PLAYBOY

27

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Panasonic
WSOmniMovie

Panasonic presents
the candid truth about video systems.
They're not all the same.

Ask some candid questions before you buy a video The new Panasonic PV-1742 gives you VHS hi-fi
system. Take the time to find out the differences sound through your stereo system, and much more.
between formats and features. So Itcan receive stereo TV broadcasts,
you won't be surprised later, when actually turning your ordinary TV into
its too late. astereo TV. There's also HQ circuitry,
THE TRUTH ABOUT THE WORLD'S a Tech-4"" four-head system, and

MOST POPULAR FORMAT s afull-function wireless remote that will
Last year 9 out of 10 people who Г even let you program up to 8 shows
bought video recorders chose VHS. | | over 3 weeks from across the room.

Almost every video rental store ————— \ So, when it comes to video—
carries movies in VHS. That's TS ^ whether it's video tape, high-resolution
not true with other formats. And since your friends and stereo TV, or an incredibly sophisticated all-in-one
relatives probably also own VHS, sharing tapes is easy. x audio/video system—look
PUTTING CAMCORDERS IN FOCUS at Panasonic.
All camcorders can shoot home movies. But not all ласыз E
camcorders make it as easy as the new Panasonic | опса Б MES
OmniMovie"PV-300. With auto focus, auto exposure le d 29 mu
and a power zoom lens, nothing beats OmniMovie [ЕП he S T
for capturing your kids in the act of being themselves. youne n M
It can even shootby the light of just one birthday ey
candle. And HQ circuitry electronically
enhances the image, while CCD microchips =
replace the pick-up tube, ensuring reliability. sx €——
But OmniMovie is more than just a 3
camcorder. Because it uses full-size VHS
tapes, it can also play back thousands of pre-
recorded movies right on your TV.
REVEALING FACTS ABOUT HI-FI VIDEO SYSTEMS

Most of today's blockbuster movies are
being released on videotape with hi-fi sound.
They can actually make your house sound
better than most movie
houses. Butif the hi-fi
video system you buy
isn't VHS, you may

find it hard to find the
movies you wantto see.

Panasonic.

just slightly ahead of our time.

J TV pictures simulated

THE PANASONIC LAS VEGAS PRO-AM.
APRIL 29-MAY 3,1987. SEE IT ON NGC.

It's not just where you take the music,
it’s where the music takes you.
Panasonic portable CD players.

Imagine a place where there is no noise. Abso-
lute silence, broken only by the purest, cleanest
music you've ever heard. That place is inside
your head. And you can hear that incredibly pure
music on any of the portable Compact Disc
players by Panasonic.

CD IN THE PALM OF YOUR HAND.

While the sound from this Panasonic
portable CD player, SL-NP20, is
something to behold, its also very easy
to hold. Connected to its ultra-thin
rechargeable battery pack, the CD player
and quartz-synthesized stereo tuner
all fit in the palm of your hand. Whether
you use headphones* or connect it to
your home stereo, you'll hear the music
more intensely than ever before.

THE CD WITH A HANDLE.

Fire up the Compact Disc player

musical sparks fly. But as impressive as its
sound may be, theres even more: Dual cassettes
with auto reverse and Dolby! An FM/AM/FM-
Stereo tuner. And detachable two-way speakers.
CD HITS THE ROAD.
The new Panasonic car CD, CQ-E800, puts CD
sound in gear. Its four-way suspension system
helps keep the music smooth, even if the road
isn't. The stereo receiver has preset tuning and
digital readout.

Panasonic portable CD players have many
ofthe same features as our advanced home unit,
SL-P 3620. Likethe FF-1 Fine Focus Single Beam
laser which helps keep the music on track. And
sophisticated programming which lets you pick
or skip songs automatically.

The Panasonic portable Compact Disc
players. Where you take them is only half the

trip. Where their sound takes you is the

in the Panasonic RX-CD70 and | Other half. boe n a mgmered vedemart ol Dot
ү чү A тем of Doby Lab.

Portable CD
RX-CD70

Panasonic.

just slightly ahead of our timee

Panasonic introduces the telephones
you can't get from the telephone company.

At Panasonic, we know what you want in a telephone.
Sophisticated features and great styling. That's what
these new Panasonic phones give you. In combinations
you cant find in phones from the telephone company.
And one thing impossible to find in any other phone.
The Panasonic reputation.

A TELEPHONE SO SOPHISTICATED IT

HAS A BUILT-IN ANSWERING MACHINE WITH
ONE-TOUCH CONTROL.

The KX-T2385 is a compact, easy-to-use telephone
system. For starters, it's a sophisticated telephone.
You can program up to 12 phone numbers for speed
dialing. Dial three emergency or frequently
| called numbers by touching one button.

And full-size, lighted push buttons
make it easy to make
evening calls.
The built-in answer-
ing machine uses
only one micro-
cassette and
comes with
Auto-Logic.” Just
touch Auto-Logic
once and the machine
will play your messages, геміпа your tape and
automatically reset itself for new messages. When
youre not поте, you can even get messages by
remote from any push-button tone phone without a
remote device. What could be easier?

| OUR INTEGRATED PHONE WITH
AUTOMATIC DIALER AND SPEAKERPHONE
HAS A LOT MORE TO SAY FOR ITSELF.

The VA-8205 does it all. It can automatically dial up to
32 phone numbers at the touch of one button. The

_ built-in speakerphone allows hands-free conversation.

_ There's even а“Заме” feature that lets you store a busy
number into memory and call it

back at the touch of a button,
even if you've called other
numbers inthe meantime.
And it even offers
hearing aid com-
patibility. So
someone with
a hearing aid
won't get the
“feedback”
it can cause.

WITH OUR CORDLESS PHONE YOU WON'T SOUND
LIKE YOU'RE CALLING FROM ANOTHER PLANET.

The KX-T3815 cordless phone is
designed to function on the new-
est FCC approved channels.
Which means static and
interference are mini-

mized.The KX-T3815, E
which is available in 4 >
three colors, is also <

tone/pulse switch-

able. So it can work with

tone or rotary dial service and any
long-distance service. You can select your own
personal security code to help ensure no one can
eavesdrop on you or dial out on your phone. You can
even page between the base and handset. And unlike
some cordless phones, the KX-T3815 has a battery
you can change yourself and avoid an expensive service
charge. What could be more simple?

A BASIC PHONE WITH MORE THAN JUST
THE BASICS.

The KX-T2204 is a terrific basic phone that gets better.
It has full-size, rubberized, illuminated push buttons
powered by the phone line. Which makes
| nighttime dialing easy. You can program up
| to 12 phone numbers into the phone's
memory for speed dialing. Even dial three
emergency or frequently called
numbers at the touch of a
single button. Electronic
“Hold” lets you put a call
on hold and then pick
up the conversation
when you pick up any
extension in your home.
And with a Program-
mable Timed Flash button, special telephone services
like call-waiting and call-forwarding are easy to use.
And the KX-T2204 comes in six decorator colors.
What could be more beautiful?
So if you want these sophisticated features
and great styling, in combinations you can't get
from the phone company, there's only one name
to call on.

Panasonic

just slightly ahead of our time.

Hennessy

the civilized way
_tounwrap

The world’s most civilized spirit №
е TO

AS THIS ISSUE was going to press, a Federal judge ruled that the
constitutional rights of blind persons had been violated when
Congress cut funds for a Braille edition of rravsoy. Even though
the Braille edition contains no pictures, it is the sixth-most-often-
requested magazine by the blind who patronize this Library of
Congress service. To those readers we say, welcome back. It's
nice to be in touch again

Leading off our Christmas offerings is Bandits, by Elmore Leon-
erd, an excerpt from an upcoming Arbor House book. The story
is set in New Orlcans, Leonard's home town. Leonard, who in
1985 topped the national best-seller lists with Glitz (also pre-
icwed in PLAYBOY), is presently at work on a novel about the
Detroit police bomb squad. Thomas McGuane makes a return
appearance in our pages with Partners, an inside look at a law
firm where ambitious attorneys have to decide whether to cover
themselves in glory or in flannel. Robert Silverberg, onc of the
grand masters of science fiction, contributes Blindsight, in which
a man goes to a planet of fugitives in scarch of the doctor whose

genetic experiments robbed him of his vision. And wrapping up.

the fiction is a surprise guest appearance by that most mahvelous
of minds, Billy Crystal. The star of Saturday Night Live and Run

ning Scared turns author with Earth Station Charley (illustrated
by Philippe Вера). Crystal’s hero hooks up a satellite dish that
brings the whole world into his living room. Sort of like this issue
of rtAvgOY, only with more wires.

Our nonfiction starts with the state of civilization as we know
it. Civilization Revisited, a ten-page extravaganza, covers tuxe-
dos, champagne, gracious dining and precision dancing, with
help from Jeremy Irons, Jay Leno, some of America's great chefs
and the late Jorge Luis Borges. Herbert Geld, novelist and longtime
PLAYBOY contributor, visits the other end of civilization: Haiti
After Baby Doc. Gold has made about 25 trips to Haiti and lived
there for a year and a half. Baby Doc is a moody look at corrup-
tion, cruclty and cheap life. Speaking of famous heirs, check out
Rock Brats, compiled by Jean Penn. Penn hopes to turn these
interviews into a screenplay about a rock family.

We move on from civilization to law with Courting Disaster, an
article by former Attorney General Ramsey Clark (from the days
when the Attomey General was one of the good guys). Clark analyzes
the Supreme Court’s recent decision on sodomy. A companion
chart spells out, state by state, forbidden pleasures in America.

John D. Spooner, author of Sex and Money (our two favorite top-
ics), looks at insider trading in Beating Wall Street: Confessions of
an Insider (illustrated by Isadore Seltzer). Do brokers have inside
information? Yes. Does it make them rich? Almost never.

Personally, we get our financial advice from Коко, the signing
арс. We sent Bob Crane to interview the world’s second-most-
famous gorilla; the result is a stunning 20 Questions. For a more
traditional but no less entertaining conversation, we sent Con-
tributing Editor David Rensin to interview Bryant Gumbel. We for-
got to ask him about the rumor that Koko—in a surprise switch
back to the original format of the Today show—is being
considered as a replacement for Jane Pauley. We're surprised
Koko didn't make Sex Stars of 1986 (text by Jim Harwood).

For those of you who buy рілувоу in the original form (with
tures), we have our usual collection of stocking stuffers.
There's a portfolio of Gorgeous Girls by Patrick Demarchelier, with
text by Bruce Jay Friedman, and Women of 7-Eleven, produced by
Managing Photography 1 Jeff Cohen and photographed by
Contributing Photographer David Chan. You remember 7-Eleven,
don't you? It was the place where some of you used to stop to pick
up a six-pack and the latest рилувоу. When its management
rolled over for the Meese commission, wc decided to check in with
some of our favorite check-out girls. They show what they think
of that decision in a great pictorial. Beats a Big Gulp any day

Borbora (Re- Animator) Crampton is menaced by new monsters,
and there's an exclusive Christmas ornament by Keith Hering and
Christmas comic relief from Bob Boze Bell. Happy holidays.

PLAYBILL

LEONARD.

ve.
MC GUANE,

CHAN, COHEN

LAYBOY

vol. 33, no. 12—december 1986 CONTENTS FOR THE MEN'S ENTERTAINMENT MAGAZINE
PLAYBILL . 7
THE WORLD OF PLAYBOY 15
DEAR РІДҮВОҮ................... 19
PLAYBOY AFTER HOURS .. 23
SPORTS „DAN JENKINS 36
ASA BABER 38
CYNTHIA HEIMEL 41
AGAINST THE WIND. ...... TA ....... CRAIG VETTER 43
THE PLAYBOY ADVISOR? Ее 45 TONE
DEAR PLAYMATES: WHAT ARE THE BEST AND THE WORST PARTS OF SEX? . 49
THE PLAYBOY FORUM" CO er 53
PLAYBOY INTERVIEW: BRYANT GUMBEL—candid conversation . 61
CIVILIZATION REVISITED— compendium. 7B
CHAMPAGNE 82
WHAT THE GREAT CHEFS ARE FIXING AT HOME FOR THE HOLIDAYS 84
TANGO AMERICANO——erticle....... JORGE LUIS BORGES 86
PARTNERS— fiction . ... THOMAS MCGUANE B8
PATRICK DEMARCHELIER'S GORGEOUS GIRLS... tent by BRUCE JAY FRIEDMAN 92
BLINDSIGHT— fiction ROBERT SILVERBERG 100
CHRISTMAS 19B6—humor . Ex BOB BOZE BELL 103
HAITI AFTER BABY DOC—article . HERBERT GOLD 110
WOMEN OF 7-ELEVEN—pictorial |. 112
EARTH STATION CHARLEY— fiction. . . . BILLY CRYSTAL 122
ROCK BRATS . . compiled by JEAN PENN 124
KEYS—playboy’ 's Eget of the month 126
PLAYBOY'S PARTY JOKES—humor . LAAF.: . 138
BANDITS— fiction. . . ELMORE LEONARD 140
THE 12 STORES OF CHRISTMAS— modem living ER 142 Dallas Delight
BEATING WALL STREET—article. .. . JOHND.SPOONER 148
HARING HANG-UP кел 151
SEX STARS OF 1986—pictorial . „text by JIMHARWOOD 154
THE PLAYBOY GALLERY . 165
COURTING DISASTER—ar! “RAMSEY CLARK 170
SIMPLY BEASTLY—pictori 174
20 QUESTIONS: KOKO. 182
FAST FORWARD . : 8 ET DAS 188
PLAYBOY ON THE SCENE... 1... авео ag Ann ады Кард. 249 Shop till You Drop

COVER STORY Brooke Shields isn't just ornamental; she's warm, funny
and unaffected, as Contributing Photographer Stephen Wayda discovered
while shooting this month's cover. Produced by Art Director Tom Staeb-
ler, the cover design is by Managing Art Director Kerig Pope. Lee Ann Perry
wos the stylist and Ruthie Savin did Brooke's hair and make-up.

PLAYBOY

10

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date. There isa subtle yet insistent alarm and a switch-
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PLAYBOY

HUGH M. HEFNER
editor and publisher

ARTHUR KRETCHMER «editorial director
and associate publisher
TOM STAEBLER art director
GARY COLE photography director
G. BARRY GOLSON executive edilor

EDITORIAL

NONFICTION: JOHN REZEK articles editor; FIC-
TION: ALICE К. TURNER editor; TERESA GROSCH (1550-
сийе 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 wrileri; PETER
MOORE, BARBARA NELLIS, KATE NOLAN, SUSAN
MARGOLIS-WINTER (new york) asociate editors;
BRUCE KLUGER assistant edilor; KANDI KLINE traffic
coordinator; MODERN LIVING: ED WALKER (550-
ciate editor; PHILLIP COOPER Assistant editor; FASH-
ION: HOLLIs WAYNE editor; CARTOONS: MICHELLE
URRY editor; COPY: ARLENE BOURAS editor; JOYCE
RUBIN assistant editor; CAROLYN BROWNE, STEPHEN
FORSLING, DENRA HAMMOND, BARI NASH, MARY ZION
researchers; CONTRIBUTING EDITORS: asa
BABER, E. JEAN CARROLL, LAURENCE GONZALES, LAW
RENCE GROREL, DAN JENKINS, D. KEITH MANO, ANSON
MOUNT, REG POTTERTON, RON REAGAN, DAVID RENSIN,
RICHARD RHCDES, DAVID SHEFF, DAVID STANDISH.
BRUCE WILLIAMSON (movies), GARY WITZENBURG

ART
KERIG POPE managing director; CHET SUSKI. LEN
WILLIS senior directors; BRUCE HANSEN, THEO KOU
VATSOS associate directors; KAREN GAEBE, KAREN
GUTOWSKY junior directors; JOSEPH PACZER assist:
ant director; FRANK LINDNER, DANIEL REED, ANN
SEIDL art assistants; BARBARA HOFFMAN administra
tive manager

PHOTOGRAPHY

MARILYN GRABOWSKI west coast editor; JEFF COMEN
managing editor; LINDA KENNEY, JAMES LARSON,
JANICE MOSES, MICHAEL ANN SULLIVAN associate edi
lors; PATTY HEAUDET assistant editor; томо
POSAR senior staff photographer; DAVID MECEY
KERRY MORRIS staff photographers; DAVID CHAN.
RICHARD FEGUEY, ARNY FREVIAG, RICHARD IZUI, STE
THEN wav contributing photographers; TRIN
HERMSEN, ELYCE KAPOLAS stylists; JAMES WARD color
lab supervisor

PRODUCTION

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

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

CIRCULATION

RICHARD SMITH director; ALVIN WIEMOLD subscrip-
tion manager

ADVERTISING
SAUL STONE director

ADMINISTRATIVE
J P пм DOLMAN assistant publisher; MARCIA
TERRONES rights & permissions manager; E
KENT contracts administrator

PLAYBOY ENTERPRISES, INC.
CHRISTIE HEFNER president

A GREAT GENERAL
CAN WIN ANY WAR.

n Une
ЧЫ SERIES. =
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LAS LER
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ESNE ml

1986 MILTON BRADLEY CONPANY

‘THE GAMEMASTER SERIES IS A REGISTERED TG ADEMARI™
OF THE MILTON BRADLEY COMPANY. ASUBSIDIARY DF
HASBRO. ING

Get ready.

Recently, Video Review magazine asked engineers will make a stunning addition to any living room.”

ata world renowned independent testing facility to Then they turned it on.

evaluate the 36-inch XBR projection monitor/receiver. "The resolution of the 36XBR is the best we've
They were impressed even before they turned it on. ever tested for a rear-projection set. All the other
"This set should spell the end of bulky, unattrac- aspects of picture performance were unbeatable as

tive rear-projection monitor/receivers. Its sleek lines well. The image even looks good when it's viewed
and elegant, high-tech feel embodied in its design from a sharp angle"

© 1986 Sony Corporation of Ameria. Sony. Tenitron, and The One and Only are trademarks of Sony Quoted trom Video Review. Sept 1986,

The 36-inch XBR is here.

And finally, after every foot - Lambert, mega- With the 36XBR, Sony has not only solved these
hertz and decibel was measured, scrutinized and problems but has also come up with a full-featured,
analyzed, it all went back to the technical editor at top-of-the-line monitor/receiver that can compete
Video Review who summed it up. with the best of the direct-view sets available today"

"Not long ago, the virtues of a rear-projection In other words, the 36-inch XBR will move you.

monitor/receiver would have been offset by its lack Tri nitr on XBR S eri es SONY.

of picture brightness and its restricted viewing angle. "THE ONE AND ONLY.

THE NEW LOOK
OF VANTAGE.

VANTAGE ©

RICH FLAVOR LOW TAR

Same great taste
in an exciting new pack.

SURGEON GENERAL'S WARNING: Cigarette
Smoke Contains Carbon Monoxide.
9 то. "tar", 0.7 mg. nicotine av. per cigarette by FTC method.

© 1985 R. J. REYNOLDS TOBACCO CO.

THE WORLD OF PLAYBOY

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

DREAM MATCHES

At the annual Midsummer Nights Dream
gala at Playboy Mansion West, actor Lee
Majors and his favorite date, 1985 Playmate
of the Year Karen Velez (left), are obviously
going strong after two years together, while

wife, Carrie (inset below), enjoy the party. At
right, Hef and Los An-
geles mayor Tom Brad-
ley chat at Bradley”:
annual Pro/Celebrity
Tennis Classic while
watching one of the
celebs, Hands Across
America promoter Ken
Kragen (inset), play on
the Mansion courts.

Christie at National Press Club

The first time Playboy Enterprises, Inc., President
Christie Hefner was at the National Press Club
was in 1979, when her dad was the guest speaker.
Last August, she was the widely applauded speaker.
Christie covered a wide range of topics, from cen-
sorship to feminist pornography. In one provocative
statement, she quoted the dissenting opinion of the
Meese commission's Judith Becker: “'[The com-
mission] began with the ultraconservative premise
that a majority considered masturbation, oral/genital
sex, premarital sex to be antisocial behavior.’ I'm not
goingto embarrass those of you ofthe press by asking
for a poll of your personal sexual behavior, but! would
venture to say if the above-mentioned activities are all
crimes, I may not be the only criminal in this room.”

CAGNEY, LACEY AND TWEED

No, it's not a law firm. It's our way of
heralding 1982 Playmate of the Year
Shannon Tweed's recent appearance
(below) in an episode of CBS-Televi-
Sion's popular Cagney & Lacey series.

HONG KONG
WELCOMES FIRST
CHINESE PLAYBOY

Featuring Hong Kong movie star
Cheng on its cover, the first Chinese
edition of PLAveov sold out its entire
press run of 50,000 ina scant 36 hours.

Judge (Ruthless People) Reinhold and his |

ANCHORS AWEIGH

On board the good ship pLayaoy, navigat-
ing New York Harbor during the Statue of
Liberty centennial celebration, are (inset
below) Executive Editor G. Barry Golson
and Contributing Editor Ron Reagan.

“Dazzle Him
„With ‘PLAYBOY...
ll Year Long!

Brighten his new year with a gift of
= PLAYBOY. Each issue, sparkling
with brilliant writing and sen-
sational photography, will

be a reflection of your

good taste. Give now—

pay nothing until

next year.

first 12-issue gift. $ 2 for each additional gift.

GIVE MORE/SAVE MORE $ 2 (Save $19.00*) (Save $21.00*)

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D Start or renew my own subscription.

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*Based on $43.00 newsstand price.

Rates apply to U.S. U.S. Poss, APO-FPO addresses only.
Canadian git rates: First gift $35; additonal gifts $33.

For each gift of PLAYBOY
you will receive this
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Or Order by Phone

Mai your order to: PLAYBOY
Dept. 7ACB4
P.O. Box 51679
Boulder, Colorado 80322-1679

24 Hours a Day.
Call TOLL-FREE 1-800-228-8500

7ACB4

A brief fashion
statement in a shape,
a size, a color for
every body.

Try On The Feeling!

Briefs by Ruby International, Inc., 20 W. 33rd St, New York, NY 10001
€ 1986 Playboy Enterprises, Inc. PLAYBOY and RABBIT HEAD DESIGN are marks of and used under license from Playboy Enterprises, Inc.

DEAR PLAYBOY

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

HEARTBERN

Carl Bernstein, the subject of Septem-
ber’s Playboy Interview, is finally getting
his just deserts. He couldn't let his first
book, All the President's Men, be the final
nail in the coffin of President Nixon. No,
he had to delve into Nixon's sex life and
personal torture to reap more profits at the
expense of a man already down. Now,
with ex-wife Nora Ephron's book and
movie Heartburn out, Bernstein has been
hit with a left and a right. It is his turn to
be kicked when he's down.

As a writer myself, I think the first rule
ofjournalism is to get the job done without
stepping on too many toes, because you
never know when it may come back to
haunt you. Bernstein burned too many
bridges, starting in his own bedroom. He
has lost his credibility as а journalist, lost
his job at ABC, lost his wife and has been
accused of being a boozing womanizer. ГИ
bet Nixon is snickering just a little, but
even Nixon is too much the gentleman to
stoop to kicking a man when he’s down.
Get up, Bernstein, as Richard Nixon did,
and take it like a man!

Austin Teutsch
Austin, Texas

In the introduction to the September
Playboy Interview, Carl Bernstein's ex-wife
Nora Ephron is quoted as characterizing
Bernstein as a man “capable of having sex
with a Venetian blind.” Speaking from
experience, I have to ask, What's wrong
with that? Let’s face it: A Venetian blind
makes no great demand. It opens and
closes at the touch of a hand.

(Name withheld by request)
New York, New York

I've just finished reading the Playboy
Interview with Carl. Bernstein, and one
question keeps nagging me. In real life,
Ephron and Bernstein have two children,
both sons. The same is true for Rachel and
Mark in the book Heartburn. So why the
switch to two daughters in the film? I can't
help but feel that whoever was behind it

believed that audiences would be less con-
demning of Mark's/Bernstein's marital
behavior as a father of two girls rather
than of two boys.

Amy Anderson

Green Bay, Wisconsin

COMING CLEAN ON THE PHILIPPINES

I found Р. Е. Kluge's article Why They
Love Us in the Philippines (pLavuov, Sep-
tember) to be another fine example of your
high journalistic standards.

It would have been easy (not to mention
commercially viable) for you to have pub-
lished some sort of lurid malc-fantasy
piece, something like The Philippines: Land
of the Cheap Fuck—Where Any Nerd Can
Be a Superstud and Screw His Brains Out
for Less than Il Costs to Take Susie May
Bowling Back Home. You could have done
that, and every word of it would have been
true. But you knew that was only half the
story, that not all in the Philippines is the
stuff wet dreams are made of. By publish-
ing Kluge's article, you showed us that the
Filipino hookers are more than just the
“Tittle brown fucking machines" the Navy
wife spoke of. You let us see their bleak
lives and shattered dreams, let us hear the
voices of those who try to deal with the
degradation that comes with unrestricted
flesh peddling. An exploitative publica-
tion, one that wished to show women only
as sex objects, would never have shown us
the dark side of paradise or published the.
views of such people as Father Cullen or
Chief Taylor. The idca of playing a game
of smiles is enough to get any man's imagi-
nation going, but the thought of one-year-
old Valerie flicking her tongue when her
mother whispers “Blow job” makes the
true nature of the situation all too real.

Lee DuBose
Pensacola, Florida

Alter reading Why They Love Us in the
Philippines, all 1 could do was sit back and
let the memories flow. It was 1966 when
this horny 19-year-old first crossed Shit
River along with my buddies from the

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just slightly ahead of our time,

19

PLAYBOY

gunnery division on the U.S.S. Markab.
What a great time we had. Of all the
places I had been, Olongapo was the best.
Where else in the world could a bunch of
teenagers go bar hopping, get buzzed on
ice-cold San Miguel, get laid three or four
times and never spend more than 20
bucks? 1 was a sucker for those six little
Joc, you want short time?” I
nks, rLavnoy, for bringing it

words
sure
all bac

Andy Cappellano
Chicago, Illinois

As a yeoman first-class petty officer
serving on board the nuclear-powered air-
craft carrier 0.5.5. Enterprise, 1 read with
great interest P. F. Kluge's article Why
They Love Us in the Philippines. As а flect
sailor currently serving a third consecutive
sea tour and having spent in excess of half
my current enlistment deployed to the Far
East, I have spent numerous memorable
occasions on liberty at Subic Bay, Repub-
lic of the Philippines. Kluge's article was
obviously well researched and candid and
accurately depicted Subic Bay as a sea-
weary sailor's paradise. However, with all
due deference to the many loyal, dedi-
cated, seaworthy Filipino sailors with
whom I have served, Olongapo and Subic
City represent only a. minute fraction of
the total population of the Philippines. For
every person who has fallen victim to the
quest for the American dollar, there are
hundreds of people who, condemned to
poverty, proudly continue to struggle,
leading lives of quict desperation
Manuel DeCounto Barboza Ш
USS. Enterprise

IT'S A DOG'S LIFE

I have read PLAYBOY for many years and
have defended its quality literature on
numerous occasions. However, 1 was dis-
appointed to find a story as thoroughly
tasteless as Hush Puppies, by Stephen
Randall, in your September issue.

We have just lost our family dog, which
my husband had given to me as a sort of
engagement present. The dog had a flaw-
less personality, was wonderful with chil-
dren, never raided garbage cans and
wouldn't have dreamed of annoying the

ighbors. He was shot on a Saturday at
6:15 лм, We have reason to suspect some-
one in our neighborhood but have been
unable to prove it thus far. Camberley did
not die immediately. We took him to the
vet; he was operated on that evening. He
had extensive liver damage but seemed to
improve for several days following the sur-
gery. He later took a turn for the worse
and died, after lingering and suffering for
5, as а result of a perforated gall
and other complications. It w.
I watching our best friend d
lly knowing that his death was the
lt of a stupid, senseless human act

You condone such idiocy when you fea-
ture a story such as Randall's. 1 am even

5

pure
especi;
r

more appalled if this was your editors’
idea of a humorous tale. Please be mor
sensitive in the future,
Debra Hicks
Cordova, Tennessee

"Thanks for Stephen Randall's advice on
how to silence the neighborhood. Tell any
antihumor, animal-rights activists who
complain about the story to go chase а
car!

Now, ifonly I could do somethi
the cats... .

g about

Erik Mathise:
Amprior, Отаг

MENSA CADENZA

Just a note to let you know about the
enthusiastic response from PLAYBOY readers
to your generous pictorial The Women of
Mensa (November 1985). Mensa, of
course, is the international society for peo-

ple who have scored in the upper two per-
cent on an accepted standardized 1.0.

tes

1. Since The Women of Mensa appeared,
Mensa has answered more than 16,000
inquiries from в aders, many of
them women. More than 700 readers have
ned our membership, and thou
sands more are in the testing phase. For
nine dollars, we'll send eLayBoy readers an
at-home test that may indicate whether ог
not they are Mensa material. Write to
American Mensa, Ltd., Department 7A,
2626 East 14th Street, Brooklyn, New Yor

ad-
a is

We're glad 10 welcome глуроу7$ r
ers. We hope they'll discover that М
both intellectually stimulating and as
much fun as er hoy itself.

y E. Shaughnessy, Chairman
an Mensa, Ltd

FAIR BALL GIRL

Your photographs of Cubs ball girl
Marla Collins (Belle of the Ball Club) made
the September issue another collector's
item. Congratulations to pıavnov for show
ing all her fans that Marla is beautiful in
and out of uniform.

How can Tom Cooper, the Chicago
Cubs’ director of stadium operation:
think that Marla Collins’ pictorial
embarrassing for the organization?
Doesn't he see the publicity that she has
ted lor the team? The Chicago
as we all know, can be seen from
t to coast daily, thanks to cable televi
sion. 1 believe more people would turn on.
Cubs games or, for that matter, go to the
ball park, just to get a glimpse of the Cubs"
breath-taking ball girl

coa

Marc J. Mozak
Si y, lowa

Did I miss something in the sports sec-
tion of the paper? Did the Cubs name

Jerry Falwell as the general manager, or
did the Moral Majority, which is neither,
take over ownership of the club? What I
m referring to is the pressure on Marla
to quit just because she appeared in
PLAYBOY.

I guess it makes sense, though. With no.
lights at Wrigley Field, the Cubs have
been in the Dark Ages for so long that they
can't see past the ends of their noses.

J. J. Thomas
Lawrence, Kansas

STRONG-ARM FLATTERY
I have read pLaynov for many a year, but
I can't remember a sexier photo than that
of September Playmate Rebekka Arm-
strong on page 94. God bless America!
Chester Farrell, 11
Cranston, Rhode Island

HOW'RE YOU GONNA KEEP 'EM UP IN THE
CITY AFTER THEY'VE SEEN THE FARM?
Your Farmers! Daughters pictorial in the.
September issue proves that California
farm girls, such as the unbelievable Lacy
Mercer, are the finest in the land. I'd like
10 sec a spread just on her.
Donald Trimborn
Hawthorne, California.

I really enjoyed the pictorial Farmers"
Daughters in the September issue. The
blue ribbon has to go to Annie Smith. She
may be the best-looking girl I have ever
seen in PLAYBOY, and Гуе been subscribing.
for 15 years. The amazing thing is that she
looks this good with all her clothes on! I
sure would like to sce her without those
bib overalls. She looks like a future
Playmate of the Month to me. How about
one more picture?

Larry Barnes
Louisville, Kentucky

We had requests to publish “just one more
picture" of every one of the women in “Farm-
ers’ Daughters," Larry; but you luck out,
because we received more requests for Annie's

=

than for any of the others. Maybe Frederick's
of Hollywood should start marketing bib

overalls,

| FASHIONABLE- A
= FORMIDABLE:

ATHLETIC... Y A e
FOOTWEAR = = 779 5,

^ Eschsivoiconseo S. and Canada. inni yn noe VON OU С:

© 1986 Miller Brewing Co Milwaukee, Wi.

ld's great beer drink-
ing countries. Bri 1, in England, Sweden,
Canada, Japan, са: Only Lówenbráu, by
license and аий arian Hallertau hops

y by the brewmasters
'enbráu gives you 600

PLAYBOY AFTER HOURS

WE HARDIY KNEW YE

The last time we checked in with Sherri
Foxman (Playboy After Hours, March),
she had married a blow-up rubber doll at
The Winking Lizard Taverne in Cleve-
land. As a combination publicity stunt/
antimatrimony statement, it was good for
a few laughs. The gig made the papers and
Foxman made her point.

But that was March. What has Ohio's
favorite 36-year-old — author/humorist/
comedienne and all-round cult heroine
been up to since?

She's into the funeral business.

Yup. On Friday, July 11, Sherri, who'd
by then dubbed herself the Widow Fox-
man, donned a black nightie and veil and
headed over to the Bcachwood Marriott in
Cleveland, where she threw a 420-guest
funeral—for casual sex.

Complete with 14-регзоп Gospel choir
(which, instead of singing “Amen,”
chanted ““Sha-boom!” at appropriate
intervals), 22-page prayer book (sample
passage: “Casual sex was my shepherd/I
shall not want it/It maketh me lie any-
where and everywhere"), ushers, eulo-
gists, pallbearers and a most reverent
minister, the funeral
than expected

The first clang of the funeral bell, how-
ever, was close to being a death knell for
Foxman's well-laid plans: The American
Legion post in Warrensville Heights,
Ohio, whose hall was the original locale
for the funeral, backed out at the last min-
ше under pressure from locals, forcing
Foxman and her fellow mourners to look
elsewhere. Luckily for them, the staff at
the Marriott had a more highly developed
sense of humor.

At the ceremony's climax, mourners
joined a procession past the coffin, enthu-
siastically tossing in relics of their last
flings with sexual promiscuity. Among the
contributions: edible underwear, condoms
of every color, a Johnny Mathis album,
crab-and-flea shampoo, nude photos of ex-
and present wives and girlfriends, pictures
of offspring resulting from casual sex,

made more noise

smoked oysters, vibrators, a rubber glove,
a speculum, a genuine automobile back
seat, orgy butter, motion lotion, an
answering machine, a wallet with a
rubber-ring impression and a copy of
pravaoy. The Widow Foxman's dad even
tossed in his nitroglycerin pills for good
measure.

Not all the guests, however, were sup-
portive. A small group of ladies showed up
to denounce as bogus the death of casual
sex. They wore T-shirts with their phone
numbers written across the chests.

After the funeral, mourners were asked
to autograph the coffin, While гм GOING
HOME TO SIT SHIVA ON MY BOYFRIEND'S FACE Was
our favorite inscription, others included
RIGOR MORTIS 15 А WONDERFUL THING IN А МАМ;
YOU NAY BE DEAD, BUT I STILL HAVE MEMORIES—
AND VIDEO TAPES; EASY CUM, EASY GO; and FOR
FORMAL SEX, CALL ME.

Foxman—who proudly boasts “three
broken engagements, 17 ex-boyfriends, an
overweight adult life, severe anxiety, 13
years of analysis and periodic premen-
strual syndrome"—is ecstatic about the
funeral fallout.

“This whole thing really caught on,”
she said, beaming. “I did lots of interviews
and talk shows. During one radio show, I
was asked why I thought / should be the
designated widow for casual sex. I said it
was because I'd been in every parking lot
in town. I don’t think the station manager
appreciated that.”

Eventually, Foxman hopes to throw a
party celebrating the inevitable resurrec-
tion of casual sex. “I figure it'll happen
when people stop being so scared about
the occasional fling," she says. “АЙ the
men will have to come to the party with
hard-ons. . . . Only that leaves out most of
my male friends."

LIFESTYLES OF LE CHIC AND TRENDY

Even as the great Cajun conflagration
rages on in our favorite restaurants, black-
ening American fish and poultry from
coast to coast, another part of the Cajun
experience is aimed at the national atten-
tion span—which we loosely define as the
amount of time it takes for a trend to get
from David Letterman's lips to David
Hartman's ears. Get ready for Cajun
dancing, the latest night-life fad in New
Orleans. Some nights, famed spots
Tipitinas and the Maple Leaf become
Cajun dance halls, booking such attrac-
tions as Bruce Daigrepont’s Band,
Michael Doucet and Beausoleil, Rockin"
Dopsie and the Twisters and Fernest
Arceneaux and the Thunders. If past is
prologue, we can expect Cajun waltzes
and two-steps to come ир the river any day
now.

Cajun dancing is a touching, graceful
endeavor that would cause any of our
mothers to swell with pride if we learned
how to do it right. Since its intricate steps
require some tutoring, New Orleans lately
boasts a new cottage industry—Cajun
dance lessons. Of course, most people
there don't bother with lessons, so the two-
step becomes a contact sport—human
bumper cars set to music. Sore feet and
bruises are the frequent results. So when
this latest Cajun rage arrives at a dance

23

P. SINGLES |

You know how it is. You've attended

4793 weddings. And, not counting the
odd anniversary or two, you've spent
approximately $15,000 on bridal pres-
ents and bachelor parties in exchange
for a vast number of warm champagne.
toasts and all the beef Stroganoff you
could eat. You've rented tuxes; you've
bought the Russ Meyer video and
packed it off to the bachclor party. And
by now, you're an expert on crystal
stemware, Baccarat salad bowls and
Marimekko sheets. Then, one day, it
hits you like a bridal bouquet served by
Martina Navratilova: Why don't you
own any crystal stemware? When was
the last timc you hcated up the leftovers
in Le Creuset cookware? Do you pos-
sess even one set of matching sheets
and pillowcases? Just take a look
around.
Start with the kitchen cabinets. Face
Their contents resemble the side-
walk sale at which you bought them.
How disconcerting to raise high a glass
of Chardonnay and sec Fred Flintstone
and Barncy Rubble grinning back. And
the bedroom—that ashtray on the
night table. Which is it—Holiday Inn,
Howard Johnson's or Budget 8? The
fitted sheet you bought ten years ago
not only doesn’t match your pillow-
cases but is so shrunken that it pops off
at the slightest stress, should you be so
lucky.

The well-adjusted single person
could endure this brand of destitution
with far more grace И he weren't
dogged by filigreed memories of exqui-
site purchases sclected as wedding pres-
ents over the years, Enough finery to
furnish an apartment that even Leona
Helmsley would enjoy. The Cuisinart.
The Tiffany champagne flutes. The
Baccarat fruit dish. The Williams-
Sonoma balloon wineglasses, the flat-
ware, the hand-painted Italian pasta
dishes, the Bionaire 1000, the deluxe
Scrabble sct and more goodies too
painful to itemize.

But what do single people get? They
get even. How? Simple—Singles Aid.
Tt works like this. Doubtless, you've
noticed recently how happy people are
to contribute to good causes—par-
ticularly ones that hit close to home.
Hey, what could be closer to home than
you, their friend, neighbor, possibly
relative? Now's the time to put Lionel
Richie on the tape deck and throw
yourself a benefit. It's just like а wed-

ding reception but with a difference.
You'll be there, all right, greeting your
friends and relations and collecting
nilty presents—only thing is, you won't
be getting married. Consider it your
official coming out as a single person.

For maximum public sympathy, pick
a logical excuse for a party: your 2151,
30th, 40th birthday, a new apartment
or—perfect—a broken heart. Be sure
to invite all your married friends. Let
them know, as they're forking over the
patterned silverware, that not only are
you having a great party and raking in
the loot but you're still single. They
will, essentially, be helping you furnish
your bachelorhood. Before the big
event, you might even consider having
a friend throw you a shower at which
guests would be expected to spring for,
say, bottles of Moét to go into that
highly anticipated new silver cham-
pagne bucket, the Beatles оп compact
disc for your soon-to-be-received CD
player and so on.

When your married friends check
out the cool rock club you've comman-
deered for the occasion (contributed to
the benefit by a local club owner who,
in the present profusion of causes, will
donate to anything ending in Aid),
they'll drool. And wait till they realize
they can actually dance to the music—
which isn't being played by a group in
plaid pants called Freddie and the
Ferns. Your friends’ envy will turn to
admiration as they wonder how they
sweated through those cheese-ball
affairs of their own at The Four Pump-
kins out in Suckahaug, Upstate,
U.S.A.

But don't let it stop there: Rub it in!
Hire a few stand-in brides whose gar-
ters you can toss to the crowd for tradi-
tion's sake. You'll find potential brides
in the personals, often listed under
FANTASY ENGOUNTERS. They can ассот-
pany you as you table-hop, collecting
those valuable envelopes from the rela-
tives. But before you leave to go on that
two-week vacation in the Caribbean for
which your folks are paying, let your
best buddies know that you're still the
same lovable guy you were before you
got, uh, benefited. Reassure them that
someday, after you get back from Mar-
tinique, and as soon as their divorces
come through, you'll be happy to have
them over to your refurbished digs fora
game of poker, black tie optional.

—PETER OCCHIOGROSSO

hall near you, you probably ought to learn
how to dance defensively. We're just wait-
ing for some guy to start bragging about
his blackened-blue marks.

MODEL MUSIC

Rosie Vela, the Ford Agency photogra-
phers’ model who now has a recording
carcer, is also one of the women in the ads
for Pantene perm conditioners—the ones
with the quote “Don’t hate me because
I'm beautiful” running the width of the
page. Over tea one day, we asked Vela if
she felt hated for her beauty. It seemed
we'd hit a sore spot. “I hate that ad!
"That's not my quote— I'd never say that!”
she told us. And by the way, she added,
her hair's naturally curly.

WHITE-COLLAR CRY

In a study on sex roles, sociologists at
the University of Illinois discovered that
men in white-collar jobs tend not to cry
very often, because, well, they're just
happy. Their good jobs and higher educa-
tion protect them from the blues that
usually trigger crying. Blue-collar guys,
however, tend not to cry because they
believe in being tough. For the record,
only three percent of the men surveyed
had cried in the previous week, compared
with 19 percent of the women. The
researchers also found that younger
guys were less hesitant to cry than older ones.

E

With terrorists treating Americans like
clay pigeons, maybe you've canceled your
plans to tour Europe. If you're staying
Stateside, here's another way to see the
great cities of the world, sort of. Your
itinerary follows:

Got a mule whose name is Sal? Take her
to Erie Canal Village in Rome, New York—
justa short haul by barge from the Oneida
County Airport, which, like the airports
near other locations on this list, is thought
to be free of political terrorists.

In Athens, Georgia, you'll forget the
Acropolis when you sce the Tree That
Owns Itself. Long ago, а University of
Georgia man studied under the trec. Hc
later bought it and willed the Jand around
the tree to the tree itself. Drive to Dearing
and Finley streets—but don’t hit the tree,
fenced off in the middle of the road.

Don’t take coals to New Castle, Indiana.
Take a basketball and sce the Chrysler
High School gymnasium, which, with a
capacity of 9314, is the largest high school
field house in the world.

In Moscow, Idaho, you can stroll through
the McConnell Mansion (home of the
Moscow Historical Society) without en-
countering a single K.G.B. agent.

Paris, Texas: Don't miss the Махсу
House (home of the almost famous Sam
Maxey) and its many divans and rugs.
Cox Airfield is located just cight miles
from downtown Paris, but no planes fly in
there anymore. Instead, you can take the
northeast Texas Flier bus from Dallas all
the way to Paris.

By BRUCE WILLIAMSON

orriciauy described as a follow-up rather
than a sequel, Martin Scorsese's The Color
of Money (Touchstone) can stand shoulder
to shoulder with The Hustler, which hus-
tled nine Oscar nominations back in 1961.
(Walter Tevis' story was first published in
PLAYBOY in 1957.) “Money won is twice as
sweet as попсу earned,” snaps Раш New-
man in a vibrant, enriched reprise of his
role as pool shark Fast Eddie Felson. For
Newman, а superstar who welcomes risk
and improves with maturity, his portray
als of Eddic, then and now, merge into onc.
shining entity among the scrcen's classics.
Color of Money lcaps ahead 25 ycars, гс-
introducing Eddie as a liquor salesman
who now bank-rolls other pool hot-shots
for a hobby. He sces his own upstart ori:
gins in ап arrogant, unbeatable Chicago
kid named Vince (Tom Cruise), whom he
lures away from his supermarket job to
train for the big time ш Atlantic City.
Eddie leaves his own lady (Helen Shaver)
sulking back home but takes along Vince’s
livc-in bimbo, played Бу Mary Elizabeth
Mastrantonio (see Fast Forward), for
noral support. Even her sex appcal is
part of his plan: “We've got a race horse
here . . . а thoroughbred. You make him
feel good, I teach him how to run.
Scorsese, also on a hot streak, draws us
to the mystique of gambling coupled
ith an intensive character study that is
tually about excellence and the will to
win. Richard Price's hang-tough screen-
play is complemented by scenes set in
smoky pool halls and dingy hotels, looking
like the wrong side of everywhere. While
the movie is handed to Newman on a plat-
ter, his own quarter century of savvy
makes it a silver one, reflecting generously
on all present. Cruise in particular shows
he's a real actor as well as Top Gun's top
hunk. Teaming him with Newman should
span the gencration gap to make Color of
Money irresistible to women. Guys will
line up, too, because nonviolent man-sized
movies of this high caliber are becoming
virtually extinct, УУУУ

.

On Broadway, the Tony Award-
winning Children of а Lesser God (Para-
mount) was an admirable, downbeat

problem drama about a deaf young
woman and an idcalistic teacher who falls.
love with her while trying to break
through the barriers of anger and silence
she uses in self-defense. On film, in a
seamlessly opened-up adaptation directed
by Randa Haines (whose controversial TV
movie Something About Amelia won an
Emmy), Children has become a wrench-
ingly beautiful love story, Much of the
magic stems from an eloquent perform-
ance by William Hurt, an actor who seems
to keep floodgates of feeling just below the

Hurt, Matlin electrifying in Children.

