indians to Christianity.”

“Good for you,” I put in then. “A reli-

gion movie, and you're Catholic, even
though you're lapsed.”

I'm trying to be funny, but she doesn't
even smile. So I tell her the whole thing
sounds awful damn simple for all that
money. She says maybe it isn't enough
money. She's not sure what she'll do. She
left the script at Victoria's, and she's tired
and doesn't want to talk about it anymore.
“I have to get to sleep and get up at four,
because it starts tomorrow and they
always start early and it's way down south
of Sonoita.”

Lask her the name of the company, and
she says it's Cibola Productions and that
they've done lots of pictures. She
wouldn't've told me that much if I hadn't
asked.

Then, in the morning, she’s up and gone
before I know it. So I sprawl around the
house all day, wondering if she'll call, but
she doesn't. She comes home after dark
and says she's dog-tired. She wants to
shower and clean off the rest of the make-
up and go straight to bed.

I wait till I hear the water shut off. Then
I push open the door. I like to watch her
towel herself. Women look so beautiful
when they're just out of a shower. She
does, her black hair all wet and slick, and
the way she bends, getting the teeniest fold
across her navel when she runs that towel
up and down her legs. She's got one of
those long, thin-waisted figures that are
full on top without being too full and not
too wide across the hips. She’s smooth all
over, like when they finished making her,
they took and cinched up her skin to make
it fit perfect, like the way they put those
plastic grips on pliers by slipping the plas-
tic on hot so when it cools, it snugs up
firm. She likes her body. She likes having
me watch her. It’s a game we play, and
here I've been lunking all day, building up
my energy.

(continued on page 142)

THE PLAYBOY GALLERY

we ше to think that every installment of
our new editorial-art-photo feature The
Playboy Gallery is good, but this month's
entries ore especially tasty. The art, a
fine-feathered femme by Olivia De
Berardi a previously unpublished
original. If you'd like to see more of
ja's work, turn to Reincarnation, fea-
turing 1976 Playmate of the Year Lil
Miller, on page 114. Our photo (by Di
Zimmerman) is of Morgan Fairchild,
whose bitch-goddess Falcon Crest persona
made her second only to Joan Collins
as America's favorite dangerous damsel.
If you, like we, love to watch Morgan's
pert little nostrils flare when she talks,
volume five of the Playboy Video Maga-
zine features an interview with her that
reveals, among other things, that she
always wanted to look like Sophia Loren.

THE PLAYBOY GALLERY

42%. KE

ЇЙЇ ЛҮ A

“Walt Frazier: ‘Just for fun, Pll have myself paged

and walch everybody looking around for me.

ووو

sweaters a little chance to go out on the
road, to be a part of my life. I also carry a
fruit-paring knife. Thank God I'm Famous
Amos, so the security guards know Im not
a hijacker. Sometimes I wear my naval
admiral's cap, with scrambled eggs and
stuff on Disembarking, Amos has
stewardesses fill a shopping bag with left-
over fruit from the first-class galley.
“That'll be my breakfast some morning,
ог a snack," he says.

R. W. Apple, Jr.: This veteran foreign cor-
respondent for The Neu York Times has jet-
ted virtually everywhere, becoming a
packing maven: “The trick is to find things
that pack casily, stand up to the rigors of
"Third. World laundries and serve many
purposes.”

His bag is a canvas carry-on, so he

never arrives in Cairo to find that Egypt
Air has routed his clothes on to Aswan.
But his mainstay is The Briefcase.
‘or years, I used a plebeian model, un-
til it was stolen in Naples. The insurance
рауо was generous, and now | have a
fancy one by Porsche. I always keep it with
me, packed. If E have to get to the airport
fast—as I did when the Pope was shot—I
can throw in a clean shirt and survive for a
couple of days.”

Stowcd inside: a calculator, folding sun-
glasses, a checkbook, an address book,
guidebooks, first-aid packets and a minia-
turc toilet kit, Apple carries a Braun travel
alarm, with a world time chart and an
alarm that gets louder if it’s ignored, a
Durabeam flashlight, a Sony ICF-7600D
radio and spare batteries, Also on board
area miniature leather tool kit (“for repair-
ing hotel plumbing, decrepit rental cars
and the like”), traveler's checks, a leather
pouch with international coins, a mini-at-
las and a Swiss army knife (which guards
seized at the Venice summit meeting)

He also carries a portable pepper mill.
“It's amazing what a few turns of the ma-
chine will do for a meal prepared by the
агу sadists of the Iraqi army.”

Airborne, he wears The Uniform: “Cor-
duroy trousers with clastic woven in, mak-
g them wrinkle resistant and stretchable,
a polo shirt or a turtleneck, depending on
the climate, and a jacket.” He packs a
bl medium-weight suit, a quick-dry
athing suit, a fold-up bag for purchases
1 route and boots for those rainy days
London, snowy days in Minsk or dusty
days in Marrakesh.

Peter Burwash: As president of Peter
Burwash International, a comp:
trains and places tennis pros at 63
23 countries, Burwash travels 300 days a
year. He conducts business in transit with
the help of a mini-office that he carries in a

Verdi shoulder bag. Inside, he stashes a
fold-up briefcase, envelopes and paper in
an expandable folder, and two address
books, one containing 16,000 names. Also
tucked in the bag are a 5" x 7” pencil case
that holds a Swingline stapler, a small
pencil sharpener, a six-inch ruler, Scotch
tape, miniscissors, a two-inch Phillips- and
regular-head-screwdriver set, a sewing kit,
20 Avery file labels, four Duracell AA bat-
teries, a calculator and Band-Aids.

City maps go in the bag along with an
assortment of felt-tip pens, a 35mm mii
camera, film and a micro dictation
machine, Also inside are a document case,
a bag of change in various currencies for
airport telephones, a zippered bank bag to
hold his 20 or so airline tickets and white
tape to repair tears in his luggage. Bur-
wash obviously believes in the boy-scout
dictum “Be prepared.”

Stockard Channing: “It's a point of honor
with me to take nothing 1 won't wear—if
you have too much stuff, you get angry at
your clothes,” the actress says. “But I do
pack books, No phones interrupt you on
planes. Га rather omit comfortable shoes
than three books.”

Channing also checks
through, “If I can't bear to lose it, I don't.
pack it.” Traveling between climates, she
carries separate bags for cach. “Recently,
flying from Italy to Morocco, I stored the
Italy bag in Rome and just took the
Morocco bag.”

Eric Dickerson: “My solution to packing,
since I can’t fold clothes neatly, is to get a
young lady to do it for me,” says the run-
ning back of the Los Angeles Rams. “And
when I can, I avoid connecting flights."

On one trip, Dickerson's prized Louis
Vuitton suitcase was stolen from a con-
veyor belt. His advice: "If you're going to
tote fancy luggage, make it a carry-on.”

Doug Flutie: “I just go through my draw-
ers and grab my favorite clothes," says the
quarterback of the New Jersey Generals.
“I don't pay attention to three pairs of
pants or three shirts or things like that—I
just grab whatever I like and throw it into
a Pony bag." Flutie keeps the Army-style
bags in different sizes to match trip
lengths. “If need a suit, I just hang it in a
garment bag, which I take on the plane.”

Walt Frazier: “1 don't eat on planes, ex-
cept chicken—sometimes that's good,"
says the former center for the New York
Knickerbockers, who often takes off on the
spur of the moment, cither on business or
10 his Virgin Islands hideaway.

“1 used to stay up all night figuring out
my packing, but now it takes ten minutes,
because I pack only what I need.” He
coordinates colors so that all his clothes

her luggage

are interchangeable. He keeps a toilet kit
permanently packed. Size-13 shoes are
hefty, so he takes only one pair, in a neu-
tral color.

When possible, he rents a car instead of
flying, reserving it in advance to avoid has-
sle. “Driving through the countryside can
be very relaxing—no phones, just check-
ing out the scenery." To find a new town's
hot spots, he asks skycaps and cabbies.
Celebrity status helps, he adds, because
you're never a stranger. It also helps re
lieve the tedium of long airport waits:
“Just for fun, ГЇЇ have myself paged and
watch everybody looking around for me.”

John Larroquette: At 65", the Emmy-win-
ning actor on NBC's Night Court requires
a hotel room with a king-size bed. “Small
hotels give you more hospitality," he says.
But he checks out a new one with someone
who has stayed there: “It may be next to a
toxic-waste dump, with people with three
arms wandering around.”

Despising travel, he simplifies by always
kecping a bag packed, including two
unread books. Upon entering his hotel
room, he orders room service, even if he
doesn't want anything. “Just ordering a
sandwich gives you a clue to the quality of
the hotel's restaurant,” he says. “Also, I
want them to wait on me, so I feel Pm
being treated as a guest.”

Robin Leach: A 300,000-miles-a-ycar trav-
cler, the host of TV's Lifestyles gis Rich
and Famous packs each garment on its own
wire hanger, in a separate plastic bag:
“That prevents wrinkles and lets you hang
up your things fast when you arrive.” He
packs a carry-on garment bag and an
under-the-seater, with a shoulder strap.
“A bag over each shoulder is important for
balance.” He keeps his traveling clothes in
a special section of the closet, ready to
grab. He has three identical traveling
wardrobes: “Опе is packed, one is at the
cleaners and one is en route from the
cleaners.

“Fine hotels have advantages. In Bang-
kok, I once discovered that I'd left all my
clothes in Hong Kong, but the hotel there
forwarded everything to Bangkok. And
never check luggage. In Jordan for the
king’s engagement party, I discovered t
the airlinc had lost my suitcases. You can't
just go around the corner in Amman and
buy a tux. I wound up going in a caftan.”
jan: Neiman's packing centers
on his artists supplies, which always
accompany him in a briefcase. He also
takes a travel iron, using a towel atop a
dresser as an ironing board. Since he tends.
to leave his reading glasses on planes, he
carries a spare pair.

For big jobs, such as the Super Bowl, he
carries bulky portfolios. “In first class, you
can carry almost anything on.” His fees
include first-class tickets and hotel suites:
Arriving in Las Vegas to cover a fight, or
in Palm Springs for a golf tournament, he
must be relaxed, ready to begin sketching
immediately. He favors such hotels as The
Mansion in Dallas, the Beverly Hills

129

PLAYBOY

130

UndercoverWear, Inc.
66 Concord Street, North Reading, MA 01864

Please send me, by first class mail, my copy of
the UndercoverWear Holiday Collection catalog
and information on the Olivia Limited Editions.
Enclosed is my check, money order, MasterCard
or VISA for $9.95 which will be applied towards
my first purchase.

Name

Address

City

State Zip

O MasterCard/
D VISA +

Exp. Date
(signature required)

Hotel, the Dorchester in London and thc
Ritz in Paris. “The determining factors are
small ones, such as providing a robe, so
you don't have to carry one," he says. “A
hotel’s view is crucial, too—a splendid
view is liberating when you're working.

He also packs a dark business suit. With
a cummerbund and a bow tie, he
make it formal.

George Plimpton: “Everything I need
goes into a soft-sided bag I can squash un-
der the seat,” says author Plimpton, who
refuses to check bags through.

His devotion to minimal packing may
be genetic. His grandfather circled the
world, discarding things en route, and
arrived home with a large trunk contain-
ing one last pair of socks. “I knew a well-
traveled Cuban who stored trunks in cities
such as Madrid, Paris, Lisbon," Plimpton
says. “Hed arrive carrying only an at-
taché case, pick up his trunk and have all
he needed.”

Plimpton himself travels sans pajamas
and bathrobe, figuring that anything he
really needs, he can buy. In the air, he
works. “Its a wonderful time to write.
About half my bag is taken up with yellow
legal pads and pencils.”

Pompeo Posar: “I tell my wife where I’m
ng and she packs everything for me,”
ys rLaynoy’s Senior Staff Photographer,
producer of this magazine's
centerfold and cover photographs. “When
I fly, I always sit on the left side of the
plane going east and on the right going
west, to avoid the sun. I get an aisle seat,
so I can stretch out and walk around the
plane without disturbing people.

“If I'm checking into a hotel carly, I
always call in advance—often, they bill
you only half a day or they don't charge at
all" he adds. “I tip the chambermaid
every morning, instead of waiting until I
leave, to ensure good service.”

Posar guards his film zealously against
port X rays. “I always pack fresh film
with my clothes,” he says. “I carry a
Polaroid for test shots when 1 get to the
site—ifit’s OK, I know that the film in my
luggage is also OK. Coming back, I hand-
carry the exposed film in plastic bags that
Гус taken with me—you have to insist,
а nice way, that airport security officers
hand-check your exposed film. If they ar-
gue, ask to see their supervisor. In Mexico,
recently, I spent two weeks shooting nine
girls who had flown in from nine countries
and four continents—imagine if airport
X rays had fogged my film!

Posar carries his camera equipmentin a
pilot-style carry-on bag. “I never use a
camera bag. ] don't want to advertise my-
self as a photographer, which makes you
vulnerable to thieves and extra customs
inspections.” For off hours, he says, “1
take a small automatic camera, just to tak
shots for fun of flowers, boats, scenery.”

Deborah Reffin: Raffin travels frequently
to China on film-industry business.
ways pack a small set of stereo head-
phones, because the plane’s car phones

Ial-

terrible,” she says. “Plus a Walkman,
books on tape, dried food and an electric
pot for preparing soup or tea in my hotel
room. And I always use inexpensive lug-
gage on wheels; even my carry-on bag is
cheap." Rallin has stopped buying expe
sive luggage, because it was inevitably
destroyed in tran

For some situations, she says, only a
sense of humor helps. In Inner Mongolia,
she reluctantly boarded a tiny, rickety
prop plane. The crew sealed the doors.
“Suddenly, the stewardess rushed down
the aisle; they'd locked out the pilot.”

Wally Schirra: “In the old Apollo days, 1
traveled with only a change of underwear
and one suit, a space suit—we weren't fre-
quent fliers, but we got in a lot of mile-
age,” says the pioncer astronaut. Now he
ped handle, designed for car-
с а garment bag
over his shoulder. Schirra keeps an air-
e-schedule guide handy. “I build my
flight plan with the travel agent, rather
than just saying, "Launch me.” He also
belongs to several VIP airline clubs.
“Blow your connections and, instead of
standing in line, you have the club rear-
range your schedule.” If his travel agent
can't do it, he gets his seat assigned at the
club, too. He checks his bags with the sky-
cap at the curb. “The only line 1 haven't
figured out how to avoid is security."

Deke Slayton: Another of the original
seven Mercury astronauts, Slayton still
has the “right stuff” for flying. He mini-
mizes his pay load: “I list what I need and
then halve it,” he says. He opts for drip-
dry polyester,
don't like carry

“A former NASA flight surgeon told me
how to handle jet lag. Get into sync with
the day, wherever you arc. Also, your firs
night abroad, take a sleeping pill. I
ally death on sleeping pills, but Гус found

works like a charm."

Slayton carries nothing electrical. “In
Moscow, my wife once plugged in the
boiler for her contact lenses, using an
appropriate electrical converter, but the
thing popped anyway, a small explosion—
the Russians had to rewire the room.”

Calvin Trillin: “My only rules for travel
are, if you want to go, then go, and keep an
eye on your luggage,” says author and
New Yorker stall writer Trillin, who travels
as light as a feather. “Pm not a lawyer,
and reporters are known to be rumpled
and shabby-looking, so I just take the
sports coat Um ш. Actually, I don't.
even own a suit." Rather than haul clothes
with him, Trillin lives off the land. “You're

п а pretty remote spot il
one-day laundry service,

John Up
years that the plastic bags that clean shirts
come in make excellent impromptu toilet
its for tooth paste and the like,” says the
novelist. “And, before leaving the hotel
room, always look under the pillow in case
you left а handkerchief or earplugs there.”

he says.
e: “I have found over the

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131

PLAYBOY

132

SIGOURNEY WEAVER

(continued from page 105)

“Give me the script and I'll see what I can do with it.
Don’t write me off as some Grace Kelly type.”

all my friends were Jewish, and they were
all very funny. But there weren't really a
lot of laughs on the kibbutz. People were
working too hard and were too vulnerable
This was in 1970. It was a sober place and
very traditional. Women did all the
kitchen chores and men were out in the
fields. It was much more traditional than I
had had in mind. I had expected some sort
of Utopian community where everyone
was equal But I was one of only ten
Is—and the rest of them were there to
find good, upstanding Isracli husbands,
They weren't interested in changing the
way the kibbuiz ran. I got into a fair
amount of trouble trying to do it myself. It
was the most boring two months I ever
spent. I discovered that Jewishness and
Isracliness are different things.

тлуноу: What stays with you most about
the making of Aliens?

weaver: Truly? The big thing was that I
worked with a nine-year-old girl [Carrie
Henn] for most of Aliens, and Vd never
had a little friend I saw every day. She was
really good company. Our relationship
was one of equals, on and off the set, And I
was very proud of her at the end. That
relationship was probably the focus of the
movie, and certainly that changed my
notion of what children are about. 1 used
to think they were just children. In fact,
they're little people, You may change and
grow, but you're basically who you are
from early on. The experience also made
the thought of having my own kids seem
like more fun.

12.

ptavnoy: Your dad, Pat Weaver, played a
crucial role in the carly development of
TV programing. He created The Tonight
Show and the Today show, put spectaculars
and Sid Gaesar on the air. Do you recall a
moment when the realization of his
accomplishment blew you away—and not
just because you're his daughter?

weaver: I remember exactly. І was at
Stanford, taking a course in communica-
tions, which frankly bored me. All every-
one there was interested in was films and
film making. Television was considered
“yuck.” It wasn't exciting anymore. But
my father was asked to come up and
speak, and within 20 minutes, he had gal-
vanized all those people into wanting to
work in television. He reminded them of
what television was originally there to do.
When you hear my father, not only do you
get his spark but you get moved by televi-
sion’s potential. And you get horrified at
what's happened to an invention that

started out to be such a glorious thing. It’s
there to wake people up and to give, as he
says, the common man the uncommon
perience. And now it’s sort of a dead
nerve. It puts people to sleep.

13.

PLAYBOY: Why doesn't he work in television
today?

weaver: Yeah. He even started cable TV
20 years ago, for goodness’ sake. [Pauses]
The fact that he’s not in control shows that
his ideas are still considered dangerous.
They involve quality and taking big
chances. Im not saying that someone like
Grant Tinker doesn't. He's done a very
good job of pulling NBC away from what
the other networks are doing. Yet I do
think it's ironic that with all the awards
my father receives, he still doesn't have the
power. When he describes his vision and
ideas, TV executives all go, “Ha, God,
that’s so exciting.” Then they all go home
and program the same old stuff. I tried to
set up a series of on-camera interviews
with my father, with me asking the ques-
tions. I would like to record in some form
what he does as a live speaker. If he tries
to write a book, he writes the way he talks,
and the sentences go on for pages, you
know. But when he's therc just standing
with his hands in his pockets, jingling his
change and talking to everybody, he turn
everything around.

14.

PLAYBOY: What did you say the last time
anyone suggested your success had some-
thing to do with your father's connections?
weaver: I never used to mention who my
father was when I went up for a job,
especially in television. The last time it
happened was when I was going up for a
TV series with James Brooks [Terms of
Endearment, The Mary Tyler Moore Show]
and Allan Burns. Brooks said, “Still riding
on the old man's coattails, huh?" I flushed
to the bottom of my feet. By that time, I
had already achieved some success, so the
statement mortified me. But it also made
me laugh. Brooks didn't do it for real, but
s still something I don't want to hear
when I go in for interviews.

15.

PLAYBOY: What should a young girl learn
from her mother?
weaver: To make her own mistakes.

16.

PLAYBOY: Your family is fairly well to do.
Gould you play someone. poor?

weaver: My father made a lot of money,
but he was still on salary, so his fortunes

rose and fell with the jobs he took. I never
worried about where my next meal was
coming from, but I didn’t feel like part of
the rich world. Still, one of my frustrations
is having been somewhat pegged into the
rich-girl role—and even if I'm not, as in
Ghostbusters and Eyewitness, my characters
get huge, deluxe apartments. It’s not the
way in which they would live. But I guess
the crews need the room in which to move
the camera around. Directors tend to
make women in film grander than they
are, anyway. They're still caught up with
them as glamorous. Usually, they clean
women up and make them appetizing and
into their ideals, which can often be a first
wife or a girl they were in love with in high
school. I suspect it has happened to me
There isn't a whole lot of curiosity about
normal, everyday women—which is а
great loss to the public and films and to me
as an actor. I want to play all kind:
women. I’m an actor. That's my job.
me the script and Pl see what I с
with it, Don't just write me off as some
Grace Kelly type. If thought I was cut
out to play only rich people, I'd be so very
bored with the prospect.

17.

PLAYBOY: You live in New York but have
spent a good deal of time in Hollywood.
Who gives better parties, New Yorkers or
Angelenos?

weaver: I do. They're children's parties.
There's usually a magician or some enter-
tainer. I love people with specialties, such
as fire-eaters. I've never given a party
where people just stand around, drink and
talk. I had a Halloween square dance for
my birthday. 1 had a witch for a caller. It
was glorious—all these goblins and tigers
and ghosts dancing around the room,
drunk, laughing, screeching, trying to fol-
low directions a lot of people who
wouldn't normally be thrown together in
such a violent manner.

18.

piaynoy: What's on your bookshelf that no
one would suspect is there?

weaver: I have three copies of The Dragons
of Eden. 1 like to read about evolution. I
don't know if we're evolving up or down.
I've thought about developing gills and
going swimming. Maybe someday.

19.

PLAYBOY: You worked with Michael Caine
in Half Moon Street. Did you get a chance
to ask him, "What's it all about, Alfie?”
weaver: I should have. He works hard but
secretly. You don't sce it. And he wants to
be home for dinner. He wants everybody
else to get home for dinner.

20.

PLAYBOY: What's better than a massage?
weaver: Гуе always been fond of the 3

a-Whirl.
8

“How's the diet coming, Mr. Sims?”

FASTFORWARD

3
3
E

‘RICK DEES

son of “disco duck”

Directly in front of Rick Dees’s radio console is a red-
neon sign ‘reading, RICK DEES 15 5000 sruPiD, In Decs's
case, however, stupid is good. It's made him the
number-one disc jockey in Los Angeles by one of the
widest margins in radio history. And now he’s reaping
the benehts of taking the show-business capital by storm,
with TV gigs, commercials, albums and movie deals
occupying his off-radio hours.

“I find that the stupider | am, the more I go over
explains Dees, 36, of his silly humor and cast of goon-
ish characters on KIIS in L.A. “I’ve always been a
buffoon.”