Let's hear it for
The Color of Money and
Children of a Lesser God.

overflow point. Hurt’s sexual chemistry on
screen (and reportedly off screen as well)
with hearing-impaired actress Marlee
Маши produces the heat to make thi
spirited newcomer's movie debut both a
personal and а professional victory,
though she speaks nary a word through-
out. Dramatic license, of course, demands
that Hurt consistently repeat aloud what
is being communicated in sign language,
in effect, voicing subtitles. The device takes
getting used to but fades into the scheme
of things as the film's fine supporting
company—some deaf youngsters backed
by such seasoned players as Philip Bosco
and Piper Lauric—banishes bathos with
intelligence and gutsy good humor. "The
trite hearts-and-flowers ending doesn’t live
up to what has gone before, but even that
scems forgivable, measured against Hurt's
gallant anguish as а man who can no
longer bear listening to Bach without his
loved one's sharing it. ЭЗИЛ
.

Another scintillating star turn by Kath-
leen Turner almost saves Peggy Sue Got
Married (Tri-Star). Almost. Turner,
ed with a very light touch by Fra
pola, squeezes every particle of pathos and
wry humor from her title role as a woman
who passes out from excitement after
being crowned queen of her 25th high
school reunion. Still conscious of her pres-
ent existence as a 40ish wife and mother,
separated from her philandering husband,
Charlie (Nicolas Cage, Coppola's nephew
and much too callow a co-star for Turner),

Peggy Sue returns to 1960, her senior year,
and gets to look at life with the curse, or
blessing, of foresight. Bits of this turn out
to be charming. Unfortunately, though,
Back to the Future got there first, through
no fault of authors Jerry Leichtling and
Arlene Sarner, whose screenplay was sup-
posedly kicking around before Future
came to pass. Even so, that rollicking
hits verve and inventiveness make the
Leichtling-Sarner plot look pallid. Grant-
ing a deep bow to Kathleen, everything
Peggy Sue can do has already been done
better, ¥¥

P
Writer-director David Lynch's surreal,
hypnotic, sex-charged and bizarre Blue
Velvet (De Laurentiis) should pad his rep-
utation as a creator of cult films. Lynch,
who began to shake things up cinemati-
cally with Eraserhead, The Elephant Man
and the disappointing Dune, is still a
skilled manipulator. He spins a tale of s
ual obsession and claustrophobic terror in
a Middle American town where every
picket fence and privet hedge seems to be
hiding something evil. Kyle MacLachlan
(who played Dune’s young hero) is a pas-
sionately curious lad who comes upon а
severed human ear in a meadow. That odd
discovery leads him to a local detective's
daughter (Laura Dern), then to closer
ncounters with a tortured torch singer
(Isabella Rossellini) whose child may ог
may not have been kidnaped by a para-
noid drug dealer (Dennis Hopper, on one.
of his kinkier head trips). Required to
embody the mystery ofa screenplay that is
wickedly imaginative but often incoherent,
Rossellini struggles through the tide song
(a Bobby Vinton classic) and even slips
out of her clothes occasionally, all to no
avail—she’s a fascinating, lovely actress in
a mostly meaningless role, “It’s a strange
world," MacLachlan observes from time
to time, as if to explain Blue Velvet's lapses
into gratuitous violence and vulgarit
The real explanation is that this time,
Lynch went overboard while testing how
fara maverick moviemaker can go. YY
.

Writer-director Bob Swaim, an Ame
can in Paris who usually makes French
movies, makes a muddled English mess of
Half Moon Street (Fox). Even Sigourney
Weaver and Michacl Caine are defeated
by Swaim’s flaccid direction and wobbly
script (based on a novel by Paul Theroux),
something about an American callgirl
with a Ph.D. In fact, she's ona fellowship,
speci: ing in Middle Eastern affairs, and

i
claims to have written her doctoral thesis
on the Chinese economy, but that stuff

doesn't pay enough for a liberated girl
about town. Саше plays а ranking English
lord whose efforts to promote peace in the
Middle East mark him as an assassin's tar-
get. Reel by recl, Weaver takes her clothes

25

PLAYBOY

26

Escort Refuses!

Dear Customer,

From: Drew Kaplan

Escort turned down our $10,000 head to head challenge described below. Escort says that Mexon's Radar Detector is
“primitive”, “bottom-end” and “an off-shore produced electronics ‘gadget’ ". | don't know about you, but to me these words
conjure up visions of a cheap toy being produced off in the middle of a rice paddy somewhere in the middle of nowhere.

Escort, on the other hand, which is
made in the U.S., exudes a high cost,
quality image. Don't you just bet that it
costs a fortune to build Escort and Pass-
port (the smaller version)?

Well, we are going to challenge Es-
cort AGAIN to a head to head 'duel to
the death' on Maxon's electronic merits
alone. And, we plan to win. But first
there are a few things you should know.

Cincinnati Microwave, the company
that makes Escort & Passport, is a public
company. And being public, they have to
file financial information with the SEC.

The public information they have pub-
lished appears to show that in the year
that ended Dec. 19B5, Cincinnati Micro-
wave with "substantially all of its revenues
and profits derived from the sale ofradar
warning receivers" made an operating
profit of about $45,810,000 on sales of
about $112.605,000. Wow!

The $45 million profit is after all en-
gineering, selling and General & Admin-
istrative expenses, but before taxes.

Their cost of sales (goods) was only
about $40,027,000. So, if you divide
$40,027,000 by $1 12,605,000 it doesn't
take a genius to figure out that cost of
goods represents an average of only
about 35.5% of selling price. Wow!

1 only bring up their profit to illustrate
that a high retail price doesn't always

WAS $10,000

mean a high manufacturing cost.
There's no question in my mind that
Maxon can manufacture cheaper in an off-
shore ‘rice paddy’, but if you pay $245 for
Escort or $295 for Passport, itshould be
based on a head to head test with Maxon,
not on perceived retail price points.
FORGET PRICE COMPLETELY
So, forget that Escort costs $245,
Passport $295, and Maxon $99°. Let's
judge them on their own merits. And,
let's look at just what Escort itself has to
say about our challenge. (Please read
DAK's and Escort's letters to the right.)
Escort says that, “Regardless of the
results, such an event lends credibility
to the challenger.” Well, they are abso-
lutely correct. That's why | put up the
$10,000 in the first place. Fair is fair.
Plus, there are several radar detectors
that claim to have won this or that rank-
ing in "Independent Magazine Reviews.”
So, I'm ignoring any reviews and asking
for a one on one, head to head test.
But look at what Escort says in their
letter: "Range is the easiest detector
quality to measure, but by no means the
only important quality.” Wow, | thought
range was really important?? Escort re-
fers to "goodness" being determined by
things not so easily measured.
Well frankly, | don't know how to mea-
sure "goodness". Escort, in my opinion,

is a top notch company. They make а
superb product “а be proud to sell. And,
they have great customer service.

DAK has great toll free technical and
regular customer service. But, I'd be the
first to admit that with over $45 million
in profits, Escort can probably run cir-
cles around us in advertising, and may-
be even in service. But, | don’t think they
can beat Maxon's Radar Detector.

HOW GOOD IS GOOD?

When Escort was introduced, it was
revolutionary. But, you can only go so
far. And in my opinion (someone else
might object), radar detecting has gone
about as far as it can go. So, while Escort
has made improvements, it's Maxon who
has moved mountains to catch up.

DAK UPs THE ANTE TO $20,000

Now I realize that next to $45 million
dollars, $20,000 isn't much, butit's a lot
to DAK. And, l'il even go one step farther.
I'll print the exact results of the test, win,
lose, draw, or no-show in the first catalog
I publish after January 1, 1987.

Escort, the ball is now in your court.
Below is the “NEW” version of my chal-
lenge with the time and amount changed.

1 don't know what else DAK or Maxon
can do to prove that the RD-1 Superheter-
odyne Detector should be judged on its
head to head performance against Escort,
not on its selling price!

$20,000 Challenge To Escort

Let's cutthrough the Radar Detector Glut. We challenge Escort to a one on one Distance and Falsing 'duel to the
death' on the highway of their choice. If they win win, the $20,000 (was $10,000) check pictured below is theirs.

By Drew Kaplan

We've put up our $20,000 (was 10).
We challenge Escort to take on Maxon's
new Dual Superheterodyne RD-1 $99%
radar detector on the road of their choice
in a one on one conflict.

Even Escort says that everyone com-
pares themselves to Escort, and they're
right. They were the first in 197B to use
superheterodyne circuits and they've got
a virtual stranglehold on the magazine
test reports.

But,the real question today is: 1) How
manyfeet of sensing difference, if any, is
there between this top of the Maxon
Detector and Escort's? And 2) Which
unit їз more accurate at interpreting real
radar versus false signals?

So Escort, you pick the road (contin-
ental U.S. please]. You pick the equip-
ment to create the false signals. And
finally, you pick the radar gun.

Maxon and DAK will come to your
highway with engineers and equipment
to verify the results. And oh yes, we'll
have the $20,000 check (pictured) to
hand over if you beat us by more than 10.
feet in either X or K band detection.

BOB SAYS MAXON IS BETTER

Here's how it started. Maxon is a mam-
moth electronics prime manufacturer.
They actually make all types of sophis-
ticated electronic products for some of
the biggestU.S. Electronics Companies.
(No, they don't make Escort's).

Bob Thetford, the president of Maxon
Systems Inc., and a friend of mine, was
explaining their new RD-1 anti-falsing
Dual Superheterodyne Radar detector
to me. | said "You know Bob, I thii
Escort really has the market locked up.
Не said, "Our new design can beat thei

So, since l've never been one to be
second place, | said, "Would you bet

DAR
DETECTOR

DUAL SUPERHETERODYNE
maxon

$20,000 (10) that you can beat Escort?”
And, as they say, the rest is history.

By the way, Bob is about 69" tall, so if
we can't beat Escort, we can sure scare
the you know what out of them. But, Bob
and his engineers are deadly serious

about this ‘duel’. And you can bet that
‘our $20,000 (was $10,000) is serious.
Next Page Please

- . Challenge Continued

We ask only the following. 1) The public
be invited to watch. 2) Maxon's Engin-
eers as well as Escort's check the radar
gun and monitor the test and the results.

3) The same car be used in both tests.

4) We'd like an answer from Escort no
later than December 31, 1986 and 60
days notice of the time and place ofthe
conflict. And. 5) We'd like them to come
with a $20,000 (was $10,000) check
made out to DAK if we win.

SO.WHAT'S
DUAL SUPERHETERODYNE?

Ok, so far we've set up the conflict.
Now let me tell you about the new dual
superheterodyne technology that lets
Maxon leap ahead of the pack.

It's a technology that tests each sus-
pected radar signal 4 separate times
before it notifies you, and yet itexplodes

into action in just 1/4 of one second.
Just imagine the sophistication of a
device that can test a signal 4 times in
less than 1/4 of one second. Maxon's
technology is mind boggling.
But, using it isn't. This long range de-
tector has all the bells and whistles. It
has separate audible sounds for X and K
radar signals because you've only got
about 1/3 the time to react with K band.
There'sa 10 step LED Bar Graph Meter
to accurately show the radar signal's

strength. And, you won't have to look at
a needle in a meter. You can see the Bar
Graph Meter with your peripheral vision
and keep your eyes on the road and put
your foot on the brake.

So, just turn on the Power/Volume
knob, clip it to your visor or put it оп your
dash. Then plug in its cigarette lighter
cord and you're protected.

And you'l have a very high level of
protection. Maxon's Dual Conversion
Scenning Superheterodyne circuitry
combined with its ridge guide wideband
horn internal antenna, really ferrets out

radar signals.

By the way Escort, we'll be happy to
have our test around a bend in the road
or over a hill. Maxon's detector really
picks up ‘ambush type’ radar signals.

And the key word is ‘radar’, not trash
signals. The 4 test check system that
operates in 1/4 second gives you ex-
tremely high protection from signals from
other detectors, intrusion systems and
garage door openers

So, when the lights and X or K band
sounds explode into action, take care,
there's very likely police radar nearby.
You'll have full volume control, and a
City/Highway button reduces the less
important X band reception in the city.

Maxon's long range detector comes
complete with a visor clip, hook and
loop dash board mounting, and the power
cord cigarette adaptor.

It's much smaller than Escort at just
3%" Wide, 4%" deep and 1%" high. It's
backed by Maxon's standard limited war-
ranty. Note from Drew: 1) Use of radar
detectors is illegal in some states.

2) Speeding is dangerous. Use this
detector to help keep you safe when you
forget, not to get away with speeding.

CHECK OUT RADAR YOURSELF
RISK FREE

Putthis detector on your visor. When
it sounds, look around for the police.
There's a good chance you'll be saving
money in fines and higher insurance
rates. And, if you slow down, you may
even save lives.

If you aren't 10096 satisfied, simply
return itin its original box within 30 days
for a courteous refund.

To get your Maxon, Dual Superheter-
odyne, Anti-Falsing Radar Detector risk
free with your credit card, call toll free or
send your check for just $99% ($4 РЕН).
Order No. 4407. CA res add tax.

OK Escort, it's up to you. We've got
$20,000 (10) that says you can't beat.

Maxon on the road. Your answer, please?
соп and Passport sre registered trademarks ol Cincinnat Microwave.

ВАК

Cali Той Free For Credit Card Orders Only
4 Hours A Day 7 Days A Week

1-800-325-0800
For Toll Free information, Call ВАМ-5РМ Monday-Friday PST
Technical Information. .. .1-800-272-3200
Any Other Inquiries. -1-800-423-2866
8200 Remmet Ave.. Canoga Park, CA 91304

27

PLAYBOY

28

off at regular intervals, perhaps to draw
attention away from the lines she’s asked
to deliver, such zingers as “Don't put
walls around me, Sam . . . China was full
of walls." In the public interest, Swaim's
Street ought to be signposted as a dead
end. Y

.

Director Franco Zefhrelli’s extravagant
Otello (Cannon) is grand opera made
easy—also cut down to size for mass
consumption. With supertenor Placido
Domingo singing his heart out as the
macho Moor of Venice, Katia Ricciarelli as
his doomed Desdemona and Justino Diaz
as a fairly stolid but solid Tago, Giuseppe
Verdi’s musical tragedy on film ought to
match the huge success Zeflirelli had with
La Traviata. The magnifying realism of
cinema emphasizes staginess, at times
threatening a conflict between mere ham
and the majestic theatricality of the score,
and purists are sure to quibble about
excised scenes and missing passages of
music. Here, nonetheless, is an accessible.
overwhelmingly handsome movie version
of a classic—a potent shot of cultural
adrenaline for millions who would ordi-
narily nod ofTat the opera, ¥¥¥

.

Paul Hogan may as well be identified as
Mr. Australia. His “Come down under"
TV commercials were a media marvel,
and his first major film role, in "Crocodile"
Dundee (Paramount), has already made
box-office history in his homeland. where
he-man Hogan is virtually а national
institution, Dundee's straightforward pop
romance is a star vehicle that goes a step
beyond Hogan's TV pitches for the tourist
trade. He plays a legendary great white
hunter in Australia’s scenic Northern Ter-
ritory, tracked down by a fetching blonde
journalist (Linda Kozlowski) from News-
day. The movie is a his-and-hers affair,
the more conventional first half on his
turf in the jungle wilderness, the second
half back in Manhattan, where he man-
ages to woo the girl reporter away from her
pompous editor-fancé (Mark Blum).
"Why do you always make me feel like
Jane in а Tarzan comic?" she asks her
favorite Aussic. Well, ше know the answer.
But Dundee is such engaging bicontinental
poppycock that we don't mind being had
by Hogan's heroics. ¥¥

.

To kecp sparks flying aboard The Light-
ship (Castle Hill), Robert Duvall and
Klaus Maria Brandaucr pool their king-
sized talents lor a showdown at sca. Polish-
born director Jerzy Skolimowski's taut
drama of confrontation (based on a novel
by Siegfried Lenz) echoes the mysti
and claustrophobia in such previous Skoli-
mowski movies as The Shout and Moon-
lighting. Set in 1955 on а vessel anchored
off the Virginia coast, Lightship is moralis-
tic, sometimes muddled but still a bracing
exercise in suspense. Brandauer seethes as
the captain whose crew of six, including
his sullen teenaged son (played by

Domingo as a macho Otello.

Otello comes to the screen;
Aussie hunk escapes TV;
Duvall sends up Buckley.

Skolimowski's son, Michael Lyndon), is
held hostage by three desperate men res-
cued from a disabled motor launch.
Duvall is the brains of the trio, a malevo-
lent but affectedly elegant evildoer named
Caspary. Even with Brandauer as his
adversary, Duvall steals the show handily
through the simple trick of making the vil-
lain а nigh-perfect impersonation of con-
servative pundit William F. Buckley, Jr.
Every florid gesture, every staccato into-
nation is exactly right. The proof is in the
puton. W%
D

Four men preparing the food for a coun-
try weekend talk about women and sex
Meanwhile, four women getting into
shape at a high-tech health club talk about
men and sex. АП аге horny, highly articu-
late intellectuals connected, one way or
another, with the history department. of
a French-Canadian university. бо be
warned that The Decline of the American
Empire (Cineplex Odeon) is not simply
wordy but is wordy in French with English
subtitles. Once the two foursomes join for
a verbal battle of the sexes that evolves
into serious psychological warfare, though,
writer-director Denys Arcand conquers
the language barrier and takes off. These
people beat every subject, from politics
and fucking around to feminism and the
Pope’s prostate, into the ground. Played to
the hilt by an unfamiliar Canadian cast
and already hailed at festivals from
Cannes to New York if it were The
Big Chil according to Ingmar Berg-
man, Arcand's movie is too warm-blood-
ed for that. It's more like contemporary
Chekhov, complex but compassionate,
with everyone running a fever. ЗУМ

MOVIE SCORE CARD

capsule close-ups of current films
by bruce williamson

Aliens Spaced out with Sigourney. ¥¥¥
Bloke Edwards’ That's Life With Julie,
Jack Lemmon and the family tree. ¥¥
Blue Velvet (Scc review) A Lynch mob,
plus Hopper in pretty high gear. МУ
Children of a Lesser God (Sce review)
Hearing problems with Hurt. УУУ
Clockwise Back to school with Monty
Python's John Cleese & company. Уз
The Color of Money (See review) New-
man is back, with Cruise on cue. ¥¥¥¥
"Crocodile" Dundee (Scc revicw) Макс
mine Manhattan, says Aussic. v
The Decline of the American Empire (Scc

review) Chekhovian chat. ILLU
Down by law Escapees are waaay
down. Y

Extremities Varrah’s dilemma: Will she
or won't she waste a rapist? жуу
The Fly For fans of s-f shock fests, а
chance to party till you puke. yyy
Foreign Body London as seen by a bogus
doctor in spite of himself PA
Half Moon Street (Sce revicw) Well, not
even Sigourney can win ‘em all. у
Heartburn Strccp meets Nicholson on a

storm-tossed sca of matrimony. ¥¥¥
Hoosiers Basketball’s their game. and
Hackman's aces as their coach Ww

The Lightship (Sce review) Duvall tops
the Bill, literally. Wh
Manhunter In this designer thriller,
Petersen's the man to watch. vv
Men Infidelity German style: A cheated
husband strikes back. yyy
The Men's Club One evening out with the
boys you may want to skip. x
The Name of the Rose Connery and [4th
Century brethren in jeopardy: Ww
‘night, Mother Spacck and Bancroft
debate the merits of suicide. Ww
90 Days Shy Montrcaler rapping with
his Korean mail-order bride. ww
Nothing in Common Gleason, Hanks take
charge as а feuding father and
son. Wh
Otello (See review) Mass-appeal opera,
with Domingo as Verdi's Moor. ¥¥¥
Peggy Sue Got Married (Sec review) А
futuristic turn with Miss Turner. ww
Round Midnight Great jazz by a great
cast of musicians bebopping around
Paris back in the Fifties. УУУУ
Sid and Nancy The decline and fall of
punk star Vicious and his groupie. ¥¥¥
Spring Symphony Music by Schumann,
with Nastassja Kinski as his muse. VV
Stand by Me Stephen King’s kid stull,
offbeat but surprisingly mild WA
Tough Guys Machismo hilariously mocked
by Kirk Douglas and Burt Lancaster as
х-соп for all seasons. we

¥¥¥¥ Don't miss
¥¥¥ Good show

¥¥ Worth a look
Y Forget it

TRIPLE PLAY.

PLAYBOY
Y TAE

cw

f
|

First there was Sherry Arnett, Miss January, followed by Teri Weigel, Miss April. Now
Rebekka Armstrong, Mis: tember, makes her stunning debut, as the third in PLAY BOY'S
collectible Centerfold series. "Twenty minutes each of eye-opening entertainment for just $9.95 a
volume. Order the entire series today and start your own priceless collection.

Just send $9.95 plus $3.25 postage and handling, in U.S, check or money order to Playboy
Video, Р.О. Box 6. Ik Grove, Ш. 60009. Include your name, return address, and 7% sales tax if
Illinois resident, or $3.00 additional per tape if Canadian resident. Specify V HS-21521V or Beta-

21521B for Rebekka Armstrong. VHS 7V or Beta-21517B for Teri Weigel. And VHS-21400V
or Beta-21400B for Sherr 3 lisa, ‚ Master Card ог АМЕХ, include card
number, expiration date and signati

Alsoavailable where video is

ns, Inc. PLAY BOY, VIDEO CENTERFOLD, and RABBIT HEAD * trademarks of and used under lic om Playboy Enterprises, Inc.

"CAN A BEER IMPORTED FROM OREGON
BE THE EQUAL OF A BEER
IMPORTED FROM SOMEWHERE ELSE?”

BY MICHAEL JACKSON,

AUTHOR OF "THE WORLD GUIDE TO BEER"

NES
ие T live in London, I make
frequent trips to America. And on each
visit, Im eager to learn about the latest
fad sweeping your country. Over the past
dozen years or so, I have observed great
enthusiasm for backgammon, hot tubs,

jogging, French mineral water, and at least
fifty different crash diets.

At last it seems you've turned to
something sensible: quality beer. Every-
where I look in America, people are
ordering beers of individuality and char-
acter And Гуе noticed that many of these
beers are imported.

The great beers of Europe are justi-
fiably famous for their quality, so this turn
of events is perfectly understandable.

T happen to think, however, that it’s often
possible to enjoy good beer without going
halfway around the world for it. More
about that in a moment. But first, an
observation about beer in general, and
imported beers in particular

HOW OLD WORLD BEER
CAN GETOLD

In order for its flavor to mellow and
mature, beer must spend time ageing at the
brewery. But once beer is bottled, time can
become the enemy. As weeks pass, sunlight
filters into the bottle, oxidation occurs,
and flavour is inevitably damaged. That's
why most types of beer should be drunk
as soon as possible after bottling, when
they are at the peak of their freshness.
With that in mind, consider the path
that imported beer has to follow before it
reaches your favourite store or tavern. It
must be trucked from the brewery to a sea-
port, and loaded aboard a freighter The
ship must make its way across the ocean.

The beer must be unloaded, and stored
at the importer's warehouse. And then
shipped by lorry or rail, sometimes thou-
sands of miles, to a distributor in your
region, who will in turn store it fora while
longer before transporting it to the place
ауа le

Asa result, some imported beer can be
many months old before you drink it.
That's one reason why Americans
who travel abroad often

report that the same
brand of beer tastes re-
markably better when
consumed in its native
country.

A REFRESHING ALTERNATIVE
TO THE IMPORTS

While chere are many imported specialty
bears heel cheroushily exjoyandice
ommend, there are also outstanding beers
el cognitam ЖЕРЕ IES
particularly true of the Pacific Northwest,
which has become one of the world’s
most lively brewing centers.

I£you haven't yet sampled the excel-
lent beers from this region, I suggest you
start with Henry Weinhard's Private
Reserve.

Like the great beers of Europe,
Henry's is made with the finest ingredients

obtainable. These include rich, cwo-row.
malting barley and choice Cascade hops.
Both are grown only in the western states,
and both command a premium price.

Asa result, most brewers consider them too
expensive to use.

Tlike the great beers of Europe, Henry's
is made with extra care and attention.
And the beer is aged more than twice as
long as most American brands.
Unlike the great bears
of Europe however,

("cag ads
Private Reserve
reaches its most dis-

tant markets within
а few days of leaving the brewery.
And each bottling is numbered to
provide a constant check for freshness in
taverns and stores,

Ilis Bean Waria
Private Reserve with the popular imported
secs ll liene done bo cs a)
chance you'll prefer Henry. If so, you will
get more than the enjoyment ofa quality
product. You will also get the satisfaction
of knowing that the price you've paid
is the result of superior ingredients and
brewing methods, rather
than the cost of transport-
ing the bottle across
oceans and continents.

YOUR GUIDE TO FRESH

BEER

lic service, ehe brewers of Henry Weinhard's Private
‘offer this convenient mileage chart to use asa guide

in choosing your beer Distances shown are from
brewing centers to selected cities in the United Stats.

As
ene.

Albuquerque |
Denver —
Los Angeles |

Phoenix

San Diego

San Francisco

Seattle

THE BLITZ-WEINHARD BREWERY OF PORTLAND, OREGON

>

PLAYBOY

Ny

ATP

“Ruarc has never heard
his own father's voice?

He's deaf.

Ruarc McHugh is one of 16 million hearing-impaired Americans who
need our help. And yours.

The Deafness Research Foundation is the only national non-profit
health organization solely committed to finding cures for hearing
disorders. And our overhead is funded by earcare professionals. So
100% of your contribution goes directly to research.

Research that's fostered advances like the body aid. It can help
Ruarc feel the vibrations of a roaring crowd after Wayne scores.

Now let's help him actually hear the game, and his father’s voice, too.

Please send your tax- deductible contribution to the Deafness
Research Foundation today. Because there's so much to hear.

Help him. There's so much to hear.

Deafness Research Foundation
РО. Box 5000, New York, МУ. 40047

4-800-535-DEAF

Jot Wayne Gretzky?

7
M
S

NELSON GEORGE

pisco 15 back, minus John Travolta, white
suits and Studio 54. The site of this grass-
roots revival is Chicago, where a move-
ment called house has become the
most-talked-about scene. It’s mainly an
update of the drumbeats, mixing
niques and Gospel vocal styles that once
defined late-Seventies dance music. House
isn't simply a disco-revival movement,
though that is part of its appeal. What
records such as J. V Ik's Music Is the Key
or Ste Silk" Hurley’s Jack Your Body
(jack is house slang for dancing), on Chi-
cago's growing D.J. International label, or
Chicago, by В. T. & the Rockmen Unlim-
ited, on Arthur Baker's Criminal records,
or the Bang Orchestra's Sample That!, on.
Gellen, share is an audacious use of Eight-
ies studio technology, influenced by Sev-
спас; sensibility, to create dance music of
great rhythmic intensity with a sonic rich-
ness old disco didn't have. Who knows?
House may be the next big thing.

Billy Joel was once the next big thing,
too. Now he's trying to maintain his place
in the star firmament. One way to do so,
Jod’s The Bridge (Columbia) suggests, is to
stay with the style that brought success:
Running on Ice recalls Pressure; This Is the
Time has chords from several previous Joel
Decent enough stuff but not very
exciting. More interesting are the songs
with a fresh twist, such as the synthe-
laden Modern Woman, Jocl's duet
with Ray Charles on Baby Grand and а
good song about superstardom called Code
of Silence, written with and featuring a vo-
cal by Cyndi Lauper.

CHARLES M. YOUNG

For more than two decades, Paul Simon
has navigated that fine line between
intelligent introspection and navel
gazing—most of the time succeeding at
tuming quiet desperation into something
you'd want to hum. In the past few years,
though, he seemed to lose his compass and
fall into the great belly button of self-pity.
The guy needed to get out of the house and
mix it up with the world. Which he did.
Simon went all the way to South А! to
work with some of the best musicians you
heard of and made Graceland
(Warner), his best album in many years,
maybe ever. I went back and played all his
old stuff for comparison, and I am ready
to declare The Boy in the Bubble—a toe-
tapping meditation over a wonderfully
droning accordion on our fragmenting cul-
turc's pursuit of loneliness—my all-time
favorite Paul Simon song. And then there's
Graceland, in which a Nigerian (Demola
Adepoju) plays Hawaiian steel guitar over
a South African rhythm section accompa-

never

This music's on the house.

Solid stuff from
Daryl Hall, Paul
Simon and Billy Joel.

nying a New York Jew singing а country-
and-western/jazz tune about Elvis Pres-
ley's home аз a symbol for Christian grace.
Now, that's a concept. And then there's
the stunning а capfella Homeless, with
Ladysmith Black Mambazo, a cross be-
tween the Mormon Tabernacle Choir and
the Penguins by way of Zululand. Simon
puts his voice high in the mix, almost a
Fifties proportion of sound—which is OK
because his lyrics are smart. But if you
miss the extra crunch of the rhythm sec-
tion, try the 12-inch dance singles.

DAVE MARSH

Although not the Teddy Pendergrass he
thinks he is, Daryl Hall is a damn good
singer; and if that were all that Three Hearts
in the Happy Ending Machine (RCA), his sec-
ond solo album, wanted to achieve, you
couldn't really fault it. Happy Ending
Machine is packaged much more ambi-
tiously. To begin with, some of the cuts are
produced by the thmics’ Dave Stew-
art, who by now is as overextended as he is
overrated but whose presence nevertheless
adds a hip, Anglophilic veneer necessary
to divert attention from the fact that Hall
is really a debtor of Otis Redding, not the
Beatles. The titles promise songs delving
into meaningful, perhaps even cosmic
questions. But in the end, even What's
Gonna Happen to Us, his antiwar number,
boils down to the singer's trying to per-
suade his dream date to hang around

despite her shrink’s advice.

Well, how much can you dislike a record
that bumbles its greatest pretensions so
grossly? Whatever Daryl Hall lacks in
chic, he makes up in soul; he may be
unable to express the desire for nirvana
believably, but who cares when he
expresses lust itself so effortlessly?
Dreamtime, the best track, is as good as
Hall & Oates. қ

Unfortunately, the record doesn't often
sound that good. Stewart and Hall are too
busy developing illuminated psychedelia
for the Nineties to give Hall the pristine
pop settings and dance punch he needs.
This suggests two things: first, that Hall is
better off working with strect-smart dudes
such as Arthur Baker. Second, the solution.
to the mystery of what John Oates docs:
He keeps his partner's excesses in check—

їн остовгк, ex-Monkee Mickey Dolenz
reviewed The Butthole Surfers’ LP
“Rembrandt Pussyhorse.” Turnabout
is fair play, so here's Gibby Haynes of
the Buttholes on “Then & Now...
The Best of the Monkee

“It has long been a popular
notion that none of the Monkees
could play an instrument, and Гуе
always liked that Sex Pistol-ish
aspect to their careers; but when the
Monkees came out, I could have
sworn they were a cheap Beatles
reaction and that no amount of LSD
could ensurc their musical success.
Alas, I was only a third grader lis-
tening to a teacher with three last
names who periodically twitched
her head and howled like the ban-
shee of death herself. So I had no
idea that two years later, I would be
in my first band. No name—we
lasted just one practice, singing 409
and Last Train to Clarksville. Then,
in the mysterious drug-clouded days
of sixth grade, I was turned on to
truly great Monkees songs like Tapi-
oca Tundra and Your Auntie Grizelda.

“Yes, I loved the Monkees. And,
yes, you should buy Then & Now
The Best of the Monkees, but only i
Mickey, Mike, Peter and Davy
make enough cash out of the deal to
pay off their mortgages."

PLAYBOY

30

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and on the evidence here, Oates carns
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ROBERT CHRISTGAU

Making it new is Ше perennial chal-
lenge of rock `n’ roll.
Ashford & Simpson honed their skill as
Motown producer-songwriters in the Six-
ated their own high-gloss
connubial soul in the Seventies. But in the
Eighties, they've topped themselves only
once—with the classic marriage ballad
that keynoted 1984's Solid. Their follow

up album, Real Love (Capitol), may be a
tle more solid on the whole, but not eve
Nobody Walks in L.A.—which makes good
on its tide but is too quirky and local for a

takes it on home.

Ashford & Simpson | а | A | " | А | ^ ties and orig
Daryl Hall/Three | | | |

Еа з 6 7 6 з

The Алде eae ze doe deer

Lifes Rich Pogeont 2 le ko Fale E

Paul Simon

ex busdam

GATHERING NO MOSS DEPARTMENT: Mick is
getting farther away from rock ’n’ roll.
His recent passion is hot-air ballooning
over Normandy. But the Jagger sense of
humor is intact: The balloon is shaped
likc a Harlcy-Devidson.

REELING AND ROCKING: We hear that Phil
Collins will make his film debut oppo-
site Michael Caine in another movie
about the Great Train Robbery. The
haul—£2,500.000—is still considered
the biggest heist in English terri-
tory. . . . Mark Isham, a former sideman
to Van Morrison, now records for
Windham Hill and scores movies, most
recently, the new Alan Rudolph film
Made in Heaven, starring Timothy Hut-
ton and Kelly McGillis. . . . Rickie Lee Jones
has recorded Love Is the Light Inside
Your Heart for the animated film The
New Adventures of Pinocchio. . . . Sting is
filming two new movies, one in Italy
and onc in Africa, the former with
Kathleen Turner.

NEWSBREAKS: If you've been watching
Miami Vice producer Michael Mann's
new show, Crime Story, you'll recog-
nizc Todd Rundgren's musical score.
Rundgren also scored four episodes of
Pee-wee Herman's Saturday-moming
kids’ show and is working with Joe Рарр
on a Broadway musical, Up Against
It. . . . The Cure will have a new album.
by Easter. . .. Seventy pieces of original
album-cover art were on display in a
San Francisco gallery this past fall,
including Surrealistic Pillow, by the Jef-
ferson Airplane, Tapestry, by Carole King,
Sports, by Huey lewis and the News, and
Workingman's Dead, by the Grateful
Dead. The critics saw the exhibit as a
step toward respectability for album-
cover art. We hope the display travels
to other cities. . . . Bob Geldof is ready to
return to acting and is looking at movie
Scripts. . . . Paul McCartney is releasing a
Buddy Holly vidco, a combination of an
old BBC program about the singer and

25 minutes of Holly songs, to commem-
orate what would have been the sing-
er's 50th birthday this fall. . . . Stewart
Copeland, who has been busy this year
with a Police greatest-hits package and
an original ballct, is now wr
opera set during the Crusades. . . .
Albums to look for any day now: new
ones from Glenn Frey, Night Ranger, Wall
of Voodoo and more remixed Sam
Cooke. . Motown's veteran song-
writer Lamont Dozier collaborated with
Simply Red's Mick Hucknall on two songs
for Red’s second album. It was Dozier’s
first collaboration with anyone since
the famous Motown team of Holland-
Dozier-Holland broke up in 1972. . . .
Bananarama won't tour again until after
Keren Woodward's baby is born. ... And,
finally, there's Elvis news again. The
late singer's cousin Billy Smith has
entered the Elvis market with a catalog
of items called Ему Yours—ev-
erything from posters and buttons to
calculator pens, flags and candy bars.
То get a catalog, write to Elvisly Yours,
c/o Р.О. Box 161414, Mcmphis, Теп-
nessce 38186. If this exciting offer isn't
enough, the curator of Memphis’ Elvis
museum has pulled the King’s under-
shorts out of a traveling exhibit because
they were upstaging other items, such
as his karate outfit, a lock of hair and
car keys. Said Kathy Velvet, the curator,
“It was irritating. We've got Elvis
wedding ring, his jewelry, his guitar
and his Rolls . . . and all people were
asking about was the underwear. [
couldn't handle it." . . . Then there is
the other Elvis— Costello, a.k.a. Declan
McManus. He's planning to let the audi
ence help him pick the songs he'll play
on his fall tour, Each show will include
a request spot during which fans will
be able to choose from his repertory of
140 songs. That's the Elvis watch.

— BARBARA NELLIS

Folk-blues loyalist Bonnie Raitt made it
new by fronting her own band on guitar
for 1982's Green Lighl, which provcd nci-
ther New Wave nor A.O.R. enough to sell
diddly. Nine Lives is her contrite return to
ѕ., a stalwart ellort to adapt
mable tastes to the hooky
mechanics of L.A. pop. Like her
ously attempted sellout, Streetlighis
flat. And will probably sell diddly

The older the newer for Phil Alvin, who
as lead singer of L.A.s Blasters helped
kick off the roots-rock movement. So on
his first solo album, the egregiously titled
Un "Sung Stories” (Slash), he just digs fur-
ther back, to the Thirtics at least, for coun-
try blucs and country lament, Ellingtonian
brass and Brother Can You Spare a Dime.
And only once docs Ве just go through
the motions—on the blucs-rock Daddy
Rollin’ Stone.

VIC GARBARINI

Every few years, Paul McCartney
cranks out an album that comes from
someplace beyond the facile charm of his
persona. In 1981, John Lennon's death led
to the relatively pithy Tug of War, and it
was hoped that the commercial disaster
that besct his cloyingly cute film project
Give My Regards to Broad Street would
shock him into dropping the facade once
again. No such luck. In spite of a little help
from Police/Phil Collins producer Hugh
Padgham and a slew of guest stars,
beneath the high-tech glitter and sheen,
Press to Play (Capitol) is just another hol-
low bauble. Even Angry, the ostensibly
let-it-all-out rocker that features Pete
Townshend on guitar, really never cuts
loose and speaks from the gut. The
album’s most realized work, However
Absurd, with its free-form (read, uncon-
trived) lyrics and J Am the Walrus ambi-
ence, may provide a clue: “Living dreams
with mouth ajar/Wide-awake we go to
sleep. . . ./I couldn't say the words /
Words wouldn't get my feclings through /
So I keep talking to you . . . custom-made
dinosaurs / Too late now for a change. ...”
Well, maybe not.

I1 WOULD ве NICE if we could call 1, Tina: My
Life Story (Morrow), by Tina Turner and
Rolling Stone senior editor Kurt Loder, an
inspired rendering of one woman's strug-
gle to overcome an abusive spouse on the
road to а multiplatinum album, a movie
Mel Gibson and McCall's
as, this book isn’t inspiring—or
ry revealing, either. Anyone interested
in how her dominating bandleader hus-
band turned naive Anna Mae Bullock into
i R&B dervish through
shrewd instruction and regular beatings
already knows the story. This real-life
Color Purple has been the subject of innu-
merable magazine and television pieces.

Challenged ю pump new life into this
oft-told tale, Turner and Loder have
spiced J, Tina with the voices of other wit-
nesses. That helps but can't overcome the
book's central problems, one of which is
Ike's role. TI as much his story as
1 t he comes across as so unremit-
that he doesn't scem real. Read-
ing I, Tina, we found it hard to imagine
what qualities could have enabled him to
attract and control a steady stream of
women for more than 20 years. What
made Ike such a successful stud? Tina
can't seem to tell us. She also seems less
than candid about her own feelings.
Unlike Little Richard in his recent and
startlingly honest autobiography, Turner
in this journal wears a thick crown of
thorns. When she finally walks out on Ike,
one just thinks, It's about time.

О

Father-son relationships have been
heavily ed in contemporary fiction, but
seldom with the grace and style of Peter
‘Taylor. In A Summons to Memphis (Knopf),
he tells how profoundly affected one boy
and his family are by a sudden relocation
to Memphis, caused by a rift between their
father and his best friend. How the move
plays itself out in the son’s life is the thrust
of this complex story, written with Taylor's
usual prodigious skill.

.

Without question, the most interesting
aspect of the 1984 Presiden
was the candidacy of the Reverend Jesse
Jackson. Not surprisingly, someone has
n a book about it. Bob Faw and
Nancy Skelton, two reporters assigned to
Jackson's campaign, collaborate to bring
us Thunder in America (Texas Monthly
Press), subtitled “The Improbable Presi-
dential Campaign of Jesse Jackson,” a
behind-the-scenes look at what must
surely have been one of the most dis-
organized, frenetic and electrifying politi-
cal phenomena of the century. Faw and
Skelton’s week-by-week account of Jack-
son's vote stumping includes not only the
details most of us remember (the *Hymic-
town” flap and his relationship with Black
Muslim Louis Farrakhan) but also

writt

Tina doesn't quite tell all.

Turner's autobiography;
a double dose of Chesbro;
terrorists as gangsters.

insights into the many contradictory ele-
ments of Jackson's personality. Jackson
probably won't like this book, but we did.
б

For those of you who can't take John
Waters’ films (Pink Flamingos, Female
Trouble and so forth), there is a second vol-
ume of his writing, Crackpot: The Obsession
of John Waters (Macmillan), a wonderfully
weird collection of essays in which he has a
lot of fun pointing out to us the high points
of low culture. He chats with Pia Zadora,
finds out what happened to Francis the
Talking Mule, lets us eavesdrop on his film
class for prisoners and explains why he
loves the National Enquirer. His quirky
take on the (аску is irresistible, and he has
become a better writer since his first book,
Shock Value. Spend some time over trou-
bled Waters; he’s a very funny commenta-
tor who is at the beginning of a very long
run.

.
The only thing better than а new
George C. Chesbro novel is a pair of them.

Mystery fans arc in for a special treat with
the back-to-back publication of Veil (Mys-
terious) and Two Songs This Archangel Sings
(Atheneum). The first novel follows a Viet
vet, CIA operative and martial-
alist turned East Village artist
bowels of a top-secret research project. It's
“Rambo Meets abeth Kübler-Ross”
as the hero becomes involved in a near-
death experience. Not-quite-sciencc-fic-
ton and suspense make a thrilling
combination, and nobody works it better
than Chesbro. The hero of the second

book is his familiar dwarf Mongo the
Magnificent, a former circus gymnast now
practicing as a criminologist. Mongo has a
habit of winding up on the edge of the
supernatural, and this time out, he investi-
gates the strange disappearance of his
friend Veil (yes, the man from the first
novel) and uncovers a dirty little secret
from a dirty little war that threatens to
topple a Secretary of State. There is plenty
of fast-paced violence in these books, and
you'll rip right through them.
б

The Financing of Terror (Simon & Schu-
ster) deserves an immediate reading by
anyone who wants to understand inter-
national terrorism. Author James Adams,
formerly a journalist based in the Middle
East, has produced a significant work of
reasoned, informed intelligence that not
only throws a blinding light on the sources
of terrorist income but also destroys our
most cherished delusions about this vital
topic. Briefly put, his research showed
conclusively that most terrorists in the
Middle East, Western Europe, Ireland
and Latin America are not idealists but
gangsters who get their money from illegal
slot machines, kidnaping, bank robbe:
and extortion. Responding to terror tactics
by dressing up in ninja suits and playing
Rambo doesn't cut it, Adams says. What's
needed is cutting the terrorists off from the
loot. If the facts are as Adams describes
them—and virtually every point he makes
rings with logic and clarity—putting an
end to terrorism is both imperative and
possible.

BOOK BAG

But Enough About You (Simon & Schu-
ster), by Cynthia Heimel: Our Women col-
wmnist strikes again with a collection of
snappy essays dedicated to city life
Heime examines the growing blight of
"fabulousness," exhaustion therapy for
urban superpeople on the move,” “life-
styles of the poor and obscure" and other.
Eighties phenomena. Read "em and smile.

A Paler Shode of White: The History of White.
People in America, Volume II (Perigee), by
Martin Mull and Allen Rucker: These
guys dig for the essence of whiteness and
come up with chapters on such topics as
“What М! People Are Thinking When
They Stare into Space" and “The Color
e.” This book makes us wish we had a

Soldiers & Civilians: Americans at War and
ot Home (Bantam), edited by Tom Jenks:
These 20 short stories by some of Ameri-
ca's finest contemporary writers (Robert
Stone, Bob Shacochis and Bobbie Ann
Mason, to name a few) illustrate how
war—even in peacetime—pervades and

33

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

esosesawrco — 12 mg. Чак’, 1.0 mg. nicotine av. per cigarette by ЕТС method

36

SPORTS

I his is the time of year for thick enve-

lopes in college football, 105 a time
for all of the top-notch athletes who've
been winning games for State, Tech and
Old U to start collecting the bonuses that
will accompany their under-the-table pay-
ments from boosters, agents, assistant
coaches and pizza deliverers. 105 also а
period that reminds me of something 1
want to clear up. I have never said ] hoped
that a vast, mysterious crater would sud-
denly materialize in the center of the
North American continent so that Mis-
sion, Kansas, headquarters of the
1 ., would get sucked all the way to
Port Moresby, Papua New Guinea. A hun-
dred feet down would be deep enough,
provided it could be paved over with
enough concrete to prevent the organi-
zation's rampant hypocrisy from boring
through to the surface.

The two silliest statements Гус ever

seen attributed to grownups in the world
of sports have both come from officers of
the N.C.A.A. in recent months.
First, Walter By the father of clean-
ess, otherwise known as the only exec
е director the N.C.A.A. ever had, was
quoted as saying that as many as 30 per-
cent of the major college football programs
may be cheating.

Then along came a man named David
Berst, whose title at the N.C.A.A. is that of
director of enforcement, and he
quoted as saying that ten to 15 perce
the major colleges are cheating.

Great, huh? Walter Byers has bee
his job since 1951, for 35 years, and David
Berst has been with the N.C.A.A. for
almost 15 years, and together they can't
come within 55 percent of reality!

Try again, guys. Try estimating that 100
percent of our major colleges arc cheating,
and maybe you'll be able to get the full
attention of someone other than one of the
carefully selected drones on onc of your
witless committees

Anyone who knows anything about col-
lege football is aware of a fact of life: that
in order to be the least bit respectable in
college football, every single major college
in America is forced, occasionally, to take
a powder on the rules.

The fact that some schools do it more of-
ten than others, and to a greater degre
does not cleanse the others. This is a truth
that ought to be understood, despite the
fact that the N.C.A.A. seems unable or
unwilling to exorcise its shortsightedness
on the subject.

was
t of.

By DAN JENKINS

HOW TO FIX
COLLEGE FOOTBALL

"There is another theory running around
in the neighborhood—which is that W:
ter and his drones know exactly what's
going on but hope they don't have to do
anything about any of their pals or any of
the glamor schools that are worth so much
money in the TV packages; that, therefore,
the N.C.A.A. is compelled to put
nearer to God only when a school is
clumsy enough to get caught violating the
rules or stupid enough to confess.

There are two reasons cheating exists on
а 100 percent scale in college football. The
first reason is the N.C.A.A.’s manual on
behavior. It's 411 pages long, which mea
it can only be lifted by a 280-pound inte-
rior lineman.

According to every coach 1 know, the
manual also consists of 411 pages of
incomprehensible nonsense in which ev-
erything but breathing is considered а
rules violation. No coach or athletic direc-
tor is even sure that breathing is allowed
between two and four вм. on Fridays in
certain sections of the country.

The second reason cheating
football is so popular is that by any moral
code other than the N.C.A.As, it isn't
really cheating. It’s giving a very small
number of kids, by comparison with the
rest of the student body, a chance at least
to be exposed to college—and a majority
of them do, in fact, graduate. 105 giving

them spending money when they don't

п college

have any and aren't allowed to work. It's
giving them the same kinds of breaks on
grades and course loads that other kids
can buy with dope or Daddy's money,
And it's giving them the usc of a car that
will run as reliably as those the fraternity
swine drive.

Not too long ago, a big-time college
coach said to me, "Listen, 1 don't buy
football players like they say about a lot of
us, but I'll tell you this: When I get ‘em, I
take care of 'em! Say I've got a poor kid
from a family of cight or ten; his folks live
in a shack and he wants to go home for a
weekend, or he needs а pair of jeans or
some pocket money—he’s got it! The
N.C.A.A. says I'm a cheater, but you tell
me who's got morals and who doesn’t. The
problem with college athletics is, we've got
some people trying to make us live by ап
old amateur ideal, and there hasn't been а
goddamn amateur in this country for a
hundred years!”

On that note, ГИ tell you how to start to
make it a better world for college football.

1. Маке freshmen ineligible again.
Until 1973, when the have-nots thought it
would be a way to help them compete,
freshmen weren't eligible, and the sport
did just finc, producing its Sam Baughs
and Tom Harmons, filling stadiums and
exciting alumni, while freshmen had to
find out where the classrooms we

2. Spending money is allowed, from
$200 to $300 a month during the school
y This eliminates а thousand nit-
picking rules and gives the boosters а
chance to subsidize the football program
above the table.

3. Make cars available for the athletes
who need them. Let the boosters who like
to talk big come up with a fleet of ca
legally.

4. In exchange for making fresh
ineligible. throw out Proposal 48, which
will be functionally racist and deny a col-
lege opportunity to a kid because his high
school gave him a lousy education. Give
him a chance to prove himself in college

5. Let the coaches police one another.
Coaches know where the bodies a
buried. One, two, three Porsches
you're out.

If you think Im saying we should just
call our college football players profes-
sionals, think I'm talking about а
world in which they would be less profes-
sional, less merce: and better educated
than they are today.

With no help from the N.C. [y]

and

ga

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2 й

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MEN

I my lucky day. Гуе just received

a letter from Citibank in Sioux Falls,
South Dakota. I hadn't realized I was so
well known in South Dakota, but evidently
James L. Bailey has heard of me. He wants
me to apply for the Gitibank Preferred
VISA Card. As a senior vice-president of
Citibank, Bailey is offering me an initial
$5000 line ol credit that is expandable to
$50,000. He writes that this offer is “for a
very select group of people. People like
you, who handle credit very responsibly
and will find its unique advantages most
useful.”

Isn't that something? And I didn't even
have to ask for an introduction!

Could I use $50.000? Absolutely. Гус

always wanted 10 take my family to
France, for example: cruise the canals in a
fancy barge, visit the wine country, stay
near the Champs Elysées in Paris, travel to
Arles and Van Gogh country, lie on the
nude beaches of the Riviera - sure,
could use $50,000. It would last me several
months on a family vacation. Or a week if
I went alone.
1 going to snort the Citibank line of
credit? No, Ги not. Why not? Well, for
опе thing, if I piled all the credit Гус been
offered into one sum, it would come to
more than ГИ make in a lifetime. I'm
distinctly uncomfortable with that.

For another, we're a society of credit
junkies, myself included, and I want to
withdraw from the drug before it’s too late.
As a nation and as individuals, we're
debt up to our noses. Credit is the cocaine
of this culture, the artificial sumulant that
flutters the heart and brightens the
brain—but at what expense? We double
our national deficit in a few years, expand
consumer debt, put the nation into hock,
and toward what end? Nobody scems to be
asking that question today. But that
doesn't mean it shouldn't be asked.

И I were allowed only one piece of ad-
vice for my own kids, it would take me no.
time at all to decide what it would be.
“Cover your debts as soon as you can,” I
would tell them. “Don't get so deeply i
debt that somebody else owns you.”

Yes, that's stodgy advice from a cant
Ko man, but chances are it will sound
good in a few ycars. And I know
this: There is something very unmanly
about being decply in debt; (2) the hype
and hoopla from the financial gurus may
lead you to think that the cocaine of credit
is the only way to fly, but every economy
crashes from time to time, and when this

By ASA BABER

REAL MEN DON’T
EAT CREDIT

one bottoms out, indebtedness will be a
disastrous place to inhabit. Better to prac
tice controlled withdrawal now than to
с to go cold turkey without warning.

The link between economic structures
and masculinity is central to our lives. I
emasculating in the extreme to be owned
by someone else, whether it's a person or
an institution. Live by the loan, die by the
loan call? men are truly
comfortable w

1 can't prove и, but I maintain that we
men have certain ideas ingrained in our
collective consciousness. It is not generally
acknowledged these days, but we really
are very fine people in our deepest selves.
Concepts of loyalty, community, stability,
humor, self-discipline and health are cen-
tral to our make-up. I do not claim that we
always live up to this sense of manhood,
but it is embedded in us. The fact that we
are led away from it does not mean it has
disappeared.

Genetic truth, you might call it, You can
measure our tension by the degree to
which we depart from it. We may pretend
that it’s easy, that it doesn't matter, but
that is not the case, We are scarred when
we violate our sense of manhood. Snorting
too much credit cuts close to the male
heart, because in losing our financial inde
pendence, we lose an important part of
ourselves.

1 come by my cant

nkerousness natu-

rally. I'm the descendant of a long line of
farmers, gencrations of people from Ken-
tucky and Indiana and Illinois. Um the
first male in my family to get a college
degree. My forebears were tough peo-
ple who mistrusted high finance and fancy
arguments for indebtedness. When the
Great Depression arrived, my grandfather
had already been battling bankruptcy for
several years. The farmers of America got
caught early in the Depression’s
They were hurting in the Twenties. The
bankers with the big cigars didn’t get
trounced until the Thirties.

If that pattern sounds familiar, it
should. The same thing is happening to
America’s farmers today, but the illusion
being offered us is that our current agi
cultural depression won't drag the rest of
the economy down. I'm no expert, but the
bet in this corner is that history is going to

repeat itself and that the times ahead are
going to be rocky, indeed.

Vm writing this in the summer of 1986.
g can happen, of course. We are
faced with the prospect оГап economie sea
change. What's next? Inflation or depres-
sion? How will it reveal itself, this new
trend? Will gold take off or crash? Will in-
terest rates continue to decline? Place your
bets, ladies and gentlemen; place your bets.

By the time you read this, the Dow may
be at 3000 and the boom may be on again.
If so, more power to it; but you'll find me
working hard to get out of as much debt as
possible. Because as I see it, this econo-
my—and the banking system that fuels it
and underlics it—is a house of cards. Г
don't trust the system or the people run-
ning it.

Take a look around. We live in a culture
that punishes savings and rewards indebt-
edness. Tax structures have prodded people
into taking on maximum debt w receive
maximum tax write-offs. Credit is held out
to consumers and advertised on TV and
sent through the mails and called in over
the phone. I once had a banker tell me
1 was a disloyal American because |
wouldn't take the loan he offered mc.
“You're not playing the game,”
a bewildered voice.

"That's right. Pm not playing the game.
Not the one where they have the ball and
the bat and the gloves and the diamond—
id if I sign my life away, 1 get to play
too. For a while.

Its time to hunker down and hang
tough and be a man. “Man” as in
“solvent,” that is. [v]

he said in

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«CHAPS MUSK

BY RALPH LAUREN

SK ——
LIVING WITHOUT BOUNDARIES:

_ WOMEN

I want to sec a movie where there's this
girl playing poker with a couple of
people and a dark woman accuses her of
cheating. The dark woman, incensed,
stands up and pulls a gun. Then the girl's
friend comcs in and tries to smooth things
over, the girl just keeps repeating she
wasn't cheating, and finally her friend
says, “I can't help you, Sundanccue."
When the dark woman hears the name
Sundancette, she ite and
weird.

“IfI had known who you were, I would
never have accused you," she says. “If I
draw on you, you will kill me.”

“That is true,” says Sundancette; ai
as she leaves, the dark woman calls out:

“Hey, Sundancette, just how good are
you?"

Sundancette needs no encour:
whirl around and shoot the dark woman's
gun belt cleanly off her body

After that, Га like to sce a movie about
a bunch of girls who hang out at a diner.
One of them decides she’s going to get
married, but only if her prospective groom
can answer 50 incredibly arcane questions
about shoe designers. Not only will the
groom have to catalog the entire works of
Manolo Blahnik and Robert Clergerie, he
will also have to identify
Maud Frizon and Roger Vivier by fon-
dling them in the dark. All the girls at the
diner think this is right and proper.

То cap off a perfect evening, Га like to
sec the story ofa reprobate genius girl who
is crude and lustful and alcoholic but
unbelievably gifted, and who is led to her
death by a woman who is so envious of and
tortured by the girls talent that she
spends her declining ycars in a psychotic
state, cating sweets and calling out the
gifted girl's name.

Yes, I know. I know; don't say it. There
arc plenty of movies now about strong
women, women who shoulder monstrous
burdens, who take on impossible odds and
win. Women who are stalwart, invincible.

"The hell with these women, I say. Don't
pat me on the head and take me to see
Sigourney Aliens
looks great holding a gigantic gun and
zapping giant lobsters. And Га love to
have her around if ever I were in deepest
space and some thing wanted to set up
light housekeeping in my stomach. But I
wouldn't want to have her over for a mar-
tini and а chat. She has no personality

1 guess it was in the Sixties, when mov-
ies got good for a while, that Hollywood

goes all w

nd

gement to.

Weaver in Sure, she

the shoes of.

By CYNTHIA HEIMEL

PD LIKE TO LOSE IT
AT THE MOVIES

stopped doing heroes. Instead of larger-
than-life, impossibly virtuous hunks, anti-
heroes were created. Donald Sutherland
and Elliott Gould cavorting irreverently
through M*A*S*H, Jack Nicholson, Peter
Fonda and Dennis Hopper getting stoned
and outrageous in Easy Rider, Dustin Hoff-
man in the throes of lust for a mother and
her daughter in The Graduate

So don't gesture proudly at Sigourney. 1
want to sec women who are rowdy and
difficult, who are not victims, who control
their own destinies, who are prey to lust
and confusion and unbelievable fuck-ups,
who are complex, who are real, who are
adventuresome, whose entire existence
does not rely on the way in which their
men treat them.

Don’t show me Sally Field in Places in
the Heart; she was а prim jerk. There was
John Malkovich, all blind and gorgeous,
stumbling through her house in a most
vulnerable fashion, and Sally never
wanted to fuck him. It would have been so
easy that time he came into the room Бу
mistake, when he got embarrassed and
flustered, for Sally to get out of the bath
and press her naked wet body up against
him. I would have, Everybody I know
would have. Ви! instead, Sally had to play
the widow virgin. Most tedious.

Jessica Lange in Country! All righteous
indignation and poignant motherhood.
am Shepard leaves because he is weak

and confused and humiliated by his failure
at breadwinnerdom, And she just hangs in
there, without once fucking up or acting
weird. Women are not really like this.

It's OK ifthe women are loose and com-
plicated as long as something bad happens
to them at the end. Frances Farmer gocs
mad; Karen Silkwood is killed; Cher in
Mask loses her ouly love, her only child.
Shirley MacLaine in Terms of Endearment
loses her only love, her only child, and all
she is is sharp-tongued. Why can't we ever
get away with anything?

"There arc, of course, exceptions, though
1 can't think of any at the moment but that
sublime movie Desperately Seeking Susan,
where the women are difficult, have adven-
tures, make things happen. The men in
this movie all react to the whims and
caprices of these quirky broads. They're
tough, they're real, they like to get laid.

But mostly what I see when I go to the
movies is Meryl Streep being victimized.
Or Robert Redford deciding between a
good woman and a bad woman.

We are not all either passive school-
teachers or Jezebels! Its always th
who has the impossible dream, who rebels
against the strictures of society, who fights
desperately to be true to himself. The
women are the ones who won't take the
risk, who hold their men back, who arc
slaves to convention. Orelse they ruin men
with their depravity and lust.

Men still control the money in Hollywood.

If 1 had ту own movie studio, here's
what I'd do: 1 would remake all Jack Nich-
olson movies with a woman in the lead.
Jack is the quintessential antihero. Picture
Five Easy Pieces starring Goldie Hawn as a
lapsed concert pianist who is so tortured
by the ironies of life that she has to pick up
Matt Dillon at a bowling alley and fuck
his brains out. One Flew over the Cuckoo's
st with Diane Keaton inciting all the
mental patients to run amuck. Prizzi’s
Honor with Kathleen Turner giving it to
Jack in the neck. Heartburn with Meryl
Streep sinister and confused and having
affairs and Jack abandoned and betrayed.

And 1 would make $100,000,000 (net),
because it is largely women who decide
which movie to go to. This is one of the
small powers we have over men, since men
know that left to their own devices, they
would just see The Wild Bunch and The
Great E gain, so they
let us decide. Wait! I know: a remake of
The Magnificent Seven. with Barbra,
(Goldie) Meryl | Г О У]

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AGAINST THE WIND

he best moment I ever had in Evans-

ton, Wyoming, was leaving it. Га
ent а couple of months there in the sum-
mer and fall of 1981. roughnecking on the
oil rigs, living with other guys who had
imchow become desperate enough to go
looking for work in a boom town; and very
soon, it was clear that 1 was in over my
head. Again

Desperate for me meant I was broke
and in a crumbl арс; and tho
going 1000 miles from home to write about
life on the rigs was a reckless move, at least
it was a move.

The first hard thing about the whole
business was that I couldn't admit to any-
one that I was a writer, because the men
and boys who go booming don't generally
want their tales to be told. Most of them
аге young and big, and a lot of them have
things to hide, so I was afraid that one
night they were going to catch me in my
sleeping bag making notes by flashlight
and beat me hall to death just for sport.
And tha as the least of worries, in
а way. Most of the time, 1 was very busy
trying to keep from being maimed by the
rig I was on, because I didn't have the
smallest idea of what I was doing. ГА been
hired late one night by a drunken ‘Texan
who had the barstool next to mine. I was a
little drunk myself. He was a rig boss and
he was looking for a worm, he said. Не
told me à worm was the lowest man on a
rthest away from an exit if
wrong" was another way to

And things do go wrong on oil rigs. Vio-
lently wrong. Everything that hangs over
your head weighs as much as a. Honda
and everything on the floor with you is
under the explosive kind of pressure that
lets go without warning or forgiveness.
The first piece of advice Ї got was “Never
put your feet between two pieces of
metal," which made sense, except that
there isn't any place like that over the hole
where the worm works. My turn came
the job, I slipped
out of the derrick, fell 20 feet and broke
three ribs. And that was a lucky accident.
1 saw six other guys get it worse than that
out there, and I heard awful stories about
ЗО or 40 others, some of whom dicd before
they got to the hospital.

Everybody who knew said that Eva
ton was a death ship of an oil patch, full of
s and stoners and green hands like
me; and a lot of us went home wounded as
a kind of testimony to the greedy scramble

By CRAIG VETTER

SOME THINGS
GET BETTER

that scudded in the Wyoming dirt in those
vcars. Гуе always thought I got off light
with my welding burns and my broken
ribs, and every minute 1 spent amid the
foul smell and the relentless roar of the
massive diesel engines, 1 was deep-down
scared that some heavy steel thing whose
name I didn't even know was going to
slaughter me.

I hung on as long as I could, telling my-
self that nightmares make the best stories
and that stories were what I was drilling
for. But I didn’t last as long as I wanted to;
and when I drove out, the whole thing felt
as if it had beaten me badly, and I prom-
ised myself that at least Га never have to
go back.

Five years, thongh, is plenty of time to
forget the sting that inspires those kinds of
promises, and last summer, on a trip from
Chicago to California on old U.S. 80, I d
cided to stop and try to remember. I fig-
ured the changes in town would be bis
Reading the gas pumps on the way to
Evanston, I didn't expect that the town
would have done well: By some gravity
that no one controls, $1.58 a gallon had
plunged to 83 cents, so it didn't come as a
surprise that the derricks that had stood
like the masts of a great fleet this
part of Wyoming were gone, every last one
of them. I expected Evanston to be used
up and left for dead. It hadn't been. In
fact, it looked better than before the boom,

as if it had gone out and showered, bought
new clothes and settled in for the kind of
nap it had been enjoying before the great
oil parch. Traffic is light, almost aimless,
almost truckless, and it rides on wide new.
roads, past modern brick schools, a new
police station, a handsome courthouse
addition. The evening I was there, the new
four-ficld softball park had four games
going under the lights, and every player
was in full uniform.

Impact taxes, they called them: a way to
make the oil companies leave something
behind from the millions and millions of
dollars they had pumped out of this part of
the high prairie. At the height of the boom,
Evanston been taking in $18,000,000
a year in taxes; and from what I could sce,
the town had used the money well.

Just g around, I thought that the
population was half of what it had been
when I was there. There’s very little drill-
ing anymore, and all that’s left of the dirty
jobs that used to be there are in a couple of
gas-processing plants outside town.

I decided that a visit to the trailer park
Га lived in would probably make the con-
trast vivid, and it did. Yellow Creck Es-
tates, it’s called, and if anybody should
ever have been punished for misusing the
word estate, the people who owned those
20 acres were it. It's a couple of miles from
town, out on the prairie, and there used to
be 600 or so trailers there, parked skirt to
skirt, without a single tree or shrub bc-
tween, The road to it was dirt then, and it
took about 30 minutes to drive, because it
was strewn with boulders the size of
human heads. It's paved now, the ride
takes about five minutes; and as | drove
through the gate, I got a warm feeling all
over, because Yellow Creck Estates has
been mostly trucked away, along with the
drunken, child-beating misery 1 used to
hear every night through the aluminum
walls of the little room for which I paid
$300 а month. Only about one in five of.
the spaccs is being used now, and thc big
dirt rectangles of the empty pads look a lot
like graves.

Later, as I walked the sleepy main street
in town, it occurred to me that some th
actually get better. I passed an otherwise
healthy-looking young man who was walk-
ing with a limp he had obviously grown
used to. He nodded; I smiled. You take
and you give, I thought, and I guess most
of us who were in Evanston those
years got what we were looking for.

43

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THE PLAYBOY ADVISOR

IM, husband and E have been married
for more than 15 years.

About five ycars ago, my husband con-
fessed to me that all these years, whenever.
Вс made love to me, he had had this fan-
tastic "moving picture” in his mind—of
me and a former lover both naked, locked.
in sexual embrace and enjoying it. He
described, in detail, this fantastic sexual
act. Needless to say, ti commentary
excited me very much, which in turn
excited my husband сусп morc. Since that
day, we have been having sexual fantasies
involving me and my lover, and we have
built around them the most fabulous se:
life. Now the mere mention of my lover's
name by my husband acts like a mantra to
me. I get sexually aroused immediately,
and this es my husband. The more I
talk about it and the more details I men-
tion, the better he likes it. Similarly, the
more detail with which my husband
describes my sexual encounter with my
lover, the more excited I become. We are
very much in love; we have never had any
extramarital affairs. 1 eagerly wait to hear
your comments and those of your readers.
Is this behavior in any way strange? Has
any other reader experienced anything li
. C.H., Long Beach, Californ

We get several letters a month from people
who engage т this kind of aural sex. It’s the
adult version of an imaginary playmate, a
way to introduce a touch of Ihe strange into a
healthly relationship.

Ш noticed that you included a Luxman
laser-disc CD player in your November
roundup of electronic goodies. I
intrigued, but [ have some reservations
about laser discs. What are the advantages
of lasers over VCRs? Is it worth all that
money for something that doesn’t allow
you to record? What's the scoop?—J. O.,
Evanston, Шіпої

The advantage is pure and simple: Laser
gives the best image on your television screen.
Next time you visit an audio shop to look at
high-end monitors, note the source of the pic-
lure. Almost every shop we visited used laser
discs to show off the quality of its monitors. A
few years ago, some critics argued that laser
discs were great, but there were so few titles
available that they weren't worth the initial
investment. Pioneer now lists more than
14,000 titles (everything from “The God-
father” to the cult rave “Koyaanisqatsi.” You
may have to wait a few months for “Human-
oids from the Deep"). Prices range from $25
to 535. Is u worth it? Make a list of the ten or
20 movies you are likely to want to see five or
more times and you have your answer. If
making the list is fun, go for the laser disc.
Use a VCR for recording the stuff politely
known as prime-time programing. The fact
that the laser is limited to playback is not a

am

serious deficiency in our minds. Where would
you have been without a turniable?

ІН... you heard of an aphrodisiac that
causes people to have an orgasm every
time they yawn?—K. T., San Diego, С:
fornia.

Yes. It's called clomipramine. It's not an
aphrodisiac but, rather, an antidepres-
sant with an unusual side effect. Both male
and female patients taking clomipramine
found that whenever they yawned, they expe-
rienced orgasm or irresistible sexual urges.
We have yet to see a street version of clomi-
pramine; but if one ever becomes available,
it will change society forever. People will
deliberately seek out boring parties, singer-
songwriters at old folk bars, articles in
Esquire, Phil Donahue shows—anything for
that climactic experience: “Oh, God, this is
boring. . . ." If you've got the social skills (or,
rather, the lack of them), this could be the
drug of the Eighties. We'll keep you posted.

Fma ski nut and my girlfriend loves acro-
bics and health spas. Can you suggest
some kind of compromise vacation for us
this winter? —N. G., Portland, Oregon.
Compromise? Us? Not when it comes to a
ski trip. There happen to be а few terrific
places where your lady can gel a pedicure and
manicure while you take the skiing cure. In
Colorado, check out the Aspen Athletic Club.
and The Snowmass Club, the latter of which
features everything from indoor tennis and
racquetball to a Nautilus training center and
plenty of workout classes. Over at Copper
Mountain, there's the Racquet and Athletic
Club, where you can get in shape for the
annual bikini contestibeach party held every
April. IUs open to men and women. But the
big news in shi-resort spas is the debut in late

November of a truly deluxe layout at the Cliff.
Lodge in Snowbird, Utah. The 'Bird is one of
the world's best deep-powder ski areas,
and the new addition to the popular Cliff
Lodge seems to be in keeping with the quality
of the mountain. Advance word indicates that
the spa will be on the top two floors of the
building (the views of the Wasatch peaks are
breath-taking). There will be a rooftop swim-
ming pool, pneumatic resistance equipment,
open-air hot tubs, massages, saunas and herb-
al wraps. (They put tea bags on your face?
Just kidding.) See you there.

ІМІ, girlfriend recently told me that she
ks she is bisexual. For the past couple
of years, she says, she has been having
dreams about doing everything with
another woman—and it's never the same
woman. She says she has no attraction for
any of her girlfriends. Besides one of them,
I am the only person she has told this to.
She says she loves men for their maleness,
masculinity, roughness, possessiveness,
ises, charm, skill at performing cun-
nilingus and power to control a woman's.
soul. But the dreams are still there. My
girlfriend said she dreams that a woman
has just gotten in bed with her, kissing,
licking and sucking her off to a glorious
orgasm. She said she wakes up and finds
that her nightgown or pajamas are off and
her fingers are in her pussy and she has
come all over her hand onto the sheets and
she is breathing hard, but there's nobody
there. On another occasion, she said, she
was dreaming and beside her bed were all
these tall lit candles; and a beautiful ama-
zon came up and took a knife and cut her
gown off, made love to her passionately
and then stepped into a strap with a dick
on it and fucked her. She said she got out
of bed and prayed to God not to let her
turn into some kind of freak. These dreams
are really haunting her, and she is almost
afraid to go to sleep. Please help.—A. F.,
Hagerstown, Maryland.

Dreaming about an event doesn't necessar-
ily mean that you desire that the dream be-
come reality. The dream itself is probably not
as important as how your girlfriend. feels
about it, We can't guarantee that it will cure
her, but it's possible that making love before
falling asleep will curtail her erotic dreams.
This may provide the sexual release that she
seems to be getting through her dreams, and it
should help her relax and fall asleep more
easily.

Some years back, in the interval
between my first and second marriages, 1
had a lover with whom, for reasons that I
will not explain, I could have sex only once
БЕУ ¡vo cin ico goda, Alte eye (ext
Espaces cumin aal cds.
we made the most of our opportunities—
four ümes during the night and once

45

PLAYBOY

46

the following morning (by then, I was very
pleasantly used up). We had a regular rou-
tine. The first time was light and сазу—
just to take the edge off our appetites, so
that the second time, wc could aim for an
extended session. The third time was
relaxed and playful, and the fourth time
was our special invention. After the third
time, we would go to slecp while my cock
was inserted in her from behind as we lay
on our sides. (After three good sessions of
sex, we were totally relaxed and slept like
babies. We did not toss and turn—and
never once did we become uncoupled.)
After two or three hours, something amaz-
ing and wonderful would happen. Our
bodies would wake us up with intense sex-
ual throbbing—they were so thoroughly
united that we could not distinguish which
of us was responsible for it. Afier enjoying
the feeling for a while, we then would fin-
ish the job—and go to sleep for the rest of
the night. Then breakfast and one for the
road before, reluctantly, I had to leave. I
think your readers might like to try this.—
D. M. N., Lawrence, Kansas.
Thanks for the tip.

Destinado
ing of suspenders with business suits. I
esca ао
and I rather like the style. Is there a code
of dress where belt loops are concerned? Is
it all right to wear suspenders with slacks

that have belt loops, or must one remove
all belt loops from one's slacks or buy new
suits with loopless slacks?—S. R. J., Over-
land Park, Kansas

б
V. it now, or has it ever been, fashionable
fora man to wear both a belt and suspend-
ers at the same time? I seem to recall see-
ing some old movies or publicity stills in
which actors wore both, but I’m not sure.
Actually, I kind of like the idea, but a
friend has pointed out that it’s a little
like wearing two watches. What's the
story?—]. S., New York, New York.

It's perfectly acceptable to wear suspenders
with business suits. If you like the style, go
with it. And, yes, you can wear suspenders with
pants that have belt loops. However, if you're
going into this particular style, it’s а good
idea to invest in pants designed to accommo-
date suspenders. And if yowre goiug to wear
pants (looped or not) with suspenders, your.
best bet is to go unth pleated trousers.

Yes, it's permissible to wear а belt and sus-
penders at the same time—but only if you're.
trying ош for nerd of the year. Our advice is
to pick one look and go with it, For some nifty
ideas, tum to our "On the Scene" suspenders
feature.

П may sound аена but here eos,
anyway. When I take a bath, Г have а
habit of using my pelvic muscles to suck
water into my vagina. It saves money on
douches, but is it dangerous? Have you

ever come across anyone's doing this be-
fore?—Miss M. T., Calgary, Alberta.

This is one exercise that Jane Fonda hasn't
picked up on yet. The water sport you describe
should be harmless (though bath oil or bub-
ble bath in the water may cause irritation). We
doubt that it is an. effective douche. It should,
however, be useful for toning the pubococ-
cygeus and. pelvic muscles, which helps in
sports that involve two participants.

Have you ever heard of a wine enema?
What is its purpose?—W. L., Houston,
Texas.

According to an article in Archives of
Sexual Behavior, “Various intoxicants, such
as beer or wine, or hallucinogens, such as
beyole, may be injected into the body in the
form of an enema. Due to the absorplive
function. of the colonic mucosa, alcohol is
absorbed very rapidly into the blood stream by
this route. This can lead to a fast onset of
intoxication and possible overdose if adminis-
tered too rapidly or in а concentrated form,
such as distilled spirits.” Sounds like great
fun, hey? We haven't spent years mastering
"iquette to throw it all away by asking
the wine steward in a fancy restaurant to
break out the enema bag. You've got to be

kidding.

wine

Er about ready for a new car and am
considering extra warranty protection.
What's your advice on warranties,

SURGEON GENERAL'S WARNING: Quitting Smoking
Now Greatly Reduces Serious Risks to Your Health.

Box and 100's Box Menthol: Less than 0.5 mg. “tar”, 0.05 mg. nicotine; Soft Pack, Menthol and 100's Box: 1 mg. "tar", 0.1 mg. nicotine;

100 Soft Pack and 100's Menthol; 5 mg.

Sims: 6 mg. “tar”, 0.6 mg. nicotine av. per cigarette by ЕТС method.

“tar”, 0.4 mg. nicotine; 120's; 7 mg. “tar”, 0.6 mg. nicotine av. per cigarette, FTC Report Jan. '85.

extended and otherwise?—R. F., Raleigh,
North Carolina.

Warranties are like asses and opinions
Everybody's got one, but some are better than.
others. First, factory warranties keep getting
better as auto makers increasingly use them as
competitive selling points. Most are limited,
meaning that not everything is covered by the
car maker (tires, for example, have separate
warranties provided by their manufacturers).
Factory-warranty coverage varies from one
year or 12,000 miles (whichever comes first)
to five years or 50,000 miles, though some have
no mileage limits. А few even have different
terms for different things—say, 24 months or
24,000 miles on most of the car; five years
or 50,000 miles on the power train; six years
or 60,000 miles on body rust-through. Smart
shoppers compare warranties carefully, along
with other important features.

Extended warranties, normally sold
through dealers and backed by outside compa-
nies (though some car makers offer them),
essentially amount to mechanical insurance.
The buyer bets that he'll have expensive trou-
ble down the road and prepays a portion of
the cost to avoid paying a lot more if he's
right. The seller (the warranty company) bets
that he won't. How good a bet it is depends on
the cost and terms (exactly what is covered,
for how long and for how much), the length
and depth of the factory coverage and the rep-
ulations of the car, its manufacturer, the
dealer and the warranty provider—and on
how well you plan to maintain the car and

how much of a gambler you are. Naturally,
the longer and more extensive the coverage, the
higher the dealer's cut; and the more likely the
car is to need repairs, the higher the tariff.
Provided the price and terms make sense
and the warranty company is reliable, we
wouldn't necessarily advise against it. Still,
we seldom buy extended warranties ourselves.
We figure that if the sellers keep offering
them, they must be profitable; and if they con-
tinue to be profitable for the sellers, they must
be winning most of the bets. к=

СО} het seven рае aS a
seven-course meal consist?—F. W., Dan-
ville, Pennsylvania.

А seven-course meal consists of a combina-
tion of dishes in this sequence: a soup, a sea-
food dish or other appetizer, a fowl course, a.
meat course, a salad, various cheeses and
crackers and dessert. The seven-course-meal
description indicates that this is a rather for-
mal affair, as only three to five courses are
necessary in informal dining.

И have been happily married nearly ten
years. My husband and I have a healthy
sex life. For years, my husband has fanta-
sized about being with two women. At
first, it didn't appeal to me; but for the
past year or so, it's become a real fantasy
for me, too. I've planned this several times
as a surprise for him. My problem is, I
don't know who the other lady will be or
where to find her. We do have a friend

whom I believe would go along with this,
because it's her fantasy, too. I don't know
how to ask her; but then, ГА rather have
an experienced woman the first time.
Should 1 look elsewhere for this lady? How.
should 1 ask our friend? — Mis. W. P., Lin-
coln Park, Michigan.

Ah, the things they don't teach you at Har-
vard Business School. Negotiating these
things with friends is a tricky maneuver, and
you really have to feel your way through it. If
you can envision enjoying а relaxing evening
with this woman, possibly with dinner and
drinks at your place, you might have some
movies on hand for later viewing. Have a
selection of movies ranging from tame to
more adult fare, and you should get some
reaction ov indication of her preference. If
nothing else, you can use this as a starting
point for further discussion. Be brave, be
bold—and be ready to risk putting a friend-
ship on ice.

АЙ reasonable questions—from fashion,
food and drink, stereo and sports cars to dating:
problems, taste and etiquette—will be person-
ally answered if the writer includes a stamped,
self-addressed envelope. Send all letters to The
Playboy Advisor, Playboy Building, 919 М.
Michigan Avenue, Chicago, Illinois 60611.
The most provocative, pertinent queries
will be presented on these pages each monih.

smoke

please try Carlton.

JOVAN EVENING EDITION.

A totally new kind of musk.

ае

Foramanwho wants
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hes sophisticated, subtle

and yet, sexy.

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21986 Beecham Cosmetics Inc.

DEAR PLAYMATES

The question for the month:

What are the best and the worst parts
of having sex?

[o |t ra оета.
the glowing feeling inside that you hope
will last for a while. Talking about sex
before, during and after is good, too. It
is important
to have good
communica-
tion, so that sex
isnt just a
physical indul-
gence. The
worst part is
when sex is
over and you
don't want it to
end, or if your
partner just
goes to sleep
and you're still wide-awake and ready to
talk. The second-worst part of sex is the
wet spot, especially if you're the one who.
has to sleep on it!

aD

KIM MORRIS
MARCH 1986

The best part of sex is all of it. I like
every part, especially foreplay and my cli-
max. The first
time I had sex,

the best part
about it was
that it felt

good. Theworst
part? We got
caught! I guess
I do believe
in the old say-
ing “There are
only two kinds
of sex: good
and better.”
Want an example of great foreplay? I like
to dress up in my best lingerie and clean
the house. He'll be sitting there and ГИ be
bending over trying to get the hard spots,
like under the bed. I know I’m going to get
it—sex, that is—and so does he

ке

TERI WEIGEL
APRIL 1986

О: the plus side, you share something
with someone that not everyone you know
gets to do with you. You find out some-
one’s intimate secrets. He makes love to
youand it’s not for show, It makes you feel
so good, so
alive. Someone
you care about
cares about
you, and it's
not just sex; it's
love, too. Shar-
ing is the best
part. The worst
part is when
опе party uses
sex as а
weapon, as à
way to manipu-
late the other person. Or everything feels
mechanical, as if the other person has
done it so many times before that he for-
gets who you are. Great sex makes you feel
young and fresh, no matter what your аре
really is—and besides all this heavy stuff,

CHER BUTLER.
AUGUST 1985

"Tre best part for me is the physical con-
tact and the emotion that comes out of it.
Sex has to be a bit of a fantasy; it has to be
separate from regular life and stir up my
feelings. I'm
the kind of per-
son who looks
for physical
Contact at ev-
ery level. When
I tak to a
friend, I put
my hand on his
or her arm to
make a point.
Its a way of
being connect-
ed, even non-
sexually. So, obviously, the worst part of
sex or any relationship is when that emo-
tional fecling isn't there, not in my heart or
in my head—when there is no exchange of
emotion at all.

Е

CAROL FICATIER
DECEMBER 1985

The worst part of sex is when your
orgasm doesn't last long enough. The best
part of sex is the foreplay leading to your.
climax. It’s а special feeling when you love
the man you're
Irs the
be-

with
difference
tween Ба
sex and maki
love. All your
tension is re-
leased and you
arcn't afraid to
tell each other
your fantasies
or even to act
them out, If
you are in love
and you trust your partner, sex is just
more satisfying; and that really is the best
part, that emotional build-up.

c

МГ... ep an he mening and finding
him still beside me is the best part of sex. I
like to have someone I care about right
next to me, and an empty bed means no
cuddling in the
morning. The
worst part
would be to
wake up and
find him gone,
unless, of
course,
gone off to
work. Other-
wise, the ro-
mance would
be missing. I’m
not sure if Гус
ever been in love in the sense that I’ve
tried to build a relationship, sexual and
otherwise, for all time. Гус been crazy
about guys, but that's not the samc.
Maybe when I do fall in love for real, I
won't worry so much about being lonely.

EN zi Met ан

JULIE MC CULLOUGH
FEBRUARY 1986

SHERRY ARNETT
JANUARY 1986

x

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.

49

FOR THOSE OBSESSED W/ITH MUSICAL PERFECTION,

Ж

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Compact disc players
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Our newest home compact disc
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barely larger than the disc it plays.
Itevenhas a built-in AM/FM tuner.
Or perhaps you'd prefer a Technics
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The science of sound

No matter which you choose,
you'll experience the musical perfec-
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every Technics CD player has been
engineered with a powerful and
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system (FFI).

А word of caution, however.
Knowing about Technics CD players
could lead to another obsession:
wanting to own all of them.

A-B repeat fime mode

Grand-Dadinare
rred.

Yousee, feed has
sugar, too, though it's
not the kind you

sprinkle on yourcom-

flakes. The intense
heat from charring
turns some of it into
wood-sugar caramel.
As the bourbon
slowly ages, it's this
reddish caramel that
gives Old Grand-Dad
its rich, ruddy color
and helps create its
full-bodied flavor
Sounds simple.
But it's not.
Each barrel has to
be charred to exactly

if

1

E

N

theright depth.
pur» ofan

inch either way can
actually make the
difference between
a magnificent
bourbon and a me-
diocre one.

That's why our
barrels are charred for
45 seconds—not a tick
more ora tock less.
And at 13009 E

We put over 100

INE oH

skillinto the making
of every choice, mel-
low ounce of |
OldGrand- =

i Dad. No

Wonder it's
theundispu- Jj
tedhead И
ofthe

bourbon

Old Grand-Dad

HEAD OFTHE BOURBON ЕАМПУ

THE

PLAY BOY FORUM

COM МЕТА

PORNOGRAPHY FOR

Dr. Park Dietz, one of the stel-
lar minds on the Meese commis-
sion, was asked to describe
TLAYBOY.

"PLAYBOY centerfolds are in а
category that the commission
says is harmless and that I per-
sonally think is actually healthy
in many respects. . . . Adoles-
cent boys make use of sexy
pictures in various ways to stim-
ulate themselves. When they do
that, I hope the sexy pictures
that are available to them
include images like PLAYBOY cen-
terfolds, so that they don't just
turn to the covers of detective.
magazines showing a woman
chained to a radiator while a
man holds a knife to her throat.
Given a choice between the two,
there's no question which I think.
is a healthier one.”

Dr. Dietz is a co-author of a
Journal of Forensic Sciences article
titled “Detective Magazines:
Pornography for the Sexual Sad-
ists?" The entire article is
reprinted in the final report of
the Attorney General's Commis-
sion on Pornography. “We postu-
late that detective magazines
may contribute to the develop-
ment of sexual sadism, facilitate
sadistic fantasies and serve as
training manuals and equipment
catalogs for criminals," says
Dietz. Сес whizz—makes you
wonder where such dangerous
material is being sold. You
guessed it. You can find these
magazines at your local
7-Eleven, as Carl Hiaasen dis-
covered. We offer his column for
your amusement (reprinted with
permission of The Miami Her-
ald). Of course, if the Reverend
Mr. Wildmon gets wind of this,
maybe he'll renew his boycott.
Pretty soon, the only arousing
material available will be Read-
er's Digest and Popular Mechan-
ics. All over the country, young
boys will be jerking off to
“Humor in Uniform” or “Ten
Ways to Retile Your Bathroom.”

hat a pleasure to report

that it's safe again for all

God-fearing citizens to

venture into 7-Eleven for
their boysenberry Slurpees.

The parent company of 7-Eleven,
Southland Corporation of Dallas, has
responded to the Meese commission by
hastily removing from its stores the
twin evil influences of PLAYBOY and
Penthouse magazines.

This is a relief for all us parents who
harbored a dread that our sons might
someday, in a frenzy, vault the counter
to sneak a peek at Miss July. Now Mr.
Jere W. Thompson, president of South-
land, has banished such publications.

1 was so relieved Бу Mr. Thompson's
display of civic concern that 1
dropped by two of his
convenience
stores
last week
to sample
some of the
approved $}
newspapers
and magazines.

Guess what? —
scarcely a
breast, bosom or
buttock to be

Й je
found! Well done, NOS
Thompson, you NES
old smut buster. A

Thanks to your | о
vigilance, the
shelves of 7-Eleven
are once more a rich trove of whole-
some family reading. Take a look:

“GLAMOUR BOYS OF CARNAGE!” А psy-
chological ode to sex killers Ted Bundy
and Christopher L. Wilder, featured in
the August issue of Front Page Detective.
On page 26, you'll also sec a police
photograph ofa nude murdered man in
a bathtub full of blood—but don't
worry, Mom and Dad, there’s not a
naked female breast in the whole maga-
zine.

"WHITE SLAVERS KIDNAP US. GIRLS IN EU-
кове.” Valuable travel tips from the
July 15 issue of the Sun tabloid, includ-
ing an account of “perverted intrigue"
and an actual photograph of a “raped
and drugged” female tourist.

“HAVE FUN WITH GUNS.” From The
Basic Guide to Guns and Shooting, an
impassioned firearms instructor re-
veals, "The modern repeating hand-
gun . . is the answer to social
predation.”

Brings a lump to your throat, doesn’t
i?

“MANIAC MADE THE BRUNETTE DIE THREE
times” From the July issue of Inside
Detective, a quaint torture tale to share
around the family hearth. Don’t miss
the tasteful photo on page 32: a young
stabbing victim strung up to a tree.

“о. & A. WITH SERGEANT SLAUGHTER.”
From the September issue of The Wres-
tler magazine, an interview with onc of
wrestling’s leading intellectuals (“I
love a knockdown, drag-out brawl as
much as the next man!"), plus a photo-
graph of our hero gouging an орро-
nent’s bloody face with a two-pronged
ice pick.

And who says there are no role mod-

els for kids today?

“CRIMSON FOOTPRINTS BESIDE THE ВАТ.

TERED NUDE?” Whoa,
parents, don't
be scared off
by the cap-
tion. This
issue of Inside

Detective
contains no
offensive
photos of
nudes, just
one measly

M decomposed

“THE GAY
HUSTLERS
THOUGHT
MURDER WAS A LAUGHING MAT-
TER” A little something to amuse the
kids on that long bus ride to summer
camp. This tale is bannered in the
August issue of True Detective. As a
bonus for science buffs, the same issue
shows a dead body crawling with—
how shall we put this?—fly larvae.
“FITNESS. RECIPES FOR BETTER
EREASTS"— wait a second; how did this
rubbish slip by? From the July issue of
New Woman magazine, an illustrated
article about special exercises for you-
know-what. Oh, geez, what's that?—a.
picture of a topless woman! Aaaggh!
And bare buttocks on both pages 38 and 39!
Get Dallas on the phone, pronto.
Thompson! Quick, send the Magazine
Purification Squad. Yeah, there’s still
trouble in the 7-Elevens. I know, I
know. Today a nipple, tomorrow a sex
massacre.

Read all about it. —CARL HIAASEN

F E

ASS OR ELBOW?

Living my life on the fringes
of society, I have never before
written to any publication,
but I feel that someone should
applaud the i i
formed and constitutionally
sophisticated manner іп
which our Supreme Court has
allayed the fears of all of us
who weren’t sure, to our con-
stant dismay, whether or not
it approved of our sexual hab-
its.

Let us examine its little cor-
nerstone of coitus:

There are really people
among us—don’t kid your-
self; some of them are respect-
able married people—who
will sneak off to their sordid
love nests and put their
mouths on each other's nether
organs! But we can put them
in jail for ten to 20 years!

By omission, our Supreme
Court has, however, con-
doned tongue in саг, clbow in
anus (for the rcally adcpt,
elbow in nose) and my per-
sonal favorite, knee in anus.
Good work, guys! It's nice to
know this country hasn't
completely gone over to the
weirdos!

Yes, folks, there are some
really sick people out there.
But now, armed with a his-
toric determination in the
very tradition of Solomon,
‘our boys in blue will be called
upon to poke a telephoto lens
into their millions of bed-
rooms and put them in jail
Richard A. Saggese, Founder
Tongues Against Tyrants
Dana, North Carolina

RECTO-CRANIAL INVERSION
Isn't it а violation of the
Georgia sodomy law for the
Supreme Court to have its
head up its ass?
John M. Burt
Corvallis, Oregon

JERKS

We don't need studies by social sci-
entists or Government commissions to

FOR THE RECORD

The following exchange took place between CBS
Nightwatch interviewer Fred Graham and Judith
Reisman, U.S. Justice Department rescarcher and
supposed expert on child affairs. Graham asked
Reisman for her view of sex education:

REISMAN: Well, I think—you know, when I was
a kid, we played I show you, you show me,
remember? E

GRAHAM: So you're for do it yourself?

REISMAN: 1 mean, leave it to the children. Chil-
dren have a way of working themselves out.
"They don't need adults to show them every-
thing, for heaven's sake. They have the capacity
to explore and go about their business in their
own way. Leave them alone. I feel that we, as
adults, have made tremendous mistakes. 1
don't think that we can show kids anything.
Look at our record. Look at our record of child
sex abuse. Look at our record of rape. Look at
our record across the board.

GRAHAM: So, you're really sort of suggesting
playing doctor and nurse in the old tradi-
tion——

REISMAN: Well, it didn't seem to do folks that
much harm back then. . . . When I was a kid,
we still learned about sex. I guarantee it. We
produced children. . . .

to sec masturbators come out of the
closet and march down the street wear-

knows that masturbation
causes insanity, rape, drug
addiction, suicide, commu-
nism, child abuse, divorce,
terrorism, incest, acne and
secular humanism.

We need tough laws to
stop masturbation. Banning
PLAYBOY will help, but that
won't do the whole job. Let's
make masturbation a felony
punishable Бу 20 years in
prison. There should be no
constitutional problem: Mas-
turbation is certainly not a
fundamental liberty the
founding fathers ever men-
tioned.