A radio buff in his youth, Dees grew up during the
heyday of personality dise jockeys; but when his time
behind the microphone came, the business had changed.
“In the Sixties, it was “Just play the hits and shut up."
So 1 tried to create a personality in spite of that
Га say something stupid that people would remem-

ber. Th:
fat and getting the funny part right into the audiences’
minds.” Along the way, he recorded Disco Duck, a 1976
hit novelty record

“That song is still a great calling card,” he says. “ГИ
go to people who don't know me and ГЇЇ say, Remember
Disco Duck? They'll say, "That was the worst thing I
ever heard.’ And ГЇЇ say, ‘I wrote it”

But can Dees bestupid forever? “I can go on for 30 years,”
he says. “You don't burn out that much in radio. I’m living
a fantasy. І hope I never grow up.” —MERRILLSHINDLER

s the essence of humor—timming off the

‘STEVEN PUMPHREY

WOODY HARRELSON»?

playing dumb

“It’s weird to feel that people are looking at you,” says
Woody Harrelson, 24, a virtual unknown before he landed the
part of the swect but dim Woody Boyd, a bartender on Cheers.
“Pm not complaining. This is what Гу

always wanted

fame may be what Harrelson wanted, but, for a while, he
had reason to wonder if it was headed his way. A drama major
from Hanover College, where he played the lead in 28 plays,
he decided to m: his mark in New York. Not only did he not
get acting work but, after ten months of trying, he hit bottom

“I got into a fight with my boss at a sleazy little restaurant
where I was the night cook," he explains. He lost more than
the fight and his job. “АН my money, $126, was in a duffel bag
stolen during the fight. Then the police arrested me. 1 had
already borrowed from everyone who was speaking to me
except my mother. I decided to leave New York the next Tues-
day, but on that Friday, 1 got my first break—a part as ап
understudy in Biloxi Blues.”

That job kept him in the business, but it wasn’t until the
Cheers producers, looking to replace the late Nicholas
Colasanto, who had played Goach, chose him over several
cognizable to the pub-
when he walks into a restau
irlfriend Carol Kane, he hears
turn. Occasionally, a fan will approz
as dumb as the character you play?”

“It really kills me when people ask that. I feel like smacking
them,” says Harrelson. “You have to be pretty smart to play
dumb. You have to be observant and intelligent enough to
know the facets of stupidity and scc the humor." —JEAN PENN

better-known actors that he became
lic. Now,

nt, especially with
slight stir as heads
ch him and ask, “Are you

«FREDDIE SPENCER
life in the fast lane

Freddie Spencer is not unlike other young presidents of
international marketing corporations. He jets between his
offices in Amsterdam, Yokohama and Shreveport, Louisiana,
making licensing deals, handling endorsements and turning a
tidy profit. There is, perhaps, a small diflerence: Spencer has
only one product—himself.

As it turns out, that one product is enough, since Spencer, at
24, is probably the fastest man on a motorcycle in the world.
Several times a month, from March to September, he mounts
a 150-horsepower, 180-mile-per-hour, 270-pound crotch rocket
called a 500-c.c. Grand Prix motorcycle and, morc often than
not, whips the rest of the world's best pro riders. Last year, he
also raced in the 250-c.c. (75 hp, 150 mph) class and managed
to win both world titles simultancously—a first for any rider

But Spencer has always had a talent with motorcycles. He
started racing at the age of five, won his first championship on
a dirt track at eight and expanded to pavement racing at 11. In
1977, at 15, he competed in five classes at once and took titles
in four.

“Almost everything I do is by feel,” he explains. “I don't use
brake markers or corner markers or anything. 105 very difficult
to get into the corners faster and come out faster than anyone
else, but Гуе always felt that if I could do that, I'd win every
time.”

lronically, Spencer is far from a household word in the
United States, where world-class motor-sports grcats take a
back scat to the likes of Hulk Hogan and Ваше of the Network
Stars. But in Europe and Japan, he's mobbed like a movie star
“That gives me the best of both worlds," he says. “1 can go
back to Shreveport and play basketball with my friends. Its
just like I was Freddie ten years ago. GARY WITZENBURG

PLAYBOY

136

ELEMENT OF SURPRISE

(continued from page 84)

“The guy I bopped had a kilo of pure cocaine in his
room and I took it. Somehow they had found me out.

- Some snow stuck to my shovel. That
n Philadelphia, my last job, and the
guy I bopped had a kilo of pure cocaine in
his room and I took it, And somehow they
had found me out. Allright, a mistake, but
1 wasn't going to let it turn into anything
serious

I stood up and saw the gun on the end
table next to the telephone. Damn it, 1
thought, 1 should have gott id of that. I
took it into the bathroom and used toilet
paper to wipe it clean. Then I wrapped it
inside the paper bag they used for a liner
n the wastebasket, those cheap bastards,
and stuck it inside my jacket pocket.
went over to the motel office. I had paid
cash in advance and wanted my change,
Simple and no records.

‘The clerk was a college с
ples. “How was everything,
son?" he asked me.

“Fine. I think you're growing a better
brand of roach since the last time 1 was
here,” I said.

“Roaches?” H
face on. WI
him was
right away.”
ry a demolition
ing my change.

What do

I just sighed
Another fle
world wa
use a good extermi

was

Mr.

John-

- put this big concerned
ought to have concerned
its. “PH call our exterminator

cam,” I said, pocket-

au mean?”

“Forget it, will you?”
flea brain. The
ly could

shining its ass
—I read that once in a sappy detecti
movl—so 1 put on my sunglasses. I
wished I hadn't when I looked back and
saw Pimples staring at me through the
ollice window. But then I figured, Aaah, to
hell with it. Everybody looks alike wearing
sunglasses.

‘Two bloc

I bou

away, I bought а newspaper

from a dork who told me to have a nice
the

day. Another block later, I took
wrapped. gun from my pocket, put it i
side the newspaper and dropped the
whole package into a litter basket.

Another block away, I flagged down a
cab.

Phe airport,” I said.
The guy looked into the back seat and
said, “Logan, right
“You know another
He turned H

n Boston
Wicked

irport
Logan it is.

I've always
their stupid accents.
and,

hey talk EÊ
о boot, are absolutely the worst d
side ol Mexico City

an the chatter and get me to the
it airport in one piece, will you?"
Directionals must be outlawed up there.

To make a right-hand turn, this imbecile
pulled into the left-hand lane, leaned on
his horn and swerved across two lanes of
traffic into another street. Ir was Charles
Street, and all the shops seemed to have
igns th owe this and ve OLDE
that. These merrie olde shopkeepers ought
to try visiting ye olde London, where the
people had to be the stinkingest on earth. 1
had been there two years carlicr, and ye
olde soap bar and ye olde deadorant
hadn't seemed to be real big hits.

The cab lurched to a stop at Logan,
nearly loosening my teeth, and Idiot Boy
said. “That's foahteen dollahs." So 1
dropped a ten and a five through the front
window.

"Keep the change. Use it for remedial
driving school."

I had a few minutes, so I stopped in the
lounge for a drink. The television screen
was filled with a solemn dickhead re-
porting on “the gangland-style killing” of
a young attorney that morning. He had
been shot by an unknown assailant as he
lelt his home for work. The only descrip-
of the killer was that he wore dark
lasses. | took off my sunglasses. The
lawyer left a wife and three small children,
and they had an interview with the wife,
ing and wailing and wonder-

ng why someone would kill her husband,
who didn’t have an enemy in the world.

Wrong, lady, I thought. He had an
enemy, somebody who hated him enough
ay me to kill him. What the lawyer had
1 didn't know and didn't care. He
t another day"

.
1 the shuule to New York was
borne, I ordered a Chi: Regal on the
rocks, then figured maybe I ought 10 walk
back to the bathroom to see if there was
anybody on the plane that I recognized.

There wasn't, so I hunkered down in my
seat with my С and thought about
that phone call again. So they were going
to try to kill me, all over a stinking 2.2
pounds of cocaine, a stinking pile of degen-
crate powder for stinking degenerates who
wanted to kill themselves.

I had taken it only for the money. That
much blow was worth more than a quarter
of a million out on the street. So it was a
risk, but I'd taken it and then they'd found
out and h n Charley Cletis the job of
killi

t read, v

tion

who was ci

s work.

, but my own first solo contract
had been on the guy who'd recruited me
and taught me «bout the hit man’s trade.
So I thought it was poetic justice that they
gave the job of kissing me off to somebody
Thad trained. It was the way the people 1
worked for liked to plan: neat, tidy, no

loose ends.

Т was thinking it all through when this
redheaded bimbo leaned over and said,
“Another drink, sir? Last call
drink, Га ring
I snapped. She got uppity. the
always do when somebody
their big. phony l'm-
a smile, and stalked off,
nursed the Chivas and weighed
my option:

‘Option one; 1 could run away

Option two: I could kill Charley Cletis.

Option two was better. IET ran, the con-
tract would stay open and anyone could
collect on it. I had this image of what my
a marked man, looking
lecping with a bazook;
my pillow, owning a freaking toy
poodle that barked ar raindrops, just to
sure nobody sneaked up on me.

If E killed Cletis, though, the old pep-
pers who ran the organization would have
to vote on whether or not 10 issue a new
contract on my life. Chances were they

If 1 wanted anothe
your bell,”
way

they

life would be like

wouldn't. I had worked for them for 15
years, and I knew them. They didn't like
untidiness or risk and, despite all that crap

about Marlon Brando and Don Corleone,
if they were faced with a man who fought
they would back off. They'd accept
their losses, assume Га keep my trap shut,
and Pd go my own sweet way. With the
cocaine. Maybe they'd even give me a gold
watch for faithful serv
than risk being shot the
It was the only way
That left Charle:

back.

to go.
Cletis to get rid of. I fi
ured it wouldn't be any problem at all.

1 though

I put on my sunglasses and tilted the
seat back and thought about Cletis. He
wasn't the kind of guy you would forget,
6'6" or so, less than 150 pounds, a big
shock of that looked like s
could picture him, an automatic
hand, firing out entire clips li
witted Rambo or Sehwarzenuts, or what-
ever his name is.

1t wasn't a bad thought, because Char-
ley Cletis just wasn't 100 bright. He had
something else going against him. too: He
had lost the surprise factor, thanks to that
phone call. I had warned Cletis about sur-
prise when I broke him in . . . hell, it had
years ago. We were at one of the
organization's properties in New Jersey—
one of those big, isol th
build to keep the garbage dumps fom
running into I had been asked.
to show Cletis the ropes as a favor to some
organizational friends in Chi
off my nose; my territory didn't r
the way to Chicago.

So I had tried my best
scarecrow down and told him the truth
jothing is important except surpri
Look at political killings. The casie
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and blow him away. If you don't hav
don't even take the gun out of your pocket;

оте di

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PLAYBOY

138

just shoot him right through the cloth. The
target doesn’t even know he's a target.
Surprise. Surprise is the key, because
without that, it's just another even fight,
and who the hell wants an even fight?
You're not getting paid to win half the gun
fights at the O.K. Corral."

But Cletis just looked at me, and I could
see contempt in those watery blue eyes of
his. I knew it right then. He was some kind
of throwback merry days of Al
Capone and the Twenties, the type who'd
use a submachine gun when a .22-caliber
istol would do the job. His teeth
for him to be smart.

“Goddamn letis, did you hear any-
thing I said?”

Cletis smiled and gave me that soft
Southern drawl, the way they talk when
their mouths h sheep turds,
and he said, “Raht. Suhprazz.”

С 1 te Southerners. They
wouldn't recognize an idea if it jumped up

to the

e filled wi

and fastened its tecth on their corncob
pipe.
“That means, ‘Right. Surprise,’ doesn't

In English?" I said.
Кам. lprazz," and then he ked
off to shoot another 100 rounds into a sta-
tionary target.

that was that and Cletis was off to
Chicago. I scanned the papers once in a
while, expecting to find him dead in some
dumb shoot-out, but he must have gotten
lucky, because I never saw anything about
him, and I put him out of my mind.

Until that phone call. Charley, 1
thought, you've been lucky, but your luck
is running-out, Pm going to have a sur-
prise for you.

Alter the plane touched down in New
York, I walked around the airport for a
while, making sure 1 wasn't being fol-
lowed, then I grabbed a cab.

But I didn't go back to my apartment
Instead, I checked into a fleabag hotel on
the other side of Ith Street, then called
my own phone number and used a beeper
to get the messages from my machine.

There was only one.

“Hiya, ol buddy.

This is Charley

"Remember "Bambi?"

Cletis. Long time, no see. How ‘boutcha
give me a buzz when you get in?” He left а
phone number.

Т could feel the sweat on my palms as I
asked the hotel operator to get me the
number. It was a good feeling. It was
маги

“Hello, Cletus. This is Garth.”

“Ax, оГ buddy. Nice message there on
vour machine. Most folks do leave some
nda message, you know. Not jus’ thirty
seconds’ dead air.”
n. I hated the way he talked,
he sounded talking to a man he
was planning to kill. I hated him for think-
ing he was good enough to take me on. 1
hated it that the dumb Rebel bastard
couldnt pronounce Alex and always
called me Ax.

But all I said was, “You know me; 1
don't care much for el
something?”

“Jus in town for a couple da:
Cletis said. "Thought we
together for a drink.”

"You run out of shitkickers to drink
with?"

Naw, but "tain't often I get a chance to
drink with my mentor." He pronounced
the last word slowly —men-lore. "Course,
iff a don' wa Ws

“What the hell,

lunch."
ahn. When? Where?”
Let's meet at my office tomorrow,
said. "I get in around cleven. Mect mc
there and ГЇЇ take you to а good restau-
rant. Real food. Not that catfish crap you
people eat.”

“Eleven o'clock? On Sattid;
must be real good."
ot that good," I said. ‘It’s just my
schedule. Saturday morning, ten o'clock
sharp, I get my car cleaned at the car wash
down the block, and then I go to the office
to check the mail. Like clockwork.”

You always was like clockwork,” Cletis
said with a dry chuckle. “You still driving
that old blue clunker?”

“Sure,” I said
only my women fa:

“Fast women, fast ponies. That's what I
remember about you," Cletis said. “Ya
been away?”

Out of town a couple of days. On
business."

“But you're home now,” he said.

“Right now, I am where
$ the company,” I lied.

“Old dog,” Cletis said. “Ya gonna get
marricd and settle down is what ya gonna
be tcl

ichat. You want

R&R,"
naht get

а.

I said. “Lers get

? Business

like my cars slow,

he welcome is

lady
the offi

“Look forward, Ax,”

“Me, too,” I said; but after I hung up
the phone, Е said out loud, “Ya upid
shitkicker, who do you think you're jerking
around with?”

It would be the car wash. I knew it be-
cause Cletis was just too damned obvious

about it. I left the room to go for a walk. It
was cooler, and the night air always
helped me think.

One way or another, I wound up going
toward Alphabet City—an ugly slash of
New York, running south from 14th Street
and sliced up by avenues A, B, C and D.
That's where it got its nickname—that
and maybc from the fact that most of the
people there can't recite the alphabet.
More than Harlem, more than Times
Square, it was New York City's combat
zone. The streets weren't unsafe only at
night; they were unsafe at high noon. Gary
Cooper would get his ass shot off walking
down these streets.

I called it home. Its where 1 lived,
among the orange-hairs and the leather
boys and the girls who wear tire chains
around their necks and T-shirts with holes
cut in them so their nipples can stick out.
It was where 1 wanted to live. No one
asked amy questions and mo one cared
what you did, and that was all I wanted
from a neighborhood. And Alphabet City
would stay that way, too, because thc
scum of the city would always need a place
to collect. I felt for the trendies—young
women, mostly—who had moved into the
area because the rents were low. I saw
one of them coming toward me down the
street, a tall, thin, uptown type, flanked by
two woolly dogs with heads big enough to
belong to grizzly bears.

I almost laughed aloud. These dumb
broads. What's the point of saving moncy
on rent when you have to spend all you
save on 100-pound dogs and tons of soup-
bones and Alpo beef chunks by the case
and wee-wee pads the size of mattresses?

The woman was getting close, and she
smiled this nervous smile at me. Not
smart, I thought. Just when she got near
me, I jumped in front of her, waved my
arms and yelled, “Boo!”

Well, she shrieked, and those two stupid
Japanese dogs whimpered and hid behind
her legs

“Hey, lady,” I said, “Why don't you
move the hell out of here and go someplace
nice? Before you and your doggies get
hurt?”

She mumbled under her breath and
yanked the dogs along. Just for good luck,
I reached out and patted her rear end as
she scuttled away

Guard dogs. Not around here, lady, not
in Alphabet City. Smarts keep you alive
down here, not Yuppic guard dogs that
you have to hand-feed sushi to. In Alpha-
bet City, there arc only three kinds of pco:
ple: smart people, dead people and
candidates for dead people. I was one of
the smart ones. “Down here,” I said to
myself, “Charley Cleús would be dog
meat.” I laughed aloud on the empty
street, It felt good to be back home.

I turned. toward the river, then stood
across the street from my tenement build-
ing. There were no curtains on my win-
dows, and I could see the bare bulb
hanging from the ceiling. I never could see

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PLAYBOY

140

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spending money on decorating,

1 used my key to let myself in and
walked up the dark steps to my floor. I lis-
tened at the door, but it was quiet inside. I
felt at the top of the door for the pi
Scotch tape I always stick there so I can
tell if anybody has been in my apartment
after I've left. The tape wasn't there and,
for a moment, my heart thumped hard and
the breath caught in my throat. Then 1
remembered 1 had run out of tape just be-
fore I left for Boston

1 unlocked the door, pushed it open,
waited a beat, then went in. I had come for
a gun, but, just like that, a plan started
forming in my mind. I took a few pieces of
clothing from a pile in the closet and stuck
them inside an old gym bag. I picked up
the wastebasket from under the kitchen
table and from the bottom took a .32-cali-
ber revolver that was taped there. It was
loaded, so 1 put it in the holster on the
back of my belt, under my jacket. It was a
clean gun—no record of it anywhere:

Back on the street, 1 felt better, feeli
the weight of the gun. A few bloc
stopped in a bar called The Sin!
rot. Pd never seen it before, but that didn’t
surprise me, because in that neighbor-
hood, a guy opened a saloon, used it as a
front while he sold $1,000,000 worth of
drugs, then took his money and got out
and sold the joint to somebody who
changed the name and started it all over

When 1 opened the front door, the smell
from the place almost made me gag. It was
this mixture of urine and smoke and alco-
hol and sweat, and it was lethal. I thought
that somebody someday was going to light
a cigarette in there
the place was going to explode in a fire-
ball. I stood at the corner of the bar and
put the gym bag on the floor between my

at the wrong time and

ict you somethin
yelled at me over the
Chivas, rocks,” I said.

“Pretty fancy for in here,” the bartender
said

“Not for me.”

“Why not?” he asked.

What I wanted to say was that 1 was a
Lithuanian princess in disguise, looking
for a suitable husband. What I said was
that I hit a pony and would he please get
me my drink.

I gave him the three dollars and looked
around the place. It was lit like a pinball
achine, and | wondered how much
money a person could make in a dive like
this, I spotted the big man at the bar right
away. He was this big, noisy black dude
wearing a black-leather jacket and dirty
white painter's pants and
dic of July, he had a ski с:

The plan for the whole thing was coi
ing together in my mind, but I had to work
it out carefully. No slip-ups. 1 thought 1
had been careless a couple of times already
that day. Taking too long to dump the gun

fireplug bar-
noise

re of

in Boston. Wearing sunglasses watching
that stupid news report. Even waiting too
long before checking to sec if anybody
dangerous was on that plane. No tape on
the door. Little mistakes like that, 1 knew,
could cost you. I was swirling the drink in
my hand, watching the black man’s mouth
move and wondering again why the organ-
ization would send someone like Cletis
after me. Christ, they could've hired M.
tino, He was а мор, but at least he was
professional,

‘Yo! be havin’ trouble wif уо? eye-
balls?”

I blinked and saw that the big guy was
yelling at me. I had been staring at him. I
looked away, but it was too late: he came
down the bar and stood alongside me.

"Ah ask you, somefin’ wrong wif yo"
eyeballs, vou starin” at me like dat?

On a different night, a diferem place, 1
might just have said, “No. Actually, I was
mesmerized by your mastery of the
English language.” But not this night

So 1 said, “Sorry, mister. lm just
ing."

“You leaves when ah says you leaves.”

The bartender was hovering around, so
I leaned over and said softly, i
climber off my back, will you

Hey, Uncle Joe." the ba
“Let him be. He's lea

"Ah makes

1 grabbed the gym bag in my left hand
and headed for the door. 1 could feel
black guy walking behind me, and I knew
what was next. As soon as | got outside,
he'd slam me in the back, cold-cock me,
drag me into the alley and lift everything I
owned.

I had the gun in my hand be
out the door, and 1 se
starting his punch, so | pulled away, spun
around and let him sec the gun aimed at
s face. He still had his fists clenched
together, in front of his head, but now he
separated them slowly
Hey, bro’. No need fo" dat,” he said.
Then he smiled. Then I smashed the heel
of the gun butt into his nose. He dropped
like a wet sock. 1 knelt alongside him and
slammed his face again with the butt of the
gun, What there was of his nose went soft
under it.
owre lucky, Bomba,” I said. “Pm
busy tonight, or Vd just love taking y
apart.” He groaned and his eyes rolled
back into his head, so 1 picked up my gym
bag and took off at a trot before any of his
liuermates came out looking for him

1 walked back to the hotel. feeling good
I might be getting older, but I wasn’t old
yet. Not yet

I stayed awake for two hours, carefully
working out the trap 1 was going to set
When I finally rolled onto my side to get to
sleep, I knew it was dead-center perfect. I
closed my eyes, wondering again who it
was that had called me in Boston. Why
would somebody want to help me? And in
those last few seconds before sleep, the

c l was

sed when he was

answer popped into my head. It had to be
somebody who hated Cletis even more
than 1 did, somebody who had a score to
seitle with the redneck rube. It was a good
reason and it solved the puzzle and I slept
like a baby

Nine o'clock the next morning, I parked
my car in front of a small luncheonctte two
blocks from my apartment. The neighbor-
hood was ripe, I thought as I stepped from
the car. The hot July sun was already bak-
ing the garbage on the sidewalks and the
swect stench of decay hung in the air

Through the window, | saw a beefy
gray-haired man bchind the countcr and,
when I went in, he said, “Hey, Al. How's
the private-cye business?" His name was
Benny, and he thought he was my friend.

“Looking good. I need a favor.”

Naturally, he looked away without
answering. In Alphabet City, favors gener-
ally get you thrown in jail

“Nothing serious,” T said. “I need you
to drive my car through the car wash down
the block.”

"Yeah?"

“That's it,” | said. "There's twenty
bucks in it for you. Ten minutes’ work."

“Just go get your car washed?"

“At ten o'clock. That's all,” I said

“This isn't dangerous, is it?”

“Соте on, Benny, for Christ's sake. I'm
talking about a car wash.”

"Twenty bucks." Benny
“Awright. What the hell.”
p." I said
Louie can

hesitated.

Ten o'clock sl

o sweat. watch the
counter.”
I took three ten-dollar bills from my

jacket pocket. “Here's your twenty. The

extra ten's for the car wash.”
p"

“What do I do afterward
“Bring the car back her

I said. “PI
pick it up later
“OK.”
“And be sure to wear these.” I took off
my snap-brim hat and my sunglasses and
put them on the counter. T tried my smile
on Benny. “A disguise for you,” I said
“So І should look like you.” Benny
said.
“You should be so lucky, fatso,” I said
and grinned at him. Like a friend would
In the men's room of a saloon on the
corner, I took a bottle of black shoe polish
from the gym bag, put some on my fingers
and dabbed it on the hair on my temples
changing the gray to black. Then I washed
my hands, put the shoc polish back into
the bag and changed from my suit jacket
into an old baseball warm-up jacket. I put
on a New York Yankees baseball cap, then
folded my suit jacket and put it inside the
gym bag. On top of that, I put the .32-
caliber revolver.

When I walked away from the saloon, 1
felt the churning in my stomach that I al-
ways feel when a job is near. Some people
may find that sensation unpleasant, but
not me. Draw up a good plan, execute it

well and bingo. It's what life is all about.
And death

There was the usual Saturday-moming
line at the car wash. A couple of old winos
and other assorted debris from last night's
drinking lay cluttered around the apart-
ment buildings on the block.

Like trees lining the entranceway to
some estate, mounds of green-plastic gar-
bage bags decorated the entrance to the
Kleen-Kwik Kar Wash. In other parts of
the city, garbage piles up when th
tion men go on strike, In Alphabet
it's always there, a municipal monument

At one minute to ten by my watch, I saw
my car pull into the end of the line, and I
saw Benny behind the wheel, with the
snap-brim hat and the sunglasses.

Almost time, I thought. I still hadn't
1 Cletis, but I knew he had to be
around

Benny was now only two car lengths
from the car-wash entrance, so I opened
the gym bag, took out the revolver and
stuck it in my belt, under the jacket. 1
stashed the bag behind a garbage pail and
started strolling down the street to the
Kleen-Kwik

It happened just like I knew it would.
As Benny pulled the car up to the
entrance, the door of another car parked
on the street opened and a gangly, tall
man with straw hair stepped out. He left
the door open and walked toward Benny
in the car. He swallowed it, I thought.
Hook, line, sinker and fishing rod.

"The thin man stopped next to the car
Benny was driving. He put his hands on
the car roof and leaned over to look inside
the passenger's window. 1 remember
thinking it was strange that his hands were
empty; but before he could reach for a
gun, I stepped up behind him and put my
hand on the gun inside my jacket.

“Hello, Charley," I said. “Sorry, but

somebody dropped a dime on you."
I wanted him to turn around, to sce my
e as I shot him. The man turned. It
wasn't Charley Cletis. Somebody else but
not Charley

My hand squeezed the grip of my gun
Hard. The man said, "You Garth?"

I nodded, “Who are you?” I asked. He
looked so much like Charley Cletis

He said, “I’ve got another message for
you. I was told to tell you, ‘Another thing
I like about you, Garth, is that you're so
predictable.”

That’s what he said just now, and I
don't understand it; but I know that if I
have a

Do 1 have a minute? Maybe not. I (ссі

эс

minute or two, I can figure it out

something now against the back of my
neck. It’s hard and it’s cold, and 1 know
what it is. It’s the muzzle of a small gun.

I don't ha
hear a voice, this soft Southern voice, and
it's saying . . . what's it saying? It’s saying:
uhprazz, Ax, ol’ buddy. Si

c time to turn around. I just

ihprazz."

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PLAYBOY

142

BREINIEI

INQUISITION

(continued from page 124)

“She gives me a look. ‘Yeah, I was wearing nothing.
So what? That's what they're paying me for."

But she looks at me tonight like she’s
real шеа and I’m not wanted, and she
tells me I’m letting out the humid air, that
She's never

it's good for her сотрісхісі
said that before, so I stand there another
minute, and she gives me a couple of
scowls.

Then I see these ma
when she turns, long, red
plain but there.

“Wha she says and turns
quick to look over her shoulder in the mir-
ror. She looks for a long time, and she
doesn't say anything

“So what are they?”

“Whip marks."

That's what she says and goes to wrap-
ping up all her hair in the towel, like that's
all that's needed to be said on the subject.

But my interest is pretty damn aroused
by now, and I say, “Who's been whipping
you, 'T.J.?" I call her T.J. a lot of the time,
because her middle name is Juanita. “Is
that what they did today?” I ask her.

1 figure it’s a straightforward enough
question, but she gets angry all of a sud-
den, like I’m asking something dumb, try-
ing her patience. She flings on her robe
and cinches it up tight and pushes past
me. “It didn't hurt,” she says. “It was just
make-believe.”

1 follow her into the bedroom and ask
her, “With or without your shirt on?” 1
have to ask this. It's the next thing to ask

She sits down on the bed and just glares
at me. "What is this?” she s; "Why
you being so suspicious?"

on her back
ines, not real

I say finally.

COMAS,

“Daddy, this is Howie. I met him

“Look,” I tell her. “You haven't told me
square one about this whole damn picture
I sure as hell don't recall you saying any-
thing about being whipped. And I don't
care about that per se. What I care is, was
your shirt on?"

She gives me a litde smirk. “Indians
don't wear shirts.”

I never felt more like hitting her.
“Whatever the hell they wear,” I said,
“were you wearing it?”

She gives me a long, long look. Then she
Yeah, I was wearing what the Indi-
ans wear, which is nothing. So what?
That's what they're paying me for.”

I go around the room swearing, telling
her I don't want her undressing for stran-
gers like that, telling her to give them their
damn money back, that isn’t how I want
her to carn money.

“Aw,” she says finally,
if I show my tits.”

"It is a big deal, T.J.”

“No, it isn't, and I don't like you think-
ing it is. No onc else thinks it is.”

"Look," I say. "What happens when
they make this picture and it starts show-
ing here in Tucson? Think about that.”

But she's too mad to think about it. We
go around and around, and I get hotter
and hotter while she gets colder and
colder.

I leave. I figure if I stay, there'll be a
hell of a mash-out. I drive down to a tav-
ern. I stay there till Pm the only onc left
except for the bartender, and she's à
woman, so I can't talk to her much. What

it's no big deal

in a sports bar."

I tell her is, my lady is in a movie. She
says, "What movie: o 1 tell her, and
she says. “That's kind of funny, because the
Spanish Inquisition happened in
and Indians weren't involved.”

That stays with me. But I'm too tii
think about it. I go home and hit the sofa,
dead as a stump the whole ni
to an empty house. Teresa has slipped
right out without waking me. And first
thing, sitting in the kitchen, thinking with
a clear head, all of a sudden I remember
Victoria telling me how she'd done a skin
movie once, when she needed money
“Simulated,” she called it, not the real
thing. I remember that, and at first it
it has nothing to do with what's happening
now. But then the two things—that and
what the bartender told me—sort of come
together in my head like two pictures laid
over each other.

1 jump up quick and dial Victoria's
number but get no answer, so she's left.
Then I poke around, and first I find a note
saying, ILL BE BACK TONIGHT IF YOU WANT TO
TALK. Then I find it, on the phone pad,
that one word CIROLA, with a number.

So I give a call, and this sweet little
female voice answers and 1 tell her Victo-
ria Leon’s little brother just got hit by
carand's in the hospital, so [ have to get in
touch with her right away. She tells me
there's no way to reach them by phone.
“They're shooting way down at someplace
called Saddleback Mountain. It’s not even
a place. I don't even know where it is.”

“1 do," I say and hop into my pickup
and tear out

Saddleback's a big snaggletooth
, like a cow's molar, about 50 miles
from ‘Tucson, sticking up out of the San
Rafael Valley, which is a wide tongue of
the Mexican grasslands that licks about 20
miles over the border. Down there past
Sonoita, it’s all rolling pasturcland, all
gravel roads, open country where I can let
her out and fly, which is what I do. Every
once in a while, I come to a low-water
bridge, and the road dips and the truck
squishes down, bumper bang
leaps up like it might take offand flip clean
over. But I don't slow down. Pd been all
over that country as a boy and know it like
a cat knows its own rear end. There's not
many people, just cows and coyotes and
wetbacks sneaking around. I sec only one
old geezer, mending a fence, with his
pickup sloped into the ditch, barely off the
road, so I have to hit the brakes and spin
around it. Hestraightens up and gapes and
shakes his head as I go barreling pa

Then 1 see Saddleback off in the dis-
tance, and my sweat goes cold and my
brain goes that way, too, calculating. I
don't have рап опе. I'm not even sure
what I want. It gets tricky. I don't even
know for sure what she's done yet—except
that she's done it behind my back bes
she didn’t think Pd like it. That's all Гус
got to go on, but I'm worried sick she's

ing, and then.

done what Um afraid she's done or is
about to do it or is th ig of doing i
vcn that she might let it happen or might
simulate it to the point where it docsn't
make any difference whether it happens or
not. It all boils down to that. If she's
ing to pretend there's no diflerence, then
there isn't any diflerence, and she knows
it, or else why would she pretend she
wasn't even pretending?

This gets so confi:
to a dead stop, and I sit there trying to fig-
ure it all out. In the first place, I figure Pm
pretty much in love with her. But I’m not
so sure I want to be. I keep secing all these
men, like the men who always watch her
when she's anywhere and always try to
take her away from me, only these men are
sitting in a movie theater, watching her up
n and sa “Don't I know
her? Didn't I see her just last Saturday?” I
think that, and I know the next thing
I think is, If that dude she was with
her do that, he hasn't got any jurisdic-
tion over her. That's the whole problem. I
start moving again. | figure Гуе finally got
my real purpose sorted out.

"There's a fork in the road, and one way
leads right up to the mountain and dead-
ends there in a little arroyo, with cotton-
woods and oaks along the wet-weather
creek and big rocks and sand holes. It
looks like a Western-movie set, so | figure
that's where they'll be, and they are. I
drive up and there's a herd of vehicles
gathered—a U-Haul truck, a Winnebago
so big you'd think they had to airdrop it, a
couple of pickups and one bright-red little
sports job.

E pull in just short of them and get out.
It’s one of those clear, hot days with the air
so dry and thin, you wonder il
breathing anything. [t makes me feel giddy.
1 can feel my stomach spinning around like
it wants me to forget the whole deal.

But | go crunching up that brown-
gravel road, and then the big guy steps out
of the Winnebago. I might've figured
they'd have a watchdog, that I'd have to
take care of him first.

He's about as big as the motor home,
built like a beer keg, with his head like a
little beer mug set on top. Yellow curly
hair like foam, two piggy little eyes and a
smirk.

“You must be lost, pa
found the wrong place."

“Not me,” I say. "I'm not lost.”

“Well, maybe you'd better get lost. This
is a private party.

1 go on back to my truck and jump in
and drive up to where he's still standing
there and lean over and tell him I'm just
turning around. He gives me a curt little
nod.

1 let the truck roll on past him. I'm still
leaning over on the seat, and before 1
straighten up. І pop open my glove box
and take my gun out and lay it on the scat,

1 Magnum witha
inch barrel and walnut grips, all blue-
black steel. If you don't hold it right when

; the truck comes

* he says. "And

it goes off, ivll kick up and plant a nasty
bruisc into that webbing between thumb,
and forefinger. I found that out the first
time I fired it.

By the time I get back to him, I’ve got it
right up against my leg, with my finger on
the trigger, and I stop the truck again and
smile at him.

Sure you don't want a little com-

pan:

No chance.”
‘What if my friend here wants to talk it
over with you?”

There's one thing about pointing a gun
at someone like that. You know if you ever
stop pointing it at him, you'd better put a
heap of territory between him and yourself
P.D.Q., because it's the same as telling
him he ain't so tough when tough’s the
only thing he's got. I can sec it in his
eyes.

“Your friend's a lot bigger than you are,
runt,” he says. “And he's bought you
plenty of trouble.”

I get out and have him pull up his shirt
to prove he doesn't have a weapon. I don't
let him within ten feet of me. If there's one
thing I learned watching movies, it's that
the guy with the gun always stands too
close to the guy who doesn't have one. 1
have him walk ahead, and we start up into.
the arroyo.

You could say it’s a scenic little hike.
About a quarter mile. A four-by-four
could maybe make it, and I think if these
guys have a jeep or somcthing up there,
ГИ heist it.

This big fella keeps talking to me.
“You're biting off a pretty big wad, pal,”
he says. “What the hell you want up
here?"

I tell him to keep quiet and stop calling
me pal.

There's a little stand of desert willows
and beyond that an old adobe homestcad
all crumbled down, and beyond that is
where they are, We go around the side of
the old house and catch them by surprise.

This next part, it’s like when you're ex-
pecting something and then it happens
and it still surprises you. It's like when we
used to say somebody would get caught
sometime in the blast area down in the
mine. You carry these two pictures of it
around in your head. One is of what you
want it to look like and the other is sort
of what you know it will look like. Then,
when you actually see it, it’s not at all
like what you were expecting, and it’s not
like what you wanted it to be, It’s some-
how different, kind of like a dream; not
exactly a surprise, but all the ways of deal-
ing with it you thought you had figured
out ahead of time sort of leave you.
well as I can tell about it, so
e's nothing else to tell except the truth,
which is that they’re all there, and she is,
too, she and Victoria and two other girls.
None of them has any clothes on at all. I
see them, and the feclings going on in-
side me all stand up together like it was a
fire drill. And then, for a minute, a big

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PLAYBOY

144

ache swallows up everything inside me
and makes mc hollow, and I can't even
breathe. There aren't any lungs left.

All around, there's men; that's what
gets me. There's men with cameras on
their shoulders and men with earphones
and some holding big sheets of aluminum,
for some reason, and some men doing
nothing but standing around. [ mean,
there's a couple more women, too, but
mostly it’s men. And there's a bunch of.
them, a half dozen or so, wearing shiny,
Spanish-style armor and those helmets
with bright-red plumes coming out the

top.

"They all see the gun first, There's the
same general look on everybody's face.
"These two other naked girls try to cover
themselves, like they've suddenly got mod-
esty. 1 don't really see this, though, be-
cause I'm just looking at Teresa, and she's
looking at me like she's seeing a ghost.
Then, I don't know, maybe for a second
she feels what I'm feeling, because there's
a sad look comes into her eyes, and her
arms fold up like she's ashamed, too. But
then she passes on through that, Mad
comes into her eyes, and her hands end up
on her hips.

“Larry, you asshole bastard,” she says.

1 try to say something and find out my
mouth has quit operating. It’s the strang-
cst thing: For a moment, nothing at all
happens, like they're all just waiting to see
what PII do next.

Then there's this one guy, in a HAWAN
FIVE-O shirt, and he shouts, “Who is this
guy? What the hell’s he doing on my
зер”

He's wearing tan shorts and black cow-
boy boots and a cowboy hat, like he's
Howdy Doody, a real dandy with feathers
stuck in his hatband and big bladc sun-
glasses over his eyes. 1 feel like ignoring
him right away.

“TJ.” 1 say, mild as I can. “Get your
clothes on.”

“Hey!” the leader says, snappish, like a.
little dog.

“Get your clothes on,” I tell her
“You, too, Victoria.”

Victoria has been standing there, giving
me a tired frown; but when I say this, she
only shrugs and starts over to where
there's a little camp table set up. Teresa,
though, she doesn’t move. She just glares
at me. “Why?” she says, real scornfully.

Her hair's all tangled and her fect are
set apart, and her skin's just glistening,
and she's breathing hard, with her nostri
flared and her eyes flashing at mc. She's so
beautiful in that moment, these guys all
look at her. And I don't know what to do.
I just stand there. For a second, which
seems like an hour, nothing happens. Buz-
zards make slow circles way up in the blue
sky over Saddleback Mountain. Some-
thing goes tick-tick-tick-tick off in the
trecs. I fecl a little ribbon of sweat slip
down the side of my face.
ally, without knowing I’m going to, I
Because I love you, honey.”

But still she stands there, She looks like
some wild animal that's been cornered
and won't give in yet, not without a fight.
Then Victoria comes back, and she's got
their clothes in a bundle and she says,
“Come on, Teresa. I’m telling you.”

Teresa looks at me for another second,
which lasts an hour. Then, finally, like
what she's really doing is agreeing to
fistfight me, she says, “All right.”

Things happen fast then. There's a
general attitude among everybody else
that I ought to have my gun taken away
from me. But nobody's sure of how to
start. The big guy's puffing and swearing.
Howdy Doody wants to know who the hell
I am, and he starts screaming at me that
I'm a madman, walking in there and inter-
rupting his movie ally, Victoria tells
him I’m Teresa’s husband. It's sort of the
answer to everything. “That's all I need,”
he says. “A husband.”

So we head down the trail. “Don't try
following,” I yell back at them. “There's
nothing Pd like better than to shoot a few
of you assholes.” I'm feeling pretty cocky.
But when we get to the truck, I get it roll-
ing P.D.Q.

Then I don't feel cocky anymore.

It gets quiet and stays quict for half the
drive back, until I try telling her she’s vio-
lated my trust.

She's sitting between Victoria and me,
and she says, “Oh, yeah. You two want to
talk about trust?”

I take a look over at Victoria. She
smokes her cigarette and won't look at
me.

“Yeah, she told me,” Teresa says. “Вс-
cause she couldn't keep it behind my back,
like you.”

“Men and women are different,” I try
telling her.

“Yeah,” she says. “You're different, all
right. You're a two-faced, self-serving son
of a bitch.”

“Yeah?” I say. “And so’s every damn
male human being in the world, then, and
that’s the whole problem. You've got to
beware of us every damn minute of the
time.”

“Amen to that, brother,” she says.

“So why do you want to show yourself
off like that? Just for the money?”

But she won't say anymore, so I won't,
either. It’s a standoff, both of us saving our
ammunition.

We have our talk-out when we get home,
sitting at the kitchen table with a bottle of
Scotch between us. “It wasn’t the money,
was it?” I say. “T.J., how in the world
could you do something like that?”

She looks at me across the table. She’s
still plenty roughed up, but then she gives
a shake to her head and looks me square in
the eye and says, “It was the safest I ever
felt.”

Then she gets a look like something just
occurred to her and, all of a sudden, she’s
not so mad anymore. “It’s something,”
she says. “There’ve always been men who
looked at me like I was naked in their

minds. Thats what's scary. This was
embarrassing at first, but it wasn't scary.
Alter about a minute, I felt morc normal
than I ever did with my clothes on. Docs
that make any sense!

I don't say anything to that, because
right then, I’m afraid that things can never
be the same between us. I'm not mad any-
more, either, only hurt and ashamed, like
it had happened to me instead of her. It's
like a switch thrown to another circuit. A
whole flood comes rushing up, real tcars,
and it rims out right even with my lower
eyelids and teeters there and then starts
spilling over.

Т.Ј. looks at me like I've got ants all
over my face. Then she says, “Aw, honcy,
don't cry. Sweetheart. Baby, I’m still all
yours.” She comes around behind my
chair and puts her arms around me. She
wraps her arms around my head like a
bandage. I can smell the make-up and
dust and her sweat. Her skin’s hot on her
neck, and her breath's hot. I want right
then, in spite of everything that’s hap-
pened, just to take her into the bedroom
and love her like there's no tomorrow. She
knows it, too. I feel her mouth press i
the top of my head. She starts tugging at
my hair with her tecth. Then she comes
around and sits in my lap, and then I can't
even remember what І was thinking
before. It’s not a truce, it’s just a plain lay-
down of all weapons.

So pretty soon, we're in the bedroom. At
first, Pm worried that it might be different,
that she'll be changed. But it’s not so, until
we're in the middle of it, when I take a
breather and she says for me to speak
Spanish.

“Say everything you know,” she whis-
pers to me. “Speak Spanish to me.”

So I say, “Esto es para las chiquitas,”
h sort of means, “This is for pretty
girls,” and Teresa says, “Más, más, que me
estoy calentando mucho,” because she
knows Spanish like a Mexican,

So I go on, saying everything I can think
of. I start getting into it. I start getting the
accents right, I start putting some color
into it. Finally, I'm saying the same thing
over and over, but it doesn't matter. I just
keep saying it until we’re through.

Then we're lying there, and I'm won-
dering which one of those Spaniards it was
she turned me into but thinking maybe it
wasn't so bad, when all at once Teresa
says, “We'll have to go see it when it comes
to town.”

“Sce what?” I say. Then I know, and
my heart takes a leap.

“The Spanish Inquisition,” she says.
“We'll look for it when it comes. We'll see
if they kept me in it, The scene where Pm
whipped."

k about this. I picture it. 1 know a
not the same as the real thing. 105
sc. Men will sce her up on the screen,
then they'll see her in real life and they'll
think things. I start thinking then how ТЇЇ
have to be ready.

LEXANDER JULIAN

(continued from page 109)
should cheap out. “If you don't have the
money to buy a complete wardrobe, then
one good suit is better than five mediocre
ones.” For the young man entering the
business world, a wise investment would
be a gray or blue suit that has a slight pat-

tern and a touch of accent color. (“Don't

be too basic. It's not surprising that in-
teresting clothes and interesting people are
often found together.”) He also recom-
mends purchasing a “great tweed sports
coat” that’s not too colorful. That way, the
wearer has the option of wearing it for
cither a dressy or a sporty occasion.
“Clothes can be a catalyst for a person-
ality change. I've seen it happen dozens of
times in the years Гус spent making per-
sonal appearances in stores around the
country. A guy who has worn only white
rts and navy jackets puts on something
and begins to feel
па that’s always

great for his sex

On the subject of power suits, Julian
feels that “clothing should be enhancing
rather than intimidating. I always try to
build something extra into my business
suits to keep them from being boring. It
may be a hidden pattern or a subtle twist
of color that is really noticeable only to the
wearer, There's a subliminal message of.
strength that comes across to others.”

Spotting Alexander Julian on the strect
is never difficult. Despite his neatly
trimmed reddish beard, he the man
wearing the clashing patterns and oflb
color combinations. Unlike many of his
counterparts, Julian takes his personal
wardrobe directly from his line of clothes
And he never advises a customer to com-
bine patterns, textures and colors in a way
that Julian wouldn't himself.

“People like to be challenged by my
fashion cece . I wear a lot of pat-
terns together, because the idea of two
solid colors worn at the same time makes
me cringe. | wear only clothes that I hon-
estly love. Boating shoes without socks
were a real idiosyncrasy of mine until too
many people started wearing them. I wear
clothes to be comfortable—voluminous
linen shirts, sweaters tied around the
waist, beat-up flannels. I really like to use
clothes. Most of my things are rags.”

As one of the
men's-fashion designers (he has won the

ation's most successful

being able to declare what is and what is
not good taste, regardless of personal

quirks. His advice to those who would be
well dressed: “The key clement is not to
take yourself too seriously. You can wear
anything as long as you know yourself.”
Julian, we like the way you think.

DREAM SORTS

(continued from page 68)
into the saloon of a Swan for the first time
is rather like climbing into the back seat of
a Rolls-Royce. It looks good, it smells
good, it feels good. This is an interior that
was pul together by craftsmen, with metic-
ulous attention to finish and detail, and
not just crudely banged into shape by a
gang with power tools. The saloon itself is
huge, with seating for cight around a teak
drop-leaf table and panels of hand-rubbed
teak. All the wood, from stem to stern, has
a soft satin finish that brings out the deep
gold of teak's grain.

Forward of the saloon are a shower/
head and the forward cabin, or fo'c'sle,
with two folding berths and capacious
stowage underneath for sails and other
gear. At the afterend of the saloon are a
fully equipped galley and the navigation
station, with chart table, control panel,
instruments, gauges and communications.
There's a second shower/head aft of the
navigation station and, beyond that, the
owner's stateroom, with double berth and
settees on either side. Here, as throughout
the boat, abundant light is provided by
ports and hatches—and these, like every-
thing else aboard, are built of strong and
durable materials for long life and hard

| schoo. or

BARTENDING |

usage. In short, Swans combine two vir-
tues that are rarely found together: cle-
gance and rugged strength.

As a Swan owner, you can compete in
the Robert Swan Atlantic Regatta at New-
port, Rhode Island, or at the Robert Swan
World Cup in Porto Cervo, Sardinia. Or
you can enter the quadrennial Whitbread
Round the World Race (a Swan 65 won
the first Whitbread in 1973-1974), com-
pete in the Southern Ocean Racing Con-
ference series in south Florida (better
known as the S.O.R.C.) or enter any опе
of dozens of ocean races, from the Sydney-

Hobart Race to Antigua Race Weck. And
compete with a strong chance of winning,

because that’s what Swans have built their
ame on: coming in first. Our Swan 43, a
Ron Holland de was provided by
Nautor Swan of Miami and is delivered i
sail-away condition on the East Coast for
around $340,000. For those who'd sooner
take delivery at the source in Pietarsaari,
Finland, and bring it home themselves, the
check comes to $320,000 or thereabouts.
Anyone who says that money can't buy
happiness has never owned a Swan—
come to think of it, is something
n be said about any boat, be it ever.

so humble.