Richard Sharvy
Eugene, Oregon

BIG TIT
DILDO BONDAGE

There is one area in which
the Meese report really
shines, and that is as a
reference book for anyone
interested in collecting
contemporary American erot-
ica. Featured are 108 pages of
magazine, — paperback-book
and film titles for the discern-
ing consumer. If you've ever
been baffled by the mountain
of adult viewing material at
your local porno store, Meese
and his gang offer a terrific
glance at the very best. By the
way, does anyone know where
I can get a copy of Big ТИ

Dildo Bondage?

Donald Vaughan

Greenacres, Florida

ROASTED WRITING

In 35 An, the emperor
Caligula suppressed The
Odyssey for its expression of
ideals of freedom that hc
regarded as dangerous to
Rome. In 1497 д.р, the works
of Ovid and Dante were
burned. In 1525 and 1526, the
New Testament was publicly
burned in England. Roger
Bacon's writings were con-

demned in Italy in 1278. French theolo-
gians burned the works of Martin

tell us which sinful activity is inspired ing buttons that say, 1 JERK OFF AND IM
by publications such as PLAYBOY. PROUD. It’s too bad the Meese porn

Masturbation is even more shameful commission was too timid to discuss
than homosexual sodomy—I have yet this immoral practice, for everybody

Luther in 1521—and, in 1953, the
Quebec Censorship Board banned a
motion picture on Luther. Ireland
burned Jonathan Swifts work in

N E W S E RON T

what's happening in the sexual and social arenas

HOLY HIT LIST

Escalating their war against evil, more
and more religious fundamentalists are
praying that God strike their enemies
dead. The idea of a holy hit list apparently
began in 1982, when Bob Jones, Jr... of
Bob Jones University in Greenville, South

Carolina, called then—Secretary of State
Alexander М. Haig, Jr., а “monster т
human flesh” for refusing to grant a visa
10 an extremist Irish. politician and pub-
licly called on God to “smite him hip
and thigh, bone and marrow, heart and
lungs . . . and destroy him quickly and
utterly" —which some have construed as
asking God to kill him. In 1983, the Rev-
erend Everett. Sileven, a fundamentalist,
prayed that God would stop Nebraska
public officials from hassling his unac-
credited school “by converting them,
restraining them, removing them or kill-
ing them.” Since then, other fundamen-
talist preachers have taken up the tactic.
An Indianapolis minister has been travel-
ing from city 10 city conducting “courts of
divine jusüce" that don't. quite pass the
death sentence on an offending individual
but do ask, as in "Psalms" 109:9, that
“his children be fatherless and his wife a
widow."

THE BARS ARE PAINTED WHITE

WASHINGTON, Dc—BDeciding a case
from Illinois, the U.S. Supreme Court has
ruled five lo four that persons accused of
being “sexually dangerous” are nol enti-
Шей to Fifth Amendment protection. in
civil procedures that could lead to their
indefinite confinement in prison psychiat-
ric wards, Although such civil actions are

usually based on criminal acts, the Court's
majority held that state psychiatrists could
nol determine need for treatment without
violating an individual's right against

incrimination and, moreover, that
“the state serve[d] its purpose of treating
rather than punishing sexually dangerous
persons by committing them lo an institu-
lion expressly designed to provide psychi-
atric care and treatment." Critics of the
decision. question the difference between.
punishment and prison psychiatric treat-
ment and note that indefinite commitment.
can exceed the prison term allowed for the
offense itself.

FACT OF THE MATTER

The idea that sex education and
family-planning services lead to prom-
iscuity is contradicted by a three-year
study of pregnancy-prevention pro-
grams al four inner-city schools in
Baltimore. The programs involved
1700 students in grades seven through
12, and the Johns Hopkins University
researchers who evaluated the results
found not only a dramatic decrease
in pregnancies among the girls partic-
ipaling but also a tendency on their
part lo postpone first sexual encoun-
ters. Among those who were or who
became sexually active during the
‚study, а substantially greater number
than those not in the programs
attended — family-planning clinics.
Commenting on the study, the chief
evaluator noted that "there has been a
fear [expressed] that exposing young
people to programs that openly discuss
sexual behavior, and that provide them
with contraception, will increase or
hasten sexual activity. In fact,
il appears that an understanding of
the consequences of irresponsible or
unprotected sex, combined with ready
access to services, helps those who are
already sexually active guard against
pregnancy and, at the same time, helps
those who wish to say no to sex.”

SICK REVENGE

LAKE BUTLER, FLORIDA—The state's
attorney's office is investigating charges
that two prisoners slipped blood serum
from an AIDS patient into the coffee of a
prison guard as revenge for his foiling an
escape aliempt. Prison officials learned of

the incident through an informer and now
deny inmates access lo the room where
patients! blood is stored.

CRUEL AND UNUSUAL

TENARKANA, ARKANSAS—Afler being
arrested for public intoxication, a 23-
year-old man made himself even more of a
nuisance by getting his penis stuck in the
jail's metal bunk bed. A jailer making his
rounds found that the prisoner evidently
had tried to have intercourse with a hole
in the bunk and could not extricate him-
self. When ice failed to reduce the swell-
ing, the bed had to be disconnected from
the wall with a cutting torch and, with its
lover, taken to a hospital.

LOOPHOLE IN THE LAW

ABILENE, TEXAS—An infamous legal
technicality has let a Texas topless dancer
slip through a loophole in the law.

According to a news account, an agent
of the Texas Alcoholic Beverage Commis-
sion “observed the dancer go to the side of
the stage, thrust her hips forward and rab
her privates in the face of a 43-year-old
man, who then grabbed her buttocks.” She
was acquitted of lewd conduct under state
law, which specifies that the defendant
must have touched another person's geni-
tals, not his or her face. A female

assistant district attorney said that future
complaints would be worded differently.
The judge suggested that a dancer could
be convicted of “aiding and abetting” the
customer to engage in sexual contact by
"allowing herself” to be touched.

р РК. ЕВ

S

Last July, Attorney Gencral Edwin
Mecse's Commission on Pornography
issued its two-volume report based on a
yearlong investigation of sexually
explicit material. In many, many words,
it daims that pornography is bchind
rape and child abuse, and it suggests
ways to rid ourselves of this dangerous
suhstance.

While I am grateful for thi
pecied Federal concern, it seems perti-
nent to ask whether or not the
porn-causes-harm theory is correct: Is
porn a significant factor in rape, battery
and incest? Will getting rid of it diminish
violence against women and children?
Or is that theory merely a progressive
na on old-fashioned sin-and-morality
ger-wagging? After all, the porn-
causes-harm argument makes the ban-
ning of books, magazines, rock "n' roll
and video seem reasonable to millions of
Americans who would laugh at threats of.
hell-fire and brimstone. Is it a mirage, a
quick fix that kids us into thinking the
solution to abuse is just a matter of ban-
ning dirty pictures? Worse, is it a distrac-
tion that turns our attention away from
the real causes of harm and prevents us
from finding solutions?

The porn-cuuses-rapc argument is
casy to sell. It claims that porn degrades
women: Men look at it and emulate what
they sec. So the course of action seems
clear: Get rid of porn. The road to vic-
tory looks short. It has the lure of “Peace
in our time.”

It also has the cachet of feminist tradi-
tion. Throughout the Seventies, women
examined images in all sectors of culture,
from television commercials to the films
shown in medical schools. Such exami-
nation was a tool for identifying sexism
and exposing its pervasiveness. It makes
sense to apply this technique to pornog-
raphy. But as we do, I think, some of us
are confusing the process of examining
images for their insights about society
with the process of calling those images
causes of social injustice. Feminists who
exposed the symbols of sexism 15 years
ago never claimed that taking Mop &
Glo commercials off the air would bring
us legalized abortion or better pay—or
stop rape.

The mass-market-porn industry took
off only after World War Two. Prior to
the 20th Century, few people, save the
wealthy elite, saw any porn whatsoever.
Yet violence and sexism have been flour-
ishing for thousands of years, and porn
wasn't needed to show people how. Most
of history’s rapists, misogynists and
child abusers read nothing at all. And if
we look at societies where no porn is per-
mitted, such as Saudi Arabia or Iran, we
don't see strong women's-rights records.
We find, instead, a great deal of violence
against women. So it seems unlikely to
me that sexism and rape arc directly
linked to sexually explicit material. It
seems unlikely that porn initiates vio-
lence or lousy pay.

It seems more reasonable that violence
against women begins with economic
discrimination—so that men learn to
consider women burdens—and with the
infantalization of women (either as frag-
ile figurines or as hormonal hurricanes),
men hold women in contempt. It also
seems reasonable that violence against

women begins with boy training that
makes aggression a daily project of

masculinity and with child-rearing
arrangements that leave Mom as the
prime—often the only—caretaker.

It’s on Mom that all one's infantile cx-
pectations are foisted and all one's car-
liest disappointments blamed. Dad
comes into the picture only later, as a
firm but reasonable force. So we act out
our desire for Mom’s attention and our
rage that she's not always there on all the
women in the rest of our lives. Although
we were all raised more by Mom than by
Dad, there's an edge of ire men feel
about women that women don’t feel,
because, after all, women are us.

All this shows up in pornography, just
as it does in art, advertising and fashion.
And because pornography is a genre of
extremes—schematic, repetitive, ritual-
istic, fantastic—it exaggerates and
tills our psychosexual blueprints. It
illuminates our discomfort with the
nakedness of sex, our panic at our

arousal and loss of control, and men's
lust for and anger at the female figure

But pornography didn't start any of
this. And getting rid of porn won't end it.
Porn may be sexist, as much of it is;
may be racist or violent, as some of it
but it's silly to call it a cause of sexism,
racism or violence. More important, it's
silly to think that banning it will halt the
mayhem. I'm afraid the antiporn
brouhaha of the past few years is a red
herring, luring us away from the sources
of sexism and its solutions.

If we want to halt rape and battery,
feminists and Federal commissions
would do well to look at the political and
economic systems that keep women poor
and powerless. We'd do well to fight for
equal pay, nontraditional jobs, a feminist
presence in politics, self-defense classes,
sex education, more effective and bet-
ter-disseminated birth control.

If we want to address the psychological
fuel behind misogyny, we'd do well to
look at the family and imbalances in par-
enting. Feminists and Federal commis-
ns would better spend their time
getting Mom out of the house at least
half the time and Dad back in than in
closing porn parlors, We'd still have-por-
nography in which we played out our
desires and fears—some of which are not
nice—but the pictures and tales we'd
invent for ourselves might be less sexist.

О

Unlike the 1970 Presidential commis-
п on pornography that found mo
causal link between pornography and

lence, the Meese commission spon-
sored no research of its own. It held pub-
lic hearings six cities and heard
testimony mostly from vice cops, ob-
scenity prosecutors, representatives of
prodecency organizations and people
who identified themselves as “victims” of
pornography. Not a single artist or writer
was invited to speak; those who asked to
be heard encountered significant resist-
ance. Few psychologists or sex educators
who don't a priori support suppression оГ
porn were given a forum.

"The commissioners based their con-
clusions on first-person accounts of
abuse, their own intuitive feclings and а
number of laboratory studies that sug-
gest pornographic images affect attitudes
about rape. But attitudes, as even the sci-
entists doing this research will tell you,
are notoriously poor predictors of behav-
ior. People just don't accomplish with
any statistical reliability what they say
they will. And no matter what people do
in an experimental sctup, thcy know

«——— — — F O R UM]

NO ЕТ

КАВ

оо к

an experiment and that no one will get
hurt.
Several rescarchers told The New York

Times that “violence in the social en-

vironment" was morc to blame for rape
or sexism than were depictions of sex,
and the Society for the Scientific Study of

Sex called the commission's conclusions
incomplete and inadequate” and a dan-
ger to future sex research. Last May, the
Institute of Criminal Justice in Copenha-
gen reported that in European countries
where restrictions on porn have been
lifted, incidence of rape over the past ten
10 20 years has declined or remained con-
stant, Neither the Canadian nor thc Brit-
ish studies of pornography found porn to
be a causc of sexual violence.

Га like to consider other arguments of
the porn-causes-harm doctrine. Some
statistics suggest that convicted rapists
are guilty of acts pictured in pornogra-
phy. So are consenting adults who per-
form the missionary position. And,
certainly, gruesome things have been
donc to women for centuries without the
help of such magazincs as Hustler. Still
other data demonstrate that communi-
ties with more porn report more гарез.
Yet higher incidences of rape arc also
found in arcas with strong sales of non-
sexual men's magazines, such as Field €?
Stream.

But what about the anecdotal evi-
dence? Women say their boyfriends or
husbands get ideas from porn and force
them to do what the photos depict.
Should a woman object if a man forces
gna? I would. The prob-
lem is not Italian cuisine or Kama Sutra
positions. The problem is force—eco-
psychological or physical.

What about the rapists and wife
batterers who say they learned their stuff
from porn? It's a clever ploy. Just lock at
who gets off the hook: First it was the
Devil that made them do i
Miss Jones. And something is not quite
right about the proposition that men
rape because they learned—from porn—
that it’s OK or that women like it

One thing feminism has accomplished
is the redefinition of rape as a violent act,
not a sexual onc. But I suspect it was al-
ways clear to thc rapist facing his terri-
fied victim that she didn't “want it."
Men who rape do so because it hurts. If
we want to deal with rape, we ought to
deal with the reasons some men want to
inflict so much pain.

.

There is still a question nagging: Why
does the antiporn argument feel so right?
Why is it persuasive to so many men and

women? To begin with, it offers the
appeal of activism. Since porn is v
ble and already illicit, you can organize
against it relatively easily. Witness the
renown Women Against Pornography
has achieved in just five or six ycars. The
participants feel they're doing something
to better women's lot, and we all need to
feel effective.

Psychologist Paula Webster suggests
that something clse is going on. She
believes that the antiporn argument is
persuasive because it carries “the voice
of Mom.” And she may have something
here. Most of us have grown up with the
idea that sex is icky; most women have
grown up with the assurance that men
are dangerous. We've heard it indirectly
or we've heard it point-blank, but we've
heard it all our lives.

As adults, we have our own ideas
about sex. But the old lessons remain at
the core of our emotions. So when we're
told that pornography makes men
dangerous, it clicks. Already suspicious
of sex, we аге ready to call it culprit.

Now, there is a great deal of violence
done to women—the FBI reports that a
woman is raped every six minutes—but
rage and violence, not sexually explicit
images, are the core of the problem. And
we must get at the core, using our time
and resources shrewdly. In the past few
years, feminists and the media have
spent a great deal of money on the porn
debate. Yet last year, New York Women
Against Rape nearly closed for lack of
funds. And the Government that funded
the Meese commission stopped alloca-
tions earmarked for battered-women’s
shelters because they were ostensibly
“antifamily.” No one is going to con-
vince me that a Government that has
rolled back Affirmative Action, fought

FEIFFER*

© 1985, Jules For

against comparable worth and stripped
hundreds of programs that benefit wom-
en and children opposes pornography be-
cause it's dangerous to those very same
women and children.

We can't afford to be duped—cither
by a duplicitous Government or by what
“feels right." If we go after pornography
when rape, battery and discrimination
have thrived for so long without it, then
we'll still be left with rape, battery and
discrimination even if we get rid of porn.
Would that the solution to women's
problems—or to that of rape alone—
were just a matter of climinating porn.

There's a second reason to be skeptical
of the sex-is-icky/men-are-dangerous
echo. It's protective and meant to shield
women from harm. But while women
must. protect. themselves with political,
economic and physical clout, we can't be
only defensive. We can't live our lives in
fear. Fear paralyzes. The antiporn move-
ment, focusing on danger rather than on
its remedies, paralyzes. It teaches fear.
Women cannot afford to build a move-
ment—or mind a Government—that
tells us that sex, or pictures and fantasies
about sex, are so frightening that we
must give them up. We cannot scurry
away from passion or pictures of passion,
hoping that if we stay away from them
altogether, we'll be safe. We cannot be
gulled into thinking that sex is sexist. If
we do, we'll end up denying ourselves the
replenishment that sex brings in a bogus
exchange for safety—as though such a
denial would even provide it. We owe
ourselves morc than that.

Marcia Pally is a journalist who has
written extensively on censorship in the arts.
The above text is excerpted from a June
1986 speech delivered to the American
Library Association.

н. Reprinted with permission ol Universal Press Syndicate. All rights reserved.

STATISTICS

You've seen this belore—a retired
vice cop or a wild-cycd evangelist starts
reciting statistics that supposedly show
a correlation between pornography and
sex crimes or other forms of violence.

A recent letter from Haven Gow, а
police reporter, to the editor of The
Washington Post charged:

“Thirty-six serial murderers inter-
viewed Бу FBI agents confessed that
pornography influenced their thinking
and behavior.

“The Los Angeles Police Depart-
ment points out that in more ıhan 40
child-sex-abuse cases it
investigated, pornographic
photos were found. -

“A study by Michigan
state police detective Dar-
rell Pope revealed that, of
38,000 sexual-assault cases
on file in Michigan, 41
percent involved use of
pornography before ог
during the assault.” |

Although not necessar-

ily true, such arguments |
ате alarming—because |
they show faulty reasoning
and because they confuse
correlation with cause.
This is a common mistake
and one the Meese com-
mission made repeatedly
in its 1960-page report.

It's time for a lesson in

statistics. Shown here
(from top to bottom) arc
four famous smut busters:
Ed Meese, Jerry Falwell,
Donald Wildmon and
Andrea Dworkin. (A small
sample, but we are work-
ing on a limited budget.)

All four have double |
chins. This is 100 per-
cent correlation!

Now, if we were the Û |
Meese commission, we |
would confuse correlation
with causc. We would call
a press conference to |
announce that (1) busting
smut causes obesity or (2) having jowls
leads one to dislike pornography. How-
ever, this is faulty reasoning. For one
thing, it ignores the negative cases
the pencil-necked geeks who dislike
erotica and the fatties who relish every
conceivable explicit descri n of sex.

Besides, mercly linking smut busting

and gross human appearance does not
tell us anything about the reason for
the connection. Perhaps denial of sexu-
ality creates an incredible appetite for
junk food. Perhaps people with double
ci will be forgiven in the afterlife for
having consumed all those calories.
Perhaps because they are out of shape,
such people cannot bear to see pictures
of morc physically fit humans having
sex. Perhaps gluttony in one appetite
diminishes interest in other appetites.

Do you see the problem?

Carol Tavris, writing in the Los Ange-
les Times, pointed to the
central flaw in the Meese
commission's reasoning:
“Even if rapists are unusu-
ally fond of pornography,
we cannot conclude that
pornography causes rape.
Perhaps rapists are men
who are drawn to por-
nographic literature—or
perhaps a third factor,
such as abuse in child-
hood, causes men to rape
and to enjoy violent por-
nography."

And Judith Becker and
Ellen Levine, the two dis-
senting members of the
commission, wrote, “То
say that exposure to por-
nography in and of itself
causes an individual to
it a scxual crime is
not supported
jal-science data
and overlooks many of the
other variables that may
be contributing causes.”
But the Mcese commis-
sion didn't need science.
Henry Hudson, another
heavily jowled judicial
gerbil, made a remark-
able admission: "If we
relicd exclusively on scicn-
tific data for every one of
our findings, I’m afraid all
of our work would be
inconclusive.” Right. We
feel that our research into the correla-
tion between oversized jowls and cen-
sorship is "incondusive" We have
applied to the Justice Department for
onc of those $734,000 grants it tosses
about like napkins at a rib fest to in-
vestigate further this significant
connection. JAMES R. PETERSEN

FEEDBACK (continued)

1708. Voltaire’s writings were seized,
bumed or banned in France, Prussia,
Rome, Switzerland and the United States.

The greatest censor of all, Adolf Hitler,
cast into the flames the works of Sholem
Asch, Maksim Gorki, Karl Marx, Sig-
mund Freud, Helen Keller, Jack London,
Emest Hemingway, John Dos Passos,
Thomas Mann, Albert Einstein, Heinrich
Heine, Felix Mendelssohn, Upton Sinclair
and many others.

In 1986, Andrea Dworkin (to our
knowledge, no relation to us, but still an
embarrassment) took basically the same
historical approach to PLAYBOY.

You must be proud that she has elevated
you to this august literary-scientific circle.

Jonathan and Judith Dworkin
Shaker Heights, Ohio

FREEDOM FROM RELIGION

As a feminist and a civil libertarian, I
have always found pLaysoy’s defense of
First Amendment rights to be consistent
with its portrayal of women: Neither is
offensive to persons capable of independ-
ent thought. This seems to be a rare com-
modity in government today.

L entered law school at the age of 34 and
пом, just past my first year's studies, I see
a long fight ahead. It’s a battle I don’t look
forward to, because the upper levels of the
Federal courts are becoming saturated
with judges not committed to the words of
the First Amendment.

Ours is a Bill of Rights, not of privi-
leges. Those rights were designed to be
secure from the tentacles of government
power, majority rule and fringe-group
influence. Freedom of speech involves free-
dom of thought, as well —“the free market
place of ideas." Freedom of religion exists
in tandem with freedom from religion.
"Those who dictate what I may read would
be appalled if I dared to dictate what they
may believe. My speech is no less pro-
tected than their faith. That protection
includes pLavsoy's right to publish what I
wish to read and see. That such protection
extends to so-called pornography is not
an affront to freedom, it is a tribute to it.
And isn't freedom the basis of American
society?

I would like to thank pLaysoy and the
Playboy Foundation for defending the
rights of both sides. Perhaps this latest
assault on liberty will serve a purpose: to
alert those who believe that freedom in a
free society is permanent and safe from
harm.

Kathleen Hague
Carol Stream, Illinois

The Vodka to receive.

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amor. BRYANT GUMBEL

a candid conversation with the high-flying, early-rising host of the
“today” show about news, sports, racism and fast-food celebrity fare

Bryant Gumbel began the day as he had
done for the past four years, leaving home
before dawn, riding in a company car
through the barren city streets to a midtown
skyscraper. As always, he was dressed impec-
cably: Robert Stock suit, monogrammed cuffs,
matching tie and socks. And under his arm,
as he rode the elevator to his turd-floor of-
fice, a sheaf of precisely penned notes—
homework, he called it—encapsulating the
lives of the people he would interview in
America’s bedrooms and living rooms that
day, as he'd done the day before and would do
again the next day. But he wasn't complain-
ing. It wasn't as tough as when he'd started,
saddled with poor ratings and suggestions
that he wasn't the man for the job. No way.
Now the “Today” show was on top, everyone
was his friend, he was well paid and, most
important, happy. As he walked down the
long hall to the make-up room, one could
hear him humming contentedly, “Purple
rain, purple vain, . . ."

After the show, Gumbel posed with Jane
Pauley and Willard Scott for promotional
photos hyping an upcoming show to be broad-
cast from abroad. Then there were business
calls, a quickie interview, plans for playing
golf in new and exotic locations and a call
тот his wife. At noon, he left the office and

“I'm a raucous guy who, for better or worse,
has this reputation of being a brawler in
terms of his personal dealings, who doesn't
mind screaming or telling it like it is. Im

about as subtle as a punch m the face."

was driven to the Carlyle hotel to tape a three-
part interview with the band Genes

Then he was im the car again, being
whisked back to the office. Another three-hour
session for his “Playboy Interview” would
complete the day. The pace surely made the
anticipation of leaning back in his big office
chair, talking about himself, seem positively

relaxing. But Gumbel showed few signs of

fatigue. In fact, he was downright lively,
wondering if success had spoiled Eddie Mur-
phy and Joe Piscopo, declaring his dislike for
high-top tennis shoes on women and want-
ing to talk about all-time favorite albums.
His, of course, паре Rain.” But he also
declared a fondness for Jerry Butler's “Spice
of Life,” Marvin Gaye's “Whats Goin’ On”
and the Moody Blues’ "Days of Future
Passed.” And he intoned lyrics from the last
with a familiar gravity to prove it.

"Breathe deep the gathering gloom. Watch
lights fade from every room, Bed-sitter people
look back and. . . .'"

Suddenly, Gumbel stopped and chuclled
self-consciously. After all, there he was, the
intelligent, comforting, probing, nimble host
of the “Today” show, being chauffeured down
Fifth Avenue on а blazing summer after-
noon, reciting pop poetry from the Sixti

But the whimsical moment simply revealed

“1 do get letters that say, "You're untypically
black. You dress nicely, talk nicely, look nice."
But most of the black people 1 know look like
me, talk like me, dress like me. The problem is
more in people's perception than in me.”

an off-camera personality that would surprise
more than a few early risers—because, one
soon discovers, with Bryant Gumbel, what
you sce on TV is not all you get.

What you do see is someone who, on a typi-
cal day, сап handle interviews that range
from Lena Horne and her author daughter,
Gail Buckley, to Meese-commission spokes-
man Alan Sears, from starlet Janet Jones to
Senator Bob Packwood and Representative
Dan Rostenkowski, And then banter with
Scott, discuss a movie with Gene Shalit and
talk offhandedly with several contributing
reporters about their stories.

Gumbel handles his on-camera chores with
such finesse and conscientiousness that it's no
mystery why his co-workers have fondly nick-
named him Mr. Television. Or why he and
Pauley were, in 1986, named Broadcasters of
the Year by the International Radio and Tele-
vision Society.

Not bad for a self-described smart-aleck
Creole kid from Chicago via New Orleans
who claims he had little self-confidence while
growing up, simply because he was darker
than his light-skinned relatives. The son of a
probate judge whom he idolized and the sec-
ond of four children, Bryant Charles Gumbel
was born on September 29, 1948. He was
raised in the Hyde Park section of Chicago,

PHOTOGRAPHY BY BENNO FRIEOMAN
"NBC pays me a salary they believe propor-
tionate to my worth in the market place. Am I
overpaid? Yes. Do I make the going rate for
someone in my position? Yes. Am I going to

apologize for that? No.

61

PLAYBOY

62

an integrated community quite unlike the rest
of the city that contamed il.

But attending. Bates College in Maine
during the heyday of black pride changed
Gumbel's self-perception. He emerged as self-
confident, aggressive and eager lo compete.
AL first, he sold cardboard cartons in Man-
haltan. Then he tried. unemployment, fol-
lowed by writing for Black Sports magazine.
But his career didn't get started until 1972,
when he so impressed KNBC in Burbank that
it gave him a weekend sports anchor jol—on
the spot. His audition was simply better than.
some of the station's current personalities’ on-
the-air performances.

By 1976, Gumbel was KNBC's sports di-
rector. At the same time, he broke into the net-
work ranks and, with his watch-my-dust
attitude, got himself noticed. Soon he was
hosting the М.Е... pregame show, weekend
baseball, the world series and N.C.A.A. bas-
kelball. Before long, he became NBC's
national sports anchor. A prime-time sports
show, "Games People Play," followed, as well
as thrice-weckly contributions to "Today."

In spite of such success, the tapping of
Gumbel in 1981 to replace Tom Brokaw on
the “Today” show caused problems. It wasn't
because Gumbel was black—though some
concern about that was voiced. Most doubts
were based on his sports background. Accord-
ing lo some executives at NBC News, only
“real” journalists merited the morning
anchor job.

But Gumbel, who'd traded an audience of
80,000,000 for one of 8,000,000 when he
joined the sometimes second-, sometimes third-
place "Today" show, proved unflappable.
Almost immediately, the press confronted him
with a new problem—his relationship with
senior “Today” show member Pauley. The fact
that she had been passed over for the top
anchor spot spurred rumors of dissension and
hurt feelings. She and Gumbel largely deny
them. As if that weren't enough, the “Today”
show's poor ratings for the first 18 months
after Gumbel’s ascension put him squarely in
the hot seat. But he hung in, helped greatly by
the support of his “Today” show producer and
friend, Steve Friedman. Then a news writer,
Friedman had been present at Gumbels
1972 KNBC audition. And he'd remembered
him mine years later, when Brokaw an-
nounced his departure.

Since then, Gumbel's (and the show's) pop-
ularity has grown. Today, no one denigrates
his sporis origins, he and. Pauley are obvi-
ously pals and the show is on top most days—
with no signs of falling off.

We sent Contributing Editor David Rensin
to New York to spend a week with Gumbel
and capture the man some have called a "tele-
vision animal" at the current peak of his
career. Says Rensin:

“Bryant Gumbel thinks a lot of himself.
And considering his track record, it's no won-
der. So it was refreshing to discover, when we
met and I outlined Ihe time demands of our
upcoming sessions, that he was surprised that
we actually wanted him for a “Playboy Inter-
view.’ Hed done something—and gotten
somewhere—with his life that most young

men only fantasize about. In a business full
of false modesty, Gumbel’s surprise sounded
genuine and was nice to hear. I left him the
weekend to adjust to the idea.

“We talked every day in his ‘Today’ show
corner office. Gumbel drank ice water and
smoked a big cigar and occasionally propped
his feet up on the desk—though he never loos-
ened his tie. The surroundings were like

scrapbook pages from Gumbel’s life. Photos of

his wife, June, children Bradley, seven, and
Jillian, three, his Westchester home and
Gumbel pondering a putt adorn one wall.
Another wall is all bookcase, stuffed with
hardcover, golf manuals and scattered
Teddy bears. There's also a computer termi-
nal, a rack of hats, golf knickknachs, a couch
on which he never sat and а gum-ball
machine.

“Although he sometimes joked about the
hours involved and reported that co-workers
had mentioned his more-tired-than-usual
look, Gumbel was as fine an interview subject.
as Гое encountered т some time. I soon dis-
covered what Friedman meant when he said,
"Bryant will tell you what he feels and thinks
about the people he knows, and his candor
will probably surprise you. He's a man sus-
tained by his beliefs." Gumbel answered que-
ries thoughtfully, often passionately.

“Thinking about the interview in retro-

“Tf television has one
enormous challenge in
the years ahead, it’s going
to be separating worth
from celebrity.”

spect, 1 can't help feeling that Gumbel wears
à mask that few are allowed to pierce. It's not
intended to dissemble. It does not hide dirty
laundry. In fact, it seems more a shield for the
inner man, who, if given a choice, would
rather be on the golf course or at home watch-
ing sports than speaking for Ihe public record.
But he musters his intelligence and honesty
and plunges right in. When Gumbel has
agreed to do something, he simply does и.
“This trouper mentality could not have
been better demonstrated than during a
follow-up phone conversation when Gumbel
was interrupted with another call. He came
back on the line and said there was a family
crisis and he'd call back. A half hour later,
the phone rang. I asked if everything was
OK. ‘Frankly, no,’ said Gumbel. “My father-
in-law just had а heart attack.’ I immediately
offered to postpone our talk indefinitely. *No,"
he said, Tue calmed down my wife and her
dad's in good hands. There's nothing else I
can do, Let's finish this.

PLAYBOY: Let's start with what time
GUMBEL: Four лм [Smiles] It’s the most-
often-asked question which says a lot
about morning television.

PLAYBOY: How do you cope with the hours?

GUMBEL: Assuming that I do? Most people
believe it's a tougher grind than it is. They
dread getting up. The fact that I'm
already at work when they're barely
dressed fascinates them. But when I took
the job, I promised I would never gripe
about the hours. Many people get up very
early to do their jobs—and often for a lot
less money than I make. So the last thing
they need is to read about me bitching and
moaning.

PLAYBOY: Especially with your show and
your network's being number one. Did
you have a game plan for success?
GUMBEL: I've never had this goddamn
thing laid out. I have never been the kind
of guy who's said what he wanted ulti-
mately. In fact, it kind of upsets me when I
read this crap about someone in our busi-
ness answering the question "When did
you realize you wanted to be a journalist?"

could see this. at [ intended to do.”
What happens is part accident. part being
good, part finding what is right for you.
It’s taking advantage of opportunities. It's
luck. But the minute you say luck, people
think you don't deserve the success you'v
gotten. That’s bullcrap. Luck comes
realizing you have the talent and in getting
the chance to show that talent.

: Well, then, is success what you
thought it would be like?

GUMBEL: Boy! That's a question Гуе never
been asked. It’s . . . a lot more compli-
cated than I expected. When I was
vounger, I always equated success with
money, material things and a certain sense
of case about life. But I didn't envision the
tough decisions. I do confess to a glint of a
self-satisfied smile sometimes when I am
sitting in the back of a limo heading for a
first-class flight to a place where people
are anxiously awaiting my arrival in order
to show me a first-class time. It's a very
heady life. Yes, that’s what I thought it
would be—but without complications
PLAYBOY: What are some of them?
GUMBEL: Oh, hell, everyt! from never
finding enough time in the schedule to try-
ing to walk down the street and be normal
ag about an interview like this to
opening a newspaper and reading that
somebody thinks you
PLAYBOY: We'll get to what people say
about you; but first, as someone who's
used to asking the questions, why do you
worry about answering them?

GUMBEL: I feel self-conscious. Somehow,
what I do always seems less important to
me than it docs to others. It’s like being
with your relatives at Thanksgiving and
you're the only one who is in the glamor
world; all anyone wants to talk about is
what you do. After a while, you feel like,
God, let me out of here.

Also, I don't want to be part of the
celebrity sweepstakes. I don't want to be
like people who play it for all it’s worth:
Cher, who's always pumping whatever her
latest thought is; Sylvester Stallone, trying
to convince people that the stuff he’s put-
ig out is art. It's getting way out of hand.

It's reached such extremes in this country
that it’s embarrassing to be included. I
like to think of myself as above the fray.
PLAYBOY: If you're above the fray, how do
you stomach the incessant hype that's ped-
dled on your program?

GUMBEL: I understand; we are guilty. That
doesn't mean I have to like it. [Pauses] If
television has one enormous challenge in
the years ahead, it's going to be separating
worth from celebrity. I'm not one of those
guys who say all we ought to watch is pub-
lic TV. I just wonder what viewers think
when four minutes of Bob Packwood and
Dan Rostenkowski talking about tax
reform is followed by four minutes of Jane
Fonda talking about her workout book.
Because we have allotted them equal time,
does the audience view them as being of.
equal importance?

PLAYBOY: Do you usually give this much
thought this early in the day to the phi-
losophy of television?

GUMBEL: No. Generally, Гт too busy to
worry about it

PLAYBOY: When do you worry about it?
GUMBEL: When I’m on vacation and
watching what everyone clse watches.
PLAYBOY: Do you watch the Today show
when you're not on?

GUMBEL: Sometimes. I usually feel that
there's too much talk, too much script. But
I don't get up at seven Ам. and watch like
а hawk, like most people. Гус never been a
morning-show person.

PLAYBOY: Do vou kecp your сус on the
competition?

GUMBEL: Never watch them.

PLAYBOY: Rcally? Not even tape them for
later viewing?

GUMBEL: Never. Taping someone and then
trying to learn from his show or criticize it
or counter his moves just isn’t my bag. Let
me add that I don't tape myself, either.
PLAYBOY: Why don’t you watch the other
morning shows?

GUMBEL: A couple of reasons. In 1970,
when I was selling paper cartons, one of
the things [ learned was not to worry
about the other guy’s product—just make
yours as good as possible and sell it.
"That's always stuck. I don’t mean to
sound arrogant, but frankly, I don't give а
damn about what David Hartman docs.
PLAYBOY: Have you ever met Hartman?
GUMBEL: Yes.

PLAYBOY: And?

GUMBEL: He's tall. [Smiles] We first met in
L.A. when I was doing sports. He liked
being around sporting events. We run into
cach other now and then in airports and at
various functions. He's always very cor-
dial. I wouldn't expect otherwisc. But our
exchanges are brief, and we have never sat
down and talked about this business.
PLAYBOY: Docs that scem unusuzl?
GUMBEL: | don't know what purposc it
would serve—though I probably would
havc had the answer when he was winning.
Now that he's losing, 1 haven't changed
my opinion

PLAYBOY: Today show producer Steve

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Friedman says Hartman goes nuts when
the ratings slip. How about you?
GUMBEL: I let Steve go nuts. Гиз not nearly
as volatile as has been rumored. My quick
fuse has more to do with my own per-
formance. Blowing up about the ratings:
Naw. Slips have caused me sadness ап
when they were really bad, slight depres
ion. The ratings are more important to
the network, the people who sell the time
PLAYBOY: Come on. Arc vou really that
detached?
GUMBEL: Га be a fool to say I don't care at
all. It's hard not to take и personally. Ш
we're going to keep score, I'd rather finish
first. But I don't live сусгу day for destroy-
ing Good Morning America. Vm not a big
believer in the Nielsen's being able to
gauge what's good—or, more
draw a correlation between w
and what work
PLAYBOY: But Friedman takes it more seri-
ously, doesn’t he? It sounds as though he
truly hates Hartman.
GUMBEL: I don't think he hates David. He
hates this amorphous thing called Good
Morning America. Because when they were
winning, they said some really stupid
things. It's no secret that when the folks at
ABC used to beat our brains out, we'd say
it was tough to finish first in the morning
when wed been finishing last the night
before for eight years, and they'd say, “АВ,
you guys аге garbage. That's an alibi."
Now that the shoc is on the other foot,
all we hear from them is "It's tough for us
to win, because the network is having some
bad prime-time problems.” But we allow
them that, because it's true. You don't
exist as an island in this business. You'd
love ta be like Bill Cosby. Put him on PBS
and he'd still win. But few programs are
like that, and certainly not news programs.
Good Morning America was arrogant in
the extreme, much as a lot of ABC was. Г
believe there’s a feeling within this indus-
try of respect between CBS and NBG,
even a certain amount of affection, But
both kind of dislike АВС. You see a lot of
people moving between NBC and CBS.
But ABC? Don't like 'em
PLAYBOY: Some might say that aggressive-
ness is what made ABC overtake you a few
years ago and sparked your show.
GUMBEL: May well be. Not only were they
the bad kid on the block, the bigmouth
kid, but they were also winning. [Не
pauses and gazes out his office window, over-
looking the Rockefeller Center skating rink)
See her in the white T-shirt, standing by
the stairs?
PLAYBOY: Near the guy with the camera?
GUMBEL: Next to the group at the top of the
stairs. See her pointing, moving away?
[Smiles] 1 wish I could watch all day.
PLAYBOY: We get the impression that you're
bored with the ratings race
GUMBEL: Yeah. I say that as a winner. Гус
said it as a loser. More importance is at-
tached than it merits. And what's worse is
that it’s not viewed just as the Today show
versus Good Morning America but as Bry-

ant Gumbel versus David Hartman.
That's just not fair. I didn't want all the
blame when they were winning and I don't
want all the credit now that we are. Life
doesn't work that way.
PLAYBOY: Do you get an honest day's pay
for an honest day's work?
GUMBEL: NBC pays me a salary they
believe proportionate to my worth in the
market place—and the dollar value I'm
capable of bringing to the network. Am I
overpaid? Yes. Do 1 make the going rate
for someone in my position? Yes. Am I
going to apologize for that? INo.
PLAYBOY: How would you characterize
what your show docs? What's its job
description?
GUMBEL: As a writer once said, it’s sup-
posed to "gently inform a waiting Amer-
ica." That’s partly truc. Our job is,
foremost, to tell people what happened in
the world after they went to sleep. A guy
wants to know if he should go to work
today. Ifthe bomb dropped, he can stay at
home. Secondly, since we're engaged in
trying to get an audience, we have to enter-
tain to some degree. Around here, we
always think in terms of giving food for
conversation. Much of our lives is spent.
engaged in small talk. So we try to give
people things they can use. None of it is a
life-and-death matter, just the stuff of gen-
eral conversation.
PLAYBOY: Sort of like fast food?
GUMBEL: | wouldn't necessarily character-
ize it that way. Some of it is terribly dis-
posable, Some is gourmet variety.
PLAYBOY: What do you think is the greatest.
fault of the morning shows?
GUMBEL: А tendency toward sameness,
routinization. If it worked yesterday,
that's good enough reason to do it tomor-
row. But I could probably say the same
thing of most of television, By its very
nature, it is more imitative than creati
There are limits to how creative you can
be in the morning. We may want to spice
things up, but what can we do—fake the
news? We've always been a news/infor-
mation/entertainment show, and that isn’t
going to change. We're not perfor
brain surge We're just privy to informa-
tion we're trying to get across to
als on the other side of the camera.
PLAYBOY: You were once NBC's main
sports host. You'd anchored the N.F.L.
pregame show since 1977; you'd had your
sports/variety show, done the world
scries. You had an audience of 80,000,000.
Why did you trade that for an audience of
8,000,000?
GUMBEL: I know I had a good thing going.
I was good at what I did and enjoyed it. I
don't want to sound as though I’m patting
myself on the back, but doing sports
wasn't hard for me. Га become comfort-
able. ГА reached the point where I could
roll out of bed, go into the studio and do.
my show from front to back, without a
hitch, as smooth as could be. But] always
found myself thinking that I could do а lit-
tle better, challenge myself. I decided to

try something new. But I had reservations
up to the time I took the job.
PLAYBOY: For instance?
GUMBEL: The show had been on the air for
30 years, and the host had read the news
for a grand total of two. Tom Brokaw, who
was leaving, had donc it in an attempt to
take advantage of what he did best. But
the show I envisioned was going to be
drastically different. I wasn’t going to read
the news; we were going to be an awful
lot looser. But because Г happened to be
the guy who followed Brokaw, my reluc-
tance was perceived negatively. Everyone
wanted me to back-step and admit I just
couldn't do it. Friedman and I had many
conversations about it. I don't think he
was hung up abaut my approach, but he
was fighting his own wars with the news-
division hierarchy—a different regime
from the one that exists today—who were
saying, "Hey, he's a sports guy. Why
are you even talking?” Then, “All right,
put him on the air and we'll take a look."
PLAYBOY: Why didn't you want to read the
news?
GUMBEL: I just didn't think it was impor-
tant. If anything, it compromised the
host's role. He's the one running the show,
trying 10 communicate with the audience
on a person-to-person basis. He's not this
authoritarian figure telling you that 58
people died in a plane crash. But trying to
tell people that was like beating my head
against the wall.
PLAYBOY: Were you worried about being
compared with Brokaw, as Dan Rather
was when he followed Walter Cronkite?
GUMBEL: To think that is to suggest that
when Тот left the Today show, it was so
dominant in the ratings that it had to bea
concern. The numbers don't bear that out.
But I think Friedman knew, in any case,
that in me he was getting a different kind
of person and that he'd be a fool to try to.
make me play Tom's game.
PLAYBOY: You had a hard time being
accepted Бу both the NBC News people
and the critics, didn't you?
GUMBEL: If you believe the stories that have
come out since our success, everyone's
original attitude, even the news
sion, was “Hey, wonderful, terrific, out-
standing! We knew this would happen."
"That's bullshit, OK? On the other hand, it
was bothersome to have every article
begin with and center on “former sports-
caster Bryant Gumbel?’ Senator Bill
Bradley's stalf makes a joke about that
kind of thing. They say that 30 years from
„when Bill is President and he meets a
Soviet leader at a summit conference, they

will begin the introductions with “Former
Knicks star Bill Bradley ." That's how
I feel. And, to a certain extent, Pm sure

that Гм still viewed as an outsider, some-
one who, when this is all over, will go back
to sports.

PLAYBOY: Will you?

GUMBEL: I've never considered the possibility
of returning if it became too tough. My
pride wouldn't let me go scampering home

67

PLAYBOY

68

with my tail between my legs, saying, “It
didn't work out and please take me
back.”
PLAYBOY: Yet Jane Pauley told us that
“Bryant spits” on the idea of a conflict
between sportscasting and so-called legi
imate journalism. True?
GUMBEL: Yes. Who anointed some of these
people? Take a guy from Chicago who sits
in front of a TelePrompTer and reads news
stories for four years and someone from the
sports department who’: the field doing
interviews and reporting. and tell me
which one is the journalist. All I'm saying
to people is stop telling me about what 1
used to do, judging what I can't do, and
take a look at the damn program. Tell me if
you like it. Period!
PLAYBOY: When you took the job, vou were
part of a triumvirate with Pauley in New
York and Chris Wallace in Washing-
ton.
GUMBEL: But I think very few of us knew
that arrangement wasn't going to work
We realized there'd eventually be а shake-
down and how it would end up.
PLAYBOY: If the outcome was expected to
favor you, then why was Wallace around
at all? Do you think he was a sop to the
n

ws hicrarchy to make your trans
nto the show easicr?
GUMBEL: Let me say instead that he was
more acceptable to the news organization.
PLAYBOY: Why do you think the triumvi-
rate couldn't have worked?
GUMBEL How many answers would vou
like? You can't have three equals. To use а
sports analogy, a football team may have
four stars in the backfield, but comes t
то call the play, only one can call it—and
the same опе should do it all the timc. It
doesn't mean the quarterback is the best
athlete—just that for the good of every-
body, only one person can be in charge
You can’t run it like a democracy,
‘Television programs have to have some-
one perceived to be in charge—someone
the audience can relate to, who is their
focal point for understanding when th
begin and end and in which direction
they’ ce our show is one
for many tastes and interests, there must
be some rhyme or reason to who is doing
what. The triumvirate sent out lots of
mixed messages, and by reducing it, we
simplified things for the audience.
PLAYBOY: Arcn't you underestimating your
audience?
GUMBEL: No. We simplified because it's
tough to talk about the Today show with-
out talking about the morning itself. We
аге so linked to the vulncrabilities of that
time period. Yowre mot into your day
ready lor life's complications. You don't
want to play guessing games. But, ycah, it
was frustrating waiting lor that period to
bc over and reading about what a terrible
choice I was when the choice was finally
madc. Patience is not onc of my virtues.
And it bothered me that while we were
playing this game, there was only one per-
son on the hot scat: yours truly.

PLAYBOY: Were you nervous at first?

GUMBEL: The first day was January 4,
1982. New Year's Day, I did the Tourna-
ment of Roses Parade, then flew all day to
get to Miami. Next day, Edid the overtime
game between the Dolphins and the
Chargers. I stayed into the night, trying to
get the story of that game, then hopped a
Learjet to Cincinnati, spent the night
there and in the morning went to the sta-
dium for the Bengals game. Afterward, 1
flew to New York, studied for my
Today show on the plane and went
did it, I think I also had a special that
weekend. On Tuesday, 1 got a telegram

from Grant Tinker [then chairman of

thanking me for taking care of his
network. [Exhales]

I wasn't nervous, but [ was concerned
about what I would say the first time up.
By then, everyone had spent more words
than it was worth having an opinion about
me. So I just said, “Good morning. I'm
Bryant Gumbel, and РИ resist the urge to
say, ‘sitting in for Tom Brokaw,’ because
enough wisdom has been spent on that al-
ready. Let’s move along.”