145

PLAYBOY

REINCARDATIORN count fom page 120)

“Yulüs Ruvál is probably one of the most unusual
names to grace a marquee since Schwarzenegger’s.”

name? I like to flatter her and make her
happy." Müllers grandmother didn't
ave the most common of names, even for
ench-Norwegian. In fact, Yuliis Ruvál
(pronounced You-lease Roo-val) is proba-
bly one of the most unusual names to
grace a marquee since Arnold Schwar-
zenegger's. While Müller is still Lillian's
legal name, all her acting is now done
Yuliis Ruvál. “I know it's an unu:
name, but I consider myself very unusual
and it kind of fits the package.”

"The new name certainly hasn't been a
hindrance. She estimates she has guested
on more than 25 TV shows since she
returned to the U.S. three years ago;
among them, Remington Steele, Crazy Like
a Fox and Magnum, P.L, as well as such
movies as King of the Mountain, The Devil
and Max Devlin and Stewardess School.

Olivia De Berardinis has taken an
equally circuitous route to success. She
showed an aptitude for erotic art at the
precocious age of nine, when she drew her

own version of LeRoy Neiman's Femlin
alter seeing her father's copies of rıavnov.
Her parents, by her own description, were
a somewhat eccentric, lusty, fun-loving
couple who “got a big giggle out of sex.”
Around the house, risqué jokes were told
with abandon. Not surprisingly, her father
prized his daughter's Femlin sketch. It was
almost preordained that De Berardinis go
to art school; there she put aside eroticism
and experimented with more conventional
types of art. Eventually, however, she real-
ized she would never be able to make a liv-
ing in fine art and returned to drawing
pinups. The experience taught her an
important lesson: “You shouldn’t fool with
something that comes naturally

At first, her work showed a hard-core
eroticism appropriate only for some of the
more explicit men's magazines. “That was
fun to do for a while,” she says. “The
country was more liberated then." How-
ever, the more she painted, the softer and
sexier her images became. “I realized that

clothes and lingerie suggested so much
more than explicit nudity did." Her popu-
larity grew as her work became more
mainstream. A series of posters done for a
New York radio station, imagining the fan-
tasies such mu: ms as Linda Ronstadt
and Rod Stewart might have, were ripped
out of the subways soon after they
appeared—all 10,000 of them. She also
did a movie poster for Bo Derel атап
and started a successful line of greeting
cards (for a catalog of Olivia's works,
including the cards, a calendar and other
reproductions, send two dollars to O Card
Corp., P.O. Box 541, Midtown Station,
New York, New York 10018).

Many enthusiasts consider her the quin-
tessential pinup artist working today, and
she's the first woman to carn such an acco-
lade. But for De Berardinis, being a
woman and an crotic artist is a logical
combination. “Women are always |
at other women. It’s very natural
says. “I have trouble drawing a man in an
-" Still, when people meet
her in her New York studio, they expect
the artist to be as uninhibited as her art.
“If I were like that, I wouldn't have time
to paint,” she laughs. “I guess some peo-
ple think, others do.”

Joel Beren, her husband and manager
for the past seven years, agrees. “We're
homebodies, lea
Olivia’s a workaholic, seven days a week,
15 hours a day."

Lillian Müller doesn't travel on the fast
track, either, “I don't drink, I don't
smoke, I don't do any drugs,” she reports.
“1 go to my little healthy places to cat,
because I'm a vegetarian, and I don't go
to parties or premieres. You don't actually
get work by hanging out—you get it by
doing a good job.

Right now, Müller is concentra
movie roles. “I’m a bit
she says. “It’s not creative enough." She's
1 avid moviegocr—her list of favorite
directors and stars reads like the Beverly
Hills telephone book—and she continues
to take acting and singing lessons. Her
appearance in PLAYBOY is part of her spe-
cific career planning. “It's not enough for
me to marry a rich man and have a great
social life, with a Rolls-Royce and a man-
sion,” she say ve to make the most
of my talent. I want some quality in my
life, and I think I can combine being a
nbol with being a serious actress.

erotic posi

nd it was a

layout, like a piece of art.
privilege to work with Olivia.

As De Berardinis watched this layout
take shape, she was surprised. “I felt so
strange,” she explains. “I deal so much i
fantasy, making things curve the way I
want them to. Suddenly, I was watching
my two-dimei nal fantasies come to life
It was amazing and sort of cerie.”

ROGER MALTBIE

(continued from page 110)
do it for a living. Fresh air, cut grass . .
golf balls. Somebody carries your bag. Not
only that, my caddic's name is Shitty. I get
paid to be on the Michelob Advisory Staff;
1 get paid for wearing Aurcus shirts. And
what I do for that is play golf, which is
something Гуе done since I was about ten
years old, anyway, for free
“Im making some money now, but
there were years when I didn’t. Nine tho
sand, 12,000 dollars. You don’t break even
out there until you make $65,000 or
$70,000. But even when the ball wasn't
going into the cup, when I was frustrated
and playing below what I could play, it
was still golf. I was happy then without

money; I'm happy now that things are
going better... .”
T leaned closer, so he could see my eyes.

“Roger,” I said.
happy, too?”

Roger sighed. “All right,” he said, “PH
tell you about the house. We found this
place a few months ago, out in Los Gatos,
kind of set back from the road. Four bed-
rooms; my wife loved it right away. And
it’s reasonable. We paid about $250,000,
which isn’t а lot of money for something
out there, and moved in. And the day we
walked in the door, there was a dark spot
on the rug in the den where there wasn't a
dark spot before
It turns out there's a problem with un-
derground water; we might have floor rot.
Nobody’s been under there yet to see how
bad it is. There's going to be lawyers in it
and real-estate people and banks.”

s soon as I saw the spot on the rug, I
un to feel that this was going to work
out after all. It was big and it was wet and
it was fresh. Golfers, of course, cannot
swing with people standing behind them;
they cannot putt while anything is moving
Roger not only had lawyers and г
people and banks in his life now, he had—
if I know anything about houses and mar-
riage—lost his conjugal rights.

And if a man cannot concentrate on a
motionless white ball on a green back-
ground because somewhere an airplane is
crossing the sky, how can he concentrate
knowing his life isn't going to be worth liv-
ing for the 11 years minimum it's going to
take to get this settled?

1 said, “Horrible, just horrible.”

But then Donna Maltbie came into the
room, and we were right back where we
started. First of all, this woman was sup-
posed to be from somewhere around
Moline, Illinois—I knew this from talking
with Roger. I have been to Moline a lot of
times, however, and have never seen any-
thing resembling Mrs. Maltbie.

I mcan, there was no bcard or any-
thing

1 found myself staring at her
much because she w
enough of a word,

would you like me to be

not so
s pretty, which isn’t
nyway, but try!

figure out what kind of fairy dust they
sprinkled over Roger Malthie that he
rolled into one end of Moline, Illinois, and
came out the other end with this woman
instead of, say, a rash.

Second, there was something in Mrs
Maltbie that was missing in Roger. Some-
thing practical. I don’t mean this in an
insulting way, but the truth is, left without
outside influences, Roger would look at
the spot on the rug every moming for the
rest of his life, wonder if it was blood from
the night before and forget it was there by
afternoon.

"The truth is, Roger without outside in-
fluences is the guy you would sell your
underground-water problems to. Roger
married to Donna, however, is a different
proposition.

He fixed some drinks and we all sat out
оп the patio. There were still people mov-
ing around inside. “House guests,” Donna
said. “Friends come in from out of town,
Roger invites them over and sometimes
they stay for months, When we first got the
place, there were people in sleeping bags
in the halls."

Roger smiled and drank Scotch
hat's the way Roger's always been,”
she said. And you could see she wasn't try:
ing to change that. Mrs. Maltbie was
going to have somebody's nuts on the gas
grill before the underground-water busi-
ness was settled, but they weren't going to
be Roger's. She was practical and, at the
same timc, working in Roger's interests.

Take my word for it, that cannot be
easy.

“Donna follows me almost every round
1 play,” he said. “She doesn't understand
the mechanics of the swing—I mean, she
can't tell me Pm doing this or that. But
she can pick me up with a couple of words,

or she can kick me in the ass. ... She
keeps my mind on what Im doing.”
.

It wasn't always like that, of course.

Back in 1975, when he was 24 years old
and new on the tour, Roger didn't need
anybody to pick him up and he didn’t
need anybody to kick him in the ass. He
was the P.G.A.'s rookie of the year and,
early on, in the space of two weeks, he won
tournaments back to back.

After the second win, played at Pleasant
Valley, just outside Boston, Maltbie wan-
dered into T. O. Flynn's tavern in Worces-
ter, where he took everything out of his
pockets—money, keys, lint, everything—
and laid it all on the bar to make sure
nobody else could buy a drink

“I woke up the next morning,” he said,
"and sat up, thinking, Lord, don't let this
be me inside this headache, and put my
face in my hands before 1 opened my eyes.
1 started out just looking for my feet. I
couldn't see them; or maybe 1 could see
them, but they didn’t look familiar. The
light was unnatural—you know what I
mean? I closed my eyes, trying to remem-
ber what I'd done. 1 needed a cigarette.

“I found my pants on the floor and

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PLAYBOY

148

reached into the front pockets. They were
wet and cold and empty. I checked the
back pockets and then my wallet and then
my shirt. Nota nickel. I thought, Well, you
must have had a good time; then I remem-
bered the check, and that was gone, too.

“Forty thousand dollars. I called up the
bar and said, Listen, you didn't happen to
nd а check on the floor while you were
sweeping up, did you?"

“No, but the guy said he'd keep an eye
out for

“Then I called the tournament and
asked if I could have another onc. They
did that, and Cuz Mingolla lent me a cou-
ple of hundred dollars so I could get to the
next stop. Meanwhile, somebody found
the check in the sawdust. He called and
told me, but I already had a new one com-
ing, so I said, "Why don't you just keep it
for a souvenir?”

That was ten ycars ago. There was
another win the next year, and then Roger
went cold. “The way it was belore," he
said, “I'd play a bad round or a bad tour-
nament and it wouldn't bother me. I
always knew Га play better tomorrow. But
somewhere in there, I began to get frus-
trated. Instead of knowing I'd play better,
Pd begin to think I had to play better.

“I worked harder and harder at it; I
pressed all the time. Seventy-eight, 779,
"80, those were the worst years. Without
realizing it, І quit having fun. On the
course, | mean. I was still the same per-
son; I never was ungrateful to be playing
golf for a living. But let me tell you, one
day, in a tournament, I actually shot a 92

And I posted it, I didn't withdraw or get
myself disqualified; I signed the score
card. I said, ‘I shot it, ГИ sign it."

“And it wasn't too long after that I went
and talked with this sports psychologist at
the University of Virginia. He thought I'd
forgotten how to have fun. I said, ‘You
know who I am? He suggested that I
ought to try to remember how it felt when
Pd just got on the tour, when I'd go out
and have a good time playing. And it was
that simple. Once I started thinking of it
like that, I began to play again."

But back to Perdido Bay.

The caddie pulls the ball out of the
waste-water effluent and cleans it off.
Roger drops it on the other side of the
pond and hits an iron through some trees
to about 40 yards in front of the green

Somebody in the crowd says, “Good
shot." Roger smiles. Even though he is all
over the course today and is not having as
good a time as the sports psychologist at
the University of Virginia would like, h
takes a certain happiness in the act of hit-
ting the golf ball.

He is, first of all, a natural athlete—
something that is not as common on the
P.G.A. tour as you might think. His swing
is uncluttered, his weight moves by itself
through the ball, the club hcad follows it.
And in that moment—free of physical
tractions—there is a fresh start. An ex-
pectation. Which is at the heart of fun, or
nobody would ever be stupid enough to
get into a car and drive thc family to the
Grand Canyon on a vacation

"Stop the presses!"

And the fact that Roger's expectations
are turning bad today does notscem to get in
the way of his enthusiasm for theafiernoon.
Atleast that’s the way it looks to me.

Archic—you remember Archic—sees it
another way. He shakes his head and
brushes at the smoke coming from his
pants leg. A piece of the cull falls off.
“That fella’s in a lot of trouble,” he says.

“What's the worst thing that can hap-
pen?” I ask him. “It was the caddie who
stuck his hand in the water.”

“Mental,” he says and taps himself on
the head. “He could take a seven on the
hole. He could miss the cut.”

(Which is, in fact, what happens. Roger
takes a seven and shoots a 74, leaving him
with a 36-hole total of 142. That is even
par, and that is one shot too many.)

As Lam leaving the green, Archie lights
a fresh cigar and smiles an awful bl
gummed smile. “I told you.” he says.

And an hour later, Roger walks off the
18th green, shaking his head. He says, “
have been invaded by a forcign body,
it’s bothering him more than that

Task him if it was the substitute caddie,
or his wife’s being in Chicago, or the wet
spot on the rug back in Los Gatos, or if the
magazine had jinxed him.

“I don't know what it was," he says,
“but it’s embarrassing, being all over the
course like I was. I don’t like playing that
way, because I can play better.”

I ask Roger how long today will be on
his mind. “Until 1 play better,” he says.

And that is a germ that can grow difler-
ent ways, of course, but it is at the heart of
anything serious. And you've got to ap-
preciate it in Roger. Whether it's a
nine-year fuck-up or $351,000 by August,
drunk, sober, married or single, it docsn't.
matter if there's a swamp growing under
his house—whatever Roger Maltbic is
doing, he's doing it all the way

And one more thing.

A couple of hours later, 1 walked into a
place called the Flora-Bama, which sits on
the state line between Florida and Ala-
bama. and asked the bartender for some-
thing to drink.

And while 1 was waiting, I happened to
notice a brass plate fitted into the walnut
bar over the garbage can. I asked onc of
the waitresses what it was for
here’s а guy named Roger,” she said
“Everybody loves him, and last year he
came in here and drank so much, he fell
into the garbage can and couldn’t get out.
Go look for yourself.”

And so I did.

It said, ROGER MALTBIE'S
AWARDED ANNUALLY.

And so, in the end, I am afraid the com-
fort of the Roger Maltbie story isn't what
we sct out to find a long time ago, alone in
a bathtub.

Roger isn't one of us, he's better.

The heartening part is that everybody
loves him anyway.

` but

TRASH CAN,

JACKIE GLEASON continued fron page 58)

“Hugo looked at the check, went over to a telephone,
dialed a number and said, “Hello, Juilliard? Fuck you!"

They were asked questions, and you had
to guess what they were,

Halfway through the show, I knew we
were going into the ground. I said, “The
only thing that would help this show is if
we shut the holes up.” It was a bomb. I told
the execs that I was going on the next week
to apologize. They said, “You can't do
that! This is a network; we never apolo-
gize!" I got one exec on my side, and he
talked them into letting me do it. And
when I did it, of course, it got great critical
acclaim. Nobody'd done that before.
PLAYBOY: Let's talk about your ama:
and generally overlooked—recording ca-
reer. The Jackie Gleason Orchestra sold
millions of LPs full of what might be
called syrupy strings. What was their
appeal?

GLEASON: Well, they were syrupy. We had
one of the best orchestras you could get. I
wouldn't hire people unless they were the
top guys, and we'd have a lot of fun. But
we didn't fool around with the melody; the
melody was the main thing. I wouldn't
have strings do big sweeps that agitated
the melodies. It turned out to be very
romantic music.

PLAYBOY: We suspect that you had ulterior
motive
GLEASON: Well, it helped the guy who had
a dame and wanted to have that atmos-
phere you'd sce in motion pictures. You
know, in pictures, a guy’s talking to a
dame, and then the music sncaks in and
everything is magnified. My records
proved it works for guys in Brooklyn, too.
PLAYBOY: You actually arranged the
music?

GLEASON: No, I did the complexion of the
arrangements. I would tell the arranger
how I wanted the music to sound. For
instance, when I wrote Lover's Rhapsody,
which was the first opera I did. I would
tell the guy where I wanted to hear the
sound of heels clicking as the hooker
walked down the street.

PLAYBOY: Let’s get this straight: Your ro-
mantic albums were mainly standard pop-
ular tunes. When did you write operas?
GLEASON: Lover's Rhapsody was for televi-
sion, as was Tawny, which was a ballet and
a symphonic theme, and it got great no-
tices. By the way, that was when you had to
use clout. As soon as a network hears that
a comedian is putting on a ballet and he’s
ig the music, it gets very nervous.
ough to imagine. Did the seri-
‘ous music do well with the average guy?
GLEASON: Yeah. All the albums were best
sellers. I had three albums on the charts at
the same time. Гус got a great story about
that. 1 was sitting at Toots's bar with the

classical conductor Hugo Winterhalter,
and Dick Jones, who produced the rec-
ords, walked in and threw a check onto the
table. It was the royalties for two months,
something like $50,000. Hugo looked at
the check, went over to a telephone, dialed
a number and said, “Hello, Juilliard?
Fuck you!”

PLAYBOY: Didn’t Salvador Dali have a
hand in the packaging of one Gleason
Orchestra album?

GLEASON: He did something for me that
he's never done for anybody else. I an
album called Lonesome Echo. 1 was sitting
with him at El Morocco in New York, and
we were both stiff. I said to him, as a joke,
“How about painting a cover for the
album?" And he said, “Certainl: And
he did. We have the ori
beautiful. We're very good friends. He
used to саггу:а cane; he'd pull a sword out
of it and wave it around. I once asked him
why he wore that curly mustache. He said,
“They're antennae. I get messages coming
in!” I knew then he was my kind of guy.
PLAYBOY: Another interesting fact is that
you wrote two of the most famous songs in
TV history—your theme song, Melancholy
Serenade, and the Honeymooners theme.
How did they come about?

GLEASON: On The Honeymooners, we uscd
to play Our Love Is Here to Stay at the end
of the show, when I'd start to apologize to
Ales: Finally, 1 decided I might as well
a theme, since I'm a member of
ASCAP. And with the variety show, we
had to have a theme song. I wanted some-
thing that had a tremendous burst of
“Now it's gonna happen." I also wanted
nostalgia inside the melody. And when
they hit those tymps, the music would say
it was a big opening for the show.
PLAYBOY: Then the camera would pan
across the Miami water and the girls
would come out "
GLEASON: The girls—that was the best
part. We made sure I never lacked for an
opening.

PLAYBOY: Onc last musical question: We
understand that you take full credit for
giving Elvis Presley his first big break.
Care to share the details?

GLEASON: I don't take full credit. He just
showed up on our program before he
showed up on anybody else's. I was pro-
ducing our summer replacement show,
starring Tommy and Jimmy Dorsey. I was
sitting in my office, and Jack Philbin
handed me a picture of him, 1 looked at
the picture and said, “Can he make any
noise at all?” They played me that record,
il Right, Mama, and I said, “N
him.” So we put him on. It didn't take

much foresight; all you had to do was look
at the picture and you knew that here
comes a big one.

Anyway, we had him on several times

and he was doing great. Then Tommy and
Jimmy got a little angry because it was
turning into the Elvis Presley show and,
since they were good friends of mine, I had
to let him
PLAYBOY: We hear he got work. About the
Fifties: Were any ol your people ever the
targets of McCarthy's anti-Communist
witch-hunts?
GLEASON: There was a guy who owned a
supermarket chain, and he was putting
everybody on this list. CBS, NBC and
ABC were all kowtowing to this guy; they
were scared to death of him. He was going
around to all shows— aesar's, [Mil-
ton] Berle's, any show that he thought had
a Red on its staff. He had this power
because he owned these supermarkets and
wouldn't accept the sponsors’ products in
his stores.

He finally came up to see me and said
that] had a writer on the show who was a
Commie and I was to get rid of him. So I
called everybody on the staff down into the
main room of the offices, where 1 had this
supermarket guy, and I said, “You're now
going to sce me throw a son of a bitch out
the door!” And I threw him out.

PLAYBOY: You've never received an Emmy
award for your television accomplish-
ments—a fact many pcople find astound-
ing. What would you trade for one?
GLEASON: Absolutely nothing. 105 a joke
now. I wouldn't trade for any award. They
really don’t mean anything. Think of some
of the people who won these awards—
people you've never seen again! The only
time I was nominated, Danny Thomas
won. At least, Audrey, Art and June Tay-
lor won them.

PLAYBOY: You've been known to say you
don't think you have а “motion-picture
personality." How do you figure that?
GLEASON: No, I don't, I can be interesting.
in a picture through my acting, but I don’t
have the personality that would lead a pic-
ture—unless it was a comedy and it fit
me.

PLAYBOY: One exception may be the 1962
film Gigot, the Chaplinesque talc about a
deafmute Parisian janitor. That,
understand, was your favorite perform-
ancc. What did you achicve therc that you
haven't in other roles?

GLEASON: Well, Gigot really fit me. First of
all, my performance was all pantomime.
Expressing yourselfin pantomime is a hell
of a lot more difficult than if you use
words. So it was an achievement. Plus, 1
wrote the story and the musical score for
the picture. It was a ham actor’s dream, a
nice ego trip. And it got very good critical
acclaim. I'm proud of that.

PLAYBOY: Some cri complained, though,
that it was a little heavy-handed in the
pathos department

GLEASON: Comedy without pathos is like

149

PLAYBOY

150

sitting down to a meal without bread.
PLAYBOY: Not everybody needs that much
bread with his meals.

GLEASON: i do. Pathos is a very important
comedic element. It's a strange thing, too,
that all good comedians can make an
audience cry, with the exception of one of
the greatest—Groucho Marx. His charac-
ter didn’t lend itself to it; I don’t know
whether or not he even wanted to do it.
PLAYBOY: That reminds us: In 1968, you
persuaded Groucho to join you as a cast
member in Otto Preminger’s appropri-
ately titled stinker Skidoo. Did he ever for-
give you?

GLEASON: [Wisifully] It might've taken
him a while. I got Groucho to play God in
the picture. They were looking for some-
body and I suggested Groucho. They
leaped. So I called him up and he said, “I
don't want to work.” I said, ime on, it’s
only a couple of days—we'll have some
fun!” George Raft, Mickey Rooney and
Peter Lawford were also in the cast. So
Groucho agreed. Then, right after he got
on the picture, Preminger started in on
him, giving hima hard time. And Groucho
was old and feeble. Preminger, what a son
of a bitch!

Right at the beginning of shooting,
ger started berating Frank
lon, who was in the cast, and, Christ, it
was just terrible to see. Very embarrass-
ing. So when that was over, I said, “Otto,
come here." I said [stage whispers], “If you
ever talk to me like that, I will hit you over
the head with а fuckin’ chair! Just remem-
ber.” From then on, he was as gentle as
the rain with me.

‘The picture turned out to be the great-
est meatball that was ever made! Coming
out of the theater after the premiere, I told
Preminger, “I hope your hair falls out!”
[Preminger, of course, was already a cue
ball.—Ed.] And the strange thing is that,
in one San Francisco theater, Skidoo
played for years. I guess audiences went in
there to masturbate or something, because
they certainly couldn't have been looking
at the picture.

Jesus, if you want to hear picture stories,
here's the greatest one in the world: John
Huston is directing the picture about the
whale, Moby Dick. They're on location in
this little village, where all the natives
know everything that’s going on. They
hear that Huston needs an actor with one
leg and, in this town, there happens to bea
guy with one leg. Suddenly, this Irish
friend of his becomes the guy’s agent and
tells him [in a brogue) “Allright, let me do
all the bus

Before long, word gets to Huston that
there's tl th one leg available and
that his “agent” is talking about hundreds
of doll; On thc da

soul «

: y they arrange a mect-
ing, Huston is standing on the end of a
pier. This guy with the one leg and a
crutch comes hobbling up with his man-
ager, and they're talking about all the

money they're gonna make. They get to
Huston and the agent says, “Here he is!"
Huston looks at the guy, then says,
“Wrong leg
PLAYBOY: Even you've admitted that some
of your most recent pictures have been, at
best, disappointing. What, for instance,
possessed you to make The Sting II?
GLEASON: [Unhesitatingly] Money! Sting II
was trying to live on the reputation of the
original. When we were making it, I knew
we were headed for disaster. The script
they first brought to me was very good.
Then they started to “fix” it and, once
they start doing that, anything can hap-
pen. Usually, trouble starts.

PLAYBOY: Was it simply moncy, then, that
drew you to the Burt Reynolds-Hal Need-
ham Smokey and the Bandit trilogy?
GLEASON: Well, I didn't get a great deal of
money for the first Bandit. When I saw the
script of that one, I turned it down. I said,
“How dare they bring me this?” Then 1
started to think about how I could play a
redneck sheriff. differently from anybody
else. I thought the pencil mustache would
be an interesting touch, and I started to
get into it. But there wasn't even a scene
between Burt and me, so I wrote a scene
for us myself. That's the only time we met
in the picture, and here I was chasing him
all over Florida and Georgia.
PLAYBOY: What's your appraisal of Reyn-
olds' career?

GLEASON: He's never done a picture that
even approaches his potential. I've scen
him and he has, you know, moves. He
moves just right, has great acting ability
and he can do comedy. He could even be
20,000 times better than he was in Deliver-
ance il he got the right part. Given the
opportunity, he'll be a riot.

PLAYBOY: Of course, your performance in
The Hustler as Minnesota Fats, for which
vou earned an Oscar nomination, has
been regarded as your finest on film. Have
you ever heard from the real Fats?
GLEASON: You know, his name wasn't
Minnesota Fats then! It was New York
Fats, and when the picture came out, he
immediately changed it. I heard he tried to
sue 20th Century Fox, but they sent him a
couple of letters and he shut up right away.
[Excitedly] And I could beat him left-
handed, playing pool. Left-handed! Every
c Willie Mosconi plays him on TV,
Willie has to miscue three or four times,
because otherwise, the poor bum would
run out on him. He can't play pool. He
wanted to cash iı
PLAYBOY: Eight years have passed since
your triple-bypass operation, yet you still
play golf every day when you're not work-
ing. Can we assume that the heart-attack
nightmare is a thing of the past and that
you're now feeling spry?

GLEASON: Oh, I've never felt better, What-
ever they did to my heart, they must have
done it right.

PLAYBOY: You were on stage in Chicago,
doing Sly Fox in 1978, when the heart at-

tack hit, but the show did go on, didn’t it?
GLEASON: | wouldn't walk off a stage if my
legs were falling off! But that night, when
the pain started, I'd never felt anything
like it before, where I wanted to get the
hell off. Fortunately, it was near the end of
the show, but, boy, did I want to quit.
Then it subsided, so afterward, Mare and
I went to a restaurant and I had some
clams and some booze. Then this pain
came over me again. I got up and went out
in front of the restaurant. 1 knew some-
thing was happening. I didn’t have the
slightest idea what—I wasn't scared. Гус
never been scared about things like that.
PLAYBOY: Like death?

GLEASON: It’s ridiculous to be afraid of
death. No matter how frightened you are,
you're still going to die.

PLAYBOY: Does your pragmatism come
from what we've heard you believe regard-
ing the afterlife?

GLEASON: Well, reincarnation would be
ideal. If you didn’t do it right the first
time, you could come back and try it all
over again. I just hope I’m doing it right,
so I don’t have to come back.

PLAYBOY: You don’t want to come back?
GLEASON: What for? Maybe if I could
come back in 1000 years and see all the
new stuff... . But just to come right back
and say, “Oh, Christ, the same old
stuff .
PLAYBOY: Has it occurred to you that you
could probably stave off that eventuality
longer if you stopped smoking? You plow
through, what, five packs a day?
GLEASON: [Sighs] Yeah, dubious
distinction to smoke five packs of cig
rettes a day. After my operation, though,
my doctor made a terrible mistake, In m
presence, he said to Marilyn, “I don't un-
derstand it—the bum smokes five packs a
day and his lungs are as pink as a baby’s!”
She went cra: а What did you
tell him that for?"

But if I were to get anything, I would
have had it by now. I mean, it's just your
constitution. Quitting, I think, would af-
fect me worse. Whatever you give up, you
have to substitute somehow, usually by
eating 40 pounds of candy a day. Now,
who the hell knows what I would subs:
tute for smoking?

PLAYBOY: Jackie, is there anything you do
in moderation? Or is everything grander,
bigger than life?

GLEASON: Well, there’s nothing too grand
about my ordinary life. The only things I
do in a grand manner have to do with
show business. I have a little piece of wood
on my desk with an inscription on it: THREE
S ARE ALWAYS BETTER THAN ONE. And.
that’s my philosophy, my show-business

ап you imagine your life out-
le show business?
GIEASON: Sure. I
actors’ shoes.

would have shined

151

PLAYBOY

152

TOM PETERS (continued from page 81)

“He is not just talking about increasing corporate
revenues; he is talking about salvation.”

block innovation the way a huge man’s
shadow blocks the sunlight.

There are some who insist that Peters is
not an angel but a devil, possessed not by
the Word but by the buck. And the spot-
light. He's this year's snakc-oil salesman,
they say, pitching his “excellence” cure to
the desperate; a silver-tongued barker cov-
cring up the holes in his story, waving off
evidence that the cure docsn't work. He's
selling a kind of corporate est, forever
pushing the AMERICA CAN DO IT button.

Tom Peters is, momentarily, a happy
man. In a small chartered plane lifting
above the hills of West Virginia, he is in
an excellent, albeit exhausted, mood. A
Democratic caucus at the Greenbrier
resort has just been told how America can
be saved. “We can’t protect industries that
make things that just don’t work!” he
shouted. So we must learn to compete.
World peace lies in the direction of world
trade. And why, now that the session is

over, is he so thrilled? Because, he says, “I
sure pissed off a few people.”

He did more than that. He captured the
crowd. Elmer Gantry in a humid tent
holds not a candle to Tom Peters in an
air-conditioned ballroom, Peters at the
podium is aman on fire. He harangues the
ceiling; he implores the floor. He paces,
stomps, wrings his hands. He shrieks. He
sweats. His voice grows hoarser and
hoarser. A former colleague says that lis-
tening to Peters speak is like trying to get a
drink from a rushing fire hydrant.

He has been honing this style longer
than most people know. Since 1980, when
Business Week published a portion of his
excellence study, his phone hasn’t stopped
ringing. He has now developed, he says,
“infinite respect for Johnny Carson and
Bill Cosby. I learned the hard way that
you can tell the same story over and over.
One time, you belch in the middle, which
gives people seven seconds to laugh, and
the next time, you forget that’s what you

“But this is neither snow nor rain nor heat
nor gloom of night.”

did, and they don’t laugh.”

At the Greenbrier, he wasn't trying to
make people laugh. He was a man con-
sumed by grief at how badly most compa-
nies operate. His was a soul in torment,
and his suffering w: us. When he
told his listeners he was afraid of the Jap-
апеѕе, a frisson of fear ran through the
room. Then came the parable. In this one,
a woman bought an appliance at Macy's
during the Christmas rush. On her way
out, someone asked if she knew who the
Japanese man who had sold her the appli-
ance was. She didn't. Well, the man w
the president of the Sony Corporation,
working in the store to sec what his cus-
tomers were buying. "Imagine" Peters
shrieked. “How many C. out in
department stores? You can count "em on
one hand after a lawn-mowet

So he got his laugh anyway
said, Management in Silicon Valley
rotten as it is in the Rust Bowl" a
Representative from Maryland poked a
Representative from Ohio and whispered,
“How's that for mild?” Florida Congress-
man Claude Pepper rushed forward when
the speech was over and said Peters was
the man they should run for President.

Tony Coelho, chairman of the Demo-
cratic Congressional Campaign Commit-
tec, also thinks Peters has political
potential. He likes a guy who says such
things as “The only thing people under-
stand in the board rooms of the Fortune
500 companies is terror.”

People who know him well assume that
Peters, now 43 years old, has overcome the
initial shock of his rapid rise to celebrity.
No longer overweight and disheveled-
looking, he has achieved a new peace of
mind. And although he can be seen s
ping Scotch after his speeches, he is
reportedly drinking less than he used to.
He rcacts badly to rumors that lectures
were botched—even missed— because he
was drunk. He admits to having missed
three, one because an airline bumped him
off a flight. “I thought I was an alcoholic,
but my shrink says no," he says. After
years of wearing torn running shoes, rum-
pled corduroys and shirts that protruded
over an expanding belly, today's trimmer
Peters is nattily dressed in gray slacks, a
buttondown shirt, a red tie and a blue
blazer that, to his amazement, shakes out
wrinkle-free when he lifts it from the
airplane seat. “Maybe,” he says, “I ought
to buy expensive clothes more often.” On
a very good day, he might resemble
Harrison Ford, the far side of boyish,
with unruly evebrows, broad face, hair
shaggy (by corporate standards) and a
bring-on-the-beast-D'll-take-'im-with-my-
bare-hands look in his eye.

There are a lot of beasts in Peters”
world. And bad guys. “Tom needs an
enemy," one friend says. “Life isn't worth
living for him unless he has one.”

The composite Peters enemy is the
“buttondown guy in a 17-piece gray suit
who never speaks above a whisper," the

BIZ BOOKS

WHEN CORPORATE HONCHOS PUT PEN TO PAPER,
ARE THEY BETTER OFF JUST SIGNING A CHECK?

usiness, when treated in books
synonymous with greed, plun-
der, acute Philistinism and mindless
wheeling and deali
All that has changed. Bankers and
businessmen are the new darlings of
book publishers. Anyone with a theory
about where business is going and a
system to guarantee first-class tickets
for the ride can get a chance at a best
seller. Publishing itself is a business,
and publishers haye discovered that

Yes, but is it good for books?

lacocea, by Lee lacocca with William
Novak (Bantam, $19.95). This, of
course, is the book that made C.E.O.s
hot literary properties. Iacocca, it
turned out, could sell books even better
than he could sell cars. Iacocca has gen-
uine virtucs, many of which have little
todo with business. In the book, Henry
Ford is a wonderful villain. Probably
only John Dos Passos could have imag-
ined him. Jacocca also has a good plot
line. The reader actually feels some
suspense over the fate of a corporation
and some relief when the poor thing
narrowly escapes disaster and goes on
to prosper.

But, like virtually every other book
in the genre, Jacocca is a perfect reflec-
tion of the priorities of present-d.
American business. It is long on mar-
keting, advertising and sales, short on
craftsmanship. The book is full of bad

th mixed metaphors

y The flow is inter-

rupted by sloppy syntax. At this level,

the book is—to use thc vernacular its

author understands—a clinker. Con-
sider this example:

It was incredible. One man with
inherited wealth was making a
shambles of everything, launching
a company on three years of hell
just because he felt like it. He was
playing with people's lives. Guys
were drinking too much. Their
families were falling apart. And
nobody could do a thing about i
This juggernaut was running
amuck.

Going for It! (Morrow, $16.95) is Vic-
tor Kiam's account of how he came to
sell Remington shavers on television.
Kiam sums up the lessons of one entire
chapter: “The entreprencur should
always be mindful that if he steps on

too many toes by double-dealing or
failing to honor his commitments,
somcone is going to cut off his foot.”
Risk & Other Four-Letter Words (Harper
& Row, $19.95) is a collection of old.
speeches given by Walter B. Wriston.
He was then the C.E.O. of Citicorp,
end he affects the insufferably superior
wisdom bankers wear like pinstripes.
To establish his urbanity and learn
he uses more quotes per paragraph
than anyone this side of George Will.
For instance:

To recognize in a clear-cyed way
the existence of an international
information standard is not in any
sense to denigrate the achieve-
ments of the old fixed exchange
rates of Bretton Woods any more
than taking the Concorde to New
York denigrates the achievements
of the clipper ships. It is simply a
different world. There is a time
and a place for everything. As
‘Thomas Hobbes once said: “Hell
is truth scen too late.”

One wonders how Hobbes’s apho-
rism applies to Wriston’s argument.
Probably, the banker saw the line in his
Bartlett’s and liked it so much that he
used it when he had something close.

On the Line, by Larry Kahaner
(Warner Books, $18.95), is the story of
how MCI took on AT&T. This chal-
lenge, of course, led to the breakup of
the phone company, which a few law-
yers still co

murkiness of this book matches the
logic of that breakup. This sentence is
typical: “Being a city boy, he didn't like
Charleston, with its one decaying m:
strect and new downtown mall that
housed the stores from the one decaying
main street,”

Views from the Top (Facts on File,
$16.95) is a collection of platitudes ut-
tered by various C.E.O.s. The editor,
Jerome M. Rosow, neglects to say
whether they were laughing at the time.
Consider this insight from the head hog
at Dow Chemical: “An individual
learns more by doing than by looking
over somebody's shoulder in a manage-
ment seminar or reading case studics.”

Re-inventing the Corporation, by John
Naisbitt and Patricia Aburdene (War-
ner Books, $17.50), is a pastiche of
such new-age insights as The new in-
formation society has created new mar-

kets and new business opportunities
(authors' italics). Perhaps because they
realize that so much of their book is
obvious and jejune, the authors use
a dazzling array of typographica
tricks. The resulting chaos makes the
book even less fun to read than an
annual report.

The IBM Way (Harper & Row, $17.95)
is for people who want to learn wh
IBM is the most successful corporation
in history. However, it turns out that
the author, a Buck Rogers (no kid-
ding), can’t really tell you what the
IBM secret is. So he tries for enlighten-
ment by indirection, employing what
might be called the Yuppie epiphany:
“Its wonderful when you have motiva-
tions and incentives on your side. It

Having run five
miles a day for the past 12 years, I
know the truth in the old French saying
“One can go a long way after one is
tired.’ I'd add, ‘But only when one is
motivated." "

Innovation, by Richard Foster (Sum-
mit Books, $19.95), is a little more
sober. This book purports to explain
“why leading companics abruptly lose
their markets to new competitors. And
how a few have led this fate by
relentlessly abandoning the skills and
products that have brought them suc-
cess.” The author quotes the aforemen-
tioned Wriston, who saw that the age of
cheap oil was gone forever. He also
cites Von Clausewitz and Liddell Hart.
This isn’t business, you see, it’s war.
But that tone seems somehow all wrong
when the author begins to explain the
abstractions of the Coca-Cola/Pepsi
struggle: “But Coke's decision to match
Pepsi’s was just one more move in the
chess game that these two competitors,
have been playing for longer than my
lifetime.” The introduction of New
Coke was something Joseph Heller
could have written. It was not high
drama but high humor.

Augustine's Laws, by Norman В.
Augustine (Viking, $18.95), is meant to
fill the wit void in business writing:

LAW NUMBER XI: If the carth could
bemade to rotate twice as fast, man-
agers would gettwiceasmuchdone.
If the carth could be made to ro-
tate 20 times as fast, everyone else
would get twice as much done, since
all the managers would fly off.

Let's stick with Mark Twain.
— JOHN HUNT MORGAN

153

PLAYBOY

154

corporate honcho who runs a huge com-
pany and fills his life with perks, private
parking spaces and executive elevators;
the professional manager, rather than
somcone who rcally knows the business.

Peters’ heroes and saints, on the other
hand, are a ragbagful of shirtslceved
guys: Frank Perdue, out on the loading
platforms with his people; former Dana
Corporation president and chairman Rene
McPherson, who taught Peters the im-
portance of “managing by wandering
around”; Vince Lombardi, who talked
about managing through love and whose
words often find their way into Peters’
speeches. Peters especially likes Balti-
more’s mayor, William Donald Schaefer,
who drives around his city, checking out
potholes, Peters grew up in Baltimore.

The one thing with which he has no pa-
tience is indifference—tfrom friend, enemy
or seminar participant. Before his speech
to the Democrats, his biggest fear was not
that he would be boocd—that appeals to
him—but that the audience “wouldn't be
interested.” Peters needs people to be

nterested, because he is not just talking
about increasing corporate revenucs; he is
talking about salvation.

Docs his own salvation lie on Capitol
Hill? Is he tempted by Coclho's urging?
He sets aside the airline schedule he has
been scanning. No. He hates Washing
first of all. The day before, he had walked
along K Street, mutte about how
he felt the minute he landed
at National Airport. “Irs the sense of self-
importance that’s been here since Ken-
nedy,” he says, “the arrogance,

Nor does a Congressman’s salary have a
lot of appeal. “Pm making more money
than I know what to do with,” he says sheep-
ishly. His company, The Tom Peters Group,
had revenues of $5,000,000 last усаг, he
says. “I can't get past the greed phase.”

So if Peters’ future doesn’t lie in shaking
hands with constituents, where, exactly, is
he headed? He likes to talk about moving
“to fucking Vermont and waving to Palo
Alto,” to dream about playing the harp-
sichord and writing “thoughtful ess
But he never seems to get there. His sched-
ule—which includes par
exchange program with China and estab-
lishing an arm of The Tom Peters Group in
weden—is full until mid-1987.

The truth is, Peters ran’ stop what he is
doing. He runs a business, and there are
17 people for whom he feels respons
You'll find them in a brand-new, lofi
office on quiet Hamilton Avenue in Palo
Alto. Gray industrial carpeting covers the
floors and fabric covers the sides of cul
cles, into which glass windows are cut.
There are few secrets here—and few
appearances in the office by Peters, who's
usually on the road four or five days a
week. But he's big on calling in. “Tom's on
line one,” an amplified secretarial voice
will call out. “Anybody want to talk to
him?” A large number of women work in
this office, which seems odd in view of the

icipating in an

fact that the companies on his “excellent”
st employ few. Peters explains that the
work at his office consists mostly of "sup-
port functions.”

Tom Peters’ operation is a study in
irreverence. On one wall are photos of
Peters dressed in a skunk costume; another
wall displays a bumper sticker that first
surfaced last year at the American
Management Association meeting: rp
RATHER BE DEAD THAN EXCELLENT. In Search of
Mediocrity, a parody published in Silicon
Valley, is passed from hand to hand. And
although its name is derived from a group
at Lockheed Aircraft that carried. on
rescarch outside the bounds of that com-
pany’s R&D division, the skunks, the
bumper sticker and the corporate culture
of The Tom Peters Group revolye heavily
around stinking things up and pissing peo-
ple off. Peters, of course, sets this tone. Не
talks about “the search-for-excellence phe-
nomenon—whatever the hell that might
be.” He calls his lectures a “tap dance”
and once described id book. A
Passion for Excellence, as *
people who believed the first bullshit." In
this vein, but with a greater dose of unpro-
vocative seriousness, he also says, “I could
never work for an “excellent company.
There are still a few crazy folks who value
independence.” And Peters, with no small
irony, leads the pack.

Not everyone in The Tom Pet
thinks it is an “excellent con
Neiman, for one, has j
ing with Peters at the time
(as itis called on Hamilton Ave-
was published. She booked his

nuc)
lectures from the gardenia-filled back
porch of his house on Fulton Street, five

blocks. And she watched. things
change. g,” she says,
“people said, ‘Oh, thank God. Гус been
g this for years, I feel validated!’ Then
shifted. People who called said, ‘I'd like
to have Tom Peters speak. But I don't
know what it's about.” They were manag-
ers getting brownie ts for booking
him, capitalizing on Tom as a product. It
was a disillusioning experience for him.”
And for her. Like most enterprises that
begin small, entreprencurial and close-
knit, Peters’ company has been changed
by growth. Now, Neiman says, “It’s a
bureaucracy.” The new offices are “too
corporate” and, instead of being concerned
about purpose, people “worry about
whether our plants stick out over the par-
titions.” She worries, too, about the future
of the enterprise. “It doesn't take a mar-
keting genius to know you can't havea com-
pany in which the product is one person.
The job of building “the excellence phe-
nomenon” into an ongoing business
( ig Tom Peters,” onc staffer calls
it) falls more happily to Debbie Kaplan, a
former Paul Weiss, Rifkind, Wharton and
Garrison lawyer from New York, who
makes all the deals for Peters” products.
Bob LeDuc—a friend from Stanford Busi-
ness School days, a former employce of

away.

Hewlett-Packard (one of the original “ex
cellent” companies) and Harvard
Business School professor—manages the
seminar business.

LeDuc is aboard the Peters express for
the long run, has been since the bad
porch days on Fulton Street. That wa
just after Peters was fired from his job a
McKinsey & Company—one of the coun
try's most prestigious consulting firms—
where the research and writing of Im
Search of Excellence had been done. A
cording to a frequently told story, Peters
was fired for wearing shorts to the office;
it’s a tale that neatly fits the
Peck's Bad Boy in the land of gray suit
He got a part-time job at the S
Business School and, with LeDuc, pl:
to set up a consulting practice. They
thought they would work 60 days a ycar
and make $60,000 apiece and, as Peters
live happily ever after.” Then
1982—a year after Peters and McKi
had parted—in LeDuc’s words.
damned book hit."

It hit becausc of a fortuitous combina-
tion of histori forces. In 1982, the econ-
omy was suffering the worst recession in
half a century. Unemployment was at tei
percent the weck the book was published.
“The Japanese threat" to industry had
become a byword, and Amcricans, ac-
customed to dominating the world of
technology and business know-how, were
suffering not only in their pocketbooks but
in their pride.

“Our stuff cau

ht people who were hun-
gry for answers," Peters says. “The world
was ready to listen. Two or three doz
other people had said the same things.
author
has since lelt The Tom Peters Group,
ks that the “ridiculous success” of the
first book wouldn't have happened if it had
America

come out a year earlier:
try was sending troops to Japan to
why they were outperforming us.
beauty of LS. of E. was its patriotic mes-
sage: Here's an American comp i
things right." It fit into the bu
mood in the country. Everybody thought
Тот was a Republican!

Like a real Republican, Ronald Rea-
gan, Peters had found a way to communi-
cate with Americans: the anecdote. His
speeches, seminars and books brim over
with anecdotes. But, like Reagan's ofi-
ted chestnuts, some are hard to м
у. The story about the woman who
bought an appliance from the Sony presi-
dentat Macy's, for example. Peters says he
heard this from the woman herself. What
did she buy? He doesn't know. How can

doesn’t know that, either, but he
it matters, His research methods con:
doing an enormous amount of reading.
clipping and listening to what people tell
him “on the road.” All that matters is that
the stories scem plausibl
use one if he thinks it is “con
what the guy could have done.

he says. He'll

tent with

That was not good enough for Fortune.
In the spring of 1985, the magazine,
preparing an excerpt from A Passion for
icellence, set its fact checkers to work.
ome of the facts didn't check—such as
the story about the Xerox executive who
tried to make things more democratic by
directing that all reserved-parking signs in
the company lot be painted out. The story
wasn't true. “I look like an asshole in this
one.” Peters says. "It's a weakness in the
head. I like to tell stories; when I elaborate
enough times, I believe it.”
about Frank Perdue's in-
arter of a million dollars

to blow the feathers off
—an example of truly. excellent
chicken plucking. The trouble was, Per-
due's company told Fortune, the machine
had already been replaced.