PLAYBOY: Had you perceived the Today
show as the plum assignment it was?
GUMBEL: No. In fact, I was always sur-
prised that everyone made such a big deal
about the job. [Pauses] And now you want
to know when it finally dawned on me.
PLAYBOY: Ah, an interviewer's dream. OK,
when?

GUMBEL: January 14, 1982. We had the
show's 30th-anniversary party. Га gone to
the Tavern on the Green the night before
nd all of the Today show's prior hosts
were there. The next morning, when we
the program, I looked around the stu-
dio a couple of moments before we went оп
the air. Scated with me were Barbara
Walters, Dave Garroway, Jack Lescoulie,
Joc Garagiola, Tom Brokaw, John Chan-
cellor, et al. And when the bell rang, I was
the guy who would be talking. Га been
doing the show for only ten days. I'd gone
from doing the A.F.C. championship game
and asking guys how cold it felt down on
the field to being in charge of a very pres-
tigious group. I realized then that maybe
this was a little different.

PLAYBOY: How?

GUMBEL: I felt an enormous amount of

pride. I don't want to overstate it, but I
felt I was the holder of some sort of trust.
It was not just another broadcast and I
was not just another guy. Instead, I was
the new host in the short line of very dis-
tinguished people on a program millions
of Americans had been raised on, It kind
of made me stiffen. I got very emotional
toward the end of the show when I invited
Garroway to say goodbye as he always
had, by saying “Peace.” Ава, of course, he
died shortly thercafter.

PLAYBOY: What kind of advice, if any, did
you get from your predecessors?

GUMBEL: Garroway talked about being
consistent. Garagiola, a dear man whosc
advice I sought, told me not to ever take

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PLAYBOY

myself too seriously, to have fun with it.
Chancellor told me that whatever time 1
was getting up, I could get up later. [t was
refreshing.

PLAYBOY: There has always been a lot of
speculation about Pauley's resenting the
fact that you took over; after all, she'd
been there longer. She now says she didn't
want the top job, only “perfect equality."
Is that how you remember it?

GUMBEL: Oh, I think she probably did want
to be number one.

PLAYBOY: And should she have been?
GUMBEL: I believe the show works best
with one person perceived as being in
charge. And, having said that, I had enor-
mous confidence in my ability to assume
that position and always have had. Why?
In the past, Га always worked alone. It's
always been my show.

PLAYBOY: Is that how you made your case
for primacy?

GUMBEL I never made onc. The judgment
was made by the people in charge. I didn’t
fight it. I certainly wasn't going to back off.
and say, “Hey, guys, I don't want this.”
"That's not my make-up—or what televi-
sion's about. But at the same time, I didn't
go to them and ask for it. I didn't want
anyone thinking that here was this big
brute who was rushing past the little lady,
trying to jam his elbow into her face,
screaming, “No, no, take me, Monty!” But
I do contend that Jane had to be hurt by
how things ended up—though she never.
once displayed any animosity. A similar
thing happened to me on the old Grand-
stand show. I was devastated. So Jane may

, that made
difficult for us to grow close. And I was
extremely aware of it.

PLAYBOY: How did you handle it?

GUMBEL: I certainly tried to be as generous
as possible on the air in terms of making
sure the work load was shared. 1 made
sure her name was mentioned first, even if
I was the one speaking—you know, bad
grammar notwithstanding: “Along with
Jane Pauley, Pm Bryant Gumbel,” mean-
ing she's Bryant Gumbel, too. [Laughs] 1
don't know if my gestures advanced or
retarded the process. I do know it seems а
very distant memory. Pm proud of the
relationship we have, not only because 1
like her a lot but because it's taken a lot for
mc to reach that point,

PLAYBOY: Why?

GUMBEL: Jane once called my ideas Nean-
derthal in a magazine article. I am not
what many women would call a real liber-
ated man. Alan Alda and I wouldn't be on
the same wave length most times. Гат а
very take-charge person, not Mr. Sensitiv-
пу. Ги not portraying myself as a model
citizen, now, but to the extent that Jane
helped make me aware of that and to the
extent that 1 have altered my behavior to
accommodate that, I am very proud of it
At the same time, she's become more
natural, more fun-loving.

PLAYBOY: Do you think you've changed her?

GUMBEL: In part. Jane used to be very re-
strained and overly concerned with
whether or not the journalistic community
would view what she said and did with
approval. Now she likes herself more; she's
much more natural. I also think that sit-
ting next to this kind of unusual television
person who is not Mr, Straight, who will
tell you what he’s thinking, who is not
always real pleasant, has changed her.
Why? Because 1 have always been im-
pressed with people on television. who.
make the people they work with look good.
Its a way of judging people, In sports,
Dick Enberg worked with Al McGuire and
Billy Packer. They never looked better.
Enberg worked with Merlin Olsen and
Olsen became a star. Га like it said that
when Bryant Gumbel works with vou, you
look good. Real good. In fact, 1 feel confi-
dent that Willard Scott, Gene Shalit and
Jane have never looked better.

PLAYBOY: Docs it work both ways? Havc
you ever looked better?

GUMBEL: [Puffs on cigar, smiles] Different.
PLAYBOY: When?

GUMBEL: The world-series broadcasts.
PLAYBOY: Did you, as Jane has suggested,
test her by talking "guy talk" around the
crew to make her uncomfortable?

GUMBEL: Look, you have Jane working
with Brokaw, а nice man who їз formal
and sensitive. Then I stumble in. Um a
raucous guy who, for better or worse, has
this reputation of being a brawler in terms
of his personal dealings, who doesn't mind
screaming or telling it like it is. I'm about
as subtle as a punch in the face. None of us
had any ideas about testing Jane. In fact,
when we were behaving in said manner,
none of us thought much about her—
which was the problem.

PLAYBOY: "There was one moment on cam-
era during the show's broadcast from
Rome when the change in your relation-
ship was apparent, ri
GUMBEL: The pat-on-the-back story. Ev-
eryone since has talked about how won-
derfully brilliant and perfectly timed it
was, but it was accidental, We've met
Presidents, prime ministers, princes and
kings; and, quite frankly, after a while in
this job, it ain't no big deal. I think we
both felt that way heading for the Vatican.
But then you're in the Sistine Chapel and
a priest comes over and you're shuttled to
the Pope's private chapel and suddenly
there’s the Pope! Afterward, we realized it
was a special moment, not only for televi-
sion but personally. Jane and 1 became
oblivious to the camera, When it was all
over and the Pope was walking away, we
turned to watch him leave. There was а
camera behind us. And, hell, call it big-
brotherly or whatever, or call it something
to case my own nerves—I just kind of put
out my hand and rubbed her back, like
“It's OK." I wasn't even aware of it. It
just happened. Afterward, someone came
up and told us it looked terrific.

PLAYBOY: Would your being aware of the

camera have made any difference?
GUMBEL: Good question. If you're asking,
ive to being physical with. Jane
air, the answer is yes
PLAYBOY: You'd never touched her on cam-
era before, had you?
GUMBEL: No. No. Never. Even when she
came back from having the babies. We
have given each other hugs off camera.
And kissed—kind of “Hi, how are you?"
г "Merry Christmas” or “Have a good
vacation.”
PLAYBOY: On the cheek? Lips?
GUNBEL: Now, don't turn this into any big
exposé. [Laughs] For all of our bigoted
viewers, yes, we have on occasion kissed on
the lips. But never for more than half a sec-
ond. How's that?
PLAYBOY: Seriously, why the
about touching her on 2
GUMBEL: The black-white thing
because she is a professional woman. 1
wouldn't hug a male partner.
PLAYBOY: Characterize the other Today
show staffers. Start with Willard Scott.
GUMBEL: Doing the weather is only
incidental to him. There are people who
watch this show just for him, 1 try never to
lose sight of that. I consider Willard a
friend. There's never been an occasion
when Г didn't like him—though I may
have been confused by him. And, if I may
be so immodest, Willard has never been
showcased better than he has been
through his association with me. d
PLAYBOY: Why?
GUMBEL: Because I don't have a problem
being his straight man when he requires it.
Also, we've made a concerted effort to
make sure that he’s more aware of the
entire program and that he’s part of it—
not just as if he were the dancing bear we
haul out for two minutes every half hour
and then throw off to the side.
PLAYBOY: What about Gene Shalit?
GUNBEL: He's a stabilizing force, our link
with the past. He has made те feel like а
member of the group. 1 don't treat him
like the eccentric uncle who can only talk.
about movies. In fact, of all the people
here, he is the one I depend on most. If T
have one complaint, it’s that he gets too
many days off. He’s got the best contract
Гуе ever heard of: off weekends and Mon-
day and Friday. Not bad.
PLAYBOY: Do you usually agree with his
movie reviews?
GUMBEL: Generally not. Gene likes Woody
Allen and I don’t. He likes quict movies
and I don't. I lots of action, albeit with
some degree of intelligence; he doesn’t. We
rarely agree. [Looks out window] Coming
down the stairs, in pink.
PLAYBOY: Earlier, we said we'd get around
to talking about what people have said
about you. The first adjective on our list is
perfectionist.
GUMBEL: Guilty, But more so where Bryant
Gumbel is concerned than about anyone
else. However, it's not so all-pervasive that
I rush out to a bar when perfection hasn't
been achieved that day.

PLAYBOY: Arrogant.

GUMBEL: Television is a very subjective
business. If someone likes you, he views
you as enormously self-confident. If he
docsn't, you're arrogant. In a business
where there aren't a lot of black faces, es-
pecially successful ones, someone not too
thrilled with that color can easily charge
one with arrogance. You'd be surprised at
the letters I get that say, “I’m really
aggravated. 1 had grown to like you and
thought you were a very nice boy until you
had the nerve to. .. " Notice the oper-
ative statement

PLAYBOY: What about explosive temper
You once said, “I have a low boiling po
I used to smash walls. Now I throw cups.
Still true?

GUMBEL: I did smash walls. But that's very
overblown as a subject of discussion, and it
tends to be directed more at myself than.
anyone elsc. I haven't thrown a cup in a
long time—and never at anybody. Really.
This sounds as though when someone
brings me bad news, I blow up, and as he
races from the oflice, a glass sails just past
his head
PLAYBOY:
from?
GUMBEL: I just wanted so badly to do well.
So ИТ or someone else made a mistake that
didn't contribute to that goal, I didn't like
it. But you'd still be hard pressed to find
someone who'll say Гус been a bully. Pm
not a browbeater. I certainly never belittle
anyonc in public.

PLAYBOY: What gets you angry on the air?
GUMBEL: Any number of apologists for,
say, the South African regime. 1 may find
the individual likable, but the arguments
advanced anger me. I also get angry talk
ing with people who are less interested
solving problems than in job justification,
who are blatantly lying to you and both
you and they know it.

PLAYBOY: Do you bust them publicly?
GUMBEL: The problem is that the audicnce
doesn’t perceive it as a fair fight. They sec
me as the guy with all the weapons, and
fighting back is dirty pool. Guests are
allowed to scream. I'm not. They're
allowed to be personal with me, accusato-
ry. If John Smith is on the show, he can
refer to me as Bryant. To me, he’s always
Mr. Smith.

PLAYBOY: How important is it for you to Бе
liked?

(is

Where did that anger come

A lot. Anyone who tells you it's
not is a liar. Гиз tougher than most. I've
been told I have a pretty hard shell. Guys
I used to go to school with called me Gum
Ball. But I don't need it
PLAYBOY: The hard shell?
verybody liking me. Га lov
the whole goddamn world liked me, but it
ain't gonna happen. Ain't gonna happen.
1 know I don't make it easy on people, in
the sense that Im not going to change ог
dance to their tune or back off from th
n order for them to like me. Lam the way
that I am. I didn't come on this show to

make friends. For that, 1 go to thc Y. My
job is to do my job—and if anyone's got a
problem with that, he can adapt to me
PLAYBOY: How tight is your emotional
leash?

GUMBEL: A lot looser than Pd
I'm very emotional.
PLAYBOY: Does it show on the air?

GUMBEL: Ycah. And it upsets me that 1
don't hide it that well. Sometimes it makes
it hard to do my job. I don't take a lot of
pride in having my voice waver or fighting
not to hyperventilate when I have to say
something like “Не was a wonderful man
and he shall be missed." I’ve always
wanted to be the broadcaster with a firm
voice and a steady hand. 1 never could
PLAYBOY: How about the accusation that
you're lacking in warmth?

GUMBEL: It can happen. It's not that I di
like many people. It's just that I don't like
many people. There's a difference. Pm not
cager to be as open as some would have me
be with them.

PLAYBOY: How do you feel around someone
who is really open?

GUMBEL: Uncomfortable. I think, Why are

c it to be.

"I wonder why I should.
bust my hump to make
jerks look terrific."

you telling me this? It's like the old line
“Here's a dime. Go call someone who
gives a damn." Surrounding myself with a
lot of people who can generate an awful lot
of conversation is not for me. Га rather sit
alonc in a room with a pad and a pen and
scribble—make notes, make lists, write
thoughts, listen to music, read.

PLAYBOY: We assume you're not much for
i ics, then.

Right. I do love to entertain but
on a small basis, with people I really like.
PLAYBOY: How docs this attitude coexist
with your liking to get in front of the
nera five days a week to reach millions
of people? That's a big party.

GUMBEL: Yeah, but Pm limited in what I
have to say in terms of time and subject—
and I don't have to talk back to you. It's
not a call-in show. Also important, when
Pm working this side of the camera, 1
don't think about how many people are
out there. I work for an audience of
1,000,000 the same way as for 100,000,000.
It’s always one to one.
PLAYBOY: How about ch
obsessive?

GUMBEL: Give me a definition,

PLAYBOY: When you makc notes for an
interview, you key your pen color to a
guest's occupation. Your socks and tie
match,

GUMBEL: Ah. On the first, I plead guilty.
I'm a very organized person and I try to

es that you're

foresee ways of maintaining that. The pens
thing was odd—though Pm talking ink
color, not exterior. If we had an economist,
1 would use green. Rock star, purple.
Domestic issue, brown, Communism, red.
That lasted only a couple of months. I re-
alized there was too much information
crossover to make sensc of. And if match-
ing clothing is obsessive, OK. There's
nothing horribly bad about wanting your
cuff links to match your attire, your socks
to go with your suit, your belt with your

shoes. Am I supposed to look like a slob?
PLAYBOY: What are your strengths as an
interviewer?

GUMEEL: Га have to preface this by sayi
that I think people are the worst judges of
themselves. [Pauses] E listen. Pm curious.
And I'm not overly concerned with trying
to show how bright I am. Instead, Pm
more concerned with making sure that the
audience understands what the hell we're
talking about.

PLAYBOY: What about weaknesses?
GUMBEL: Some people claim, with justifica-
tion, that they can sec my feelings easily in
my eyes, hand movements, facial expres-
sions and mannerisms. If I had my
druthers, Га choose not to let them show.
PLAYBOY: Friedman has said that your
wcakest moments are when, in the middle
of a bad interview, you don't go out of
your way to make it better.

GUMBEL: There are two ways of looking at
that. Anyone can interview a grcat gucst.
In Muhammad Ali's heyday, all you had
to do was say hello. Talented people are
those who can take 50-50 guests and make
them great. I don't consciously avoid
going the extra mile. I just know when I sit
down what the vibes are. I'm wi
help if the vibe is fright or uncertainty ог
nsecurity. But when 1 feel “I hate this;
TV is stupid and so are you," it's not
worth my time. I wonder why I should
bust my hump to make jerks look terrific.
Tf they want to come on and look at their
fingemails, why try to make them seem
more human?

PLAYBOY: Any spectacular misfire
GUMEEI: Jennifer Beals, Kristy McNichol,
Rod Stewart. A lot of bad ones. There's an
m in this business that if the interview.
goes poorly, it's your fault. If it goes well,
it’s because the guest is good. I believe
that, so I’m reluctant to say those guests
stank, though there are occasions when
someone has nothing to say and says it
poorly.

PLAYBOY: Your best moment is generally
considered to be your confronting the
Soviet generals you interviewed when the
Today show visited the U.S.S.R

GUMBEL: lt was extremely significant. If.
one were to be really immodest, one could
say it got arms talks going again—but less
through Bryant Gumbel’s inventiveness
than through an accident of timing.
PLAYBOY: How did you prepare for that

2

Us the interview 1 prepared most
ife. I stayed in my room at the

71

PLAYROY

72

Hotel Rossiya the entire weckend. My
producers, writers and researchers sat
around playing whatever part they
wanted, be it American or Soviet, in dis-
cussing each issue. ГА voice a question,
and whatever they'd say, Га try to take
the alternative. It worked

PLAYBOY: Did you know you had a scoop
when onc of the officials said that foreign
minister Gromyko would be willing to
resume the SALT talks?

GUMBEL: It did not set off a lightning
bolt—in part because, at the time, I was
engaged in simultancous translation,
watching two people, trying to maintain
eye contact and hearing Russian in one ear
and, five seconds later, English in the
other. It didn't allow much timc for per-
sonal celebrations. But, sure, we realized
what we had immediately, even though it
was part of a longer stat
PLAYBOY: Pauley was watcl
York studio with Henry Kissinger. She
says he reacted to your coup with some
disgust, saying, "Bryant Gumbel doesn’t
know SALT from pepper.”

GUMBEL: Henry would have reason not to
look fondly upon that kind of venture. It
gives lomats in foreign countries an
opportunity to bypass the normal chan-
nels. The Soviets had a well-thought-out
plan. They decided they couldn’t talk to
our authorities, so they tied to take their
case directly to the American people. I’m
not so arrogant as to think the Soviets said
what they did under sharpened, persistent
questioning from me. On the other hand,
we did go there and seek the interview on
our own initiative. Should we take credit?
Yeah, But let's keep it in perspective.
PLAYBOY: How about some short takes on
political leaders you've interviewed? One
we've interviewed, too, is Jimmy Carter.
What did you think of him?

GUMBEL: Strange. Strange. When his first
book came out, we spent hours going over
his life. Sometimes we argued; sometimes
it was sad. And when it was all over, as I
often do with people—knowns or un-
knowns—I asked him to autograph the
book. I don't think you can tell an awful
lot from an inscription, but this case was
an exception. He signed, “To Bryant, with
best wishes. Jimmy Carter.” It embodied
the man. Not a lot of imagination, сег-
tainly no anger. Just there. Kind of sad.
PLAYBOY: Mario Cuomo?

GUMBEL: I like him because he's part jock-
strap and part street kid. That's me on
both counts. We've done several inter-
views and recently spent some time on
Governors Island. His wonderful speaking
ity is obvious. He's also fair. I can
identily with his approach to things.

Jould he be President?

GUMBEL: Doi
swer. He could certainly win my vote
that's the question.
PLAYBOY: Ed Koch?

GUMBEL: Why do I fecl uncomfortable with
Ed Koch? A little too much effort for me. A
little too much chutzpah. A little too much

`t know if Pm qualified to an-

justification for anybody. A little too frank
for his own good. A little too undiplomatic
10 be called frank. A little too much, too
loud, too bold.

PLAYBOY: Gerald Ford?

GUMBEL: I enjoy him. We've played golf on
several occasions. As an interview subject,
he's very direct. But I think there's a part
of me that wants never to forgive him for
pardoning Richard Nixon.

PLAYBOY: You've interviewed Nixon. How
did you land that one?

GUMBEL: Не had apparently said that if he
ever had the opportunity, he'd really like
to do something with me. I guess that
came from my sports associati
PLAYBOY: What kind of subject was hc?
GUMBEL: Не was quite good. I don't
applaud either the man ог what he did
while in office, but Га find it difficult to
argue with his political astuteness. George
McGovern said something on our show
that amazed. me, though in retrospect, it
doesn't sound bad. He said, “The real
shame of Watergate was that it ruined
what could have bcen a great Presidency."
Coming from McGovern, that's a cons
erable statement.

PLAYBOY: You seemed to stay away [rom
Watergate in your interview with Nixon.
GUMBEL: No. It’s not that I didn't want to
discuss it, but it had been gone over ad
infinitum.

PLAYBOY: How did Nixon treat you?
GUMBEL: I’m not sure why, but with a de-
grec of, if not fondness, then respect.
Maybe curiosity about me, because after-
ward, I wound up being invited to his
house for dinner.

PLAYBOY: Was it a night to remember?
GUMBEL: Different. Strange. A gathering of
men like Harrison Salisbury, Alexander
Haig. I was curious, because I was aware
that Га be among what Nixon asa
close circle. I was at once flattered, be-
cause whatever I thought of the man—
and youre talking with a guy who
probably isn’t exactly welcome at Republi-
can or conservative gatherings, and less
because of color than because of a poles-
apart divergence of interests—he is а for-
mer President. On the other hand, I didn't
want to go and discover it was a gathering
of the convicted Watergate people.
PLAYBOY: What did you talk about?
GUMBEL: Wc wound up discussing how
each of us had come to meet Nixon and
what we thought of him.
PLAYBOY: Did you tell hii
GUMBEL: I didn't pull a lot of punches. 1
that if someone had told me 12 years
carlier that Га be at this dinner, I would
have considered him certifiable.
much of my generation, Nixon was the
embodiment of evil. He was all that we
disliked about the world. I told him that i
was refreshing to realize at a later point in
life that not everything was black and
white—sometimes a person can be dif-
ferent from his policy. I don't think I was
being naive, thous PL willing to
have him as my best buddy—or excuse

jew.

?

lo meand

Watergate. But he was also nota guy with
horns on his head and fire coming out of
his mouth, cager to pick my pockets.
PLAYBOY: What was Nixon's reaction?
GUMBEL: I honestly don't recall. [Looks out
the window again] By the street sign. It's
the same woman we saw carlier.

PLAYBOY: Good memory. Looks a little like
Joan Collins from the back.
GUMBEL: Much younger.
PLAYBOY: Haven't you had |
the show several times?

: 1 prefer Jackie. When we
Joan, she demanded that there be cham-
pagne and Beluga caviar. Sorry, that gets
me right there. Even so, we've had some
very good exchanges. But the last time she
was on, when we didn't seem to see eye to
eye or get along, I was disappointed that
she didn't tell me, “Hey, that wasn't fair”
or, "I'm never coming back here again” or
whatever. Instead, she smiled, gave me а
kiss and left. Then she threw a fit in the
hall. But it doesn't change my affection for
her sister, who I think is charming and the
talented member of the family.

PLAYBOY: Let's talk about your family. Your
childhood was not typical for blacks.
GUMBEL: Right. I grew up in Hyde Park,
which was at the time like an island in the
city of Chicago. It was an experimental
community near the university, at least in
terms of integration. Everyone was profes-
sional and there was a high priority on.
education. It was once characterized as a
community where, after dinner, people
didn't watch / Love Lucy. They read
Sartre. At my grade school, Saint Thomas
the Apostle, we had students from every
country you could imagine. And all had
great pride in what they were.

PLAYBOY: Your father was a respected
judge. How do you best remember him?
GUMBEL: Hc was a smart and good man.
We were very close. He introduced me to
sports. He set an example in education
and accomplishment. He also had a won-
derful sense of perspective about every-
thing. He recognized how important his
job was, yet he kept it in its place.
PLAYBOY: Was your brother, Greg, who
also went on to become a broadcaster, as
close to him?

GUMBEL: If I had to guess, Га say I don't
think so. But perhaps I’m being selfish. In
any case, we never vied for Dad's auen-
tion. My views of Greg had more to do
with my own feelings of who I was and
how I was being perceived than anything

Collins on.

that had to do with my dad.
PLAYBOY: Who were you?
GUMBEL: This little smartass kid who was

semibright and knew it—but who, I was
led to believe, was not very attractive. I
grew up with a strong family awareness of
being Creole—a combination of French
and black, New Orleans-born. Most Cre-
oles had light skin, straight hair,
near-Caucasian features. So when I was
young, it was not "in" to look black.
PLAYBOY: Did you look black?

GUMBEL: By my family’s standards, I

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PLAYBOY

74

looked more black than Creole. | was
blacker than Greg, my mom and my dad.
In fact, my dad used to say that when he
started calling on my mom, my grandfa-
ther turned him away becausc he was too
dark. My point is that, at the time, the
whiter you looked, the better. Only in the
Sixties did things change. But until then, 1
bought the program. Especially since I
had 18,000,000 cousins around at family
atherings and they all had lighter skin,
ighter eyes, straighter hair and different
noses. І can even remember relatives’
laughing because they were amazed 1 had
any hair left with my mother brushing it
so, hoping to straighten it out. I began to
think 1 wasn't so good-looking. In retro-
spect, it scems funny and horribly petty.
But of such things are lifetime memories
made. I didn’t have a lot of social
self-confidence, a lot of dates or a lot of
friends. Looks was not an area in which I
was going to be able to compete.

PLAYBOY: Did you keep that sense of in-
feriority at Bates College?

GUMBEL: | arrived at college when black
pride was on the rise. I could look at my-
self in the mirror, see a black person and
think I was OK—not How come my skin’s
black? Feeling that way, I found a number
of young ladies willing to confirm my idea
that I wasn't unattractive.

PLAYBOY: You eventually martied a black
woman, June Baranco. But at Bates, did
you date black girls or white ones?
GUMBEL: White. There were four black stu-
dents out of about 900.

PLAYBOY: How did you feel about dating
white women?

GUMBEL: I never thought it unusual. Inter-
racial marriages were common in Hyde
Park.

PLAYBOY: How did the parents react when
you dated a local girl?

GUMBEL: If you went out with a townie,
you didn’t go to her house. My white
friends acted the same way. My two white
roommates never met a town irl’s par-
ents. I’m not horribly proud of it, if only
because of what it says about the relation-
ship between town folks and college kids.
PLAYBOY: We get it: Breaking Away.
GUMBEL: Morc like An Officer and a Gentle-
man.

PLAYBOY: As opposed to Guess Who's Com-
ing to Dinner?

GUMBEL: [Laughs] That's exactly right.
PLAYBOY: Did you come of age sexually in
college?

GUMBEL I think the discreet thing to say—
as a gentleman—is “None of your damn
business.” [Laughs]

PLAYBOY: Come on, wasn't it the Sixties?
Did you leave college
ing as though you'd missed somcthing?
GUMBEL: I don't know many guys who left
college as virgins. Is my mother going to
rcad this?

PLAYBOY: It'll be toward the back

GUMBEL: [Laughs] | didn’t go to college а
virgin. Enough on that.

PLAYBOY: What about drugs in school?

GUMBEL: I smoked some grass, took most
of what was available—not LSD—but I
wasn't a druggie who needed something in
order to face the day or enjoy himself. I
gave it up a long time ago, when 1 was
unemployed for the first timc. Couldn't
айога it and never went back, I used to
drink a lot in college, though—more so
than I'm proud of. 1 mean an awful lot.
Most guys in college get wasted on the
weekends. I got wasted six, seven days a
week. It was just social, but I never drank
until I got to college. My dad had taken
the glamor off it сапу by telling Greg and
me that if we wanted to drink at home, it
was OK.
PLAYBOY:
father?
GUMBEL: I try to. He is and has always
been the only idol I’ve ever had. If it’s pos-
sible for somebody to carry on what
amounts to a 22-year love affair with his
dad, that’s what I did.

PLAYBOY: It’s been suggested that your
drive for success, your perfectionism, is
based on your trying to live up to your
father’s example, and that because he died
before your carcer began, you've essen-
tially been chasing a ghost. Is that fair?
GUMBEL: І don't buy it. I try to do as well
as I can because of values instilled in me.
But chasing a ghost? [Pauses] My daddy
was never the kind of guy who was never
satisfied with what I did. He was only sat-
isfied or dissatisfied with the effort
expended. We had to perform to our
capacity. So il my daddy drives me—as
everyone says—then it’s only in terms of
my memory that he never let me do any-
thing less than as well as I could. I like
competing. I like winning. But that’s a
whole lot different from chasing some
unscen force.

[A long pause, looks out window] Vll be
honest with you. Ст getting a better han-
dle on it now. Like most guys, I used to be
real concerned with proving things—to
the public, co-workers, competitors,
myself. Maybe it's а sign of maturity, but I
think those people now know who I am.
And Гуе reached the point where I like
myself a lot. I’m not totally satisfied, but I
don't, on a daily basis, have to show myself
a challenge I can answer in order to like
myself, I still ask a lot of myself, but I
don't grade as harshly.

PLAYBOY: How did you first get involved in
sports journalism?

GUMBEL: I was unemployed and alone in
New York, having quit my job selling
paper cartons. So I took stock of what I
thought I could do. I'd always been fairly
decent at words and I thought I knew
sports. So I tried to interest magazines in
my writing for them. I went through Writ-
er's Market with a fine-tooth comb, wrote
articles, sent them in, got rejections.

One place was Black Sports. I met a guy
who introduced me to the publisher. I be-
came a stall writer, then began writing
almost the entire magazine under a zillion
names. So the publisher made me editor,

Do you still emulate your

since I was doing it all, anyway

PLAYBOY: And that led you to audition for
KNBC in Burbank. Was sports conscious-
ly chosen as your vehicle to get on tele
sion?

GUMBEL: No. I wish I had been that smart.
Television was never part of the plan. I
had left Black Sports and was scarching for.
something else. I interviewed at the Balti-
more Sun and The Boston Globe. ГА also
been approached to do a tape audition at
NBC. I didn't think much of the experi-
ence. The tape was sent west, but by the
time I was talking to the newspapers, it
had long since passed from my memory.
The Boston Globe had promised to get back
to me. Then, on April 10, 1972, a friend of
the family called, crying, and said, “Your
father's dead.” I put the phone down, and
a few minutes later, The Boston Globe
called with favorable news. I told them
about my dad and asked for a couple of
weeks. I went to Chicago, buried my dad,
came home and got a call from КМВС in
Burbank, saying they liked my tape and
wanted mc to fly out for another audition.
It was my first time west of the Missis-
sippi. To make a long story short, I got the
job. It paid $21,500. I just thought, Boy oh
boy oh boy.

PLAYBOY: And your climb at KNBC was
rapid.

GUNBEL: I began as a weekend sportscaster
in 1972, and soon I started doing some
network things. When Ross Porter left to
cover Dodgers games, I was made sports
director.

PLAYBOY: Why didn't you do play by play?
GUMBEL: I knew I had a voice that would
get too excited and sound too high. But it
was a time when everyone thought you
had to do it in order to become a star. I re-
alized my strength was in being able to
host an event, to interview people, to
communicate information clearly in short
sequences, to make an entire program
watchable.

PLAYBOY: How did you get the network’s
attention?

GUMBEL: Two very lucky opportunities that
I did real well with. In 1973 or 1974, I had.
gone to Oakland to report for our local
broadcast on the world series between the
A's and the Dodgers. To do it, 1 had to use
network cameras and facilities following
the game. The crews weren't exactly grate-
ful for my keeping them there late at night.
But I did the broadcasts flawlessly—while
network people were watching. They
could put it in their memory bank.

"Then, in 1975, the N.C.A.A. champion-
ships happened to be in San Diego, and
John Wooden happened to announce his
retirement after the final game. So I was
called upon to go down there, use network
cameras and do a minute-and-a-half
commentary on what it all meant. Which
means you've got to think of it right off the
top of your head. Again, the network peo-
ple in the truck were watching as I jumped
out in front of the cameras and did it. This
time they went. “Hey, wait a minute, Who

is this kid?" So I was fortunate. I could
have stumbled, had bad days. I was fortu-
nate and good enough to take advantage of
those opportunities. And that's it.
PLAYBOY: You then got to host Crandstand,
which became known as N.F.L. '78. But
haven't you also done a show called Games
People Play?

GUMBEL: Yeah. The show is not high on my
résumé. It was а bunch of stupid games
that guys who sit around at a jock party
might do: Who is the strongest wrist wres-
tler? Who can knock over the most bottles?
Who can drink the most? In retrospect,
the only terrible harm Games People Play
did was to introduce Mr. T to the world.
He was involved in the world's-toughest-
bouncer competition. "That it introduced
that bufioon to the world, I’m ashamed of.
PLAYBOY: Then why did you do it?
GUMBEL: We all agreed that a prime-time
program with Bryant Gumbel singing and
dancing would be foolish. We had to use
sports as a base. What evolved was a con-
tract that called for me to continue doing
all my sports news, as host, to contribute
thrice-weekly reports to the Today show
and to host Games People Play. Then 1 had
shows in all three arcas. At the time,
I'd already quit my Los Angeles stuff and
had moved to New York.

PLAYBOY: While we're on the subject of
sports, let's try this. You love baseball. If
we give you some names of prominent in-
terviewers, talk-show hosts and newsper-
sons, how about staffing an imaginary
baseball team? Position them, explain
your choices and throw in a quick personal
analysis. You game?

GUMBEL: [Laughs] That's interesting. OK.
PLAYBOY: Larry King.

GUMBEL: Center field. He free-lances and
covers a lot of ground. But I don't believe
him when he says he does no preparation
for his guests. If so, he can do some sleight
of hand unknown to me or anyone else in
this business.

PLAYBOY: Ted Koppel.

GUMBEL: Shortstop, because you have to
be able to go to your left and right. You
have to be quick and durable. It’s prob-
ably the toughest position to play. He's
reached the point where his press and
reputation are so good that he's passed
beyond objective judgment. That is, his

work so solid that the audience's
objectivity —is gone. Of course,
Johnny Carson still outpoints him.

PLAYBOY: OK, Carson.

GUMBEL: First base, because you field
everybody clsc's bad hops, make up for
everybody else's mistakes—and they don’t
ask you to be spectacular, just steady. I
would lead the standing ovation for any-
body who could, for 25 years, go out there
and dominate as he does.

PLAYBOY: David Letterman,

GUMBEL: You want me to be serious?
PLAYBOY: Yes.

GUMBEL: I don’t think David does inter-
views. I'm not sure he deserves to be on
this team. We always used to take the kid

we didn’t care for much, or the one who
was a bit of an oddball, and stick him in
right field. But I also need someone in
right who has a strong arm—and I'm not
sure of that with Letterman.

PLAYBOY: Could your attitude have to do
with the feud you have been having since
he interrupted one of your broadcasts?
And if so, why can’t you take it as a joke?
GUMBEL: Because it wasn't even close to
being funny. I thought it sophomoric. I
like a joke as much as the next guy, but
Letterman had no idea what we were
involved in. It could have been something
much more serious. I'd never do anything
jurious to his program, because 1 have a
lot more respect for him. The fact that
he'd do that to me tells me something.
PLAYBOY: Cian this situation be cleared up?
GUMBEL: The adult thing would be for him
to say, "Pm sorry.” Not publicly. He
doesn’t have to do a mea culpa in front of
millions. A private “Hey, I didn’t mean to
screw it up. Jeez, I’m sorry you're out of
joint about it.” But that’s never happened.
I don’t dislike him or wish him ill. [ mean,
the guy's funny, brilliant, successful. I
applaud him. All I want is an apolog
Until then, I choose not to be a guest
his show.

PLAYBOY: You mean he’s asked you to do
his show since the incident?

GUNBEL: Yes. I've declined.

PLAYBOY: Why not lighten up? He has fun
talking about all the money NBC makes
paying for your suits; and on his
"Thanksgiving Film Festival, a marquee
behind him read

GUMBEL: BRYANT: THE MUSICAL. I hear this
stuf from time to time. I don't mind being
the butt of his jokes. Look, we ran into
cach other recently. He said, "Hey, con-
gratulations on your success." l said,
“Thanks. Um glad things are going well
for you.” He said, “Thanks. Hey, you re-
alize all this other stuff is just wrestling.” I
said, ^Well, you may see it that way, but
we really ought to talk.”

PLAYBOY: Havc you һсаг from him sincc
then?

GUNBEL: No. That's finc. He's got other
things to do.

PLAYBOY: OK. Letterman is possible in
right ficld. How about Hartman?
GUMBEL: Haven't seen him play much,
but. . . gregarious, likes to talk. Probably
the catcher, because you get beat up a lot
back there, too—and he took his licks
early on but stayed durable, Semi-anony-
mous, always with the mask on and always
holding a conversation with thc battcr.
PLAYBOY: Bryant Gumbel.

GUMBEL: [Whistles] Probably at third. All
you necd is a big chest and a strong arm.
"The analogy is a lot of guts and a fast
mouth—or a fast mind. I could probabl
handle that. The hot corner. Ron Santo.
PLAYBOY: Dan Rather.

GUNBEL: Pitcher. Robin Roberts type. Tom
Seaver type. Solid citizen. Strong right-
hander. Send him out and don't even
worry about it. Hell always be there.

Good counterbalance on the staff. But as
an interviewer, he makes me uncomfort-
able, because he's very intense—and
that's not me. I always wonder why his
eyes don't blink.

PLAYBOY: Mike Wallace.

GUMBEL: Ah. My ace reliever. Га send him
in at every tough situation. Bases loaded,
nobody out? I'd go to Wallace, He gets out
right-handers and left-handers. Real good
fast ball. Deceptive breaking stuff. Can
throw a trick pitch. Been around. Gets
warm in a hurry. You can call on him day
after day.

PLAYBOY: Barbara Walters.

GUMBEL: Second base. Reminds me a lot of
Tito Fuentes of the Giants. Always wore a
lot of gold chains. Did everything with
flair. Kind of a hot dog. I liked Tito.
"Thats Barbara. Smaller than the other
guys, but, damn it, size isn't going to be a
factor, so she gets in there and mixes it
up—and gets a surprising number of hits.
She's competing in a league where a lot of
people didn't think she could even play
and she's doing all right —and she's in the
starting line-up.

PLAYBOY: Jane Pauley.

GUMEEL: Janc's my third starting pitcher.
She's always on my stall and in the rota-
tion and may even be as intense as my big
right-hander—though certainly not as
wacky as my left-hander. I can send her
out confident of getting a good, strong.
game. ГИ always be in the ball game with
her, and she's good to have around the
clubhousc.

PLAYBOY: We need a left fielder.

GUMBEL: Give me names.

PLAYBOY: Roger Mudd? Connie Chung?
GUMBEL: Not Chung. She's on the bench.
It would be Mudd. Roger knows his way
around the ball parks; he's been in every
one in the league. He's a steadying influ-
ence on the club. Maybe he doesn't have
the power he used to, but he'll occasion-
ally hit a dinger. He won't embarrass me
in left field.

PLAYBOY: Dick Cavett.

GUMBEL: Bat boy. There are too many sen-
tences that include I. “Woody and I.” He
wouldn't be on the team,

PLAYBOY: Linda Ellerbee.

GUMBEL: She'd probably prefer to go off
and start her own women's team.
PLAYBOY: What's your problem with her?
GUMBEL: I don't mean to malign her. I've
just read some things she's said that seem
to indicate that she believes that women
are the only worthwhile people in this
business. 1 don't even think my attitude
here is negative. And, no, she's never said
a bad word about me.

PLAYBOY: Howard Cosell.

GUMBEL: This may seem strange, but Pd
make him the PR guy. He's what I like in
He's combative. He doesn't
yers take all the crap. Maybe
he should be the manager—the benevo-
lent kind who doesn't necessarily meddle
with the guys. He'll attract the attention
and take the heat and answer the boss, the.

75

PLAYBOY

press, the critics. And he used to be a great
ballplayer in his time.

I always said when I was in sports that
with every check I cashed, I should say
thank you to Howard. He raised the visi-
bility of the business enormously. He was
willing to talk about things that weren't
necessarily popular. He was willing to see
beyond the sport of the game.

PLAYBOY: We still have Brokaw

GUMBEL: All my spots are full. Hmm. Tom
is my utility man. Not that he’s on the
bench, but he’s always the first guy off the
bench. I can plav him anywhere. He’s my
Bob Baylor, my Lee Lacey. He's a Jack-of-
all-trades—the only thing I don't ask him
todo is pitch, but he doesn’t mind taking a
beating if I give him the catcher’s spot.
Tom's been hurt in some instances
because he's good-looking and young. Too
many people translate that to mean pretty
boy. That's not truc. Tom’s track record is
as good as, and in some cases better than,
Dan Rather's. He's flat-out solid.
PLAYBOY: Since we've mentioned two net-
work anchor men, how about the third,
Peter Jennings?

GUMBEL: Not on my club. Docsn't really fit
in. He thinks maybe he should be on the
all-star team and skip the ball games. It's
not for lack of talent, but some think
they're better than they are and so а team.
15 better off without them.

PLAYBOY: Sam Donaldson.

GUMBEL: Only onc position for Sam: cheer-
leader. He's got the only mouth for it.
[Laughs] 1 like Sam. I shouldn't say that.
Гуе never met him, first off, but I like him
because, in a. press corps that is all too
passive in this Administration, he is ever-
willing to jump forward.

PLAYBOY: With apologies to those not men-
tioned, we'll throw out one last name: Ed
Bradley.

GUMBEL: Гус got only so many positions. If
1 could platoon, I'd. pair him with Larry
King in center. Ed covers a lot of ground
and can do lots for me. I enjoy watching
him interview, because he does his home-
work. He's straightforward—and 1 know
that away from the camera, he’s got a lot of
personality.

PLAYBOY: Do you two ever talk about being
highly visible black newsmen?

GUMBEL: No. But, then, Гуе never talked
with Tom Brokaw about being guys on the
air as opposed to women.

PLAYBOY: You've said that you feel color-
less. Exactly what did you mean?

GUMBEL: I meant that black had stopped
being the primary adjective used to de-
scribe me.

PLAYBOY: Yet you've been criticized for
being too white. People have said y
the least black black person they k
and that’s not entirely complimentary
GUMBEL: That's not my problem. I do get
letters that say, “You're untypically black
You dress nicely, talk nicely, look nice.”
But most of the black people 1 know
look like me, talk like me, dress like me.

The problem is more i
ception than in mc.
PLAYBOY: Do thc impli:
ters insult you?

people's per-

of those let-

GUMBEL: Yeah, but in the grand scale of

things, it's minor. The more typical letter
says, “I used to like you, ctc., until you
said such and such.” In other words, I was
the fair-haired boy until I pissed them off
Now Em like every other black who's come
down the pike. Well, that’s too damn bad.
PLAYBOY: Has your popularity positively
affected the hiring of blacks on TV?
GUMBEL: I’m reluctant to try to transfer
anything that happens to Bryant Gumbel
to a wider sphere. Га love to believe it’s
true, though. In great part, UV has failed
to increase racial sensitivities in a positive
fashion. 105 done little to bridge the вар
between black and white. And it's less
what ТУ has done than what it hasn't. It
hasn't put enough blacks in high-visibility
positions, at decision-making levels. Those
failures, however intangible, can't be ig-
nored. Тоо often, the only stories you see.
on blacks are about poverty. That rein-
forces stereotypes and does not advance.
racial harmony.

PLAYBOY: What do you sce yourself doing
after you're through with the Today show?
GUMBEL: You'll laugh, but Га love to be a
writer. Where can I go? There aren't a lot
of rungs above on the ladder, and I don't
say that arrogantly. I always tell myself to
work up a great answer to that question,
because I think I sound like a comedian
when it’s asked. But the answer has never
occurred to, me, and I don't think its
important. One day, I will get up in the
morning, put my feet on the floor, look at
the clock and say, “This is insane. 1 по
longer want to do this." Hmm. If'somcone
asked me if, at the end of my contract, Га
like to be the new commissioner of ba
ball, that would be attractive. But no one's
offering. [Stops, looks out window] Check it
out at one o'clock.

PLAYBOY: Cute. By the way, what docs your
wife say about all this girl

watching? Do

you do this in her presence
GUMBEL: Oh, sure. But I would never say
anything. Al McGuire once said that one
of the rules of marriage he always followed
was never commenting on another woman
in his wife's presence. Not a bad rule.
PLAYBOY: But she sees your eyes wander?

GUMBEL: I think she'd have to. Don't
everybody's?

PLAYBOY: What are your rules for mar-
riage?

GUMBEL: The same as lor most other
things: Don't make a rule until a problem
arises. Then make sure it never happens
again. June and I think alike on important
things

PLAYBOY: All right, winding things up, can.
you describe yourself in a five-item list, in.
order of importance?
GUMBEL: Hınm. Individual. Family man.
ГУ personality. Friend. Golter.

PLAYBOY: We know golf is almost your reli-

gion, You practice it pretty seriously
What's thc attraction?

GUMBEL: The bottom line is the independ-
єпсє, and I mean that in every sense. You're
out there and can’t be bothered. You can’t
be reached. Everything you do, you con-
trol It's not a question of losing be-
cause your opponent hit the net or you
were blinded by the sun. It’s not that the
pitcher was too tough or ifthe fence hadn't
been so far away, the ball would have gone
over instead of being caught. None of that
comes into account. You hit the ball down.
the middle of the fairway because you did
it. No one else shares in it. If it goes out of
bounds, no one else is to blame. The
course you're playing docsn't fight back, It
can't be intimidated. All it says to you is
“Nice shot. Hit " And any
mistake you make you can't quickly undo.
There's no such thing as taking a stroke
back. It's there forever. Some swings are
absolutely perfect. Some hit the ball only
two feet. Why did one work and the other
not? You weren’t concentrating. Plain and
simple. So the battle becomes, every time,
can you concentrate to your fullest and get
out every ounce of your ability at that
moment? And can you do it again and
again over 18 holes?

PLAYBOY: Sounds like a metaphor for your.
life. Are you as passionate about the Today
show?

GUMBEL: At onc minute to seven cvery
morning, 1 get passionate about it. Yeah. 1
really do. I am aware that in 60 seconds, it
goes on and I am the guy in charge. That's
something to get passionate about.
PLAYBOY: What would you ask yourself if
you were a guest on the Today show?
GUMBEL: Hmm. "Why are you here, Mr.
Gumbel?”