Which brings up another question: How
excellent are Peters” choices of excellent
companies? Thirteen of the 43 companies
iscd in /n Search of Excellence were in

g cial trouble threc years later.
Pressed on this, Peters responds, “Am 1
the only person in the U.S. responsible for
quarterly carnings? They ran into serious
problems because they took their cyes off
the real world. Our point was long-term
performance. If a company has a bad
quarter or two, what does it mean?” Then
he will talk about “comebacks at Kodak,
Delta Airlines and maybe Caterpillar.” Or
the way Mary Kay Ash gets employces
involved in her cosmetics company by put-
ting on old-fashioned “hoopla” meetings
at which everyone gets an award. Still,
n recent years, Mary Kay's stock has
tumbled, its sales force has dwindled and
sales have plummeted. And People Ex-
press Airlines—also a Peters favorite—lost
$27,500,000 last year and $58,000,000 in
1986's first quarter. Can you be excellent
in the red?

James O'Toole, professor of manage-
ment at the University of Southern Cali-
fornia, says that when companies get into
trouble, “Peters oflers no principles to turn
to. Those Silicon Valley companies” —he
doesn't name it, but Apple is a prime ex-
ample—"that looked so good and ap-
peared so humanistic turned into tyrants
when they got into trouble. It’s at that
level that Tom doesn’t have anything to
say. He walks away or he screams. There's
nothing hc says that's wrong,” O'Toole
insists. “It’s just incomplete, therefore
misleading, American businessmen love his
good news. They hate to be criticized, and
Tom never says anything bad. He insults
the intelligence of the American business
community and its members don't recog-

А
» one seems insulted as Skunk Camp
nvenes on the shore of the Pacific
Ocean, Participants sleep in weathered-
wood condominiums and, cach morning,
make their way along narrow walkways to
Grove House, where the lessons of excel-
lence are taught by Peters and LeDuc. The

four-day seminar is a bizarre mixture of
tomloolery and seriousness. Each day is
color coordinated. T-shirts appear at the
door of each condo every morning, their
colors matched to the work sheets for that
day’s study.

The people who come to Skunk Camp
are among Peters’ “converted.” Many are
from companies he has written about:
Domino’s Pizza, Stew Leonard’s Dairy,
Burger King. New faces at this session in-
clude two Roman Catholic priests from
Chicago interested in “translating the les-
sons of excellence" to their own enterprise.
‘They are having trouble deciding what
their translation of "dealing with competi-
tors" is, but they heartily agree that Peters
is an evangelist.

In two- and threc-hour chunks, Peters
lectures, cajoles and leads discussions on
topics that are beyond debate: creating
new heroes, treating people decently,
keeping things simple, learning how to
innovate. In a small room with a blad
board and 40 pcople taking notes, h
speaking style is the same as it is from a
podium under the glare of spotlights:

“Nobody can deal with the word fail
ure!” he shouts. “People talk about ‘out-
comes of the other variety.’ I hate the term
ing. You have to be able to say
something was a screw-up, a goddamned
unmitigated failure! Not ‘а good try!’ At
Xerox, they've got a product in develop-
ment that’s supposed to be taking two
years, and now it's seven years and” —his
voice rises into the upper registers; he
squeaks— “nobody will talk about it!”
Quick, an anecdote about a failure that is
inspirational: “John Reed was an innova-
tor, a hero. Worked at Citicorp. Biggest
loss in the history of Citicorp is associated
with him. He sent 24,000,000 credit-card

applications all over America and lost a
fortune, but he helped create the nation-
wide bank. His competition for the top
spot was a buttondown guy who never
made a mistake.”

When LeDuc takes over, Peters sits at
one side, sipping diet sodas and taking
notes. He never shows up at morning excr-
cise workouts and doesn’t linger in the eve-
nings; too much to do. He has to drive
home to Palo Alto, where he spends much
of the night working on speeches, columns,
Congressional testimony before the House
Armed Services Committee. The deadline
for filing for the Congressional race has
come and gone; he has declined. He's
tired. When Skunk Camp is over, he will
dress up in a skunk suit and give out
awards, then board another plane for
another speech. Perhaps he'll “go cata-
tonic" and the stewardess will think he has
had a heart attack.

Tom Peters flies on. “The pace,” he had
told Skunk Camp members, “has to be
speeded up. Our objective must be the
grand one. I would beg you not to waste a
minute.” Peters, for one, doesn't waste а
millisecond. It's not enough to have put
some pizzazz into business talk. It's not
enough to have people across the country
gathered to watch you on closed-circuit
television, the way they do prize fighters.
It's not enough to play David to the Go-
bath of the Fortune 500 and walk away
with fame, money and your name men-
tioned as a potential Presidential candi-
date. Nothing is enough, because this is,
after all, a holy war, the precise savagery
of which only Tom Peters really knows.

Geli HEN ATER)
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WHATTA YA know!
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ELM

155

PLAYBOY

156

BUSINESS SUPERSTARS! (continued from page 78)

Providence by their obvious successes in
large-scale commerce, can then be offered
up as exalted role models as they hold
forth on the pleasures of polo or comment
sagely on the sad decline of big-game
hunting in postcolonial Africa.

The imagery, too, of business and the
businessman has undergone a radical jazz-
ing up of late. It used to be that an execu-
tive portrait consisted of the head and
shoulders of some Episcopalian sitting at
his desk, with his hands folded, a pen set
front of him and a globe alongside, and
looking as if he'd rather undergo a tax au-
dit than crack a smile. These days, C.E.O.
pictures look a lot like album covers. Bus-
iness bigs are being photographed—
literally—sitting in the lotus position,
standing on their heads and wearing clown
costumes. By the deft use of strobes, entre-
preneurs in crew-neck sweaters and beat-
ир moccasins are made to look as if they're
spinning off an aura of cosmic energy.
American Photographer pegged the trend
perfectly by comparing the new executive-
snapshot style to—you guessed it—the
rock-n-roll portrai pioneered by
Annie Leibovitz and showcased in Rolling
Stone back when people looked there,
rather than in Fortune, for fan-zine gossip
and closc-ups of celebs, preferably with
their shirts off.

Nor is business’ grab for drama and im-
y limited to the print medium.
Consider The Wall Street Journal Report, a
breathless business-news spot now carried
on 85 radio stations nationwide. The
W.S.J.R. announcer comes on sounding as
if he’s introducing an episode of The
Untouchables, then proceeds to intone
some stunningly meaningless factoid, such
as that inventories of durable goods
increased by one tenth of one percent last
month, equalizing the decrease of the
month before, so we're all back where we
started from. This information is of use to
no one; but, of course, that’s not the point.
The point is that a fix has been provided to
America’s burgeoning ranks of business
junkies. Millions of people—not by work-
ing, not by getting anything accomplished,
but merely by tuning in—have been reas-
sured that they are plugged in to the
fast-paced, adrenaline-laced, roller-coaster
world of business and that they are part of
the hyped-up, sexed-up crusade that is
American enterprise today. They feel like
they belong.

The irony of all this is that we Ameri-
cans, as a breed, pride ourselves on being
ferociously independent, on defining our
‘own goals and going merrily to hell by our
own self-chosen paths; we fancy ourselves
immune to, and aboye, herd psychology.
Lets face it—even as the Japanese ace us
out in business, we secretly despise them,
with their company songs, their blind loy-
alties, their fanatical teamwork. Sure,
get results—but at the unforgivable cost of
surrendering their individuality and ab-

dicating their sacred eccentricities in favor
of the all-compelling myths of the com-
pany and the national objective. But think
about it: Is our own recent mythologizing
of business fundamentally any different?
Our legends, 100, are designed to moti-
vate, to steer ambitions onto acceptable
tracks, to subjugate idual choices to
some irresistible vision of “success” as
defined by someone else. So, OK, here in
America, we don't sing company songs.
We tap our feet to the patter of the busi-
ness cheerleaders and call it rock "n' roll.
.

And we lie a lot,

We scxualize business by making it
sound like a series of titillating, high-
stakes gambles, a tightrope act performed
without a net; when, in fact, as John Ken-
neth Galbraith asserted in his 1958 classic,
The Affluent Society, “modern business en-
terprise can be understood only as a
comprehensive effort to reduce risk.” The
businessman who really comports himself
igh roller is neither typical nor

smart.

We rationalize business by portraying it
not as a scramble after wealth but as the
passport to life's civilized pleasures, when,
in fact, it most often becomes such a drain-
ing and narrowing vocation that civi
lization’s pleasures, once you get past
cellular phones in German cars, end up
scudding by unsavored. “More attention
needs to be accorded,” opined a recent
column in The New York Times, “to what
the executive gives up . . . of [his] one cer-
tain life” in return for his salary and perks.
Amen—though, of course, bringing that
kind of humanistic perspective to bear on
the trade-offs demanded by a fast-track ca-
reer would constitute what the business
rah-rahs call a disincentive.

And, finally, we glamorize business by
making it one of those fantasylands in
which we live vicariously. Barbara Howar,
who, as East Coast correspondent for
TV's Entertainment Tonight, knows about
celebrity obsession, recently observed that
“shopgirls from Bloomingdale's read The
Forbes Four Hundred as avidly as a corpo-
rate vice-president.” Why? They have
about as much chance of entering those
circles as they do of locking as lissome as
the models in Vogue. But business, like
haute couture, seems to have become one of
those things that, by a truly sublime
illogic, make us feel good by making us
feel bad about what we're not.

The question that remains, however, is

why this rampant business mythologizing
should be going on right now. Part of the
answer, no doubt, lies in the adventure
vacuum that otherwise pertains їп this

well-behaved and inglorious decade. After
the local, intellectual and, yes, moral fer-
ment of the Sixties and Seventies, the cur-
rent historical moment. . . well, you can
give it the benefit of the doubt and call it a
period of regrouping and redirecting ofna-

tional energies, or vou can just say it’s as
dull as shit. It is the sort of dead spot ii
time during which the selEconcerned have
always consolidatcd their gains and noth-
ing much else happens. Which is not to say
that business is bad or that businessmen
are villains—ihaf's just another version of
the business myth, another strained and
bogus way of lending resonance to what is,
finally, a value-ncutral game

But there's the rub: Value-neutral
doesn’t satisfy us. We are, in spite of our-
selves, idealists. We call ourselves prag-
matic, and we think we mean it as a
compliment; yet even in our most mun-
dane doings, we yearn to cloak our ambi-
tions in grandeur; we spin myths around
ourselves the way a worm bedecks its tiny
self in silk. And this would seem to be
especially true of us baby boomers—who
are both the central subject and the cen-
tral target of the business cheerleaders,
not to say the majority of the cheerleaders
themselves. We boomers, with a cockincss
that came from our sheer stampeding
numbers, always knew that a very special
destiny awaited us, and we tried on and
outgrew alternative rhetorics the way a
tall kid outgrows pants. The buzz words
came and went; what was constant was the
belief that we would live lives different
from those that had been lived before.

Except that it hasn't quite turned out
that way, has it? Most of us have settled
into lives exactly like those that have been
lived before: lives in business in a culture
that's about business. So now the mythol-
ogy is undergoing an ingenious twist: Hav-
ing largely given up our dreams of being
unconventional, we must contrive to make
the conventional itself appear exalted.
And that’s what the business rah-rahs are
trying to sell us

A while back, a piece called “A Wall
Street Rocker” ran in the “About Men”
column of the New York Times Magazine, It
tten by a year-old fellow named
Jim Fusilli, identified as “a corporate-rela-
tions associate for Dow Jones & Com-
pany." Fusilli came across as a damn nice
guy, and his story just about broke my
heart. It was about the frustration and
ambivalence of trying to hold together a
rock band when half the players were
wearing suits and filling what are piously
called positions of responsibility in the
business world. What it was really abou
was the death throcs not of adolescence
butofthe naive faith that, even as prosper-
ing adults, we would have the prerogative
of cranking the volume up, crushing the
microphone in our hot fists and singing
the damn song any way we pleased. Well.
But we're with you in your
yearning, Jimbo—millions of us. We wish
you success on the job and joy with the
music. But, for Christ's sake, don’t let the
business rah-rahs befuddle you, even for a
single beat, into mixing up the two.

we haven't

MEESE COMMISSION

(continued from page 60)
working definition with which his commis-
sion has been playing for a ycar (and on
which it never manages to agree)

“Let me take a stab at it," he offers
“Ies any that is
designed to be sexually arousing, that
depicts sodomy, sexual degradation, hu-
miliation, domination or violence."

Why sodomy? Hudson launches into a
stern, finger-waggling lecture on the men-
acc of sodomy and how I obviously misun-
derstand the sodomy laws as they affect
whar the pornography commission calls
“rubber goods” and oral sex.

A career of reporting, from Saigon to
Presidential primarics, has not adequately
prepared me for this moment

It seems that, as Hudson views the law
in Virginia and quite a few other states, it
is a felony to have oral sex with your
spouse, even in the privacy of your own
bedroom. That's sodomy, And apparently
there isn't anything you can do with a
dildo, including sticking it in your car, that
Hudson and his law will tolerate:

Depictions of violence, by the way, are
OK, as long as they're not connected with
explicit sex. The video stores in Arlington.
that are now forbidden to rent the uned-
ited version of Debbie Does Dallas are doing
a brisk business in / Spit on Your Grave,
Tool Box Murders and other splatter flicks
uncensored by prosecutor Hudson.

As the manager of one of Arlington's
more popular video stores said, “I can
rent movies that dismember and mutilate
but not those that show sex.” He held up
one cassette and said, “In this cute one, a
woman is sun-bathing by a river and this
killer comes along and chops her head off
with a shovel, and you sce the blood spurt-
ing out. And then it gets worse. But it’s
legal; it’s not considered obscene. There’s
no explicit sex,”

When I ask Hudson how he could possi-
bly find films that show the decapitation of
sexy women less objectionable than por-
trayals of sexual intercourse, he responds,
“T just enforce the law, and the law refers
to sex, not violence.”

Now, why am I, an investigative
reporter of some experience, telling you all
this as if it mattered to anyone not plan-
ning a trip to northern Virginia? Why,
indeed. Because the Attorney General’s
Commission on Pornography, which Hud-
son heads and of which, if you're like most
people I know, you've probably never
heard, has attempted to extend the legal
mores of Arlington County to the rest of
the country.

It has been a weird odyssey for Hudson
and his commissioners, hand-
picked by the Attorney General and
charged with slogging through smut, the
better to know it, the better to regulate it
These pilgrims, or “sewer astronauts,” as
Vonnegut has called them, have trekked
through tons—I'm pretty sure that's

gamely. portrayal

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PLAYBOY

158

literally
tograph

true, by thc
video tapes, wanscripts and
paraphernalia. But it was necessary
Witch-hunts need witches, and that meant
hearings in six American cities, a parade of
witnesses and “experts” and born-again
pornstarsand vicecopsandall mannerofpeo-
ing as to the evils (mostly) of porn.
.

"The goal of the commission was politi-
cally charged from the start. As an-
nounced by Meese in the charter of the
ion, its purpose was "to make
ic recommendations to the Attorney
General concerning more effective ways in
which the spread of pornography could be
contained, consistent with constitutional
guarantees.” Note the wording: to “con-
tain the spread," not to dispassionately

of pho-

examine the possible harm, if any.

Meese was taking up the rallying cry of
an extremely odd alliance of New Right
religious fundamentalists (such as Jerry
Falwell) and a small but vociferous band
of antipornography militants (such as
ultraradical feminist. Andrea Dworkin)
who held that the increased availability of
pornography was responsible for a rise in
all kinds of crime, particularly against
women.

Unfortunately for their cause, a Federal
commission reporting in 1970 to President
Nixon had “found no evidence to date that
exposure to explicit sexual materials plays
a significant role in the causation of delin-
quent or criminal behavior." This did not
deter them from their new campaign.
Meese claimed that research conducted

“Last call!”

after 1970 would show evidence of harmful
social effects and that, besides, pornogra-
phy had become more violent. To overturn
that carlier finding and recommend new
laws dealing more harshly with the pur-
veyors of pornography, the Auorney Gen-
eral chose 11 men and women, a majority
of whom had already sided with the
antiporn crusaders.

Chief among them were Hudson and his
side-kick, another prosecutor and porn
buster, executive director Alan Scars.
From Kentucky, he, too, had made a
name for himself by finding smut peddlers
to prosecute. He was to figure prominendy
in the drama that enfolded the commission
in its final days.

“The other members included Father
Bruce Ritter, a Catholic priest committed
to banishing porn from Times Square.
Father Ritter was always forthright when,
during breaks in the hearings, 1 ques-
tioned him about his views on sex outside
marriage (iUs a sin) and within marriage
(it "wastes the seed" if the sex is not
strictly for procreation). At one mecting,
Ritter said, “1 would say pornography is
immoral, and the source of my statement
is God, not social science." 1 must have
missed the day God gave testimony to the
commission. In any case, Ritter was a
earnest commissioner, never batting an
eye as the armada of law-enforcement offi-
cers (68 out of a total of 208 witnesses) tes-
tified as to how rough it was out there in
the land of dildos and plastic-wrapped fet-
ishist magazines

James Dobson, a fundamentalist radio
counsclor, was considerably more emo-
tional, though perhaps more practiced. He
regularly broadcasts tales of sexual
depravity on his radio program, Focus on
the Family. Nevertheless, during the hear-
ings, he exhibited an unnerving propensity
to half pop out of his chair, with a “Gosh,
no!” look on his face, at every new tale of a
pornography victim's woe. Although Dob-
son is undoubtedly sincere, there appear
to be other forces driving him. He
announced in a speech that since joining
thc commission, he had become the victim
of "satanic" attacks. He claimed that a
mysterious black Porsche had been the
demonic agent of accidents to his son and
daughters.

Commissioner Diane Cusack, a council-
woman from Scottsdale, Arizona, had
attempted to get re-elected by crusading
against local adult-book stores. Among
other things, she suggested that antiporn
activists photograph the license-plate
numbers of people attending an adult-
movie theater. To boost her fortunes, some
said, the commission even тє!
town. She lost her election

er Harold “Tex” Le:
been an editorial assistant at W
Buckley, Jr.'s, National Review a
on speechwriter hefore servi
advisor in the Reagan Admi
Justice Department, where he helped for-
mulate the idea for the porn commission

in her home

A solid antipom vote, he was instrumental
in choosing the commission's members.

This conservative majority was rounded.
out by Reagan-appointed Federal judge
Edward Garcia of-Sacramento, who had
been a municipal-court judge with a repu-
tation for being hard on defendants in
obscenity cases. Garcia, to his credit, did
appear capable of boredom and often
seemed to doze off during those sessions he
managed to attend.

Commissioner Park Dietz is a psychia-
trist and criminologist specializing in vio-
lent crime and sexual disorders. Thought
at first to be a hard-liner, Dietz occasion-
ally showed that he marched to his own
drummer, though it was not always clear
what the music was. He has written that
be believes that all pornograpl

is in some

sense tainted with “sadism and masoch-

ism" and that masturbation can lead to
"sexual disorders"; but during the hear-
ings, hc frequently expressed the view that
violence, not sex, was the key problem.

(It was Dietz and Cusack who provided
onc of the high points of the ycar. Wres-
tling with some testimony about odd ses
ual practices, Dietz said for the record, “I
think more people would agree that it's
bad to encourage rape than would agree
it's bad to encourage cjaculation in the
face.”

(Another member of the commission
noted, “One’sa felony,” at which Cusad
ever the cager teacher's pet, piped up with
“Maybe both should be.”)

Frederick Schauer was another one who
was capable of surprise. A professor of law.
at the University of Michigan, he believed
that the First Amendment did not apply to
pornography. Nevertheless, as time went
on and staff director Sears attempted to
pressure the commissioners into accepting
a sweeping, jail-all-pornographers draft,
Schauer protested that it was "so one-
sided and oversimplified that I cannot
imagine signing anything that looks even
remotely like this.” He later said that he
would write the report, an offer that was to
prove a mixed blessing for all concerned.

‘The rest of the commissioners turned

out to be more difficult to classify. But it is
worth noting that, on a panel whose male
members would often discuss the best
ways to protect women from the dangers of
pornography, three of the four female
members on the commission formed the
core of the loyal opposition.
Judith Becker, a Columbia University
psychologist and head of an institute spe-
izing in sex offenders, had the most
professional experience of any of the
commissioners in dealing with people who
commit sex crimes. Through the months,
she became increasingly dismayed by the
misuse of available scientific data. “There
simply is no serious body of evidence of a
al connection between pornography
* she would say. But the com-
n't listening.

Deanne Tilton, the head of the Califor-
nia Consortium of Child Abuse Councils

and an appointee of Republican governor
George Deukmejian, had been counted on
by Hudson as a solid antiporn vote.
Instead, she emerged as a sharp internal

tor of Woman's Day,
was the strongest dissenting voice on the
commission. As she said to me at one
point, "What I like is erotica and what
you like is pornography." A strong
defender of both constitutional and
women’s rights, Levine became a thorn in
Sears's side.

Although Hudson, Sears and the other
conservatives loved the fact that they
could drape themselves in women's libera-
n to combat porn, they deflected the
criticisms from the three women by refer-
ring condescendingly to them as “the
ladies” and by taking shots at their profes-

ional affiliations. (Levine's employer, the

owner of Woman's Day, is CBS, whose
interests in cable and records made a
tempting target for Sears.) As a leader of
the Southern Baptist Convention, Scars
often made it clear that he could not abide
Levine's more cosmopolitan ways, which
included what he clearly perceived as an
unseemly propensity, for a female, to inde-
pendent thought. Toward the end of the
Commission's life, the two were barely
speaking to each other and communicated
by exchanging bitter notes.

The bitterness came not just from the
clash of philosophies but from the fact that
within wecks of the commission's creation,
several of the commissioners had begun to
feel as if they were on a runaway train.

For nearly a year, the commission and I
wandered this country, seeking out the
sickest, most pathetic examples of human
sexual fantasy; the search went on for so
tong that it almost seemed as ifall that was
typical of American eroticism. But what
we watched, in large part, was shit. And,
again, I mean that literally.

For reasons best known to the staff
(Sears and his aides), the commission
exhibited an uncommon fascination with
the scatological fringe of the porn world.
No simple tits and ass for this crowd. For-
get garter belts and even whips. This Fed-
eral commission spent much of its

ime—and your money—on fist fucking,
golden showers, child porn, asphyxiation,
anilingus, with side trips into such rarely
considered fetishes as tocnail-clippings
collections, being squirted with real moth-
сг? milk and the private, carefully con-
toured world of sweat sniffing.

If all of this seems removed from your
experience, join the crowd. "The commis-
sion shunned the kind of mainstream erot-
ica most of us might encounter—though
carefully culled slides of pLaynoy and Pent-
house photos were shown—in favor of the
extremely bizarre. As attorney Barry Lynn
of the A.C.L.U. would write, “It is as if
finding the most despicable scene of sexual
conduct ever photographed, the comn
m would be justified in urging suppres-

sion of all sexually oriented material.”
Lynn, a United Church of Christ minis-
ter as well as a lawyer, a 37-year-old fam-
ily man with a wife and two children anda
station wagon, played an unusual role in
this trek. Often staying at cheap hotels,
he operated as a one-man truth squad,

cations of some of the

Was this hunt for the despicable, as
Lynn charged, a campaign to smear erot-
ica with the brush of the grotesque? Or did
it reflect the sexual fascinations of the staff
and the army of vice-squad officers who
led them through descriptions of various
dens of iniquity? Being there, I found it
hard to tell. The commissioners mostly
played hard to get to. A studied indiller-
ence permeated their responses to talk of
sexual stimuli, as if they were biologically
as well as ethically beyond the reach of
their effects.