PLAYBOY: Not good enough.

1 must be honest. This whole
me—is flattering. It's
icant to me. Really. But for the life of
me, I just can’t believe Pm really that spe-
cial. I know Pm a guy who has been in
every magazine he can imagine, and on
most TV programs, but they didn't have
the same kind of significance to me as the
Playboy Interview. Y guess some would say
that my sitting here should convince me.
PLAYBOY: Put aside this interview. Pretend
you're a guest on your own show and
time's running out. Commercial’s coming
up. What's the question you'd ask?

another onc.

GUMBEL: Probably the dumbest you can
imagine.
PLAYBOY: ita try.

"What are you really like?"
PLAYBOY: And the answer?

GUMBEL: Probably like nothing you'd
think. [Pauses, relights cigar] Га probably
look at the guy and sec that in comparison
with other people who do this job, he's
really . . . a diflerent kind of personality.
Maybe more flamboyant. And Га wonder
how the hell he fits into this group. The
quick answer would be “He doesn’

WHAT SORT OF MAN
READS PLAYBOY?

T vears ago, he broke O. J. Simpson's si
season N.F.L. rushing record. “The play 1 broke the
record on was a 47 gap. | needed five yards and got
seven . . . didn't hit anybody, just made a couple of
quick moves.” Last year, he romped for 248 yards
against Dallas, destroying the league's 22-year-old
play-off rushing record. What sort of man is he? “I'm

a very strong man, very dominant. I don't feel in
dated by anyone, any time or anywhere.” Why docs
he read rıaynoy? “Sometimes I read the articles, but
most of the time ГИ open to the centerfold. What 1
like most are those beautiful women. A lot of the

wor T ry)

son, the sort of man who reads PLAYBOY.

. luscious.” Eric Dicker-

АУВОХ аге. .

en

PHOTOGRAPHEO FOR PLAYBOY BY NORMAN SEEFF

78

CIVILIZATION

REVISITED

your formal invitation to the good life in the eighties

овооу Lookeo better in a
top hat than Fred
Astaire. Pop on a top-
per today, though, and
people will assume that you sing
telegrams for a living. That isn't
civilized. Ditto for ascots. A civi-
lized man brandishes no such
affectations; he simply exudes
smartness and elegance. The
style is effortless and unflinch-
ing, like Jeremy Irons starring

with the Royal Shakespeare
Company or in his new film, The
Mission. A civilized man is not
afraid of tuxedos. He under-
stands that you must always
wear your tuxedo; never let it
wear you. Act loose. Be a guy.
The most elegant thing you can
do in black tie is eat breakfast;
take your date, postbinge, to a
swanky old hotel dining room
where business drudges can spy

you over their eggs and wonder
what they're doing wrong. Civi-
lized men, of course, are better
lovers. In conversation, unbri-
dled eye contact succeeds over
chatter. It is poor form to swag
ger and bluster. Dorothy Parker's
idea of perfection: "His voice
was intimate as the rustle of
sheets and he kissed easily.”
These seem like good qualities
to muster. Other de rigueur

Jeremy Irons, right, oozes civilization, British style. His custom-made tux is from Garrick Anderson, $1200; the waistcoat, $175, and tie,
$30, from Dunhili Tailors; the tux shirt, by Hilditch & Key, $110. The well-bred dressing table includes an 18-kt.-gold Tank watch, $6500,
18-kt.-gold cuticle scissors, $1350, and matching nail file, $1375, all from Cartier. The blindingly white cotton-voile tuxedo shirt, by Sul-
ka, $125; the silk Jacquard bow tie, by Addison on Madison, $17; the cummerbund, by Ermenegildo Zegna, S75; and the silk-faille braces, by
Gorsart of N.Y.C., $22.50. The ensemble is stylishly secured by malachite-and-onyx studs, $1425, and cuff links, $1575, both by Cartier.

PHOTOGRAPHY BY JESSE GERSTEIN AND ANTHONY EDGEWORTH

James Cagney,
Jimmy the Gent

Cary Grant,
Champagne Champ.

Ronald Reagan,
Tuxedo-in-Chief

Marlene Dietrich,
Best Cross-Dressed

Humphrey Bogart,
Best Hall-Dressed

Bela Lugosi,
Vampire Squire

Sean Connery,
Licensed to Thrill.

moves: Take her arm when
strolling. Unfasten her pearls at
night's end. Dip her fingers in
cognac and suck them dry—
what the heck. But what about a
role model? Without question,
Cary Grant is the avatar of the
entire dashing breed. He essays
the bracing mix of easy charm
and sly panache like no other
guy's guy. His credo: "We
should all just smell well and
enjoy ourselves more." Accord-
ingly, the civilized man uses
deodorant and cologne spar-
ingly. He does, however, shower
with a vengeance. Or, to echo
royal snob Cecil Beaton, "What
is elegance? Soap and water!”
Blow driers, by the way, are the
bane of civilization. Espresso is
the height. Shoes should lace
up, not slip on (loafers are for
Yups, thank уси). Civilized men
read novels and not just myster-
ies. They know it's never too late
to take piano lessons. If not pas-
sionate, they are at least patient
about opera. And, perhaps most
significant, they fully appreciate
the wonders of bubbly. We like
that sparkling scene in The Phil-
adelphia Story in which Jimmy
Stewart informs Cary Grart,
"Champagneis a great leveler...
it makes you my equal.”

Fred Astaire's sense of style (opposite
page) rises within him the way bubbles
rise in champagne: It makes him lighter
than air, a dancer unfettered by gravity
and other weighty matters. Tiny baubles
that will lighten your style (and wallet)
include the classics pictured at right.
From the top: Smolder over a sterling
cigar holder, from the Sentimento Col-
lection, about $350, and a gold-plated
cutter, by Dunhill, $100. Take a stylish
snort from a sterling flask, also from
Sentimento, about $450. Then stave off
tardiness at the hands of an 18-kt.-gold
pocket watch with nautical design, from
Leighton, $9500. Keep abreast with a liz-
ard coat wallet, by Alfred Dunhill of Lon-
don, $135. This 18-kt.-gold key chain is
dangled by Cartier, $700. To add extra
pluck, Asprey offers an 18-kt.-gold tooth-
pick, $410. Just in the nicotine, Leighton
‘brings forth its black-enamel-and-18-kt.-
gold cigarette case, $4000. To ignite the
night, Cartier flashes its lacquer lighter,
$240. You will get your Wordsworth when
you unsheath Asprey's art nouveau pen
with 14-kt.-gold overlay, $2400. Finally,
achieve pocket panache with Tiffany's
18-kt.-gold money clip, $725, and make
notable observations of endangered spe-
cies with Asprey's crocodile jotter, $250.

CHAMEA CGIE

the essential truth about the world's most
elegant wine and a guide to some great little known marques

o other wine has the

charm and disarming

generosity of cham-

pagne. It has quelled
wars, tıred hearts, given strength
to the weak, brought giants to
their knees. Napoleon's Josephine
bathed in it; Beau Brummell had
his boot polish made with it. Today,
champagne is administered as
medicine in many of France's
maternity hospitals.

But what is this wine we call
champagne? It is a sparkling wine
made by inducing a second fer-
mentation in the bottle, from a
blend of any ratio of just three
grape varieties—Pinot Noir, Pinot
Meunier, Chardonnay—from a
delimited area within the province
of Champagne, France. Sadly,
champagne is not always clearly
understood, either as being distinct
from other sparkling wines or for its
many styles. Statistics show that in
the U.S.A,, the five most promoted
brands enjoy about two thirds of
the market. But here is an as-
sortment of ten undiscovered
champagnes. Their quality, how-
ever, bears no relationship to
their lack of prominence.

But first, a few words
about their subtle differ-
ences. Most cham-
pagne is brut,

or dry and nonvintage. Lesser dry
styles—extra-dry, demi-sec and
doux—also have their place as
accompaniments to various foods.
Nonvintage is blended from differ-
ent harvests that alone were not
atypical but when blended with
others produce a consistent cham-
pagne character. Vintage cham-
pagne is made in years when
mother nature has harmonized the
many viticultural factors required
to produce the best from a single
year. Crémant is a champagne
made by inducing about two thirds
the amount of pressure in the
bottle—making an effervescent,
creamy wine that has less length on
the palate. Blanc de Blancs is a
wholly Chardonnay wine. These
champagnes range in style from
those of great finesse to others
of extreme power. Many
houses market pres-
tige cuvée and
herald it as
the

best of the line. Rarely do these
wines justify the price asked, and
often they are of inconsistent qual-
ity. They're for those with more
money than style. Rosé cham-
pagne can be fabulous and often
offers more variety of choice. It
is made either predominantly or
totally from black grapes and тау
be vintage or nonvintage. Among
champagnes, it is an underesti-
mated pleasure but one that seems
to be enjoying renewed popularity
now. Here, then, are some
champagnes to set you
apart from the crowd.
—GEORGE TRUBY AND

PETER МЕ SICHEL

BY DAVE JORDANO

THE
BUBBLING BESTS

Mumm Crémant de Cramant: A 100 percent
Chardonnay wine пот a single grand cru vineyard,
Cramant. it's an especially pleasing daytime aperitif.

Dom Ruinart Blane de Blancs: From the oldest
house (1729) in Champagne and named after the
founder's uncle, a Benedictine monk and a contempo-
rary of Dom Pérignon

Laurent-Perrier Ultra Brut: Laurent-Perrier is the
rising star of Champagne. The Ultra Brut is made with-
ош dosage—a dash of champagne and sugar added
before the final corking. Excellent with oysters.

Charles Heidsieck: Once very prominent in Ameri-
can markets —Champagne Charlie was sung from the
Copacabana to Pelm Beach in the Twenties—it
remains a top-quality wine.

Krug: In each outstanding vintage—not every
one—Krug produces just over 1000 cases from a sin-
gle four-acre vineyard, the Clos du Mesnil. The 1979 is
a real powerhouse.

Bollinger Vieilles Vignes Francaises: The grapes
are grown on two small plots never affected by Phyl-
loxera. In 1969 (a small but high-quality vintage), it
made a special cuvée to commemorate the 70th birth-
day of Mme. Lily Bollinger—and continues to do so in
deserving years. This is a bolder, more powerful
champagne.

Jacquart: Few houses do extra-dry champagne
well. Jacquart does it superbly. It goes particularly
well with pastries.

Charbaut Certificate Rosé: Rosé champagne has
not found а permanent niche in champagne popular-
ity. Fortunately, it's now in season, and Charbaut's is
outstanding,

Deutz: Even without its label, designed by French
artist Georges Mathieu, this champagne is magnifi-
cent. беш? is one of the most underrated of the small
producers.

Philipponnat Clos des Goisses: The epicure will
appreciate this single-vineyard champagne from one
of the few remaining family-owned houses. It's as.
Subtle and complex as champagne can Бе. It's not for
everyone; but not everyone deserves it

WHAT THE GREAT
CHEFS ARE FIXING AT HOME
FOR THE HOLIDAYS

away from the office, the

Se restaurateurs have no res

vations

when entertaining their families and friends

ICHAEL FOLEY — (chef/
owner, Printers Row,
FirstStreet andFoley's
Grand Ohio, Chicago):
I like to think of my house as
a noisy neighborhood bistro.
When guests come in, they
smell baking bread and cider.

1 don't like everything planned
and laid out. It's important notto
control your guests. You'll only.
get tired from pushing people
around, or you'll be depressed.
Instead, | set up activity centers:
| put champagne and mulled
wine in one corner and a big slab
of cheese and bread in another
corner, in front of the fire. | also
leave a huge sheet pan of mus-
sels on a table. And there's
always smoked food—oysters
and caviar, salmon or trout. |
make sure there's a game of
cards or pool going, too.

The meal is family style, so
that people can relax. They can
eat whatever they want. | always
make eight or nine pots of food.
People love to look inside the
pots and handle them. In one
they might find a purée of car-
rotsor rutabagas and in another,
cabbage. | love to make braised
rabbit with mustard. | serve corn
Sticks and bacon-cheese muffins
with it, and together they're mar-
velous. After dessert, which is
usually a chocolate torte and a
raspberry fool, | end the meal
with aniseed cookies, port and
hot Mexican coffee. The aromas
are incredible.

Each year, we manage to over-
cook a roast. My father starts it
early in the day to make it tender
and juicy. But as people arrive,
they check the oven and say,
“Oh, the oven's not even on!”
and then jack up the tempera-
ture. By the time my father walks
in to check it, the oven's at 500
degrees. So the roast gets to the
table overcooked. And it hap-
pens every year.

GILBERT LE coze (chef/co-owner,
Le Bernardin, New York City and
Paris): My sister, Maguy, and |
go to our parents’ house in Brit-
tany for Christmas. It's just the

Michael Foley FOLEY’S GRANO
OHIO, PRINTERS ROW, FIRST
STREET, Chicago, Illinois

Gilbert LeCoze—LE BERNAROIN,
New York, New York; Paris, France
Udo Nechutnys—MIRAMONTE RES-
TAURANT, St. Helena, California
Wolfgang Puck—SPAGO, Los
Angeles, California
Lydia Shire—FOUR SEASONS
HOTEL, Beverly Hills, California
Alice Waters—CHEZ PANISSE,
Berkeley, California

Вапу — Wine—THE QUILTED
GIRAFFE, THE CASUAL QUILTED
GIRAFFE, New York, New York

four of us. The big stone house,
which has a huge flower garden,
is right on the sea in a little vil-
lage called Port Navalo, on the
Gulf of Morbihan. | grew up
there, so it's my favorite part of
the world.

Generally, when I'm not in the
restaurant, | never, never, never
want to cook. So my father
works in the kitchen. He gets
completely involved in the prep-
aration. Days before we arrive,
he drives around the country-
side and goes to farms, looking
for the best chickens, and he
brings up the best bottles from
his wine cellar. We begin the din-
ner with oysters and shrimp that
we've caught ourselves. Then
my father makes a wonderful
roast chicken, stuffed with chest-
nuts. №5 one of my favorite
dishes. With it, we have lots of
fried potatoes and a salad with
just a little bit of garlic and some
Olive oil and ground nuts.

When someone else does the
cooking, it's not difficult for me
to separate myself from the food.
| respect people too much to crit-

PHOTOGRAPHY BY RICHARD FEGLEY

icize their efforts. | can't say,
“No, | don't want that—it's not
good." It wouldn't be fair, be-
cause they've spent a lot of time
with it. So, if the food is burned,
you just eat the burned food,
drink a little more wine and do a
little more talking. Everybody's
too serious all the time—re-
member, this /s a holiday.

People who want to make а
nice dinner will inevitably stay in
the kitchen all day. But the work
is part of the celebration. We
hang around the kitchen until
my father wants to be left alone
with his sauces; then we drink
and talk and keep the big fire-
place lighted. When 1 return to
Brittany, | also like to play the
bagpipes. Its a tradition, and
every year | get worse and
worse. But it's fun.

upo nechumvs (chef, Mira-
monte Restaurant, St. Helena,
California): When | invite people,
| always want the best conver-
sation and music. | really enjoy
spending as much time as possi-
ble with my friends, and | want
them to feel right at home.

1 usually plan my holiday
menu about four weeks ahead of
time. That lets me work around
my guests' likes and dislikes.
The menu's geared to group
involvement, because | don't
want people sitting stiffly at the
table, waiting for the next
course. Everyone hangs around
the kitchen, drinking champagne
and tasting appetizers. Then we
all get to work opening oysters.
And there's always someone
who learns how to put together
my crab bouillabaisse.

1 like to serve wild game—
pheasant's my specialty. Friends
who hunt always bring me
some. | serve it with wild mush-
rooms and a celery-root purée,
which are wonderful winter veg-
etables. | usually choose Roque-
fort for the cheese course, since |
can (concluded on page 190)

For chef Michael Foley (in green sweater], home
can be a neighborhood bistro: “Set up fam-
ily-style food, keep it simple—and relax."

ANCING, we have reason to believe, is the most jay [епо
civilized form of social intercourse; and the ^ >
ОЕ е ее COn
bly, the tango. Designed for sultry sophisti- Shower

cates who are unafraid to touch, it is pure libido dipped n practice the

salsa, scorched in Latin lust. Tango writhes and whirls and 9

grinds and gropes! with syncopated abandon. i's Нон айп луй

drama accompanied by cervical whiplash and wanton disre- method

gard for shoe leather. In short, itis your best bet for cheap

thrills under a flimsy veneer of haute style and impeccable

manners. To demonstrate some of the more mesmerizing

maneuvers of the fateful embrace, pızveoy called on that

fleet-footed paradigm of civility Jay Leno, whose series of

late-night NBC comedy specials debuted this fall. His lis-

some partner in sublimity is our 1986 Playmate of the Year,

Kathy Shower. We asked Leno, properly slicked down for

the occasion, whether he felt like Valentino. “More like

Vaselino,” he said. “But it's the look you want to achieve

It's also important to try to make your sideburns resemble

Spock's. He offers special insight into the techniques pic-

tured here. beginning with the pose below left. "One:

Always approach the most beautiful woman in the room

with a small gift, like, say, a Ferrari, a Rolls-Royce, maybe

even a rose. [Tip: It's considered good form to bite a rose

stem while tangoing. Practice at home first on barbed wire.]

Two: Be forceful. Before you even say hello, place your arm

around her waist and pull her ankle up your thigh. Women

like this. Three: As you dance, hold her with only one hand,

leaving your other hand free to wave to your friends. And

four: When lifting her leg up to expose her underwear, а

gentleman will always turn her away from the bus boys

who are watching from the corner. Instead, find a mirror."

I's been said that a woman learns most about a man by dancing with
him. So what has Playmate of the Year Kathy Shower found out about.
the sure-footed Jay Leno? “I think she's just happy | didn't drop her."

PHOTOGRAPHY BY MARIO CASILLI

КОККЕ ВС МО

argentina's
literary giant
tells the
story of the
world's most
sensuous
dance

11918,
HISTORY OF TANGO

article By JORGE LUIS BORGES

ESEARCHERS HAVE painstakingly delved into the
origin of that most sensuous of dances—the
tango. | subscribe to every one of their con-
clusions, and, for that matter, to any other.

One popular theory holds that the tango originated in
the Buenos Aires slums (this was promoted by
moviemakers who thought that tenements had good pho-
tographic qualities). My own and, | like to think, more reli-
able sources hold that the tango originated in Argentine
brothels around 1885. This theory is confirmed by the
cost of the instruments on which tangos were first
played—piano, flute and violin—instruments far beyond
the means of the inhabitants of the shabby outskirts of
Buenos Aires, whose music was confined to the guitar.

There is no lack of further confirmation: the lascivious-
ness of the dance steps and the sexual connotations of
certain titles (for example, El Fierrazo, "the big rod”) and
the fact that, as a boy, I myself observed the tango danced
оп street corners by male couples—because decent
women would have no part of such a wanton display

(The upper classes were, naturally, appalled by the
tango and referred to it as “that reptile from the brothel.”
But then, about 1910, it was made respectable by—of
course!— Paris.)

The first tangos had no lyrics; or if they did, the lyrics
were improvised and usually obscene. Some dealt with
country life. because their composers sought popular
subjects, and low life and the slums were not poetic
material—not then. Other tangos were lighthearted bits
of boasting. Leter on, the lyrics chronicled the seamy side
of life. Loneliness was a favorite theme, and there were
also tangos of recrimination, tangos of hatred and tangos
full of mockery or bitterness. Eventually, all the hustle
and bustle of the city began making their way into the
tango; and 1 can remember pieces that were called
The Rose Garden and My Nights at the Opera.

Someone orice remarked, "If I can write all the nation's
ballads, I don't care who writes its laws." This observa-
tion suggests that popular poetry can influence senti-
ments and shape behavior. If we apply this thesis to the
tango, we will find in it a mirror of our daily lives.

Musically, the tango may not be important; its only
importance is what we attribute to it. This is not unjust,
but it applies equally to everything under the sun—to our
‘own death, for example, or to the woman who rejects us

Dictionaries of music give a short, adequate definition
both elementary and straightforward (“a dance of long,
gliding steps and intricate poses, written in % or %
time"), but a composer who correctly follows such a defi-
nition and pieces together a “tango” finds to his astonish-
ment that he has constructed something that our ears do
not recognize, that our memories do not cherish and that
our bodies reject—for the tango, like all that is genuine, is
mysterious. It might be said that without Buenos Aires
evenings and nights, no tango can be made; and that,
indeed, may be the only truth about the origin of the
tango. — Translated by Norman Thomas di Giovanni

PARTNERS

he was a rising
star—and almost got
knocked out of the sky

Wa Dean Robinson
finally made partner at hs
law firm, his Ме changed.
Edward Hooper, one d the
older partners, did every-
{hing he could to make the
transition easy. Between
conferences and. dinners
with cents, the days of
(ree-associating in his
ofice seemed over for
Dean. NN

г "Чоте certainly mak
N this painless,” ean
told Edward Hooper one
hat afternoon when а sul
focating breeze moved
from the high plains
through the city. Dean fel

fiction

By THOMAS MEGUANE

PLAYBOY

he ought to say something.
An older lawyer did the same for me,”
Edward.

“I hope I can thank you in some way,”
said Dean, concealing his boredom.

“I thanked mine,” said Edward, “by
being the first to identify his senility and
showing him the door. It was a mercy kill-
ing."

Dean perked up at thi

Edward Hoopcr's caution and scholarly
style were not Dean's. Yet Dean found
himself studying him, noting the three-
piece suits, the circular tortoise-shell
glasses and the bulge of chest muscle
under the vest. It fascinated Dean that
Edward's one escape from his work was
mot golf, not sailing or tennis, but the most.
vigorous kind of duckhunting, reclining in
a layout boat with 100 decoys, a shotgun
in his arms and the spray turning to sleet
around him. At Christmas, Edward gave
the secretaries duck he had smoked him-

sai

a dark-blue, striped nd c
instead of a briefcase, his old-fashioned
brown accordion file with a string tie. One
side of the elevator was glass, айога
view of the edge of the city
bevond. Dean could imagi
nal hunters out there and, in fact, could
almost picture Edward among them,
avuncular, restrained and armed. Grooved
concrete shot past as they descended in the
glass elevator. The door opened on a foyer
almost a story and a half high, with
immense trecs growing out of holes in the
lobby floor

“Here's the deal,” said Edward, turning
in the foyer to genially stop Dean's prog-
ress. He had a way of fingering the edge of
Dean’s coat as he thought. “One of my cli-
ents wants me for dinner tomorrow night.
‘Terry Bidwell. He is the least fun of all my
clients, and Ра like you to walk through
this with me. He's the biggest client we've
got.” Edward looked up from Dean’s
lapels to meet his eves with his usua
expression, which hovered between seri-
ness and mischief.
What do you see me doing?” Dean
asked.

“I see you massaging this fellow's ego,
forming a bond. Irs shitwork.”

“РИ be there,” said Dean. It occurred
to him that being the only unmarried pare
ner was part of his selection, part of hi
utility as a partner. But being singled out
by the canny and dignified Edward
Hooper was a pleasure in itself.

б

Dean left his car in town on Saturd:
night and rode out to the Bidwells’ with
Edward. The house was of recent
construction, standing in a cottonwood
grove where the original ranch house must
have been, and the lawn was carefully
mown and clipped around the old horse

ng a

corral. There was a сер groove in the
even grass where, in simpler times, thou-
sands of cattle had gone to slaughter.

Dean and Edward stepped up to the
door, Edward giving Dean a little thrust of
the elbow as though to say, “Here gocs,”
and knocked.

"There came the barking of d
throated dogs and the door parted, then
opened fully, revealing Georgeanne Bid-
well. She flung her arms around Dean,
then held him away (rom her. She was an
old girlfriend, actually his favorite onc.

“I can't believe it!”

Neither can I,” said Dean, feeling
the absurdity of his subdued reply.

Georgeanne, whom Dean had not seen
in a decade, took him by the arm as
though she needed it for support. “I
hayen’t seen this man since spring break in
Ninetcen-what?"

Terry Bidwell appeared at the end of the
front hall and blocked off most of its light.
He took in his wife, clinging to Dean's
arm. “А little wine,” he said, “perhaps a
couple of candles?”

Dean thrust out his free hand. “De
Robinson,” he said. “How do you do?”

"Dm getting there, pardner,” said Terry
Bidwell, looking at the hand and then tak-
ing it. Terry still looked like the football
star he had been. Georgeanne had always
had a football player, and this was cer-
tainly the big one. His face was undis
guised by its contemporary cherubic
haircut, his thighs by his vast slacks. Hc
smiled at Edward without shaking his
hand and turned to lead them into the liv
ing room. Dean, behind him, marveled at
the expanse of his back. But the face was
most astonishing; handsome, it was, nev-
ertheless, the face of a Visigoth.

A television glowed silently in the living
room, running national news, and when
the sports came on, Terry took a remote
channel changer from his pocket, turned
up the volume, got the scores and muted it
again. He didn't pour them drinks, but he
went to the bottles and named the brands.
Then he went to the half-size refrigerator,
pulled open the door and said, “Ice.”

“You've really made this place your
own," Edward said, gazing around.

Is that a compliment? Dean wondered.

"It is our own,” said Terry. “I paid for

Edward turned to Dean, but without
full eye contact. “Terry ha charter
service that fills a gap.”

“The northern Rockies?” said Terry
^A gap?” Terry's excitement over this
point gave Dean a chance to look at
Georgeanne, still as pretty as when they
had dated. She had a long chestnut braid

an ai

down the middle of her back and bright

black eyes that missed nothing. At one
time, she had seemed to be astonished at
everything she heard: It was part of her
charm. ‘That astonishment had been mod-
ulated to the point that it was now а mys-

tery whether or not she was
this at all.

Seeing her took Dean back to when
everything had seemed possible, though
he remembered being exhausted by the
alternatives. What was that old dilemma?
Whether to cover yourself with glory or
with flannel. I am well on my way,
thought Dean, to covering myself with
flanncl.

They moved like a drill team to the di
g room. Next to the table was a vast win-
dow with a white grid overlay to suggest
multiple panes. A pond had been dug out
and landscaped, and the perfection of its
grassy banks and cvenly spaced, languor-
ous willows depressed Dean. ^ silent
woman in an apron be the
meal. Dean was in a swoon to find his old
crush on Georgeanne intact.

“Well,” said Georg ng her
"How good to see evervone so
ВУ, and so prosperous!” They all
raised their glasses. The Burgundy made
red shadows on the tablecloth. Dean һай
his throbbing hand on Georgeanne’s leg.
Edward stared at him and he removed i

“You seem quiet," said Terry to Dean. 1
wonder if he noticed, Dean thought, look-
i back at the slab face with its small cars
and the corded neck set about with alpa
He couldn't tell by looking over at George-
anne, who seemed serene, practically
sleepy.

"Dean has learned restraint since гї
to partnership. It's very becomi)

“Partner!” said Georgeanne. Only a
pretty woman could chance a screech lil
this one. Dean jumped.

“They've got me on a tr
be sent down any time."

"Oh, no, no, no," said Edward. "It's
quite final. That's the charm.”

“We haven't got titles in my ra
said Terry. “Just the balance sheet and a
five-year plan.

Dean listened, nodding mechanically
and asking himself how Terry even got
anyone to ride in his airplanes. He thought
there would be a polite way to ask the
question but feared hearing all too clearly
how America was beating a path to his
hanga

Dean sensed only vaguely that Terry
might be bridling at the a that а smooth
transition was under way, from Edward,
the firm's certified gray eminence, to a ris-
ing star whose performance might be lim-
ited by an on-the-job-training atmosphere.
Even Dean couldn't guess how much of
this might be truc.

He dropped the thought because it led
nowhere and it was diflicult to think of
anything more than Georgeanne's leg, the
yellow dress with its wet handprint.

Dinner seemed to go on and on, a less
attractive form of nourishment, thought
Dean, than an LV. bottle. Edward said
something about using franchise principles

(continued on page 234)

hearing an

ing

al basis. I could

n

“And then I realized I couldn't take another Christmas
Eve staring up little reindeer asses!"

91

a portfolio

eight women

caught
by d ‘the act
Patrick Demarchelier puit

an appreciation
by
Bruce Jay Friedman

ONE of the
women shown here
will have trouble
finding а husband
when she's past 30,
despite the results
of recent studies.
And if she has onc

already, she will be

Brooke Shields

able to get a second one. All are Gorgeous Girls who will never have to worry
about day-care centers or the best way to clean a refrigerator. Nor will you
find them at The Salty Dog, being asked if they come there often. They are not

that kind of woman.

The reason they all look so serious is that they are being photographed by
Patrick Demarchelier, which is no small thing. You don't rush up to him and
say, "Take my picture." You have to be a card-carrying С.С. before he will go
near you. Demarchelier has photographed each of these women with a subtle
interplay of light and shadow. It's not that other photographers use a klutzy

interplay of light and shadow. No one is saying that. It’s just that

Demarchelier's is just a tad more subtle than the other fellows’. Which is why

as to what these women have in common
93

Janet Jones he's Demarchelier. Some gu

Melanie Griffith

Christie Brinkley

* Each one likes a man with a sense of humor. If he has a sense of humor and is

also connected to a banking family, that's good, too.

* Each has invested wisely. She has a portfolio with a nice mix of triple-tax

municipals and real estate. An investment-broker friend she met in a disco
possibly through Vitas Gerulaitis—keeps a close сус on her portfolio and makes
sure she doesn't lose a quarter. How would it look if he had to say, “I blew Pau-
lina's modeling savings

= Each feels she is just a little girl at heart.

* Each likes Jack Nicholson and believes that hunger should be cradicated.

Would these women like one another if they were thrown together in а

room? Yes, but only if there were somcone to loosen them up a bit. Not
Demarchelier. If he walked into the room, they'd all get grim again and start

striking С.С. poses. That's the effect he has. It would have to be some short

guy in a сабап. He'd tell them some Halston gossip and they'd all start c

ing up and become the best of friends. If no little guy came in, possibly Chris-

tic Brinkley would get things going. She looks like the cutup of the crowd.

She's even managed a little bit of a smile in her photograph. In any case,
Brinkley would tell
them about a model
who'd done something
tacky on an assign-
ment in Tangier. Once
the ice was broken, the
others would сш
loose, each with her
own story about a
model she knew who
was really tacky.
Before you know it,
the room would be
Tack City, all taking

turns grossing the oth-

-ers out and having the
Jacqueline

Bisset

nc of their lives.

Some nagging questions posed by these pictures

= Is Janet Jones wondering which is a better career move—to appear tough or
to appear vulnerable?

* What would Brooke Shields’s career be like if it hadn't been shaped by her

mom? Would it be flying all over the place or would it be on track?

* Why is Melanie Griffith constantly bending and stretching?

от Patti Hansen’s?

+ Do Christie Brinkley’s vicws on arms reduction d

3 * Is it possible to catch Paulina in something other than a pensive mood? Does
Paulina

Porizkova she hit the ground pensive and stay that way all day?

97

Debra Winger

Patti Hansen

> How can Jacqueline Bisset be a normal individual one moment and then, all of
a sudden, be thunderously beautiful?

+ Will Patti Hansen's exposed half nipple set off a new half-a-nip craze? Will
men go berserk wanting to sce the other half, never stopping to consider that

half is better than none?

* When Hollywood is called to account for its crimes of the Eighties, will it

respond, quite properly, “But we gave you Debra Winger”?
For those who arc intimidated by these women, it's important to remember

that each had a father who told her to go to her room when she was naughty.

——

two kinds of people came to this planet—those who wanted to hide and those who wanted to seek

fiction ву ROBERT SILVERBERG ruars му marx, Juanito told him-
self. That one, there. That one for sure. He stared at the new dinkos coming off
the midday shuttle from Earth. The one he meant to go for was the one with no
eyes at all, blank from brow to bridge of nose, just the merest suggestions of shad-
owy pits below the smooth skin of the forehead. As if the eyes had been erased,
Juanito thought. But, in fact, they had probably never been there in the first

PLAYBOY

102

place. It didn't look like a retrofit gene job,
morc like a prenatal splice.

He knew he had to move fast. There was
plenty of competition. Fificen, 20 couriers
here in the waiting room, gathering like
vultures, and they were some of the best:
icky, Lola, Kluge. Nattathaniel. Delilah
Everybody looked hungry today. Juanito
couldn't afford to get shut out. He hadn't
worked in six weeks, and it was time. His
last job had been а fast-talking, fancy-
dancing Hungarian, wanted on Common-
place and maybe two or three other
satellite worlds for dealing in plutonium.
to had milked that onc for all it was
The
newcomers learn the system, they melt in
and become invisible, and there's no rca-
son for them to go on ра) "Then you
have to find a new client.

"OK," Juanito said, looking around
challengingly. “There's minc—the weird
one. The one with half a face. Anybody
else want him?”

Kluge laughed and said,
yours, man."

“Yeah,” Delilah said, with a little shud-

г. "AIL yours." ТЕ t tere him, her
з disap-
nito that Delilah didn't have
kind of imagination. "Christ," she
said. “I bet he'll be plenty of troubli

"Troubles what pays best," Juanito
said. "You want to go for the easy ones,
that’s fine with me.” He grinned at her
and waved at the others. “If we're all
agreed, I think ГИ head downstairs now.
See you later, people.”

He started to move inward and down-
ward along the shuttle-hub wall. Dazzling
sunlight glinted off the docking module’s
silvery rim and off the Earth shuttle's thick
columnar docking shaft, wedged into the
center of the module like a spear through a
doughnut. On the far side of the wall, the
new dinkos were making their wobbly way
past the glowing ten-meter-high portrait of.
El Supremo and on into the red-fiberglass
tent that was the fu ation chamber. As
usual, they were having a hard time with
the low gravity. Here at the hub, it was
one sixteenth g, max.

Juanito always wondered about the
newcomers, why they were here, what they
were fleeing. Only two kinds of people ever
came to Valparaiso, those who wanted to
hide and those who wanted to seck. The
place was nothing but an enormous space-
ng safe house. You wanted to be left
alone, you came to Valparaiso and bought
yourself some privacy. But that implied
that you had done something that made
other people not want to let you alone.
"There was always some of both going on
here, some hiding, some seeking, El
Supremo looking down benignly on it all,
raking in his cut. And not just El
Supremo.

Down below, the new dinkos were tr:
ng to walk jaunty, to walk mcan. But that

“He's all

was hard to do when you were keeping
your body all clenched up as if you were
afraid of drifting into mid-air if you put
your foot down too hard. Juanito loved it,
the way they were erunching along, that
constipated shuffle of theirs.

Gravity stuff didn't ever bother Juanito.
He had spent all his life out here in the sat-
ellite worlds, and he took it for granted
that the pull was going to fluctuate ac-
cording to your distance from the hub. You
automatically made compensating adjust-
ments, that was all. Juanito found it hard
to understand a place where the gravity
would be the same everywhere all the
time. He had never set foot on Earth or
any of the other natural planets, didn't
carc to, didn't expect to.

The guard on duty at the quarantine
gate was an android. His name, his label,
whatever it was, was something like Velcro
Exxon. Juanito had seen him at this gate
before. As he came up close, the android
glanced at him and said, “Working again
so soon, Juanito?"

“Man has to cat, no?”

The android shrugged. Eating wasn't
all that important to him, most likely
"Weren't you working that plutonium
peddler out of Commonplace?”

Juanito said. smiling, "What plu
peddle

“Sure,” said the android. “I hear you.”

He held out his waxy-skinned hand, and
Juanito put a 50-callaghano currency
plaque in it. The usual fce for illicit entry
to the customs tank was only 35 callies,
but Juanito believed in spreading the
wealth, especially where the authorities
were concerned. They didn't have to let
you in here, after all. Some days more
couriers than dinkes showed up, and then
the gate guards had to allocate. Overpay-
ing the guards was simply a smart invest-
ment.

“Thank you kindly,” the android said.
“Thank you very much.” He hit the scan-
ner override. Juanito stepped through the
security shield into the customs tank and
looked around for his mark

.

The new dinkos were being herded into
the fumigation chamber now. They were
annoyed about that—they always were—
but the guards kept them moving right
along through the pufly bursts of pink and
green and yellow sprays that came from
the ceiling nozzles. Nobody got out of cus-
toms quarantine without passing through
that chamber. El Supremo paranoid
about the entry of exotic microorganisms
into Valparaiso's closed-cycle ecology. El
upremo was param about a lot of
things. You didn't get to be sole and abso-
lute ruler of your own little satellite world
and stay that way lor 37 years without a
heavy component of paranoia in your
makc-up.

Juanito leaned up against the great
curving glass wall of thc customs tank and

um

peered through the mists of sterilizer fog.
The rest of the couriers were starting to
come in now. Juanito watched them sin-
gling out potential clients. Most of the
dinkos were signing up as soon as the deal
was explained, but, as always, a few were
shaking off help and setting out by them-
selves. Cheap skates, Juanito thought. Ass-
holes and wimps. But they'd find out. It
wasn't possible to get started оп Valpa-
raiso without a courier, no matter how
sharp you thought you were. Valparaiso
was a Iree-enterprise zone, alter all. If you
knew the rules, you were pretty much safe
from all harm here forever. If not, not.

Time to make the approach, Juanito fig-
urcd.

It was easy enough finding the blind
man. He was much taller than the other
dinkos, a big, burly man some 30-odd
years old, heavy bones, powerful muscles.
In the bright, glaring light, his blank fore-
head gleamed like a reflecting beacon. The
low gravity didn’t seem to trouble him
much, nor his blindness. His movements.
along the customs track werc easy, confi-
dent, almost graceful.

Juanito sauntered over and said, “ГИ be
your courier, sir. Juanito Holt." He barcly
came up to the blind man's elbow.

“Courier?”

"New-arrival assistance service. Facili-
tate your entry arrangements. Customs
clearance, currency exchange, hotel
accommodations, permanent settlement
papers, if that’s what you intend. Also spe-
cial services by arrangement,"

Juanito stared up expectantly at the
blank face. The eyeless man looked back
at him in a blunt, straight-on way, with
what would have been strong eye contact i
the dinko had had eyes. That was eerie.
What was even ecrier was the sense Jua-
to had that the eyeless man was sceing
him clearly. For just a moment, he won-
dered who was going to be controlling
whom in this deal.

"What kind of special services?”

“Anything else you need,” Juanito
said.

“Anything?”

“Anything. This is Valparaiso, sir,”

“Mmm. What's your fee?

“Two thousand callaghanos a week for
the basic. Specials arc extra, according.”

“How much is that in Capbloc dollars,
your basic?”

Juanito told him.
hat's not so bad,” the blind man

Two weeks?

advance."
“Mmm,” said the blind man again.

Again that intense, eyeless gaze, seeing

minimum, payable in

ight through him. "How cld arc you?" he
asked suddenly.

"Seventeen," Juanito blurted, caught
off guard.

‘And you're good, are you?”
(continued on page 109)

‘TIS THE SEASON
TO BE IN RETAIL

Let's talk
overtime.

* THE HORNY SCOPE—Fits easily over
your shoulders. Spots females in heat.

* HOMING SOCKS— Perfect for the
lazy male. Socks actually fly up off
the floor and into the laundry

+ THE RAISEMASTER—Now you hamper. Wives love 'em!

can tell when to hit your boss up for * POT-GUT SUCKER—Just attach it

a raise. Tunes into your boss's + ANTI-ATTORNEY COLOGNE—Just (о your waistline and watch it suck
biorhythms—when they're low, in a dab in the morning and lawyers out unwanted fat cells in minutes!

you go. will avoid you like the plague. (Supersucker for the over-40 bod wad.)

103

Just once Yd like to
hear a little kid say . . .

Just once Га like to
hear a Christmas
shoppersay...

Just once Vd like to hear someone
in a ski lodge say . . .

ILIKEA
MAN WITH TASTE,
LETS SLEEP
TOGETHER,

Little-Known Christmas
Facts:

* Santa Claus hates cookies and milk.

T

* Good little boys and girls get the same
gifts as bad little boys and girls.

* On the world average, Christmas gifts
are opened twice as fast in Beirut

* Contrary to popular belief, life is not
really like the movie It's a Wonderful Life.
* A white Christmas in Colombia has an
entirely different meaning.

* Snow looks "so wonderful" on a
Christmas card when viewed on the desert.
* The fact that people of good will are
capable of bad decisions is illustrated by
the Christmas necktie.

* Christmas is a time when we pause to
reflect that we are too busy to pause and
reflect.

* The two most exciting days of
Christmas are when your relatives arrive to
spend a few days and when they go home.

Five Wishes for
1987

1. A cure for AIDS

2. A cure for herpes

3. A cure for cancer

4. A cure for terrorism
5. A cure for Ed Meese

GIFT-OPENING ETIQUETTE

Five Positive
Things to Say
About a Gift You
Hate

1. “How did you know Гуе
been wanting something to
give to disab!

2. “If you're going out,
would you mind stuffing
this beautiful gift in the
garbage?”

3. “Wow! This sure taxes
the meaning of Christmas!”
4. “Oh, this will look great
under some heavy boxes in
the garage.”

5. “Thank you very much.
Tve always wanted ап
excuse to kill you.”

led transients?”

The Five
Gift-Giving
Nevers

1. Never dare your aunt to
find the most obnoxious tie
on earth.

2. Never call Neiman-
Marcus and say, "Money is
no object."

3. Neuer spend more on

‚your ex-wife than you

would on Muammar
el-Qaddafi.

4. Never laughingly tell a
salesclerk your charge card
has been over the limit for
months.

5. Never go out at the last
possible minute and expect
to buy on layaway.

Just once Га like to hear Grandpa зау... Just once Vd like to hear Grandma say...

T'S TIME TO
GATHER ROUND
THE TREE AND
SING SOME
Оглу OSBOURNE
SONGS,

PA,ID RATHER
GATHER RODND
THE TREE AND

Christmas Around the World!
и x $

E ES

=>

What Kind of Christmas Do Terrorists Have?

Well, first of all, their Christmas
cards are slightly different... .

Five Terrorist Christmas
Nevers

1. Never give a terrorist a ski mask with an.
American flag embroidered across the face.
2. Never visit a terrorist home during the holiday

without taking your own hostages.

3. Never casually mention that your car is "packed
with goodies."

4. Never hum Born in the U.S.A. at the dinner table.
5. Never lob mortar rounds into the fireplace
unless there are at least two innocent bystanders in
the vicinity-

Terrorist children are no different
from any other children. Come Christmas morning,
they really like to “open up" the presents.

What would Christmas in
a terrorist bunker be without an old-fashioned game

of pin the dynamite on the munitions tree?

Santa Down Through the Ages. . . .

Neanderthal Santa Egyptian Santa Greek Santa
Sloping forehead. Rode in a rock Traversed the Nile in his red barge, Tall, muscular and bronzed. Slid
sled pulled by flying mammoths. throwing gifts at anyone who got in down columns to deliver olive
Most frequent gift requests: fire and his way. Is responsible for the branches and Greek sandwiches.
the wheel. timeless lyric "You better not pout,

you better not cry/ You better not
shout, I'm telling you why—King Tut
will bury you with him."

The evolution of Santa Claus (L.
homo fatis manis, “gay fat man") is
fragmentary and difficult to
reconstruct. In addition, many
aspects of Santa evolution are subject
to controversy. All objections aside,
anthro-Santists are "pretty darn sure"
about these Santa stages.

Yes, Virginia,
He's One Mean Dude. ...

Hopi Santa Spanish Santa
Early American Indian Santa rode Liked to dress up in women's
a white pony pulling a gift-laden clothing and dance on rooftops.
travois. Note Rudolph the red-nosed Contributed the stocking cap and
rattlesnake. black go-go boots to latterday Santa
wardrobe.

Modern Santa

He's back! And this year, he aims
to get even. Armed with an
intercontinental sled, complete with
radar-evading missiles and
heat-seeking reindeer, Santa plans a
major offensive this December 24.
His attack plans include thousands
of drop zones. Santa will be flying
under the code name Operation
Chimney Sweep.

It started out as the
worst Christmas I ever
had. I was skinny,
ugly, unpopular and I
didn't believe in Santa
Claus....

On Christmas
morning, everyone
in the family was
jumping around
downstairs, but not
me. I was in my
room, drawing.
Then a funny thing
happened. . . -

a

But the best was
yet to come.

hen I turned ($
around, I
couldn't
believe my

NOW, OF COURSE, YoU Y
KNOW NOME OF THIS 15
REALLY HAPPENING.

Yeah, right! I thought. Вы
as | stepped outside. . . .

THANKS, Эду;
fr
CHRISTMAS EVERI

Еа 15) В 0 (8 ANT

(continued from page 102)

“Farkas didn’t have any trouble following him. No
eyes, Juanito thought, but somehow he can see."

“Рт the best. I was born here. I know
everybody."

“Pm going to be needing the best. You
take electronic handshake?”

“Sure,” Juanito said. This was too сазу.
He wondered if he should have asked three
kilocallics a weck, but it was too late now.
He pulled his flex terminal from his tunic
pocket and slipped his fingers into it.
"Unity Callaghan Bank of Valparaiso.
Thats code twenty-two-forty-four-sixty-
six, and you may as well give it a default
key, because it's the only bank here. Ac-
count eleven thirty-three, that's mine.”

"The blind man donned his own terminal
and deftly tapped the number pad on his
wrist. Then he grasped Juanito's hand
firmly in his until the sensors overlapped
and made the transfer of funds. Juanito
touched for confirm and a bright-green
+CL 4000 lit up on the screen in his palm.
The payee's name was Victor Farkas, out
of an account in the Royal Amalgamated
Bank of Liechtenstein.

“Liechtenstein,” Juanito said. “That's
an Earth country?”

“Very small one. Between Austria and
Switzerland.”

“Dye heard of Switzerland. You live on
Liechtenstein?

“No,” Farkas said. “I bank there. In
Liechtenstein, is what Earth people say
Except for islands. Liechtenstein isn't an
island. Can we get out of this place now?"

"One more transfer," Juanito said.
“Pump your entry software across to me.
Baggage claim, passport, visa. Make
things much easier for us both, getting out
of here."

“Make it easier for you to disappear
with my suitcase, yes. And I'd never find
you again, would 1?”

“Do you think Га do that?"

“Pm more profitable to you if you
don’t.”

“You've got to trust your courier, Mr.
Farkas. Ifyou can’t trust your courier, you
can’t trust anybody at all on Valparaiso.”

"I know that,” Farkas said.

.

Collecting Farkas’ baggage and getting
him clear of the customs tank took another
half an hour and cost about 200 callies in
miscellancous bribes, which was about
standard. Everyone from the baggage-
handling androids to the cute, snotty teller
at the currency-exchange booth had to be
bought. Juanito understood that things
didn’t work that way on most worlds; but
Valparaiso, he knew, was different from
most worlds. In a place where the chief
industry was the protection of fugitives, it

made sense that the basis of the economy
would be the recycling of bribes.

Farkas didn't seem to be any sort of fu-
gitive, though. While he was waiting for
the baggage, Juanito pulled a readout on
the software that the blind man had
pumped over to him and saw that Farkas
was here on a visitor’s visa, six-week limit.
So he was a seeker, not a hider. Well, that
was OK. It was possible to turn a profit
working either side of the deal. Running
traces wasn't Juanito's usual number, but
he figured he could adapt.

The other thing that Farkas didn't seem
to be was blind. As they emerged from the
customs tank, he turned and pointed back
at the huge portrait of El Supremo and
said, "Who's that? Your president?"

“The Defender; that’s his title. The gen-
eralissimo. El Supremo, Don Eduardo Cal-
laghan." Then it sank in and Juanito said,
blinking, *Pardon me. You can see that
picture, Mr. Farkas?”

“In a manner of speaking."

“I don't follow. Can you see or can't
you?"

“Yes and no."

“Thanks a lot, Mr. Farkas.”

“We can talk more about it later,”
Farkas said.

.

Juanito always put new dinkos in the
same hotel, the San Bemardito, four
kilometers out from the hub in the rim
community of Cajamarca. “This way,” he
told Farkas. “We have to take the elevator
at C Spoke."

Farkas didn't seem to have any trouble
following him. Every now and then,
Juanito glanced back, and there was the
big man three or four paces behind him,
marching along steadily down the corri-
dor. No eyes, Juanito thought, but some-
how he can sec. He definitely can see.

"The four-kilometer elevator ride down
С Spoke to the rim was spectacular all the
way. The elevator was a glass-walled
chamber inside a glass-walled tube that
ran along the outside of the spoke, and it
let you see everything: the whole great
complex of wheels within wheels that was
the Earth-orbit artificial world of Valpa-
raiso, the seven great structural spokes
radiating from the hub to the distant wheel
of the rim, each spoke bearing its seven
glass-and-aluminum globes that contained
the residential zones and business sectors
and farmlands and recreational zones and
forest preserves. As the clevator de-
scended—the gravity rising as you went
down, climbing toward an Earth-one pull
in the rim towns—you had а view of the

sun's dazzling glint on the adjacent spokes
and an occasional glimpse of the great
blue belly of Earth filling up the sky
150,000 kilometers awav, and the twin-
kling hordes of other satellite worlds in
their nearby orbits, like a swarm of jelly-
fish dancing in a vast black ocean. That
was what everybody who came up from
Earth said: “Like jellyfish in the ocean.”
Juanito didn't understand how a fish could
be made out of jelly or how a satellite
world with seven spokes could look any-
thing like a fish of any kind, but that was
what they all said.

Farkas didn't say anything about jelly-
fish. But in some fashion or other, he did,
indeed, seem to be taking in the view. Не
stood close to the elevator’s glass wall in
deep concentration, gripping the rail, not
saying a thing. Now and then, he made a
little hissing sound as something particu-
larly awesome went by outside. Juanito
studied him with sidelong glances. What
could he possibly sec? Nothing seemed to
be moving beneath those shadowy places
where his eyes should have been. Yet
somehow he was seeing out of that broad
blank stretch of gleaming skin above his
nose. И was damned disconcerting. It was.
downright weird.

The San Bernardito gave Farkas a rim-
side room, facing the stars. Juanito paid
the hotel clerks to treat his clients right.
That was something his father had taught.
him when he was just a kid who wasn't old
enough to know a Schwarzchild singular-
ity from an ace in the hole. “Pay for what
you're going to need,” his father kept say-
ing. “Buy it and at least there's a chance
it'll be there when you have to have it.”
His father had been a revolutionary in
Central America during the time of the
Empire. He would have been prime minis-
ter if the revolution had come out the right
way. But it hadn't.

"You want me to help you unpack?"
Juanito said.

“I can manage.”

“Sure,” Juanito said.

He stood by the window, looking at the
sky. Like all the other satellite worlds, Val-
was shielded from cosmic-ray
damage and stray meteoroids by a double
shell filled with a three-meter-thick layer
of lunar slag. Rows of V-shaped apertures
ran down the outer skin of the shield, mir-
ror-faced to admit sunlight but not hard
radiation; and the hotel had lined its
rooms up so each one on this side had a
view of space through the Vs. The whole
town of Cajamarca was facing darkwise
now, and the stars were glittering fiercely.

When Juanito turned from the window,
he saw that Farkas had hung his clothes
neatly in the closet and was shav-
ing—methodically, precisely—with a lit-
tle hand-held laser.

“Can I ask you something personal?"
Juanito said

(continued on page 210)

NTH. THREE DAYS before 1 left, I

had planned to have my 15-

year-old son Ari accompany me

to a place 1 had previously vis-
ited. with his sisters and his t
brother. It was his turnto explore Haiti
with his dad and, as a drummer in a
jazz band—in fact, in two jazz hands—
he was especially interested in taping
voodoo ceremónies and Haitian per-
cussion. Other members of the family
stringently opposed the trip, hut his
desires and тте—Гт a fanatic for
Haiti—seemed to prevail. Then this
news dispatch appeared in the San
Francisco Chronicle:

“MACHETE-WIELDING PROTESTERS RUN
WILD IN HAITIS CAPITAL”

A.P, June 5, 1986—Crowds

demanded the ouster of three min-

with its future

still in limbo,

the hemisphere's
poorest country
keeps on dancing

isters and denounced alleged U.S.
pressures . . . barricades, burned
tires, smashed cars . ... machete-
wielding gangs smashing cars in
residential areas of Port-au-Prince
and demanding money from peo-
ple in the streets. . - .

At that point, I cashed in my son's
ticket. 1 would be checking up on Haiti
after Baby Doc without Ari.

On the day of my arrival, a general
strike was called by a loose alliance of
street-democrats. All work was sup-

‚posed to stop. Everything would shut

‘down. The People—that famous Peo-
ple with the capital P—would make
known its anger. But what happens
when you give a general strike and
nobody doesn't come? Well, of course,
the strikers, — (continued on page 223)

HAITI
Е
у

|
AFTER
BABY
DOC —

Ву HERBERT GOLD

ILLUSTRATION BY ROBERT GIUSTI

RIL, the Southland Corpo-
announced that its
n stores would no longer
LAYBOY. Did we get mad?
we get even? No. We got >».
! “Hey,” said Assistant
or Bruce Kluger to Manag:
Photography Editor Jeff
, “lets do a Women of

а Women of 7-Eleven pic
.” The PR Department
hed, and the press release
picked up by wire services
every town in theyU.S. Some
0 7-Eleven employees from
cross the country sent in their
ctures; we chose 13. You
why we are running this
orial; they know why we
. PLAYBOY has always admired
girl next door. And some-
es the girl next door works
the store down the street.
hold, the Women of 7-Eleven.

look whos
minding the store... |

PHOTOGRAPHY BY DAVID CHAN

omen of 7-Eleven

come to us from far

and wide. Opposite is
Michelle Fronk—one of Balti-
more's best. Also meet (clockwise
from near left) Aloro Axworthy
(California), Roweno Burger (New
Jersey), Joy McKendree (Illinois),
Angel Colbert (New York), Tanyo
Phillips (Texos). “It's not right thot
7-Eleven stopped selling тлтоү,”
says Rowena. “It's the classiest.”

though she pushes Slurpees for o living, Coliforrio's Terri Minner (obove) hos a secret pos-
sion for chocolate shokes. Yvette Mohrien (top, геог richt), from Long Islond, doesn’t wont
her dad to see her picture here. “He's never seen me nude,” she loughs. “He says, ‘But |
chonged your diopers when you were o baby.’ | soy, ‘Dod, I've chonged since then.’” Yvette
(whose deck-hockey teammates coll her Killer) disogrees with Southlond's pLarzor decision. “} don't
think it's right," she soys. “The religious groups seem to be taking over.” Shoron Gordon (top, far
right) is a mother of two from Utoh. Now o monoger with 7-Eleven, she’s aiming to be a supervi-
sor, where the “good money” is. Valora Sparks (right) is o 7-Eleven clerk from Becumont, Texos.
A red belt in korcte, Voloro is oggressive about the rLanor flop. "It's ridiculous," she comploins.

“When customers come in, | tell them, “Sorry, we don't have mogozines with beoutiful women. But
ме do hove mogozines on guns ond wor ond violence.’ Then | tell them where they con buy naveor."

allas 7-Eleven clerk Suzanne Sellers (above) appraises the censorship hassle in colorful Southern fashian: “It sucks!
тів been on the stand far years. | think 7-Eleven's just gotten uptight, cranky—you know, they got their
panties in а wad.” Below (on grass and inset) is Tonya Phillips, а part-time 7-Eleven clerk from Austin. “Those wha
want to read ruarsor are gonna read rator," says Tanya. “So they may as well be able to get it at a convenience store.”

different 7-Elevens ond see if they'll sell me beer without checking my І.О. It helps the com-

pony keep tobs on its olcohol-soles policy.” Joy McKendree (lying otop the cor) was о
7-Eleven cashier when she posed for us. Not ony more. “The job wos the pits, so | quit," she soys,
‘odding thot she hodn't been popular with her employers becouse before she left, she tried to
orgonize a coshiers' union. On censorship, she's olso outspoken: "In June, I was pulling ruvsor off
the shelves, ond in July, I wos stocking them with violent videos such as The Texos Chainsaw Massa-
cre. Kids rent thot stuff without опу I.D.” Say hello ogoin to Terri Minner (obove), our Northern
Colifornio 7-Eleven clerk, looking more relaxed here. Terri admits thot when she's not filling
her time with oerobics, she's on the prowl for “теп with smoll butts." At left, meet Angel Col-
bert, a clerk whose first name gives true meoning to the slogon "Oh, thonk heoven for 7-Eleven.

A loro Axworthy (top, for left) works in Southlond's loss-prevention deportment. "1 go into

rom Lombard, Illinois, comes
Е: McKee (for left,

above), а part-time 7-Eleven
clerk anc full-time stripper. What da
the two jabs have in cammon?
"Absolutely nothing," she says.
“Stripping poys better.” Laurie
Marie Dannahue (far left, below) is

an assistant manager at a Duluth,
Minnesota, 7-Eleven. Her arly
beef: "the rude people who scream
c! me just because they're
crabby." Finally, meet 7-Elevener
Michelle Frank (below and
right), the raincoated gal we saw
on the opening роде. For true
beauty, lack at Michelle. And far
а laugh, lack at the 7-Eleven slo-
gon on the cup she's halding.

122

AHEHE
ВЕРЕ
ашаниаа

prime time on charley's
new television set was
simply beyond belief

fiction

By Billy Crysta

our AM. Friday, and

Charley is in his usual
spot, sprawled out on the couch, watching
Canadian football on cable television. For a
long time now, Charley has looked upon tele-
vision as his companion and sometime night
light, which is why his wife, Sheilah, has
taken off with his partner, Sy, that loud and
obnoxious man who needs to trim the hair in
his ears. Charley had grown to feel more com-
fortable watching a midget rodeo on cable
than sleeping with Sheilah. (Sex is like a bull
ride, he'd say: Mount the beast until you're
turned loose, then try to stay on for one min-
ute. Time, 58 seconds.)

Now Charley sits here all day, rarely mov-
ing, staring at the set. Neighbors think he has
passed away, which more or less confirms
Sheilah's suspicions. He watches everything
over and over again. Happy Days, twice a
day; The Love Boat, from Atlanta; The Big
Valley, from Chicago; The Movie Channel,
Showtime, Z. Cable has changed his life—it
has ended it.

Friday afternoon, and a favorite episode of
Bonanza is on WGN, from Chicago. Charley
heats a can of beef stew. He likes to eat the
appropriate food for the show he is watching.
For Westerns, it is beef stew or chili. The Fugi-
five is always “just coffee.” Ball games are hot
dogs. Pernell Roberts gets off his horse.

Suddenly, the 1969 Philco dies; it sputters
and coughs and goes black. Stew dribbles out
of Charley's mouth as he runs to the aid of his
fallen friend. He cradles it in his arms as
though it were a wounded Army buddy from
War Theater.

Charley panics. His fingers move uncon-
sciously, changing (continued on page 208)

ILLUSTRATION EY PHILIPPE ВЕНА

ROCKER
DEUS

he kids of tina turner,
frank zappa, grace
slick, berry gordy,
rick nelson, carole

king, ringo starr and others talk about grow-
ing up to the sound of a different drummer

you TURN on MTV to watch Tina Turner
strut across the screen. Do images of Mom
at home in the kitchen whipping up
peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches pop
into your head? Or you catch Frank Zappa
on the news, turning surly and belligerent
at questions that displease him. Can you
imagine walking up to him and asking,
“Hey, Pop, OK if I borrow the keys to the
station wagon?"

Rock "n' roll has always been a quick es-
cape from—and sometimes for—the Ward
and June Cleavers of the world, a tempo-
rary respite from adult responsibilities and
a favorite way to fantasize about life close
to, if not on, the edge. And yet some of
those performers we watch on stage—the
ones who define the term fast lane—are
parents themselves. Just like our moms
and dads. Just like some of us.

We're not talking about the occasional
unlucky loser of a paternity suit, either.
We're talking about grown-up men and
women who have tried to have the best of

two often mutually exclusive worlds—
rock music and parenthood. And, as the
children of such people will tell you, it's
not an easy balancing act. We asked 14
kids of famous music-world figures what it
was like to grow up with a back stage
instead of a back yard, to have parents
who меге paid to act like teenagers.

CRAIG TURNER, 28, son of Tina Turner: 1
was never very musically inclined; I was
into sports. I loved listening to music, but
I never got into playing. My idols were
Jimi Hendrix, Bill Withers and, of course,
Ike and Tina Turner. I was always into the
soulful sound, but I never went to concerts
when I was young except my parents’.

My mother and stepfather were on the
road ten months out of the year. We had а
different housekeeper every year to take
care of us. So when our parents weren't
around, we had our own way. My parents
weren't very strict. Normally, we would
get a good whipping once a year. When
my stepfather (continued on page 180)

SAJ ENNIRENN

125

PHOTOGRAPHY BY
ARNY FREYTAG

or THE ladyfriend of a
heavy-metal-music man,
Laurie Carr is pretty
low key. Texas-born and
Wisconsin-raised, she lives
by the code of the heart-
land (honesty, loyalty,
family) and seems out of
place at a Ratt concert—
until she shifts into danc-
ing gear. А new model, she
has this to say about her
present Carr-eer: “РИ
think I know where my life
is going, then it'll turn 180
degrees. I was studying
commercial art in Texas
but found I didn't like its
business end. I guess Pd
had one too many account-
ing classes. 1 realized it
was time to do something
radically different. А
friend sent my pictures to
PLAYBOY, I came to Cali-
fornia, and now Pm a
model" Laurie wants to
return to her drawing table
one day. For now, commer-
cial arts loss is our gain.

The classic Carr shows off
her exiing form at left
and her boyfriend, Кай
guitarist Robbin Crosby,
at right. He toured the
globe looking for someone
like her; now they har-
monize in Los Angeles.

UNLOCKING THE
MULTIPLE MYSTERIES
OF LAURIE CARR

aurie's beau is a
Ratt. She апа Robbin
Crosby, guitarist for the
metal band its fans con-
sider more rockin” than
Dokken and motleyer than
the Crüe, met in a Fort
Worth record store, Theirs
is a less head-bangin' af-
fair than Ratt's pack of
fans might expect. “I was
a fan before I was a girl-
friend. I even knew the lyr-
ics to their songs," says
Laurie. “But our relation-
ship started after their last
world tour, so I know Rob-
bin as a person, not as a
hard rocker. At times it's
hard to do, with our sched-
ules, but what I like is
spending time together at
home.” Robbin, the Ratt
romantic, says, “Гус been
around the world, and
she’s the sweetest person
I've met. It took me a while,
but finally I found her.”
Portrait of a thoroughly
modem young couple.

“It's great to be appre-
ciated physically,” says
Laurie, who should
know, "but your looks are
just something God gave
you. I think that what
really counts is what you
do with what you've got.”

hat kind
of man appeals to this kind
of woman? He doesn't
have to be a hunk of heavy
metal, though it might
help. “I’m not tumed on
by outsides," Laurie says.
“You get tired of that
unless there is a person
inside who turns you on.”
Laurie doesn't insist on
any specific physical type
as long as the guy’s no
slouch. “I want somconc
who works hard and plays
hard. whatever he does.
“Too many people try to
find fun by going ош,
when they could find it
right at home. ГЇЇ tell you
what really turns me on.
When a man looks at me,
you know—that way—and
still secs me as an equal.
You can communicate a
lot with a look. Take my
PLAYBOY layout—it shows a
side ofme I can't express in
words. Some things just
can't be expressed." Amen.

Listen up, shy guys: “А
RO UTER
good about himself, and
that makes him. sexy. А
girl can't limit. herself —
every guy has interesting
qualities. All I want is
lo be treated as a lady.”

132

like to be stimulated
intellectually. I can't be
happy being judged solely
оп appearance,” says Miss
December. One of the keys
to knowing her is knowing
that her impulses pull her
in different directions. “In
fact, I'm modest. I never
really considered myself‘
the kind of person who'd
pose in the nude. I had
a very conservative up-
bringing. Meeting—and
liking—some Playmates
changed my ideas of right.
and wrong, and it was ex-
citing to do the layout. How
сап you know what makes
you happy until you've ex-
plored?" Artist, model, Ratt
fan and homebody, Mid-
dle American girl in L.A.,
Laurie looks to her family.
for support, if not approv-
al. "It's important to
me that they've supported
my decisions—even the
ones they don't agree with."

Laurie defines herself
thus: "Adventurous, even
daring. I'm a person who
is not afraid to accept
responsibility for herself.
and her future.” She
thinks these pictures
ought to say it all.

PLAYMATE DATA SHEET

BUST: 24 WAIST: A rs: 33 _
nich: 9 7" werc: JOB o

BIRTH рАТЕ:ё-//-@5° omma: Lables) Ta

amrrıons: JO Obata nue to Gren) and he At јал tno,
TURN-ONS: 2 2 >

cas an De Astiga алома, sata,

Dee PERFORMERS: OHT] unit А Minute A nme Caco 5

IDEAL MAN: Dach Lox ага Orta enatis he

tuata) me like a lado dit rsamesza ur йа an اقدوك‎

IDEAL EVENING: URLIA pe A PLE negat best LOTA gend

THE BEST THING ABOUT SEX IS: {Aa

PLAYBOY'S PARTY JOKES

In a new exposé titled Santa Dearest, written by a
disgruntled elf. the truth behind the legend of the
angel atop the Christmas tree has come to light.

According to the elf, things were not going well
at the North Pole. Mrs. Claus was mad at Santa,
the reindeer all had colds, the toys were packed
in the wrong order, there weren't enough Cab-
bage Patch dolls and there was a powerful head
wind from the south. Just as Santa discovered a
hole in his red suit, the littlest angel came into his
olfice with a Christmas tree

“Hey, Santa,” the angel asked, "what do you
want me to do with this?”

Show this lady the best fur coat you have,” the
well-dressed young man told the manager of an
exclusive Rodeo Drive fur salon

The furrier brought out a magnificent sable.
The woman loved it.
Excuse me, sir,” the manager discreetly
whispered. “ICs priced at $65,000.

“No problem, Let me give you a check.”

“Very good, sir,” the furrier replied. “Today is
Saturday. You may pick up the coat on Mond:
afternoon, after your check clea

On Monday, the young man went back to the
shop. “You have some nerve,” the furious furrier
said. “You don't have two cents in your checking
account. What, may I ask, are you doing here?”

“I just wanted to thank you," the man said
smiling, “for the best weekend of my life.”

At a recent Georgetown reception for a retiring
diplomat, two State Department underlings
struggled with small talk. Finally, onc asked the
other, “Tell me, Harry, what do you consider the
two most interesting topics of conversation now-
adays?"

“Sex and politics, 1 guess," Harry replied.

“I agree with you there,” said the first, nod-
ding. "What about the second topic?"

А well-tailored man walked into a brothel and
handed the madam a roll of bills. "Give me the
worst you've got,” he said.
г, for this much, you can have the very best
we've got.”

“Lady, l'm not horny, Pm homesick.”

When the man collapsed in the subway, an
ambulance was summoned and he was rushed to
nearby Mercy Hospital. It was determined that
he required coronary surgery, and he was imme-
diately wheeled into the operating room.

The procedure went well, and as the grogg
patient regained consciousness, he was reassured
by a Sister of Mercy waiting by his bed.

“Mr. Wells, you're going to be just fine,” the
nun said, patting his hand. “We do have to know,
however, how you intend to pay for your stay
here. Are you covered by insurance?”

m not, Sister,” the man whispered

“Can you pay in cash?”
“Tm afraid I can't."

“Just my sister
“but she's a spinster nun.”

“Nuns arc not spinsters, Mr. Wells,”
admonished. “They are married to God.”

“OK,” he said, managing a wan smile, “then
bill my brother-in-law.”

the nun

What are you getting so excited about, Joan?”
the husband said. “It's just a little disagree-
ment.”

“No, Ken, we're simply not compatible,” she
insisted. “I'm a Virgo and you're an asshole."

o) o"

„@@——

Times change. These days, when E. Е. Hutton
talks, he has his rights rcad to him first.

When a referee penalized Bruiser State five
yards in critical interconference game, the
incensed coach ran onto the field to protest, but
the official stuck to his position.

“You stink, ref," the coach hollered.

“Is that so?" the referee replied as he picked
up the ball and moved it 15 yards farther
downfield. “How do I smell from here?”

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

m ve
ania mite, Va MS MAMANS s S s A oa NM
м? =, MSM М М МУ ММ v чё

DEO v.

“Let's re-examine the traditional meaning of
Christmas in light of the right-wing values prevalent in society
today and whether a new rationale is needed in the
context of contemporary life in New Jersey.”

ANDITS

"DOES THIS JOB HAVE TO DO WITH
THE FUNERAL BUSINESS, ЛАСК?”
"NOT UNLESS SOMEBODY GETS SHOT”

EVERY TIME they got a call from the leper
hospital to pick up a body, Jack Delancy
would feel himsclf coming down with the
flu or something. Leo Mullen, his boss,
was finally calling it to Jack’s attention

All three times they phoned before,” Leo
said, “I seem to recall you came down
with some kind of twenty-four-hour bug
Thats all I'm saying. Am 1 right or
wrong?"

Jack said, “Have I mentioned I’m sick
or not feeling too good?”

Lco said, “Not yet you haven't. They
just called.” He picked up a plastic hose
attached to the sink and turned the water
on the body on the embalming table
“Hold this for me, will you

I can’t,” Jack said, “I’m not
licensed.”

I wont
tell on

you.
Come on,
just keep the table
nsed. Run it off from by the
incision."

Jack edged in to take the hose without
looking directly at the body. “There're
things Га rather do than handle a person
that died of leprosy.”

“Hansen's disease,” Leo said. “You
don’t die from it, you die of something
else.”

Jack said, “If I remember correctly, the
last time Carville had a body for us, you
had a removal service get it.

‘On account of 1 had three bodies in the
house already, two of 'em up here, and you
telling me how punk you feel.”

Jack said, "Hey, Leo? Bullshit. You
don’t want to (continued on page 169)

fctio By ELMORE LEONARD

ILLUSTRATION BY CHRIS VAN ALLSBURG

THE 12 STORES OF

from new york to honolulu, playboy shopped for a dozen of the niftiest presents money can buy

HONOLULU HARLEY-DAVIDSON
—_— €

Harley-Dovidson's classic FLST Heritage Softail glides again
in Eighties splendor. This reproduction af the Fifties legend
comes with 16" wheels, full-length floor boards, low-slung,
gas-charged rear shacks and o chrome harseshoe ail tank
wrapped araund a V2 Evalutian engine, abaut $9300. (Hano-
PHOTOGRAPHY BY DON AZUMA lulu Harley-Davidson Sales is located an the island of Oahu.)

CHRISTMAS

modern living

CARSON PIRIE SCOTT
Se

Panasonic's Pocket Watch LCD color TV, with a three-inch
diagonal screen, measures less than on inch from front to
back, while weighing in ot about а pound. Packet Watch
can also dauble as a color monitor for your VCR or video
camera and operates on batteries, А.С. currentara car adapt-
er, about $480. (Corson Pirie Scott is located in Chicaga.)

A block-enamel fountain pen from France, circa 1910, with
а retractable nib, $550, sits atop а boxed set of three red-
leather addressbooks obviously created for someone with
places to go and people to see. They're embossed with
HERE—U.S.A., THERE-EUROPE and ELSEWHERE—? and are hand-
madein England, $85 the set. (Asprey is located in New York.)

ASPREY
==

BULGARI
ڪڪ‎

Come Christmas morning, if the distaff recipient of this
Ialian-made 18-kt.-gald gas pocket lighter doesn't have
visians af something ather thon sugorplums dancing in her
heod, then we'd say you've been spending too much time
hanging around with elves, $1950, including a gold tool
for replocing the flint. (Bulgari is located in New York.)

Colonial Data Technalogies’ alphanumeric two-line name-
dialing phone stores as many as 200 numbers, along with
carrespanding names; ta operate, yau just type initials
or a name that appears an the screen and the phane auta-
matically places the call, $179.95. (In case you missed
Miracle on 34th Street, Macy's is lacated in New York.)

MACY'S
A]

BARNEYS NEW YORK
|

НИИ be a very merry Christmas to all when yau pour your
yuletide cup ar twa of cheer fram ane af a pair af antique
26-ounce blawn-blue-glass English decanters affixed with
sterling-silver accents stating SCOTCH and RYE. Yes, the stap-
pers are sterling silver, tao. The price far the pair—$600.
(Barneys New Yark, cbviausly, is lacated in Manhattan.)

ABSOLUTE AUDIO
= ڪڪ‎ a

MAN Audio’s MMA-1 70-wati mona-tube amplifier (top) is
a brilliant design af angles and levels that also happens to
give great saund, $4290 per pair for sterea. The MPA-1
preamp below it blends exceptional audia capabilities with
polished stainless steel and Brazilian rasewoad, abaut
$2500. (Absalute Audio is lacated in Orange, Califarnia.)

HAMMACHER SCHLEMMER
| € AAA

Aqua Skimmer, the motorized 10'x4' fibergloss water
sprite parked obove, stands reody to whisk you into o shal-
low logoon for some serious snorkeling, $1950. Not shown
is on odditional hand-held Aquo Scooter device that
will propel you olong the surface for swimming or skim-
ming, $495. (Hammacher Schlemmer is located in Chicago.)

CYCLE SMITH
AAA

Bridgestone's Blouson Bike is a three-speed eosy rider,
styled by Italian designer Giugiaro, that features a novel
cross-frame design for added stability on bike paths, а
semitronsparent chain guard and unique ronslip pedals
The frame is constructed of classic Bridgestone chrome/
moly tubing, $290. (Cycle Smithy is located in Chicago.)

The "Diving Cadillac” Entertainment Center, by 50's
AutoArt, is а custom-made component-system cabinet
trimmed with red nean and built araund on original 1959
Cadillac fin. Our $10,000 unit holds a great-sounding
component stereo system, from Pioneer, about $1440.
(The Design Exchange is located in Kansas City, Missouri.)

THE DESIGN EXCHANGE
ا‎ |

SANGER HARRIS
ڪڪ‎

The MultiVision 3.1 converts any TV to one with pic-
ture-in-picture copability and adds the sonic sock of MIS
stereo television sound. Images con be viewed an yaur large
screen with a picture inset, or you con view moving action an
the large picture ond freeze it on the small one, $499,
including remate control. (Sanger Harris is lacoted in Dallos.)

KEN HANSEN PHOTOGRAPHICS
ڪڪ ڪا‎ ==

Leica celebrates the 50th anniversary of Jesse Owens’ vic-
tory at the 1936 Berlin Olympic Games with a limited-
edition (600) commemorative 35mm comera, which
comes fitted with a 70-1 20mm zoom lens, $4950, and Leica
contributes $500 of that amount to the Jesse Owens Foun-
dotian. (Ken Hansen Photographics is located in New York.)

BEATING WALL STREET

CONFESSIONS OF AN

INSIDER

it's not surprising that stockbrokers use privileged information,
it's surprising that more of them don't get rich

article By JOHN D. SPOONER

T: Oxford Dictionary of Current Eng-
lish defines insider as “one who is in
on the secret.” In the spring of 1986,
Dennis Levine, an investment banker with
Drexel Burnham Lambert, was arrested in
New York, charged with taking more than
$12,500,000 in illegal stock-trading profits.
Weeks later, another group of young men
was charged in the so-called Yuppie case,
accused of profiting from inside informa-
tion on impending corporate mergers.
Insider trading is as old as history. We all
long to have the edge, to know what no one
else knows, to get the word dropped from
the horse's mouth. Carrier pigeons took the
word from Waterloo to London that the
Duke of Wellington had beaten Napoleon.
Did the Rothschilds short the franc and go

long the British pound? The carrier
pigeons were owned by the Rothschilds,
and the family was in the business of get-
ting the edge. Would the SEC have sen-
tenced Baron de Rothschild to Elba before
Napoleon because of the Rothschilds' Ше-
gal profits? Or is the problem a matter of
style?

One of the truths I’ve discovered is that
no one really likes Levine and his friends.
Everyone seems to wish them ill because of
their style and because of their blatant
greed.

“If nothing else, you know his handshake
is going to be clammy," a woman entrepre-
neur who loves money said about Levine. А
major villain in this scene seems to be New
York itself. Here are two opinions, one from

PLAYBOY

150

a New York investment banker, another
from a Boston manager of institutional
sales for one of the largest brokerage firms
in America.

Banker: “Levine and his crew are
secondary players, low lives in the big
leagues. What they were looking for was
for people to pay attention to them, to have
the best tables at Le Cirque, the best seats
at the Garden. The irony of it all was, if
they bragged, they were bagged, and
there’s the futility of it. Any time you fig-
ure you've got it made in New York, the
guy at the next table has got twice as much
as you. You can never play catch-up in this
town. Гуе got five mil and Im a shit heel.
But,” he added, “at least I’m an honest
shit heel.”

Institutional broker: “We've seen it all

before. In the Sixties on Wall Street, the
young gunslingers were making six figures
in their late 20s and thin! wasn't an
accident—thinking it was because they
were so goddamn smart, riding electroni
stocks with negative earnings up 20 points
а week, getting 100,000-share orders from
hedge funds at full commissions in crap.
that you couldn't find a bid for after 1969.
These kids today, the insider scammers,
have zero backbone, zero integrity. It’s as
if no one ever taught them anything. Part
of it, I think, is that it's not only insider
trading, it's an inside joke. These are
smirkers at life, these. kids, laughing up
their sleeves at the old-timers who did it
the old-fashioned wav. They feel it's the
new-boy network. They found a golden
short cut, and I think part of it is what I
call the bully theory."
"Whats the bully theory?" I asked
im.
Remember when we were kids? There
would be one bully who would not only do
bad things, he would get most of the kids
in the crowd to do bad things. Most of the
crowd was cither too scared пог to partici-
pate or too eager to be part of the group. I
had to shoplift a jackknife when I was ten
so the bully would let me join his club. I
don't know whether Dennis Levine was
the bully in this group or just the front, but
ГИ bet there's a bully mentality here
somewhere. Remember, these people аге
still children, still wet behind the ears.
Now they deserve a trip to the woodshed
or, in their case, to jail. It's not jackknives
in the five-and-ten anymore. They're little
smelly-pants mentalities іп double-
breasted suits.”

.

Can you imagine being held down by
three young bloods in minimum-security
prison while the king of your cell block is
about to penetrate your backside for the
first time, and onc of the young bloods
says, “What you in for, bro?" and you
scream out, “Insider trading"?

“Right on,” says the king of the cell
block, with exquisite timin;

This doesn't go on in minimum-security

prisons, vou say. "The only thing prison
cures is heterosexuality," my friend Serv-
ing Irving tells me, and he should know,
having done a year for mail fraud at Dan-
bury, Connecticut, at a time when
supposedly only the best people were at
Danbury: con men, ex-Cabinet members,
bigamists, bank cxaminers, commissioners
of public works. “А stiff prick has no con-
science,” Serving Irving also says with a
shrug. It was a line I first heard in high
school, but 1 thought it had to do with
drive-ins, clam rolls, chocolate shakes and
whom you took to drive-ins. Serving
Irving laughs at Levine and the insider-
trading scandals of 1986. “These are stu-
pid bastards,” he says, “even though thev
have killer black slick hair and suits from
Paul Stuart; they аге gonna sing like The
Four Freshmen [Irving's favorite group],
because this kind of person fears rear-end
invasion a whole lot more than he fears
nuclear Armageddon. I'm no gay,” he told
me, “but it got so it wasn't so bad, particu-
larly when it could get you special treat-
ment, like beef Wellington and a Barron's
on Saturday so fresh the ink would get on
your fatigues.”

Serving Irving was the first person I
ever knew who had been involved with
ider trading. He worked with me at an
investment firm long since defunct, a
casualty of the paperwork glut of the early
Seventies. when most of the well-known
brokerage companies disappeared into
shotgun merger and bankruptcy. He got
his nickname from a gimmick he had used
as a stock hustler: tennis. “If you can play
a sport like tennis or golf or squash or ride
a polo pony, you can always make a living.
Play a sport, you can be a sport." Irving
happened to be a finc club player, a natu-
ral who flattered his opponents, because
he always made them look good and he
always remembered their shots: “Remem-
ber that overhead you hit to close out the
third game, second set? Classic shot.” His
opponents loved him. and that set them up
for the clincher, which came during after-
I wouldn't tell this to every-
one," y, "but a client of mine
has a cousin who's chairman of this com-
pany over the counter. I can't tell you all
about it except that it's selling at 11 and
it's going to be taken over at 18 to 20 in the
next few months.”

I have been in the securities business for
more than 20 years. I have handled money
for several thousand people all over the
world, and 1 have never talked with any-
one, male or female, honest or dishonest,
who can resist this pitch: “I have a cousin
who's chairman of this over-the-counter
company...." They can't wait to buy.
Greed oozes out of three-piece suits, cock-
tail dresses, overalls and uniforms at
exactly the same rate, It should be a law of
physics.

Serving Irving knew how to make peo-
ple greedy, and it was simple: Do business

with him and you were in with the "in"
crowd. This secret was almost as impor-
tant as actually making money. Indeed, to
some people, it was more important.
Irving's approach to prospective clients
was simple. He would pick well-known
companies, usually on The New York
Stock Exchange, and make up a story that.
could be true under certain circumstances.
In the mid-Seventies, with stock markets
on their tails, he pushed Gillette. “Look,”
he would say. “Gillette selling in the
mid-20s is a steal. I have the word that
Unilever, the British giant, is going to
acquire them for 50. Christ, it's still cheap
at 50. You couldn't build a Gillette today
for $100 a share. The patents on Blue
Blades alone are worth more than the
stock's selling for in the open market.” Of
course, this was pure fabrication, but the
only resistance Irving ever encountered
was duc to the fact that, for most people in
the market, happiness is 1000 shares of a
three-dollar stock.

“Don't vou have anything cheaper than
?" people would ask.

“Hey,” Irving would respond. “I'm giv-
ing you a sure thing. What the hell do you.
care what price it is?

“What am 1 gonna do, buy 50 shares?
Get me a two-, threc-dollar stock and I’m
yours."

It didn't take Serving Irving long to
modify his insider stories to accommodate
the swingers who longed to tell friends that
they owned 5000 shares of Zayre at six or
Morse Shoe at five and a half or Mam-
moth Mart at four.

Even if you're a con man, when you

stray from a successful formula, you get
your ass handed to you. "If I was wrong
with Gillette," Irving mused to me, “I
couldn't be wrong Бу much, a point, two
points. No one could hang you. But with
thousands of shares of cheap stocks, every
point down would mean thousands of dol-
lars lost. Zayre went under three, ditto
Morse Shoe, and Mammoth Mart went
rinso, bankrupt, 75 cents. 1 got margin
calls and people would say, ‘Irving,
when's the deal?
‘The deal,’ Га tell them, “is probably
within three weeks. But in the meantime,
you have to come up with $6500 to support
the account."

“I don't have $6500, they would say.”

Serving Irving was living high. His com-
missions were the envy of the office, but his
stories from the inside didn't come true
soon enough to satisfy the requirements of
the Federal Reserve Board. His clients
were sold out waiting for dreams to come
true. He moved from brokerage firm to
brokerage firm, a journeyman board-room
hustler destroyed by the bear market of.
the Seventies. He went from power serves
on the tennis court to twist serves to junk
But he still made a living singing of take-
overs and inside info, until he made the

(continued on page 184)

2:

HARING
HANG-UP

НЕВЕ WE HAVE something we guarantee has
never decorated your Christmas tree
before: an exclusive work Бу contempo-
тату arts superstar grafhtist Keith
Haring. In your choice of designs: Folded
one way, it's a man happily dancing on a
box; folded another, it’s a mass of human-
ity more intimately intertwined than a
crowd in a New York subway station—
such as Haring used to decorate. Buy two
magazines and your tree can wear both
versions of the ornament; it's Haring's
way, with a little help from his friends at
PLAYBOY, of bringing joy to your world.

74egAv16 -

To assemble the ornoment: Carefully punch out on the dotted lines and open the slots.

THIS YEAR, THE PUBLIC LOVES „ pP
А GAME-SHOW HOSTESS,
А FOOTBALL HERO, A SEX

THERAPIST, A ROYAL COUPLE » Ni
AND, YES, SOME GUYS 3 EA V
AND GALS FROM HOLLYWOOD 4 | za Є 1

HOLLYWOOD'S ТОР GUN: TOM CRUISE

text by JIM HARWOOD rr {ay say something about the
sexual temperature of America in Reagan's Eighties that a fresh-
faced, wholesome blonde whose career has heretofore largely been
limited to flipping through the alphabet and identifying the loot оп
a television program should be the number-one throb in the hearts
of millions of her countrymen (and -women). But Vanna White,
hostess of Wheel of Fortune—a (text continued on page 164)

T» in Orbit

The popularity of Tom Cruise, hero of the ultrapatriotic movie Top
Gun (with Kelly McGillis, inset), and of Vanna White, apple-pie-fresh
hostess of TV's game show Wheel of Fortune (that's her poster,
inset), may symbolize sex in the Reagan era: a return to innocence.

ALL-AMERICAN GIRL: VANNA WHITE ——

№

Television—prime-time and daytime-—is home to these stellar personalities.
Romantic sparks fly when Cybill Shepherd, as Maddie Hayes, matches wits
with Bruce Willis, as David Addison, on ABC's Moonlighting every Tuesday
night. Friday evenings over at NBC, Don Johnson continues to rule the rat-
ings on Miami Vice; but fans of Kathy Shower, supermom and Playmate of
the Year, may miss her on Santa Barbara this season: She has taken off to
make films, beginning in January with Bloodhounds, opposite David Keith.

BADDEST MOMMA: GRACE JONES

SMOOTHEST SKIN: VANITY
ч Ч

SEXY SENIOR: DR. RUTH WESTHEIMER

FASTEST STARTER: WHITNEY HOUSTON

Now that one in every three
TV owners has a VCR and
more than 41,000,000 get
cable, stars multiply via
tape and satellite. Among
them: МТУ favorites Grace
Jones (here in Vamp gear),
Vanity, whose video
boosted her SKin on Skin
LP up the charts, and
Whitney Houston, whose
debut album was history's
hottest. Lifetime cable's
Good Sex! With Doctor Ruth
inspired Film Comments
editors to pose Dr. West-
heimer as a gatefold girl.

TOUGHEST MOMMA: SYBIL DANNING

BIGGEST HUNK, TAKEN: ARNOLD SCHWARZENEGGER

BIGGEST HUNK, AVAILABL

Actor/muscle man Arnold
Schwarzenegger took him-
self off the eligible list by
marrying Maria Shriver but
was replaced by Dolph
Lundgren, whose engage-
ment to Grace Jones fiz-
zled. Arnold's latest were
Commando and Raw Deal;
Dolph's next film is Mas-
ters of the Universe. Sybil
Danning, the macha warden
of Reform School Girls, also
hosts her own Adventure
Video movie series. “| show
that women can be intelli-
gent, beautiful and physi-
cally powerful,’ she says.

FOOTBALL HERO: JIM MC MAHON
BELLE OF THE BALL: MARLA COLLINS

The Bears' bad boy, Super
Bowl champion quarter-
back Jim McMahon, may
play around on the field, but
he says the only key to this.
strategically placed padlock
belongs to his wife, Nancy.
Cubs ball girl Marla Collins
was booted by management.
harrumphers after she
bared all for a September
PLAYBOY layout. But Marla's
faithful fans, who had
caught her on cablecasts
from Chicago's Wrigley
Field, pitched in with job
offers. Shapely Heather
Thomas has gone from
being The Fall Guy's stunt-
woman side-kick and а
commercial spokesperson
for a chain of health clubs
to making. movies
(Deathstone, Cyclone).

FIT & FEMININE: HEATHER THOMAS

C Girls

A $100,000 prize was June 1985 Playmate
Devin DeVasquez' reward as Star Search's
champion spokesmodel. Also winners: this.
month's cover girl and Hollywood's Brenda
Starr, Brooke Shields; last month's Playboy
Gallery girl, Paulina Porizkova, a regular in
Sports Illustrated's annual swimsuit issue.

MOST CONTROVERSIAL COUPLE:
MADONNA AND SEAN PENN

Rock-'em Madonna and ѕоск-ет Sean
Penn can't help making news, from art
class to courtroom to concert stage to
mixed reviews for their new film, Shang-
hai Surprise. Puwsov pictorial subject
Brigitte Nielsen won Sylvester Stallone
and roles in his movies Rocky IV and
Cobra. But the courtship that really
hooked celebrity watchers around the
world was that of H.R.H. Prince Andrew,

the duke of York, and his new duchess,
the former Sarah Margaret Ferguson.

MOST MACHO COUPLE:

MOST ROMANTIC COUPLE:
THE DUKE AND DUCHESS OF YORK

E

More overtly sexual in their appeal than
either Cruise or White are Bruce Willis and
Kim Basinger, who'll be teamed after
Christmas in Blake Edwards’ Blind Date
(inset, opposite page). Willis is best known
as Cybill Shepherd's partner in Moonlight-
ing (inset, this page); Basinger has made
four films in little more than a year, with
Fool for Love and 9/2 Weeks already out,
No Mercy, with Richard Gere, due soon.

Keep an eye on Kelly McGillis, who made
her mark opposite Harrison Ford in 1985's
Witness and scored again this year as
Cruise's lady in Top Gun, and on Rob Lowe,
who recovered handily from two flabby
sports films (Oxford Blues and Young-
blood) with a hit in About Last Night. . . .

C
`

WE
т

WOMAN IN DEMAND: КІМ BASINGER

PLAYBOY

syndicated game show seen daily by some
43,000,000 people, including Mick Jagger
and Armand Hommer—has become just
that. In other ycars, a woman who qual-
ified as a sex star was likely to have a
steamier image—sleeping with rock musi-
cians or flashing in discos, say—but mid-
way through this decade, times have
changed, which is a nice way of saying that
nobody's getting any without a great deal
of difficulty. Anything beyond the mission-
ary position, and that only with a partner
certified celibate for the past five years, is
suspect. What better era could there be Гог
Vanna's white-bread appeal?

Even she remains puzzled by her sud-
den celebrity, which includes an estimated
1000-plus fan letters per week. a best-sell-
ing poster, magazine covers and countless
demands to appear on talk shows (where
she's just as unprovocative as on Wheel of
Fortune). She's even writing a book with
pop-celebrity co-author Bart Andrews.

Equally squcaky clean is this ycar's hot-
test young man, Tom Cruise, who docsn't
even do posters. After barring photogra-
phers from the set during his bare-chested
scenes, Cruise insisted that the sweating
male bodics exercising in Top Gun had lit-
tle to do with the success of the picture,
preferring to think that the heavy-breath-
ing ladies in the audience had taken a sud-
den interest in aviation.

Secking the truth on behalf of her female

friends, L.A. Times writer Pat Broeske re-
turned from a Cruise interview with a dis-
appointing assessment. "Let's set the
record straight: Movies do magical things.
You can't always believe what you see. Не
may be playing a masterful, macho part on
the screen; but in person, he's not much
different from a kid sister's boyfriend.
In Real Life, Cruise comes across as a
nice, well-spoken and (dare I say it?)
cute 24-year-old—who could play much
younger.” To Broeske, Cruise disclosed
the shattering news that he had been much
offended by the nudity and bad language
in one of his earlier teen films, Losin’ It.

Unquestionably, these people don't
agree with Woody Allen, who, when asked
“Is sex dirty?” replied, “If you do it right,
itis.”