But because I was there, I can also tell
you that the commissioners’ public air of
detachment was at odds with their more
private comments. At one point, in New
York, I happened to drive a carload of
them, including a couple considered to be
conservatives, up Broadway from lower to
mid-Manhattan, in slow-moving traffic.
The conversation about the often offbeat
passing sidewalk scene was urbane. “Nice-
looking hooker,” said one, and there were
approving grunts. ‘They had been around
a bit themselves and did not seem to be
overly disapproving.

On another occasion, a woman com-
missioner was talking with one of the
men, who had loudly declared his belief
that masturbation could lead to sexual
disorders. He remarked off handedly, “Of
course, none of this would happen if
women learned how to give a really good
blow job." When the woman objected, he
said, “That's a lot of feminist crap.”

‘Traveling with that crowd, I frequently
became overwhelmed by the mountains of
material, all of it unrelentingly squalid, all
of it fodder for this evangelical soap opera.
Lynn later estimated that 160 of the 208
witnesses before the commission—or 77
percent—had favored tighter controls on
sexually explicit material. The intent of
the men running the hearings was so
transparent that it was almost embarrass-
ing: transportation provided free of charge
for those testifying to the evils of porn;
tough, unrelenting questioning of those
few who said otherwise.

In brief, it was surreal to be in an audi-
ence in which high heels and uplift bras-
sieres were the norm even among women
sporting antiporn buttons. Among the
men, there was an obvious excitement in
the air, much like that of a Rotarian stag
show of old, when a disgrunded Playmate
or an aging but feisty Penthouse Pet
showed up, or when the lights were
dimmed for a screening of the “hot parts”
of X-rated movies confiscated by Scars's

159

PLAYBOY

160

Kentucky State Police.

The pattern of what was to follow
each city was established at the opening
session in June 1985 in the Great Hall of
the US. Department of Justice in Wash-
ington, with Dr. C. Everett Koop, Surgeon
General of the U.S., as lead witness that
day.

Perhaps it was the carly hour. 8:45 am,
but Dr. Koop came through as a bumbler.
The title is impressive; the man's mind is
not. He spoke of caring deeply about the
subject of pornography and wanted to
assure his audience “that we are not oper-
ating in the dark on this matter, as may
have been the case a decade or two ago,”
when the 1970 commission entered its
report that porn had not been proved
harmful Koop stated that the earlier
report “was based upon a very limited
universe of scientific literature," and you
would have thought that he was leading up
to the presentation of some new findings

Well, the Surgeon General had no new
findings to present and scemed to regret it.
Hc spoke emotionally about the new tech-
nologics of vidco tapes and cable, through
which pornographers "have expanded
their markets of sleaze and trash.”

When Hudson asked, "Do you, based
upon your experience and the evidence
that you have seen over the years, find a
direct connection between pornography
and public health?” Koop replied, “Well,
the simple answer to that question is, yes,
I definitely think there is a connection.
But... sir, that is basically, at the mo-
ment, an intuitive reaction, rather than
one based upon lots of science.”

Koop’s objectivity will soon be of some
significance, because he has promised to
present a report attempting to summarize
the social-science data on the effects of
pornography

Immediately after the Surgeon General
had spoken, the commission presented the
first of a long parade of porn “victims.”

Bill sat in protective anonymity behind
2 screen, presumably because he and the
commission did not want the world to con-
nect him with his crime. Bill, who said he
was 40, told how he had been convicted of
molesting two 14-year-old girls while they
were visiting in his home.

“I would like to tell you,” hestated, as if
on cue, “briefly what happened and what
role pornography had to play in these
events. In both cases, the girls were sleep-
ing over with my daughter, and I had been
drinking very heavily for several hours.
After going to sleep, 1 awoke very
abruptly, almost like someone had kicked
me. With compulsion, I was driven to go
into the room where the girls were slecp-
ing. It was like an inner voice giving me
instruction and direction.”

For the benefit of the stilled audience,
Bill provided further detail. “The first
time this happened, I removed the sheet
from the slecping girl, fondled her breasts
and vaginal arca. After a brief moment, 1
committed oral sodomy on her. . . -

“fn looking back on my life," Bill con-
ued, “I would like to tell you a few
things that happened that I feel led to
these crimes that I just alluded to. I was
raised in a Christian home, the third child
of a police officer." He faltered, sensing
quicksand—Christian cops causing crime?
Bill recovered: “There was, and still is, a
great deal of love between us. I would not
ever say or think that my family had any-
thing to do with causing me to commit
these crimes.”

No, it was pornography. According to
Bill, it started with the kid next door, who
showed him bodybuilding books; and
from there, it was a predictable journey to
nudist magazines and, finally, through
exposure to men’s magazines in the
Armed Forces. “Hustler became my bible,
and I had maybe the largest collection in
the country,” he noted with what scemed
to me a faint trace of the pride of an art
collector. “In closing, I suggest to you,
distinguished panel members, pornog-
raphy did not make me commit my crimes.
No, I am held accountable for my actions.
What I would like to suggest is the por-
nography industry is guilty of journal-
istic malpractice hiding behind the First
Amendment. It is much like the person
yelling ‘Fire!’ in a crowded theater.” Or
yelling “Sex!” in a crowded church. Just
how Bill had come to be familiar with Jus-
tice Oliver Wendell Holmes’s argument on
the First Amendment was not made clear

There was, however, some cross-
questioning.
LE Can you tell me whether or

not drinking was also a problem of
yours and whether or not it continues
to be?

uit: Drinking was a problem in my
life. I was drinking approximately
two to three six-packs of beer daily.

Levine: Was drinking in any way
one of the triggers that allowed you to.
do things that otherwise you wouldn't
have done?

BILL: Yes, it certainly was.

What Levine was driving at was the
body of evidence connecting such deviant
behavior with alcoholism. As in countless
times to come, the link between deviant
behavior and alcoholism was touched on
but never followed up. Instead, Ritter
came to : “Bill, do you think
that you could describe pornography as
the match that lighted the fuse to the
explosive?"

pit: Yes, sir, it certainly did.

RITTER: Do you think that your use
of pornography actually helped
shorten the fuse to the explosive that
ultimately injured these children?

BILL: Yes, it did

RITTER: Do you think that your con-
tinued use and exposure to pornogra-
phy actually increased the explos

fuse and abuse of those children?

pun: Yes, it did.

киттек: Thank you

HUDSON: Thank you very much,
Bill. We appreciate your testimony
this morning.

Just to complete the circle, Bill, who
d started life in a good Christian home,
reported, “Right after I was arrested.
met the Lord, Jesus Christ, and I turned
my life completely around.”

Levine said that later, in private session,
she had told Hudson that the witness
seemed to have been coached, but Hudson
had evaded the issue. The commission's
questioning of Bill was typical of what
would happen for the rest of the year—
pandering to the antiporn witnesses to
buttress the case and attempting to dis-
credit those with a diflerent position.

A particularly clear comparison was to
be the sympathetic treatment ofa Playboy
Playmate whose wild charges, including
murder, went unchallenged, while former
Penthouse Pet Dottie Meyer, who still
works for the magazine and claims to love
it, was grilled by the commission. Dictz all
but snarled back at Meyer lines from the
text that appeared in Penthouse and asked
sarcastically, “You like your men rough
and tumble, living on the edge of danger?”

She zapped him back with “Yes, 1 mar-
ried a policeman.”

I could go on with other highlights, but
those snippets should convey the flavor,
Well, just one more. We've had a medical
expert and a criminal, so let's try a cop.
That would have to be Dennis DeBord,
investigator for Virginia's Fairfax County
Police Department, who testified at soi
length about his specialty—the busting of
adult-book stores. He put on the usual
slide show, featuring such highlights as
“another section of maj
to different interests, magazines with devi-
ant behavior, such as Mothers Milk or
Poppin’ Mamas, The ‘poppin’ mamas’ are
pregnant women engaged in various sex-
ual acts, while the other is
milk in their breasts. Also, a magazine
commonly known in this culture is Fist
Fucking.”

Investigator DeBord went on to relate
his own sad tale of victimization by
porn—in this case, in the hallways outside
peep booths in adult-book stores.

“This investigator has also been solic-
ited outside the booths in the hallway.
Individuals have solicited me in various
ways, such as asked me straight out to
commit oral sodomy. anal sodomy, ctc. I
have also had my buttocks fondled in the
hallway.”

It's rough out there.

Enough of anecdotes. What, after all
this clfort, did the commission uncover
that might have been overlooked by the
1970 commission?

That earlier

of women with

panel, much better

two-year effort — costing
$2,000.000—and more serious about its
work, commissioncd more than 50

independent studies on the effects of por-
nography. The Meese commission made
none. Meese would pony up only a miserly
$500,000 for a year of commission hear-
ings, including stall salaries and travel
expenses. By Washington standards, that’s
lunch mone:

IVs also $250,000 less than this same
Justice Department had previously given
one antiporn crusader, Judith Reisman, a
former songwriter for Captain Kangaroo,
to do a survey of three magazines, includ-
ng PLAYBOY, to determine their pomo-
graphic content. Her study, among other
travesties, counted each panel in the car-
toon strip Little Annie Fanny in a running
total of instances of pornographic child

agery (the original Orphan Annie was a

it?). It came in lor much
f nd The New Yor!
Times included the Reisman study in an
about Government-funded projects
h an ideological tilt bordering on
fanati kers were appalled at
the lack of objectivity of the "research."
For starters, she likened Hugh Hefner to
Adolf Hitler.

To the evident frustration of the zealots
on the commission, however, Reisman
proved a bust as a witness when she tes
fied at the Miami hearings, raising a shrill
warning against “shaved genitalia,” which
she charged has “emerged as a new key
phenomenon.” She denounced Gahan
Wilson's cartoons and Helmut Newton's
photographs—to the discomfirure of at
least one commissioner whose living room
features Newton prints.

At hearing after hearing, the commis-

n would gear up wi icipation,
bold claims about revelations to come and
long witness lists, only to founder, as it did
in Reisman's case, on the paucity of any
reliable soci nce evidence to make its
case that the 1970 commission had been
wrong and that pornography caused ani
social behavior. The key researchers im
this field refused to be drawn into Hudson
and Sears's political agenda.

The star witness Houston, for
instance, was to have been Edward Don-
psychologist whose studies of
college-student response Lo его!
lent al is considered pionceri
the field. If there had been new evidence
since the 1970 commission on the harmful
effects of porn, it was expected то be found
in Donnerstein’s wo In one laborator
study, it had been shown that men
exposed to a rape scena t common
in most porn showed increase
in “negative attitudes” toward women.
The crusaders had seized on that find
to claim that porn in general led to vio-
lence toward women. But Donnerstein

—get

0—1

some

tedly to the commission
¡able was not sex but

that the crucial var
violence and that nonaggr
material produced no

е sexual
such effect.

ioner Schauer asked Donnerstein
"laboratory studies

Commi:
if re were any
showing increase in aggressive behavior
after exposure to nonviolent, sexually
explicit material.”

"There it was, the 56+ question, upon
which the future of the sex-censorship
roundup was riding. It was as open a ques-
tion as you could get. Were there any lab
studies, any at all? Give the wrong answer
and you give away the ranch. And with a
rare hush in the audience, Donnerstein
responded, as cool as a killer of dreams in.
a Western, “Not that 1 am aware of.”

“The problem." Donnerstein and his
associate Daniel Linz later said, “centers
‘on what we mean by pornography. Are we
talking about sexually explicit materials?
If we are, then one would have to conclude
that there is no evidence for any harm-
related cflects. Are we talking about
aggressive materials? In this case, the
research might be more supportive of a
potential harm-eflcct conclusion. The
problem, however, is that the aggressive
nages arc the issue, not the sexual, in thi:
type of material.”

Bam! The commission was up against a.
stone wall. This is what it was all about,
right? Evidence that depictions of sex
cause harmful effects. But here, the only
witness so far to present cold, detached,
nonanecdotal evidence tells the comm
sioners that it’s not sex but violence. The
same violence implicit on children's televi-
sion and in toy stores in the forms of
Rambo and Masters of the Universe? So if.
there's any serious intent, wouldn't the
commissioners have stopped dead in their
tracks at that testimony? Not bloody
likely. That would mean redirecting the
New Right's pop cause of pornography to

that of violence, which scems to be built
nto the very red-white-and-blue muscle of
merican culture.
The Meese commission, of course, did
nothing of the sort. Hudson's immediate
response, since he was discombobulated
Donnerstein's testimony, was to cut
short the discussion of scientific findings
and turn the mecting over to the next slide
show. Enter Sergeant W. D. Brown ol the
Houston vice squad. If the sergeant ran
true to form, he would do what vice cops in
the other cities had done: provide a juicily
horrifying tour of his terrain—the now-
familiar landscape of sleazy bookstores
and scatologically oriented publications
But Brown didn’t deliver
mission might have hoped for.
ently” he said, “there is no child
pornography that is being sold readily
over the counter, nor is there any bestialit
or defecation or those types of films.
Child pornography is, of course, that
most toxic of terms, the great rallying cr
of the antipom witch-hunt. But society
clearly recognizes its obligation to protect
minors, and no serious person disputes it.
As Lynn suggests, "It's a convenient way
of getting everyone excited, but the fact is
that the laws are very severe on child por-
nography and it exists only as an illegal
cottage industry."
What docs exist, as Brown went on to
document with a slide show, are sad
watering holes for primarily poor consuni-
ers of adult fetishist material. To under-
score this fact, obvious to any visitor to the
neighborhood of a downtown bus station,
Brown intoned along with his slide:
“This is another typical bookstore that
we have in Houston. You will notice chat
they also advertise giant booths. The

y. rucker

“You're young. I hope you live to
see the day when a doctor has the right to operate on
any lawyer who sues hım.”

161

PLAYBOY

162

booths that you will see in a moment
are places where individuals go to have
anonymous sex relations with other indi-
viduals in the bookstore. This is a typical
counter which you will find in a bookstore.
The shelves are stocked with different rub-
ber goods and devices to stimulate sexual
activity.”

For some reason, dildos fascinate police
forces more than any other item of erotica,
as Brown's testimony indicated; and in
"Texas, as he noted, "possession of si
morc of these items 1s a clas:
meanor. They are listed under Texas law
as contraband and can be confiscated.
Presently, Houston, 1 guess 1 would have
to say, has thc largest inventory of rubber
goods. At last count, we had 27,000 of
these things located in our property
room."

Consider, if you will, the presence of
27,000 arrested dildos stacked neatly in
the property room of the Houston jail. The
commissioners sat in respectful and intent
silence, apparently unaffected by the
absurdity of the moment, as Brown
marched bravely forward to the matter of
rubber dolls that “are primarily used for
sexual relations with individuals.” Gro-
tesque though some of the paraphernalia
may be, no one broke the silence with the
questions that begged to be asked: Is it
harmful? Might it even be calming to some
people and, therefore, to society's benefit?

So that the commission might fully
examine the question of whether or not the
public display of porn had harmful effects,
it was determined that slides of these
dingy sex stores would not suffice; the
commissioners: to see for themselves.
Research. So Scars hired transportation
and marched them as a group, accompa-
icd by Houston cops. into one of these
establishments. In fact, it had been cased
in advance by the police. As everyone
watched, a bullet-headed vice cop yanked
open the door and announced іп a loud
voice, “And here we have two men
engaged in an act of oral copulation!” The
two men looked up in astonishment at the
11 commissioners.

One commissioner said she couldn't tell
the cops from the customers—except for
the cops’ white socks. And Lynn said it
was all he could do to prevent the edgy
police from arresting everybody there.

One might understand if this had been a
meeting of the local board of health. But
what business was it of a U.S. commission
on pornography to get down and dirty into
the pathetic attempts of some of this
world’s most forlorn, desperate and lonely
inhabitants to find a few moments of what-
ever brings them as close to joy as they will
get? These were two human beings!

And what did this field trip yield?

HUDSON: Sergeant Brown, have you
or any other member of your de-
partment developed any statistical
correlations between the increasing
number of adult-book stores and the

incidence of sex-related crime in those
districts?

BROWN: No, sir, we haven’
haven't done any kind of studies in
that regard. It would be impossible
lor me to give you a definitive
answer,

The lack of reliable studies was to dog
the conservative commissioners through-
out the hearings. Scars and Hudson had
made the mistake of hiring their own
expert—an honest social scientist. Unfor-
tunately for them, Canadian sociologist
Edna Ё. Einsiedel is a scholar of integrity
and issued a disquieting report to the com-

izing existing studies.

After reviewing studies done on tele-
cd soap Operas, men's magazines such
as PLAYBOY and Penthouse and other maga-
zines such as Time and Reader's Digest,
Einsiedel reported, “No evidence cur-
rently exists that actually links fantasies
with specific sexual offenses; the relation-
ship at this point remains an inference.”

Her report also risked the heresy that
erotica could be good for you. Therapists,
she noted, have used erotie material “to
help patients with sexual dysfunctions
overcome th fears and inhibitions.”
Also available was a 1982 report by Don-
nerstein and his colleague Neil Malamuth
concluding that “exposure to certain types
of pornography can actually reduce
aggressive responses" (tLavboY photos
had been used in that study.)

As a result of Einsiedel's study, when
the commission convened in Scottsdale
last February to summarize its findings,
for one moment it came dangerously close
to passing a logical resolution: that,
according to the evidence, “nonviolent”
and “nondegrading” pornography caused
no harm.

Hudson quickly called a recess. The
commission had to be brought to its
senses. The commissioners met in atc
and Sears announced that any working
papers including the Einsiedel report were
to be secret—in effect, classifying them.
Einsiedel herself, as if privy to the secrets
of the Stealth Bomber, was placed under a
gag order not to talk to thc press.

"That was when Lynn stepped in on
behalf of the A.C.L.U. Suing under the
sunshine laws, which require Government
proccedings to be open to the public, he
forced Meese's Justice Department to back
down. Papers were released, the report
was made public and all hell broke loose.

It seemed that among the papers that
had come to light in the A.C.L.U. action
was a letter that had been dashed off by
Scars. Among the commission's witnesses
had been a Reverend Donald Wildmon of
‘Tupelo, Mississippi, a man driven for the
past several years to monitor all manner of
publications and broadcasts for s
dirt. He puts out a newsletter keeping a
running count of corporations that spon-
sor offensive TV shows and advertisers
who buy pages in rLaveor or Penthouse.

gns of

The newsletter informs its readers that
“SARA LEE IS LEADING PORN PUSHER” and
"* COSMOPOLITAN" FULFILLS DEFINITION OF POR.
NOGRAPHIC." Wildmon testified to the com-
mission that such major U.S. companies
as CBS, Time Inc., Coca-Cola and others
were "distributors of porn" because of.
various direct and indirect connections to
material he deemed offensive, and that
adult magazines had been linked to all
manner of crime and social ills.

As usual, the commission did not cross-
examine Wildmon, who made unsubstan-
tiated charges that eLavsoy and Penthouse
had been linked to “violence, crime and
child abuse.” When it was suggested to
Sears that the corporations named by
Wildmon deserved an opportunity to
answer the charges, his response was to
clip together ten pages from the testimony,
without attribution, and send them to cor-
porate officers with a letter on Justice
Department stationery telling them that
their failure to respond to the unattributed
allegations would “necessarily be accept-
ed as an indication of no objection.”

It was an outrageously effective job of
smearing. Most of the corporations
answered the charges defensively and
hastily, and one of them, the Southland
Corporation, under constant attack by
Wildmon and his pickets and mailing lists
for more than three years for carrying
praysoy, Penthouse and Forum in its
7-Eleven chain stores, capitulated. Be-
tween the letter and the drafts that had
come to light proposing that an offending
store’s assets might be seized, someone at
the Dallas-based company said, “Whoa.
Child porn? ure? The Justice De-
partment? Bail us oul!” All three maga-
zines were promptly dropped in what a
spokesman admitted was a response to the
Meese hearings.

If the commission now proves to be a
menace, I was not among the first to rec-
ognize it. Like those of a Presidential pri-
mary, the antics of the commission had
seemed little more than harmless fun and
games, a lot of holier-than-thou rhetoric
accompanicd by winks of acknowledgment
from the real world. The air of flirtation in
the hearing rooms, the female witnesses in
see-through blouses denouncing porn, the
constant references to sex all had a cari
al-like effect. ‘This can't be serious, right?

So, charged with this sense of the in-
evitability of the sex drive and convinced
that no one was truly intent on putting the
sexual-freedom genic back into the bottle,
I spent too many hours sitting at the hi
ings with La ssuring him that the
republic was not about to fall.

In part, I was
by my conversations with Levine, Becker
and Tilton, all of whom were alarmed at
the prospect of being party to an assault
on the First Amendment and being cast as
the arbiters of individual taste.

All three had been opposed to the fre-
netic pace at which the commission was

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being rushed to its conclusions. Levine
told me that she had refused to join i
ing on positions by mail, because she
thought debate was needed. When Tilton
was about to leave her Los Angeles home
for the final stretch of mectings in ril,
she was startled to receive yet another two-
foot stack of commission sta reports,
memos and proposals for legal changes. As
she said, “We have a 1200-page staff report
to go through and a rival report prepared
by Fred Schauer. My sense is we're not
going to be able to get through more than
one third of this material in the allotted
time. We have asked for an extension and
s not been granted. I feel like Im in
fantasyland.

That morn Tilton was inclined to
look back on her year with the porn com-
mission as time “largely wasted.” Her
only consolation was the fact that she had
pushed through some strong language and
new concepts on child pornography, but
she felt that her concern this area were
being used to support far-reaching meas-
ures for control of adult erotica on which
she was not prepared to act.

In the end, she and the other moderates
won a few battles but lost the war.

The last mecting ofthe commission took
place in a dreary corner of the old granite-
and-marble Federal Home Loan Bank
Board building in northwest Washington.
"The moment of truth was at hi The
commissioners had 72 hours to write and
approve a report that would set out in
detail what American society should do
about the “pervasiveness” of pornogra-
phy, according to Mecse's mandate.

They were 11 men and women, some
hardly speaking to each other, bored to
tears with this material that was supposed
to be more addictive than heroin, looking
at their watches, thinking of the planes
they had to catch. The only problem was,
they didn’t have a report.

What they had was a disjointed, Draco-
nian and moralizing staff summary pre-
pared by Sears, which a number of them
felt was an acute embarrassment—the
same shrill, hysterical document that had
already had an effect, calling for vigilante
groups, for the naming of corporate
“porn” distributors, etc. Schauer had said
that to sign it would be a travesty, and
offered to write his own version, which he
hoped the full panel would endorse.
Schauer, it will be remembered, is the law-
yer who believes that most sexually ori-
ented material does not deserve First
Amendment protection and did not have
major policy differences with Sears's ver-
sion; hc simply didn't want to be laughed
out of court

And so, in the space ofa couple of weeks
before the legal deadline, Schauer wrote a
192-page draft. In its pristine f
discursive but highly opinionated mai
through the history of constitutional law
and censorship, a lifetime's worth of lec-
ture notes by a professor who suddenly

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had a nation for a class. Sears did not want
it on the agenda he had drawn up. The s
sion opened with Ritter's moving success-
fully that the commission use the Schauer
draft as the basic document into which it
would meld Sears's proposals. Since it is
highly probable that few of the commi:
sioners actually read all 192 pages, what
followed was a kind of insanity.

During those final days, the commi
sioners would gather around the table,
which was usually piled high with docu-
ments, as Hudson read aloud from the
Schauer draft. lt made sweeping state-
ments about pornography and the role of
sexuality in America—all of it one profes-
sor’s opinion. Hudson would finish one
ten-page section and ask, “Everyone agree
with the wording?”

The commissioners would then tess new
phrases and wording at each other and,
depending on whether or not they had
been heard amid muttered remarks about
betrayal, proceed to get lost in a thicket of
proposals and counterproposals. No two
commissioners with whom I spoke at the
end could agree on what was definitively
decided during those sessions. One mem-
ber would offer a horse trade on а pro-
posed jail sentence in return for a softer
line on a constitutional question; another
would make a sarcastic amendment to a
hard-line declaration. Entire topics would
be left to be called up for a vote later on—
though some would never be.

“We were told we had to have a prod-
uct,” said Becker. “We couldn't even sce
galleys, because Si usisted that time
didn’t permit. When my colleagues ask
me about this report, I've suggested they
stop reading when they get to this commis-
sion’s recommendations.”

As voting on sections of the draft contin-
ued under deadline pressure, members
would later admit that they were unsure
of which sections were being passed and
which tabled, which votes were binding
and which not. At one point, when
seemed as if an important vote—nothi
less than the exemption of print and cable
from censorship—had been taken, I inter-
viewed Dictz and mentioned the votes that
Га already reported in the Los Angeles
Times, as had other reporters

“We didn't pass them,” insisted Dietz.

I said we should check with Sears. So we
trooped over to his office and, after 15 min-
utes of conversation, established that the
commission had, indeed, voted 6-5 on just
those points—but it was now agreed that
the vote would be recorded as a divided
опе, not as a recommendation of the com-
mission. You figure it out; I couldn't.

One thing on which the commissioners
did agree was that there was no agreement
on the definition of pornography. As an
alternative to a single definition, they
came up with a three-tiered one.

The first part, category one, was to
include sexual violence, and there were no
demurs, even when Dietz said Miami Vice
was an example in this category. No one

ars

quarreled with judging this material offen-
ive, if not necessarily legally obsceni
Category three—defined as nonviolent
pornegraphy that is nondegrading and
nonhumiliating—was also easier to deal
with. That was the category that had come
close to being judged not harmful in
Scottsdale but had instead been recorded
as a split vote at Sears's insistence.

But it was category two—pornography
defined as nonviolent but “humiliating
and degrading"—that gave the commis-
sioners their real trouble. Until the very
end, they were not clear as to what kinds of
materials fell into this class. Did Lady
Chatterleys Lover? Did PLAvBovY? The
debate wore on. Sears passed around ads
and photo spreads from Vogue and Cosmo-
politan and suggested that they, too, might
fit the category. Levine responded with
what one wag called the “Bloomingdale's
exemption," asking, “Do you want to take
on the entire fashion industry? The ads for
Bloomingdale's are just as sexy.”

In frustration, an angry Dobson said,
“Wouldn't you say a photograph of a
woman masturbating, with a look of
ecstasy on her face, is degrading and
humiliating? I would!”

Other members said they would not, as
long as the woman appeared to be enjoy-
ing herself. One commissioner said later
she could not believe that these conversa-
tions were taking place in the final week of
the meetings. The concept of degradation
of women had been introduced to the
panel when Andrea Dworkin testified
before it. She had denounced the “hu
ation” of women in mainstream publica-
tions, and her comments had obviously
caught Dobson's car. What the Christian
broadcaster of traditional family values
had perhaps overlooked was who his new
ally was, for Dworkin had written, in an
attack on the very idea of traditional
heterosexuality, “I think that men will
have to give up their precious erections
and begin to make love as women do
together."

In the middle of the voting, when the.
wrangling and confusion were at their
height, Dietz dropped a bombshell. He
announced to the panel that he had pre-
pared a paper summarizing the "senti-
ments of the commission," though no one
had been asked for one. Reading his newly
minted manifesto aloud, Dietz tried to cut
through Schauer's verbiage and get to
what he saw as the heart of the mat-
ter—that pornography was just no good.
“A world in which pornography was nei-
ther desired nor produced would be a bet-
ter world," Dietz proclaimed. He called
most pornography an "offense against
human dignity," asking all Americans to
shun it because "conscience demands it”!

There it was, as if handed down from
the mountain. Ritter, the Catholic priest
who had been so adamant about con-
demning any form of sex outside marriage,
dramatically removed his white clerical
collar and presented it to Dietz. The dis-

senters, Levine and Becker, were aston-
ished. The moralists were obviously
thrilled: The commission—for a moment,
at least —had been reborn in their eyes.
Hudson asked for a show of hands. No one
is clear on what the vote was, but it was
agreed that Dietz's declaration of morality
would be included in the report as a per-
sonal statement and that the commission-
ers who agreed with it could affix their
names to it.

As can best be reconstructed, what was
voted on and would be recommended as
this article went to press was a series of
battle orders in a sweeping war against
sexual explicitness. The report calls for the
elevation of pornography to a level match-
ing that of drug trafficking or organized
crime: a national emergency. As the final
draft was being prepared by Sears, these
were the major recommendations to the
Attorney General:

* The creation of a national commission-
er—a porn czar—to push for and coordi-
nate more vigorous prosecution of Federal
obscenity cases.

* The forfeiture of assets by any business
found to be dealing in obscene materials,
as is now done with drug traffickers

* Banning the use of performers under
“certain sexually explicit depic-

21
tions."

* A vast computer-bank system, involv-
ing state and Federal cooperation, to pros-
есше producers of porn more effectively.

* The elimination of the requirement, to
trigger Federal intervention, of proof that
obscene materials have crossed a state
line.

* The establishment of an automatic,
mandatory felony conviction—with 20-
year sentences—for second offenses in the
selling of obscene materials.

* The enlistment of the Internal Reve-
nue Service to use its auditing power to go
after porn produce:

* Endorsement of citizens’ action groups
to boycott, picket and “socially condemn”
local sellers of offensive materials, whether
obscene or not.

As noted, the commission agreed to
exempt printed words and cable television.
These categories were strongly defended
by such big guns as Time Inc.’s cable
executives and by top book publishers,
while magazine publishers and film mak-
ers did not show up in strength. (Histori-
ans may wish to note that vibrators, which
were nearly criminalized by Hudson and
Sears—to be left to languish like those
27,000 dildos in the Houston jail—were
allowed to hum on.)

What would come of these recommen-
dations? As far as the law is concerned, the
answers will come from the Government
bodies that must enact the recommenda-
tions. But just as the earlier drafts have
already had an effect on the market place,
so will the final recommendations have
their effect, with or without enactment.

What all the commissioners were con-
cerned about, however, was the report

165

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that would precede the recommenda-
tions—the revised Schauer draft. This was
what was supposed to make sense of the
year and summarize the members’ conclu-
sions. It had been left to Schauer to return
to his university office and assimilate the
votes of the preceding week into his origi-
nal draft report.

It was a daunting task, but the problem
was that he had only five days in which to
perform it. Why? Because, despite the
national implications and the complexity
of what he was to write, he wanted to make
a previously scheduled trip to China.

Schauer delivered. The manuscript is a
testament to the ability of word processors
to merge disparate ideas and contradic-
tory facts into a seemingly consistent
whole. But upon reading it—and not
many will—one realizes that the attempt
to summarize 11 views on hundreds of
points of law and morality and philosophy
is, like the attempt to define pornography
itself, futile.

Schauer accompanied the draft with a
letter to his fellow commissioners inform-
ing them that he would not accept any
changes that weren’t agreed to by the ten
others, including those in "wording and
style and anything other than blatant
grammatical errors.” He wrote that the
report was a “house of cards, as to which
what in itself [sic] appears to be a small
change might ultimately destroy every-
thing.” Then he left for China.

The report does not define pornogra-
phy. In fact, it begins by saying that it can-
not define pornography, nevertheless, it
claims that "degrading" pornography—
whatever that is—was found “likely to
increase the extent to which those exposed.
will view rape or other forms of sexual vio-
lence as less serious than they otherwise
would have.” Schauer adds that as to vio-
lent sexual material, the commissioners
are “unanimous and confident” that expo-
sure leads to antisocial acts and sexual
crime.

The wording in the Schauer draft led
The New York Times to report that the
Meese commission had concluded that
“most pornography . . . is potentially
harmful and can lead to violence." But the
fact is that studies do not suggest anything
like that. Becker, whosc institute in New
York has treated more than 700 sex oflend-
ers and who was originally recruited as the
commission's expert in this field, had just
finished reading the report when I con-
tacted her on the day the Times story
appeared. "It is wrong and it is ludi-
crous," she said flatly. “Not only did we
not define what ‘degrading’ pornography
is but no social science or data has shown
any causal connection between even vio-
lent pornography and crime.” As to the
conclusions’ being “unanimous and confi-
dent,” Becker and Levine were preparing
their own dissent as the Times stor
newsstands

Schauer gave the right wing what it

hit the

wanted —the words, if not the data, to
repudiate the 1970 commission findings
that porn is not a social menace. Virtually
the only erotica given a clean bill of health
were nude statues. “Michelangelo will not
be banned,” Sears said to me soothingly
when I asked him for his score card

Lynn, winding up his watchdog role
from the audience, went back to his office
to prepare a thick briefing book on his
own. In a long discussion after the final
tally, he summed up his perspective.

“Ivs just as bad as I feared from the
onset,” he said. “It calls for a McCarthyite
witch-hunt against material about which
there is no evidence, whatsocver, of harm-
ful social effects. The report has hysterical
statements that presuppose that pornogra-
phy plays a major role in causing a variety
of social ills, even though after a year of
work, the commissioners have not made
the case. Our country would never allow
the regulation of a food additive or a pre-
scription drug on the basis of evidence as
flimsy and tangential as the evidence the
commission has heard to regulate porn.
raphy. The FDA would laugh these studies
out of the agency.

“In my view, they have morally con-
demned virtually every kind of sexually
explicit material, even that which depicts
loving, monogamous

consensual, equal,
sexual activity.”

Dietz conceded that point during a post-
hearing interview. “Pomography is not a
productive substitute for a relationship,"
he said, so why should any of it—except
for a few "art" pictures be protected?
Did he mean there could not be any
redeeming feature to pictures that were
simply erotic? “As a steady dict," said
Dietz, “they аге the source of mischief”

Mischief? At last, it seems clear that the
real issue is that would-be censors are elit-
ists, convinced that while they can wallow
in smut for a year and be unaffected, most
people cannot and must be protected; and
that they alone know best how Americans
should conduct their sex lives.

When Meese announced the commis-
sion to study pornography, he chose his
language carefully. “The formation of
this commission," he announced, “reflects
the concern a healthy society must have
regarding the ways in which its people
publicly entertain themselves.”

Meese didn’t attend the hearings, but
all of this happened under his name, under
the authority of the office of the Attorney
General of the United States. I know
Meese. I even like him. But talk about how
one entertains oneself publicly: I was with
him at the Mayflower Hotel in Washing-
ton, during the 1980 campaign, when he
was a bit tipsy and was eying the scantily
clad cocktail waitresses, as any Rotarian
from Oakland would do when away from
home in the big city. As I might do. This
was the same guy left hanging in public
by the Senate for more than a ycar while
the boys deliberated over whether or not

financial dealings were too sleazy for
him to become the nation's chief law-
enforcement officer.

We all have standards, tastes, as well as
personal centers of hypocrisy, and we all
know it. Maybe we should lead different
lives; maybe some do. But, one might ask,
what have the Feds to do with it? And
what are the all-American, God-fearing
right-wingers doing leading the pack? Isn't
it the most profoundly conservative, pro-
foundly American impulse to keep the
Feds’ noses out of our private business?

In my opinion, much of what is lumped
under the label of pornography is vicious
and disgusting—no question. Sitting at
the hearings, even a purist on the First
Amendment is moved by the truly sad
tales of victims of malicious, pimplike pro-
ducers of seedy porn movies. In my view,
all child pornography is foul, and society
has an overriding obligation to protect
minors. The celebration of violence, sexual
or not, the cheapening of life, male or
female, cannot but have a bad effect on a
society. And that includes Rambo, cele-
brated by Reagan, as well as your low-
budget, X-rated mutilation flick.

But more disturbing than the excesses of
pornography is the denigration of all erot-
ica, making it the scapegoat for the larger
ills of society. I came away convinced that
for all their rhetoric, the majority of the
commissioners were not serious about
decreasing violence or sexual exploitation
in our culture. They were serious about
stopping sex that they didn’t approve of.

They turned their backs on proposals to
go after the much greater amount of vio-
lence found in most R-rated movies in
favor of a crusade against sexual explicit-
ness. They consistently went after erotica
instead of violence, despite irrefutable evi-
dence from virtually every witness, friend
or foe, that it’s violence, not sex, that’s the
problem. Becker said bitterly that she had
tried in the final days to raise the topic of
marital rape—which is still legal in some
states—but Sears refused to consider it. In

its zeal to make the nation march together
in a lock step to paradise, the commission
also rejected programs for sex education—
proposals made by commissioner Deanne
Tilton, its own expert on child abuse-
because those programs ran against its
notion of the proper Christian fami

Ina piece on Reagan (The Reagan Ques-
tion, pLavoy, August 1980) during the
1980 Presidential campaign, I predicted—
crroncously, it may turn out—that hc
would not be a hard-liner on this type of
issue. 1 cited the freer lifestyles chosen by
Reagan's children, with his apparent ap-
proval, as evidence of his essential toler-
ance, his apparent faith in the ability of
the next generation to make personal-life-
style decisions frec from the heavy hand of
Goyernment-sanctioned conformity. This
is a President who seems, by all accounts,
to be untroubled and even pleased that his
son Ron has found gainful employment as
a Contributing Editor of this publication.

In any case, until the formation of the
Meese commission, I figured that the reg-
ular denunciations of porn I would hear
from Reagan, Bush, Meese and points
right were just rhetoric to please the fun-
damentalist fringes who vote. After all, as
Reagan said during a 1980 interview with
me for the Los Angeles Times, he wasn't
born yesterday. When we discussed the
pervasiveness of loose morals, he pointed
out that he'd been a Hollywood actor and
even quoted from the trial of Oscar Wilde:
“I have no objection to anyone’s sex life, so
long as they don’t practice it in the street
and frighten the horses.”

Something disturbing has come out of
these hearings. Never mind frightening the
horses. In their zeal to make the nation
conform to their tastes, the more za
members of the Meese commission have,
as McCarthy did, twisted the very ideals of
freedom they claim to cherish. 105 not
what we may do in the streets that these
people fear. It's what we do in our heads.

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TIP SHEET
FOR THE ROAD

‘Travel newsletters come and
travel newsletters go, but one
that’s just been launched,
Winston's Travel Discoveries
(“an exclusive guide to hotels,
inns, resorts and restaurants
world-wide”), has, we think,
all the carmarks of a tip sheet
that’s going to stick around.
Winston's reads good, like a
newsletter should; and it’s
stulfed with savvy, inside info
on a variety of places, from
San Francisco restaurants to
castle hotels of Scotland. The
price: $30 for six issues, sent to.
the publication at P.O. Box C,
Sausalito, California 94966.

IT ALL ADS UP

“Long-legged Sugar Daddy—75, 7-It. slam-
dunker enjoys slo breaks and full-court press. No
dribbling. Looking to play with a. . . .” You get
the idea. Desperately Seeking (“The madcap
game of romance in the want ads!) lets you kick-
start your libido in a race against the clock to
compose a personal ad from 35 word cubes
Baron/Scott Enterprises, 8804 Monard Drive, Sil-
ver Spring, Maryland 20910, sells Desperately
Sccking for $10, postpaid, or check out your
neighborhood naughty-geme store.

FOODIES’ VIEW FROM THE TOP

Eighty-two of Manhattan's top restaurants are
pinpointed on Alan E. Cober's acrial drawing of
Manhattan. And in case that docsn’t give you an
appetite, restaurant info (credit cards accepted,
etc.) and a minireview are included in the mar-
gin. Great Restaurants of New York is available

as а 27" x 30" poster for $25 from Postermotions,
17 East 48th Street, New York 10017. There's

also a limited-edition (350) litho that, at $250, is
about the price of a great meal.

(ROO CEN
is, 1

GRAPEVINE

Oh, Those

Pearly Cates

Actress PHOEBE CATES is seriously adorable.
She's also busy, currently in an off-Broadway play,

Rich Relations, and collaborating with rock pro-
ducer Jellybean Benitez on an album. Go, Phoebe!

King Richards

Admit it, you've never seen this man smile. KEITH RICHARDS
has survived everything, intact. The Stones’ latest opus, Dirty
Work, is running up the charts, and the old Devils of rock even
picked up a lifetime Grammy this year. Not bad. Even if the
entire group doesn't make it to the stage this summer, look in
your neighborhood concert hall for Keith. He's ready to roll.

«1988 ROBERT MATHEU

Cyndi's Big Adventure

Do CYNDI LAUPER and PEE-WEE HERMAN know
how to have fun? You bet! Cyndi's long-awaited
second album is almost finished, and we hear that
Pee-wee may have a first album in the works. He's
also looking for a movie as a follow-up to his screen.
debut in Pee-wee's Big Adventure. Whatever they do,
they're good for a laugh.

Not Just
Another
Fish Story

Transplanted American beauty
ı S SYDNE ROME is not live bait.

She is a woman of many accom-

plishments—a singer, an actress, a
best-selling author, an aerobics apos-
Че and the star of a French/ltalian TV
show. So what's the fish angle? Simple.
Would we have published a photo of
her autographing books? Too con-
ventional. This caught our eye.

LARI / FORUM / LIAISON,

‘ALAN HOUGHTON

Ava, as in Rave-a
Playboy Channel viewers will remember AVA CADELL as
the hostess of Pillow Previews. Even if you don't get cable,
you've seen her on Hotel, Mike Hammer and Dallas. Your
TV is broken? No sweat; you've got us. Think of this very
sexy shot as a kind of public service. Don't you deserve to
see the very best?

1985 PAUL NATKIN : PHOTO RESERVE INC.

The Return of Oz

This time, rocker OZZY OSBOURNE has not bitten off more than he 4
сап chew. Say what you will about living a dean Ше: It works.
Osboume has his first ever top-ten album, The Ultimate Sin, а success- 2,
ful tour and a follow-up album planned. On to the Emerald City, Oz. ir
Les
te |
|

Our Kind of
Kelly Girl

You know KAREN
KELLY from two TV
soaps, Capitol and
Rituals. Taking pity on
those of you who have
to work during the day,
we present a little bit
more of Karen.

ALAN HOUGHTON

176

NEXT MONTH

FARMERS” DAUGHTERS

CAMPUS FASHION, HIT BRAKES!

“THE VCR DATE”—THE ETIQUETTE OF GOING OUT BY
STAYING IN, WITH HINTS ON WHAT GOES WELL WITH
WHAT'S PLAYING—BY KEVIN COOK; PLUS: “THE
ETHICS OF DUBBING”—A TREK THROUGH A MORAL
QUAGMIRE—BY P. J. O'ROURKE; “TWENTY-FIVE BEST
GUYS’ MOVIES”—YOU KNOW, THE WILD BUNCH, THE
GODFATHER: FILMS THAT MAKE YOU PROUD TO BE A
MAN—BY JAMES R. PETERSEN; “TWENTY-FIVE BEST
GALS’ MOVIES"—GONE WITH THE WIND, REBECCA,
WUTHERING HEIGHTS: PICTURES THAT DRIVE WOMEN
CRAZY—BY ANNE BEATTS; “NUCLEAR POPCORN"—
THE DEFINITIVE RUNDOWN ON MICROWAVED
KERNELS—BY TERESA GROSCH; AND “HEAVY
BREATHING”—A LOOK AT THE LATEST TREND IN
ADULT FILMS—BY BRUCE WILLIAMSON

GREGORY HINES REMINISCES ABOUT TAPPING WITH
HINES, HINES AND DAD, INTERRACIAL MARRIAGE
AND GETTING THE FEEL OF A MOVIE ROLE BY WATCH-
ING AUTOPSIES IN A SHARP “20 QUESTIONS”

*PRIZZI'S FAMILY”—IN A PREQUEL TO PRIZZI'S HON-
OR, MAEROSE TRIES TO ROPE CHARLEY INTO MAR-
RIAGE—BY RICHARD CONDON

HUSH PUPPIES

“FARMERS' DAUGHTERS"—NO JOKE; THESE PIC-
TURES ARE THE GENUINE ARTICLE

“HIT THE BRAKES!"—FIRST ESSENTIAL OF STREET
SMARTS: BRING YOUR CAR TO A STOP BEFORE IT
GETS TOO INTIMATE WITH ANOTHER ONE

“WHY THEY LOVE US IN THE PHILIPPINES”—FOR
STARTERS, OUR NAVAL BASE AT SUBIC BAY PROVIDES
WORK FOR 16,000 NATIVE PROSTITUTES. A WALK ON
THE WILD SIDE OF OLONGAPO, BY THE AUTHOR OF THE
CULT CLASSIC EDDIE AND THE CRUISERS—P. F. KLUGE

“HUSH PUPPIES”—THE A.S.P.C.A. WOULDN'T APPROVE
OF PAUL'S METHOD OF KEEPING THE NEIGHBORS’
DOGS QUIET—BY STEPHEN RANDALL

PLUS: “BACK TO CAMPUS FASHION”; ANDREW
TOBIAS’ “QUARTERLY REPORT” ON “SPREADS”;
ROBERT M. (THE WINE ADVOCATE) PARKER, JR.'S, AD-
VICE ON “WISE MOVES WITH YOUR WINE DOLLARS”;
“PLAYBOY'S PRO FOOTBALL FORECAST,” BY ANSON
MOUNT; “THE CAR-HOP COUCH”; AND MUCH MORE

Under this unit's sleek exterior

What separates Spectrum 2 from
all the rest, however, is its unique

display — areadout between 1 and 9
that visually tells you when you
Й øg | havelockedonto police radar and
= „d just how quickly you need to react.
Б = photo cell automatically dims or
еп this display to make it
easier to read in any light.
Spectrum 2 also boasts a micro-
processor which reports a separate
warning for X and K bands, allows

ONEOF THE FEWROAD MACHINES
THAT PERFORMS AS WELL AS OURS.

you to set your alarm's initial
response level to avoid annoying
false alarms, and controls many
other functions — all with the mere
touch of a single button.

Or you can simply plug your unit
in and drive.

This is ишта, detection engi-
neering at its finest. And Spectrum 2
is backed by an exclusive 3 year war-
ranty. The most comprehensive ever.

‘or ate brochure тышы. 2
tion on where to purcl A
call 1-800-531-0004. In ge

Whistler “211-617 692-3000.

SpECTRUM 2

LIGHTS: 10 mg. “tar”, 0.8 mg. nicotine,
KING: 17 mg. “tar”, 1.3 mg. nicotine,
av. per cigarette by FTC method.

/ ê ıgot what

it takes.
2 D

SHANE LAE SITO,
ira ns NEESER

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

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