As noted in earlier installments of Sex
Stars, marriage and babies are on the up-
swing among newly conservative celebri-
tics. Sean and Madonna Penn, а madcap
couple, indeed, have been wed more than
a year now, suffering month to month
through rumors of impending divorce and/
or pregnancy, none of which has proved
true. As Sean fought photogs and Ma-
donna made herself over into a Marilyn
Monroe look-alike. the world press spent
millions of words trying to capture the
essence of their appeal. But the liveliest
description may have come from an un-
likely source: Sylvester Stallone's 64-year-
old mother, Jackie, who encountered the
Penns in a restaurant. “The worst ratty-

looking couple came in," Mom recalled.
“She looked like she needed a bath and a
flea dip—both of them did. Her clothes
were shabby and she had no make-up.
Madonna doesn’t have much to start
with—her features are average.”

Mother Stallone’s point was that her
equally famous son always takes the trou-
ble to dress up in public, owning hundreds
of suits to choose from. His bride, Brigitte
Nielsen, looks equally good undressed, as
two PLAYBOY pictorials have demonstrated.
Actually, the Stallones met when she was
in New York shooting her first PLavoy lay-
out, published in September 1985.

"The couple who drew the most fanfare
this year attracted world-wide coverage for
a royal wedding. Prince Andrew and his
bride, Sarah Margaret "Fergie" Ferguson,
arrived at the altar with a little less star
dust than did Prince Charles and his lovely
Di five years ago. Andy, of course, had al-
ready earned some notoriety via his well-
publicized exploits with soft-porn actress
Koo Stark and sexy distraction Vicki Hodge,
among others his mother, Queen Elizabeth
M, was not disposed to accept. Fergie's
romantic past was also а bit morc eventful
than her close chum Di’s, having included
live-in businessman Kim Smith-Binghom and
car racer Poddy McNolly. But royalty buffs
everywhere seemed more interested in the
issue of the robust Ferguson's waistline
than in that of her chastity. For many, that
just made the Cinderella story more won-
derful. 105 one thing for a commoner to
catch a prince; it’s even better to do it
without dieting.

Close to home, America's unofficial
royal family had two weddings, as Caroline
Kennedy (daughter of the late John F. and
Jackie О.) married Edwin Schlossberg and
J.F.K.'s niece, CBS Morning Newscaster
Maria Shriver, married Hollywood muscle
man Arnold Schwarzenegger. At first, it was
a bicoastal marriage for the Schwar-
zeneggers, with her working in the East
and him in the West. According to Arnold,
this required a lot of "over-the-phone
After the Morning News pink-slipped
„ however, she joined NBC as a news
correspondent in L.A.

Another favored bachelor, Tony Danza of
television's Who's the Boss?, abandoned the
field with a marriage to interior designer
Tracy Robinson—but not without taking to
another ficld for a Saturday-morning soft-
ball game on his wedding day, pitching his
team to a 10-4 victory. Among the roman-
tic losers for his attention was former
Playboy Bunny Sandi Lee, who moaned, “I
would have married him in a second, and
Pm not that easily persuaded. Tracy must
be perfect..."

Elsewhere on the orange-blossom spe-
cial, Tatum O'Neal finally wed tennis star
Jahn McEnroe, regularizing the home life of
their infant son, while dad Ryan O'Neal
remained matrimonially undccided about
Farrah Fowcett and their young lad. Don

Johnson and Patti D'Arbonville seem to have
decided to remain single parents of their
son, Jesse. Don’s keeping company with
18-year-old model Donya Fiarentino when
he isn't appearing on magazine covers pro-
moting Miami Vice or his new album,
Heartbeat. Debra Winger wed actor Timothy
Hutton while they were filming Made in
Heaven, ending her long romance with Ne-
braska governor Bab Kerrey. But the good-
natured gov, who jokes about a partially
artificial leg left over from Vietnam, had to
agree with Statehouse wags who noted
that, for a while, at least, Winger “had
swept him off his foot.”

Others were equally sanguine about
their breakups. After a bitter divorce and
custody fight, Lorenzo Lamas and ex-wife
Michele are often now seen hand in hand
with their two children, and chums insist
that “they are friendlier now than when
they were married.” Janet Jackson and
James DeBorge are still seen cuddling even
though their cight-month marriage was
annulled at the urging of her record com-
pany, which saw their elopement as a
threat to Jackson’s “teen idol” status. All
of this, DeBarge has said, leaves him "very
confused” —understandably

As for Janet’s brother Michael, people
stopped talking about his resemblance to
Diona Ross after she married Norwegian
millionaire Arne Naess, Jr., but Michacl's
feminine features continued to cause
confusion elsewhere. Even though Aliens

(concluded on page 246)

THE PLAYBOY GALLERY

Our foldout photo this month features lus-
cious Carrie Leigh, by now well known
across America as the first lady of Playboy
Mansion West. Ever since we published
our July 1986 pictorial of her, readers
have been writing to us to request
another look at the lady who makes Hef
feel even more like a king. To satisfy her
fans, we present, once more, all of
Carrie—and that’s а lot of woman. The
shot is by Phillip Dixon. Another very sexy
woman, in her own way, is one of our
favorite illustrators, Olivia De Berardinis,
who painted the naughty but cute picture
on the other side of our foldout. Olivia has
her own line of greeting cards, and this is
one of 12 illustrations she uses for her
‚Christmas selections. When we asked her
to interpret the goings on with the wee
people, she explained, “It's Mrs. Claus
making the elves happy while Santa
attends to business elsewhere." After all,
а guy can't be expected to build Erector
sets all day without some relief. Olivia's
catalog is available for two dollars from
the O Card Corporation, P.O. Box 541,
Midtown Station, New York, New York
10018. Andremember: f youfind any manu-
facturing flaws in your Christmas pres-
ents this yeor, it isn't Mrs. Claus's foult.

2
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=
©)
2
д
=
са
E

BANDITS (continued from page 141)

“This Sister Lucy didn't look anything like a nun; she
was wearing about $300 worth of clothes."

touch a dead leper any more "n Ido."

Jack Delaney could talk this way to his
boss because they were pretty good friends
and because Leo was his brother-in-law.

Jack sighed. “ОК. ГИ go to Carville
tomorrow."

"There's somebody wants to go with
you to pick up the body," Lco said. “You
don't mind, do you? Have some com-
pany?”

“Aw, shit, Leo. You know I can’t talk to
relatives, they're in that state. You're ask-
g me to drive a hundred and fifty miles
up and back, my head aching trying to
think of words of consolation, Jesus, never
smiling... . Shit, Leo.”

“You through?" Leo asked. “The one
that's going with you isn't a relative, it's a
sister, a nun, who knew the deceased when
she was in Nicaragua and, I think,
brought her up here for treatment.”

“The one I’m picking up is a nun? The
dead one?”

“Look,” Leo said. “The deceased is a
young Nicaraguan woman, twenty-three
years old. I wrote her name down; it’s on
the desk in the office. Also the name of the
person that’s going with you, a Sister
Lucy. OK? You pick up Sister Lucy at the
Holy Family Mission on Camp S
tomorrow, onc o'clock. It’s near Julia.”

“The soup kitchen.”

That's the place. She'll be waiting for
you.”

Jack nodded, picturing the wip. “We
run out of conversation, we'll say a
Rosary.”

б

The bums in front of New Or Holy
nting in the sunlight, shading
S; j, it’s the undertaker
man. Who d ed? That ain't for me, is it? I
ain't dead yet. Get outa here with that
thing, Jesus. Come back afterwhile. Hey,
buddy, come back after we've et. They
said, Here's one good as dead. Here, take
this guy. Jack told them not to touch
the hearse. Keep away from it, OK? He
walked through them in his navy-blue suit,
white shirt and striped tie, sunglasses,
nodding with a faint smile, careful to
breathe through his mouth. He got inside
the storefront mission with only a couple of
them brushing against him.

There were bums hunched over shoul-
der to shoulder along two rows of tables
that rcached to the serving counter, where
a pair of round, gray-haired ladies wearing
glasses and white aprons were dishing out
the meal. Jack said to a little colored guy
in bib overalls and an less tweed coat
too big for him, “WI hich one’s Sister Lu

The man turned all the way around and
pointed to the line approaching the serving
counter. “She right there. See?”

Jack saw a slim young woman with dark
hair brushed behind her ear in profile. He
took off his sunglasses. Saw she was wear-
ing a beige double-breasted jacket, high
styled, made of linen or fine cotton, mov-
ing down a line of skid-row derclicis,
touching them. This was a nun wearing
pressed Calvins, a straw bag hanging from
her shoulder, long, slim legs that seemed.
longer in plain tan heels. Across the room
in a bare, whitewashed soup kitchen —
look at that. Touching them, touching
their arms beneath layers of clothes they
lived in, taking their hands in hers, talking
to them. ...

She came over with calm eyes to take his
clean hand and he said, "Sister? Jack
Delancy, Pm with Mullen's." And was
surprised again to fcel calluses that didu't
go with the stylish look.

Though her face did. Her face startled
him. The slender, delicate nose, dark hair
brushed back though it lay on her fore-
head, deep-blue eyes looking up at him.
She was small up close and now that sur-
prised him; only about 5'3", he decided,
without the heels. She said, “Lucy
Nichols, Jack. I'm ready if you are.”

The derelicts outside told her not to go
with him, Stay outa that thing, Sister,
That's a one-way ride, Sister. Hey, Sister,
you looking good. She smiled at them, put
a hand on her hip and let her shoulders go
slack, like a fashion model. “Not bad,
huh? You like it?” She stopped to look over
the hearse, then at Jack and said, "You
know what? Гус always wanted to drive
one of these.”

She blew the horn pulling away and the
bums sunning themselves on Camp Street
waved.

.

“You can handle it all right?”

“This is a pleasure. 1 used to drive a
ton-and-a-half truck with broken springs.
Last month, when we had to leave in a
hurry, I managed to buy a Volkswagen in
Lcón and drove it all the way to Cozumel.
"That was a trip.

Jack had to think a minute. But it didn't
do any good. “You drove from where?”

“From León, in Nicaragua, through
Honduras to Guatemala. We wore what
passed for habits and had papers saying
we were going to the Maryknoll language
school in Huchuctenango. Then wc had to
scrounge more papers to get us into Mex-
ico. After that it was fairly casy, from
Cozumel to New Orleans and then to Car-

ville. We could have flown out of Managua
10 Mexico City, but it scemed risky at the
time, waiting around the airport. That
feeling you shouldn't be standing still. My
one concern was to get Amelita out of
there, fast, and continue her therapy. You
know she’s the one we're picking up.”

Jack said, “Oh.” The one they were
picking up. Kind of an offhand way to
refer to the deceased. But that was the
name Leo had written down, Amelita
Sosa

She said, “You don't know how much 1
appreciate what you're doi

He kept quiet. What was he doing? His
job. Then looked out the window, trying to
think of nun-related things to talk about

had sisters all the way through grade
school."

She said, “You did?"

“At Incarnate Word. Then I went to
Jesuit High.” Hearing himself, he thought
it sounded like he was still going there. “I
but I didn't know
what to take, I mean that would help me.
So I left."

She said, “I did the same thing. Spent a
year at Newcomb.”

“Is that righ?" He felt a litle better.

This Sister Lucy didn't look anything
like а nun; she looked rich. She had on а
loose beige-and-white-striped blouse, like
а T-shirt, underneath the linen jacket. She
was wearing. he decided, about $300
worth of clothes. He wanted to ask her
why she had become a nun.
thinking at when she
and said, “How do you
босо то be in the funeral business?”

“I'm not, really. Pm helping out my

r-in-law for a while. My sister's hus-

“What would you rather do?”

Jack edged up a little straighter. “That's
a hard one. There isn't much I’ve done |
cared for, or wouldn't bore you to tears.”
He pauscd, at first wondcı if he should
tell her, then wanting to for some reason,
and said, “Except for a profession 1 got
into after "Tulane. There was sure nothing
boring about it.”
She kept her eyes on the road.
was that?"

“I was a jewel thief.

Now she looked at him. Jack w:
He nodded, resigned, weary, but with a
nice gı

“You broke into people's homes?”

“Hotel rooms. But I never broke
used a key.”

There was a silence in the hearse а
passed a sei

“What

she
er at 70 miles an hour.
“А jewel thief. You mean you only stole

jewelry?

Other girls, wide-eyed, had never asked
that. They'd get squirm id want to
know if he was scared and if the people
ever woke up and saw him. He said, “I'd
take cash if | was tempted. If it was sitting

(continued on page 196)

163

SCULPTURE BY DDN BAUM

can we have sex
with whomever we want
ihe way we want it?
ihe supreme court says no

article

By Former Attorney General

RAMEY CLARK

HOW SECURE is freedom in America? On th
eve of the 200th anniversary of our Cons
tution, the U.S. Supreme Court hi
decided, in Bowers vs. Hardwick, that any
American can be prosecuted under a

ute providing a maximum penalty of 20
years in prison for engaging in “any sexual
act involving the sex organs of one person
and the mouth or anus of another." Nei-
ther married couples nor any other con-
senting adults have a “fundamental right”
to have oral (continued on page 238)

o By Ralph Bruno
> © MAXIMUM
> — "S STATE ACTIVITIES GOVERNED BY STATUTE PENALTY
Ss
a Alabama Sexual misconduct—oral or anal sex with person other than spouse | 1 yr.
à Arizona Living in a state of open and notorious cohabitation 30 days and/or |.
= $500 =
Infamous crime against nature 30 days and/or
2 [Performing] іп an unnatural manner any lewd and lascivious act $500 Н 222227
Y Arkansas Oral or anal sex or penetration of the anus or vagina by any body | 1 yr. and/or 97)

part with person of the same sex

$1000

э en و‎

Nee District of Oral or anal sex or carnal copulation in an opening of the body 40 yrs. or $4000 <Q
(= Columbia other than the sexual parts i

۳ فر‎ Fornication by any unmarried man or woman 6 mos. and/or
к $300

3 E Florida Lewd and lascivious association and cohabitation by any man ог | 60 days and/or
| <> woman not married to each other $500
۳ Unnatural and lascivious act 60 days and/or
= $500
TS) Georgia Sodomy—oral or anal sex 20 yrs.

Unmarried person's engaging in sexual intercourse (including con-
sensual sodomy) with another

"| Idaho Sexual intercourse by unmarried person with unmarried person of
mer the opposite sex. Man and woman, not married to each other,
TA cohabiting as man and wife or lewdly and notoriously associating

E P. Infamous crime against nature
Illinois Cohabitation or sexual intercourse if open and notorious

Oral or anal copulation (including use ofan object or other body
part) with person of same sex

42 mos. and/or
$1000

6 mos. and/or

$300

МІТ. 5 yrs.

6 mos. or $500 |

6 mos. and/or
$1000

AÛ

p Kentucky Deviate sexual intercourse—oral or anal sex with person of the
same sex
9 Louisiana Unnatural carnal copulation 5 yrs. and/or
| em 2000
а Maryland Sodomy 40 yrs. р
d << Oral or anal intercourse or any other unnatural or perverted sex 10 yrs. and/or PAS

practice $1000 vw

Massachusetts | Lewd and lascivious cohabitation by any man or woman по! mar- | 3 mos. or
ried to each other $300 |

Michigan Lewd and lascivious cohabitation by any man or woman not mar- 4 уг. and/or >
ried to each other $500 tape

Abominable and detestable crime against nature
An act of gross indecency

Sodomy—oral or anal carnal knowledge

Minnesota

Sexual intercourse by any man and a single woman

45 yrs. or $2500
5 yrs.
4 yr. and/or
$3000

90 days and/or %
$700

Mississippi

Any unlawful cohabitation or habitual sexual intercourse by a man
ога woman

6 mos. or $500

Mississippi
(contd,)

ACTIVITIES GOVERNED BY STATUTE

Any sexual intercourse by a teacher with a pupil (under 48) or a
guardian with a ward

Unnatural intercourse—detestable and abominable crime against
nature

Missouri

Sexual misconduct—deviate sexual intercourse (oral, anal or man-
ual) with person of the same sex

Montana

Nevada

Deviate sexual conduct—sexual contact or intercourse with per-
son of the same sex

MAXIMUM
PENALTY

6 mos. or $500

40 yrs.

4 yr. and $1000

40 yrs. and/or
$50,000

Infamous crime against nature —anal intercourse, cunnilingus or
fellatio between same sex

North
Carolina

Lewd and lascivious association, bedding and cohabitation (must
be habitual) by any man or woman not married to each other

Any man and woman falsely registering as husband and wife in a
place of public accommodation

Crime against nature

6 yrs./N.LT. 4 yr.

6 mos. and/or

$500

6 mos. and/or
$500

40 yrs.

North Dakota

Oklahoma

Engaging in a sexual act in a public place

Living openly and notoriously with a member of the opposite sex
as a married couple without being married to each other

Detestable and abomincble crime against nature

Rhode Island

South
Carolina

Tennessee

Abominable and detestable crime against nature
Fornication by any person

Unmarried man or woman's living together or having habitual car-
nal intercourse without living together

Abominable crime of buggery

4 yr. and/or
$4000

30 days and/or
$500

40 yrs.

20 yrsJN.LT.7 yrs.
$10

4 уг. and/or
$500

5 yrs. and/or

$500

Crime against nature

Texas

Virginia

Homosexual conduct—deviate sexual intercourse (oral or anal)
with person of same sex

Sodomy—oral or anal intercourse with person other than spouse
Sexual intercourse by any unmarried person

Sexual intercourse by any unmarried person

Crimes against nature—carnal knowledge of any person by the
anus or by or with the mouth

45 yrs.
$200

6 mos. or $299
6 mos. or $299
$100

5 yrs. or $4000

West Virginia

Fornication
Lewd and lascivious cohabitation by any persons not married to
each other

KEY: N.LT.—Not less than

МАТ. $20

6 mos. or МЕТ.
$50

JUST A FLING? LOOK FOR THE RING

You can be arrested for committing adultery in Alaska, Arizona, Colorado, Connecticut, District
of Columbia, Florida, Georgia, Idaho, Illinois, Kansas, Maryland, Massachusetts, Michigan, Minne-

sota, Mississippi, Nebraska, New Hamp:

Rhode Island, South Carolina, Utah, Virginia, West Virginia and Wisconsin.

, New York, North Carolina, North Dakota, Oklahoma,

behind every successful monster, there's a woman

Like all harror-mavie heroines, Barbara Cramptan, 27, never knows what she's getting into. Is she merely
а demure scientist (left), or could her unusucl leisure-time reoding habits (above) foretell something?

HEN Barbara Crampton landed the role of Megan Halsey in Re-Animator, last year's
surprise horror hit, she had little idea it would become a cult classic. “We thought it
would be either a hit or a piece of junk,” she recalls. “We only knew that it was
funny." Later, when it hit the theaters, Re-Animator—bascd on an Н. P. Lovecraft
story—garnered the type of rave reviews even experienced moviemakers dream of.

PHOTOGRAPHY BY RICHARD FEGLEY

15

or instance, the Los Angeles
Times called Re-Animator “sim-

ply the best, fimnicst Grand

ol horror picture to come

in ages." Even The Neu

nicky Pauline Kacl was

impressed, both by the movie and by
its fe le lead. Barbara Crampton,
who's creamy pink all over, is at her

loveliest when she's being defiled,” she
gushed. Naturally, i iate plans
were made to reteam Crampton with
much of the cast and crew for a
cinematic effort called From B

In horror films, some of the chorocters are
even slimier than agents. When Borboro's on
© set, it’s a case of becuty and the beosts.

L

irector Stuart Gordon, who
headed Chicago's Organic The
ater before taking off to make
films, shot From Beyond in
Italy. So Barbara got to spend
d nearly three months in Rome

Her character, a repressed psychiatrist

who gets in touch with her sensual needs
at inopportune—and — gruesor
moments, departure: “She
really lets go—violently.” But can
‘om Beyond live up to Re-Animator's
romise? “It’s different,” Barbara say
But yowll laugh when you sce it."

Must all horror shows be rocky? Is the com-
pony Borboro keeps hoving on odd effect
on her? Not unless she gets cold feet.

PLAYHBO!Y

180

ROCK BRAUS О

“My first word was werp—the sound the music makes
when it's going backward through the tape systems."

came home, it was either to spank us or to
rest up for two days.

Му mother was concerned about the
usual things: having us eat the right food,
making surc we ate together every day at
the same time and making us watch our
language. She talked regularly with our
teache

When my mother and stepfather were
going through their divorce in 1976, we all
went our own ways. I went into the Navy
for four y: Му mother didn't want mc
to go in at all, but it was good for me. 1
had taken a lot of things for granted,
because everything had been given to me.
Now Pm a junior agent in the music
department of Triad Artists and Im train-
ing to be an agent. If worst comes to worst,
ГИ say, “Hi, my name is Craig Turner.
Му mother is Tina." That may open the
door. But Em reserved about that. I usu-
ally don't tell people who my mother is.

.

CHINA KANTNER, 15. daughter of Grace
Slick and Раш Kantner (The Jellerson
Airplane and Jefferson Starship): My par
ents never named me god. There's abso-
lutely no truth to that story at all. Here’
what really happened:

My mom was in thc hospital where she
had just had me, and a real sugary-swect
nurse walked in and asked, “What did you
decide to name your sweet little baby?

My mom said, “We're naming it god—
only we're spelling it with а small g to Бе
humble.” The nurse ran off and told Herb,
Caen, and he put it in his column. М.
mom was just joking. Lots of times, she's
wery sarcastic—more so when she was
drinking than now—and blurts things out.
Some pcople get the joke and some don't.

Until I was about four, I lived with my
mom and dad. Then my mom left and
married Skip Johnson, She and my dad
had never been married, so there was no
divorce. Since then, Гус lived one week
with my mom and one weck with my dad.

Sometimes I got bored with al! the rock
concerts I went to while I was growing up.
But it also felt exciting to see 12,000 people
in the audience, happy and having а good
time watching my parents. I
wanted real badly to do what they were
doing. Even when I was seven, I would
run on stage for encores and stuff, I've
always wanted to sing or be in some phase
of the busine is, like acting or modeling. In
sixth and seventh grades, I was a Cyndi
Lauper clone. Then, when I started notic-
ing guys, I started thinking more about
the way I looked and less about school-
work, and my grades started dropp
When I got to high school, I was cutting

always

ses and my grades dropped more. But
this year, I'm a sophomore, and I think
Гуе improved my attitude. I'm trying to
get good grades.

I take after my mom more than my dad.
I get my personality, my sarcastic humor,
my swe ng from my mom. Гуе got my
тот” body.

Me and my mom are best friends. We
even share clothes all the time and have
the exact same taste, We get into big fights
about once every six months—hardly
And I love her more than anything.
We always go around together. But she
also likes to be alone, reading and stuff. I
can't sit still. I have the attention span of a
eni So I sit and watch MTV 20 hours a

day. I love MTV.

I don't have any idols, but I used to like
Madonna. I still like her, but for about a
seventh grade, I worshiped her.
Now I’m getting to the point where I want
to be myself. But back then, I dressed like
her and even won a Madonna look-alike
contest at a shopping center. I did all
the stupid Madonna moves, even rolling
on the ground

What about drugs? My mom told me
she had fun in the Sixties and told me all
about the dope thing. But she was never a
hippie, even though people classified her
as a hippie. She didn't make her own
bread and she was always а real clean per-
son. She did use a lot of drugs. But seeing
her use drugs didn't affect me as much
as knowing about all those people who
died of overdoses—Jim Morrison, Jim
Hendrix, Janis Joplin. I want to sing and
do something with my life. I don't care if
other people do it. But I think drugs аге
stupid; they make me do stupid things.

For a time, | had hair down to my waist.
"Then I chopped it off on onc side and
shaved it so I could spike it. It's taking a
long time to grow out. My mother didn't
mind. "There's no way in the world I could
actually shock her. Let me ask her. [Panse
while she confers with Grace Slick] She said
I could shock her by getting straight A's.

.

MOON UNIT, 19, and DWEEZIL ZAPPA, 17,
daughter and son of Frank Zappa.

Moon Unit What were my parents
doing when I was born? My father was
either on or getting ready to go on a tour,
and my mother was moving furniture.
They were married 14 days before I was
born. 1 thought that was pretty funny.
Then there's my name— I'm told it was а
tossup between that and Motor Head. І
am only too grateful they went with Moon
Unit. Luckily, Гуе got a sense of humor
about the whole thing.

I don't remember the first time I saw my
father perform. 1 just remember once that
my dad's bodyguard came up and told u:
we couldn't sit on stage. Then he found
out who we were and said it was OK. We
always sat on boxes off ta the side of the
stage. Apparently, my first word was
werp—that’s the sound the music makes
when it's going backward through the tape
systems,

My musical education began at six,
be younger, when I was forced to take
piano lessons. I couldn't get into it, "cause
1 have no patience. At nine, I wanted to
play the harp, so my parents got me an
Irish harp and 1 took lessons. That lasted
about a усаг. | listened to anything I
wanted to. I could go to any kind of musi
cal concert I wanted to see. My father
encouraged me to appreciate music of all
kinds. He has an unbelievable record
collection—R&B, classical, jazz, you
name it.

We pretty much do our own thing in this
housc. Our family never sits together and
cats dinner. Maybe for a couple of
Thanksgivings we sat together for ten min-
utes, That family togetherness was some-
thing [ sometimes wanted when I was
И my friends had
very family-oriented families who were
always doing things like taking whirlpool
baths together. But if my family ever did
that, it would be a disaster. My little
brother would probably pee in the
water—not because he had to but as a.
joke—and there would be a million argu-
ments between Ahmet and Diva, the two
younger kids. So it’s probably a good thin
we don’t.

It would be pretty hard to shock my
parents, believe me. Nothing would scare
my parents except, probably, religion. If 1
became a born-again Christian, I would
be disowned. Don't panic. I have no inten-
tion of becoming one.

What would scare them the second most
would be if I had а date. 1 scare so mai
guys away that if they saw one stay more
than ten or 15 minutes, it would probably
put them into a frenzy.

Гус always been pretty protective of
Dweezil; but now our roles are reversed.
He dates more than I do—not by ту
choice—and he's like an older brother
would be. We've always been pretty close.
He's probably my best friend.

My parents aren't real restrictive, but
my father likes to meet all my friends and
know what Im up to. He wants to know
that my values are not totally screwed up.
He was excited to know, for instance, that
I voted in the last election. He didn't real-
ly give me any resistance about quitting
high school. I pretty much outgrew high
school. I wasn't there for the social life. By
then, I had started thinking about a carcer
and my long-term goals.

If anything, my parents have encour-
aged all of us to be our own person, to do

(continued on page 192)

has lost a lot of talent!”

“Get a doctor in

ESI

20 QUESTIONS: КОКО

our favorite animal to go ape over sign language
tells us what it's like to have hands on her feet and why her
friend michael is the gorilla of her dreams

К” is the most celebrated gorilla in the
world, and for good reason. She is the
first gorilla that can use a human language.
Dr. Penny Patterson has been. her teacher
since Koko's birth and is the director of The
Gorilla Foundation in Woodside, California,
where Koko now lives.

Robert Crane interviewed Koko, with Dr.
Palterson acting as interpreter. He reports,
"Koko, 15 years old and 230 pounds, sat
poised and ready in her open-air living area.
She looked me in the eye and, using American
Sign Language, commanded, ‘Shou: me your
teeth," which I respectfully did. She was
delighted by the enormous amount of gold
and silver in my mouth. Her mate, Michael,
13 and 350 pounds, who shares quarters
with her, never looked me in the eye
something to do with the fact that I was a
stranger and a male.

"Koko and. Michael, who have an occa-
sional spat, are, for the most part, nonaggres-
sive. They are the subjects of an ongoing
study by the foundation's research. team.
[Donations are welcome. Write to The Gorilla.
Foundation, P.O. Box 620-530, Woodside,
California 94062.] Both gorillas seem happy
and, in Kokos, case, willing to deal with
media attention.”

good.
5

тлүвоү: What is the most fun to do?
коко: Please eat. Please ear.

3.

PLAYBOY: What makes you happy?
коко: [Slaps her chest] Gorilla Koko love
good. Koko love good fake tooth. [Fake
tooth is Koko's sign for a gold dental cap or
croun.] Feel Devil know. Gorilla polite

happy Koko.

4.

PLAYBOY: Do you think Michael is cute?
коко: Cute [signed with two hands for em-
phasis equaling very cute] sweet good.

5.
PLAYBOY: What's better than bananas?

KOKO: Corn.

PHOTOGRAPHY BY OR. RON CORN.

6.

PLAY: What's the difference between
boys and girls?

коко: Corn there [points toward floor}
good. [Koko gets corn, because her floor is
clean. Michael doesn't, because his is dirty.
The morning before the interview took place,
Michael hadn't received a сот treat, because
he had urinated on the floor. The gorillas are
toilet trained.) Girl people. [Koko thinks of
herself as а person and of Michael as an
animal.)

7.

PLAYBOY: Which sex smells better?
коко: Girl girl.

8.

PLAYBOY: What do you want to be when
you grow up?
коко: Polite want good. Gorilla good.

9.

pıaysoy: What don't people understand?
коко: Sorry good. [When I say Im sorry
and ГИ be good] Frown lock lip [her sign
for female] pimple [people] fake tooth
[They frown when I want to look al women's
fake teeth.) Gorilla don't know Koko love
good. [Gorillas and people don't know that
Koko loves to be good.

10.

PLAYBOY

Y: What do you think of our lan-
c?

11.

pravsov: What's your most troublesome
thought?

коко: That. [Points toward gold-foil pattern
оп one of her scraps of fabric. Koko wants a.
gold tooth so badly that the night before, she
had put a piece of gold braid into her mouth
and swallowed it. Koko puts the gold foil
against her first right upper molar, as if try-
ing to make her tooth a gold one.]

12.

PLAYBOY: When is the kitten more trouble
than it’s worth?

коко: Cat bad good. Frown eat there.
[Points to her cereal—referring to the fact
that her cat has, on occasion, eaten ii]

13.

PLAYBOY: What's it like having hands on
your feet?

коко: Good there [floor] there [mesh fence].
[They're good for use on the floor and on the
fence.)

14.

PLavBoy: What does it mean when you slap
your chest?

Koko: Gorilla good. Drink hurry good
drink me. [Koko beats her chest to intimidate
Penny, lo get her to give her drinks, which
have been restricted for a medical test.]

15.

PLAYBOY: What do you want for your birth-
day?
коко: Earrings. Cookie.

16.

PLAYBOY: What do you say when you really.
want to insult people?
коко: Dirty. Devil head.

17.

PLAYBOY: How do you feel when you've
caten too much cake?
коко: Sad bad stomach.

18.

PLAYBOY: What would you eat for the sheer
pleasure of it?
коко: Champagne.

19.

PLAYBOY: Is there anything else you want
people to know about you?
коко: Me gorilla gorilla me

коой... finished.

Коко

20.

млувоу: What do you say when you're
tired of being asked questions?
коко: Gorilla teeth. Finished.

188

PLAYBOY

184

BEATING WALL STREET

(continued from page 150)

“So-called inside information is always shared. It is
part of the camaraderie of the locker room."

classic mistake in the selling game: He
took something personally. "One guy who
wouldn't buy Gillette because it was too
expensive," Irving told me, "insisted on а
cheap stock, instead. If you're a salesman,
you don't let someone off the hook; you
give him something. So I gave him Zayre
at five and seven eighths and he bought
5000 shares and he sold it at two and three
quarters and he called me every name in
the book."

"Where's the take-over?” the cl
screamed. "Where's the inside info?
me out and send me a check. You people

“That really hurt me,” said Serving Ir-
ving. “But years later, I saw him in a lock-
er room, heading for the stcam. He didn't
see me, so | shoved a note into his locker
that said, “1 eventually sold Zayre at 60. 1
sold Gillette at 70. Do you want to make
money or do you want to screw around?
Call Irving.’ And I left him my card. Well,
the guy had no sense of humor. Next thing
I know, the manager of our office calls me
in and the SEC has me on the carpet for
"inflammatory salesmanship’ and ‘trading
on inside information.’ It no good to
tell them I had made it all up and that a
bitter client did me in. Never rub your cus-
tomers’ noses in it . . . especially after
they lose money with you."

I didn't want to be around Irving too
long when he got maudlin. He might try to
sell me something. I asked him one last
question. “What would you do if vou really
had inside information, right from the law-
yers or the printer?"

Serving Irving paused and then smiled.
"Christ," he said. “If I really knew what
was happening, it wouldn't be any fur
Don't you know that thc game is сусгу
thing?

.
It isn’t enough in life to have personal
success. You ends and enemies must be
told about it. They must be aware of your
triumphs to make your triumphs com-
plete. Why did the Brink's robbers get
caught? They couldn't keep the biggest
heist in history to themselves, Investment
banker Levine wanted to build a network
of insider traders, a ring of highly placed
people at every major Wall Street firm to
swap information for the ring’s private
enrichment. This concept is not new,
either; pooling ideas for greedy purposes is
timeless. Years ago, I had a client who put
together such a ring for wading on special
knowledge. Luckily, its activities were
closed down before I met him. Because
aren't we all tempted by the apple? Aren't
we alla little greedy from time to time?

Al Leeson was in the shoe business, He
was a stylist, the outside man for his com-
pany, which manufactured expensive
women’s shoes that sold in stores such as
Neiman-Marcus and Henri Bendel. Lee-
son had a special talent for being remem-
bered wherever he went. He was a great
duker, a man who tipped big and knew
how to do it so that he always got the best
tables in restaurants, was always bumped
up to first class for the price of tourist, to
the suite for the price of a room. In the
shoe trade, they called him Mr. Dewars,
after his favorite beverage.

“One of my buddies at a shoc com-
pany,” Mr. Dewars told me, “says to buy
Garfinckel, Brooks Brothers, Miller &
Rhoads [the parent of Brooks Brothers
Stores] stock, says he heard it was a take-
over at 50, and it sounded good to me, so I
bought 1000 shares and told the guys in
my foursome about it that weekend and
they all nibbled. It was then around 30.
Let me tell you, we got a saying in the shoe
business, “The smell of leather keeps us
together,” and it's true. Even our enemies
well give tips to, hope they make dough.
You know why? Because it’s an impossible
business, and we're on the line every
day—leather prices, imports, cheap labor
abroad, style changes, slow-paying cus-
tomers, fluctuations in the lira. Every day
we die a little, So we tell cach other what
we have in the stock market. I score; we all
score. I go for the collar; we all get stifled.
Anyway, what do you know? Two weeks
after we all bought Brooks Brothers, bang,
there's a deal over 50. We sell it and have a
party."

Mr. Dewars told me that he had a golf
foursome every Saturday, all shoe guys.
There was Herbie, the best factory man in
the business, who used to put number-five
cans under the stitchers’ machines so they
didn't have to go to the ladies’ room to
pec. “Saved me à nickel a pair in produc-
tion,” be claimed. Herbie started almost
every conversation with “Can I ask you a
question?" He had bought 2000 shares of
Brooks Brothers and made almost $40,000.
on the stock.

Artie the Doctor was the third member
of the group. He was 63" but weighed only
145 pounds and was the biggest manufac-
turer of nurses’ shoes in America. The
Doctor had also bought 2000 Brooks
Brothers shares. Jerry the Ladies’ Man
was the last member of the foursome, the
highest roller of the group, a balding fatso
who loved to shoot craps in casinos and
would rent hookers two at a time at shoe
shows in Chicago, Paris and Milan. He
had a famous art collection, which had
begun when he was drunk in a gallery in

Paris in 1956 and boughr the entire show,
which consisted of several dozen Picassos,
Légers and Mirós. Jerry was just coming
off his hottest fall in history, and he didn't
care where he spent his money.

‘Shoe dogs are like that,” Mr. Dewars
explained. “And in Jerry's case, dumb-ass
luck didn't hurt, either. At the time, he
couldn't even spell Picasso." Jerry the La-
dies Man bought 5000 shares of Brooks
Brothers and cleared almost $100,000
before tax. It was the thought of taxes that
hurt, and the Ladies’ Man, being the
biggest shooter, was also the biggest
schemer.

“He made me look like а piker,” Mr.
Dewars said, “a schnorrer.”

It has been my experience that so-called
nside information is always shared. It is
part of the camaraderie of the locker room:
“We're buddies, we have a round of golf, a
few pops, maybe a few hands of gin, and
we swap stories. When we feel expansive,
we love our fellow man and we're all scel
ing refuge from the women, so we'll take it
a step further; we'll share some secrets
that'll make us some bucks." This is exact-
ly how most insider schemes begin.

The shoe foursome, sharing their net-
work of stores, made morc money over the
next ycar. Their tips came from stock-
brokers, relatives on various boards, cus-
tomers whose bankers had loose tongues
during business lunches. Everybody owes
somcone something, and what better way
to pay off than a friendly bit of advice?

After a particularly good score for all of
them, when General Cinema made a ru
at Heublein, the Ladies’? Man made his
friends a proposal. “We're men with cor
nections,” he said. “We get pretty good
information and we're not afraid to put the
dough on the line. But we declare all this
and we give Uncle Sam 50 percent. Гус
got a customer in Panama knows how to.
treat the Ladies’ Man. Gets me three
women when I’m down there, one of em
usually an albino Indian. We open an
account at a Panamanian bank, cost us
$1500 to open the account and one and a
half percent of the total assets for a fee—
plus, maybe, a couple grand to get a local
attorney as one of our directors. We place
all orders over the phone. None of our
names appears on the account. Once a
year, we take a deductible tip to Panama,
grease a few locals, which is always good
business, pick up some cash that we carry
on our bodies and back home we slide. No
customs people are going to check Ameri-
can shoe businessmen, 1 guarantee you,
especially when we ask them what size
their wives’ feet are. Send 'em a few
pair.”

“Hey,” said Mr. Dewars, "that's my
line. That's how I get bumped up to first
class."

"Who you kidding?" said the Ladics
Man. “That’s as old as shoes.

“Then it’s got to be my delivery." coun-
tered Mr. Dewars, refusing to be upstaged
by a bald-headed whoremaster.

But they opened the account in Pan-
more politically secure than the
Bahamas, more convenient than Switzer-
land, more anonymous than the Isle of
Guernsey. And they traded stocks. Each
of the partners put up $50,000 as a stake,
and they bought stocks through the stories
they heard at shoe shows and hotel cock-
tail lounges and sporting events. All the
stocks were rumored to be take-over can-
didates: Tampax, Lowenstein, Gerber
Products, Collins & Aikman, Macmillan,
Phillips Petroleum, Gulf Oil. Eventually,
every one of the stocks became big м

ners. Some of them were taken over at pre-
mium prices. But the Panama partnership,
dubbed Birdie Associates after the
partners’ golf-course connection, lost mon-
ey on every single trade except for Tam-
pax, where the account netted a $211.61
profit. The shoc dogs wanted action; they
couldn't wait for the deals to come
through. And they fought with one
another, the way partners always fight
over money. The insider deals turned to
dust, the way insider deals almost always
turn to dust. “You couldn't wait with
Татрах, you schmuck," fumed the Doc-
tor. “It doubled.”

"How did I know I'd long enough
to see it?" countered the Ladies’ Mai

"Let me ask you a question," said
Herbie the production guy. "We're down
to $145,000 and no hits. Do I need this?"

“Look, we've got good flow of informa-
tion,” said Mr. Dewars, “The directors’
meetings in Panama are my kind of meet-
ings. Give it a while more.”

The situation got worse when they tried
to make a big hit on a chcapie. They got
the word to buy Baldwin-United after it
had collapsed from a highflier to cight.
"Victor Palmieri is on this case," they
were told. "He's the genius who turned
around Penn Central. АП his options are
at ten bucks. Buy it at eight and wait for
the home run." Birdie Associates pur their
wad on Baldwin-United and saw it go from
eight to two and a half. They bought
20.000 shares originally, partially on mar-
gin (borrowing from the broker with the
stock as collateral). When the stock was
five, they had a directors’ meeting in Pan-
ama. Mr. Dewars described it to me.

“We had played golf at the club where
the Ladies Man's customer belonged.
None of us broke 100 except the temper-
ature, which was 105 and muggy, ncver а
good climate for shoc dogs, who need the
comfort of air conditioning. After the
round, we're sitting in the clubhouse get-
ting smashed on rum-dums when our local
lawyer comes over and announces that we
have to get our account back up to over
$200,000 or it's not worth his timc and,
anyway, his fec is going up. The Ladies”
Man's customer comes over and shuts off
our rum-dums, and it gets quite heated,
because he had also bought Baldwin-
United even higher than eight and he's
being squeezed. I must admit the Ladies’
Man was cool, though. He says, `1 guess

this means no more albino Indians?

Birdie Associates was shut down and
each partner came away from Panama
with about 88000 cash. “The final irony,”
Mr. Dewars told me, “was that a month
later, the Ladies’ Man’s wife unloads on
him for various crimes against her person
and files for divorce. It wasn't enough that
his net worth was considerably diminished
by this; she also tipped off the SEC and the
IRS, and the Ladies’ Man was charged
with securities fraud and tax evasion. We
lose our asses trading like wise guys and
we get bagged anyway. He sings against
us, just like Dennis Levine is doing, which
means that Birdie Associates was the right
name after all, and there's no statute of
limitations on fraud. If the IRS wants to
open up Pandora's boxes on anybody, for-
get it; you can't buy enough lawyers and.
accountants to get you clear.”

Mr. Dewars hesitated а second.
“There’s probably only one thing that
could get me out of the hole.” He looked
hopeful.

"What's that?" I asked him.

“Some really righteou: le informa-
tion. One good take-over story could bail
me out."

.
An old friend of mine, a former big-hit-
ting stockbroker, used to pride himself on

getting advance word on mergers and
acquisitions. He has since moved to Cali-
fornia to produce movies after his doctors
advised him that the movements of the
ticker tape were ruining his inside parts.
When he was in the investment business,
he was known as the Boomer. I called him.
up to check on whether or not insider trad-
ing had had any influence on his leaving
Wall Street.

"Christ, yes," he said. "It had every-
thing to do with it. Inside information
made me realize I was snake-bit, Don't
you know that 99 out of 100 stories never.
come true? And when they do come truc, it
never happens when it's supposed to. Go
through any brokerage-house board room
in America and every stockbroker will tell
you the same thing—which is that most
people lose money on the word that's sup-
posed to make them rich. If the average
broker were given the word, he wouldn't
share it with his dumb clients, he'd keep it
himself, And since the average broker
never buys stock for himself, much less
goes and leverages himself even for a sure
thing, when a dcal does come truc, hc hits
himself in the head and says, “1 had it. 1
shoulda borrowed the money." Shoulda,
coulda, woulda, didn’t,” said the Boomer.

“You're getting all excited," I said.

“Thats why I left the street,” he

М о ор А

185

PLAYBOY

186

agreed.

“How can you not get excited in the
movie business?" I asked.

“Irs a different kind of aggravation,”
the Boomer said. “If you got ids out
here, you'll always work, be a peon for 200
grand. I have ex-clients who let me copro-
duce here, executive. produce. there, no
heavy lifting. And you know my sickness,"
he said.

“You like to get laid," I answered.

“That's really why I'm out here. You
think the casting couch is dead, you're
crazy. Jane Fonda and Shirley MacLaine
may be goddesses to these kids coming to
L.A., but these kids are gonna put out for
a part till they get to be stars, and none of
"em is gonna get to that stage. Getting laid
was my problem with inside info; pardon
the pun. Its why I realized managing
money was not the Boomer's forte.

“What happened?”

“Two incidents drove me from invest-
ments," he said. “The first time, I thought
it was an accident; the second time. I knew
the Lord was telling me something. The
first time was in the days 1 chased tail at
lunch. I was working a stock that I was
given the word if I bought it at 11, it was a
cinch to sell out at 18. I go to a motel in
New Jersey with a female trust officer from
Citibank, not caring about anything but
my blood is up. While Im spending
lunchtime in bliss, with a Springsteen tape
playing in tribute to noonies in the Garden
State, the stock I'm working is going from
12 to 17% and they stop trading, pending
news. [The stock exchange often suspends
trading in a security temporarily until
heavy volume can be explained.] 1 owned
150,000 shares for clients, and I swear I
would have sold a ton on the way up.
While I'm nuzzling a shoulder of the trust
officer, thc news comes out on the Dow
Jones ticker. The president and the chair-
man of the company are selling all their
stock to а private buyer for 18%. Every
other stockholder is shut out. Whack. The
stock reopens at 12, just where it traded
when I told my secretary that I was gone
for a long lunch, trying to close a deal. 1
didn't sell a share; the stockholders were
also screwed, and there wasn't even a
class-action suit. If I could talk about it,
that had to be one of the most expensive
noonics in history.”

“What was your next lesson?” I asked.

“OK,” he said, sighing. “Remember
that in e tip. there is some element of
truth. Ї had it on very good authority that
a discounter, Delta United, was being
taken over at 14. It was then six. The wife
of the chairman was clucing me in. The
chairman was straight, a client of mine,
but he never breathed a word. They lived
out in Long Island," the Boomer told me.
“I went down to sell them a tax shelter one
summer, and I'm not wearing socks with
my Cole-Haan loafers. We're eating vitello
lonnato and Um sitting opposite the host-
ess and she's suddenly got my right loafer
off and is rubbing my big toc between her

legs while my client is saying ‘I adore
vitello tonnato, darling." Well, after that, we
have it off a number of times in the city,
with my big toc an integral part of the
equation, Pillow talk is a heavy element in
insider trading," the Boomer tells me,
“kid yourself not. You know the Wall Street
Journal reporter and his lovers? Not that
I'm a cynic, but I wouldn't be a bit sur-
prised if Levine and that Yuppie ring of
traders weren't swapping spit somewhere
along the line. Anyway, one day, the wife
told me that her husband had been offered
$14 a share for his company. ‘He told me,"
she said, on the way to brush her teeth and
put petroleum jelly on her lips for chap-
ping, which was a very annoying habit,
"that it was a problem, because if he sold
his company, he'd lose all his perks, but if
he did sell it, he'd be onc rich discounter.”

“Well,” continued the Boomer, “I
decided to lay my kishhes on the line. You
know kishkes? It’s guts. I bought 300,000
shares of the stock between six and а quar-
ter and seven and a half for clients, as well
as a shitload for myself. That was my big
payday.

He paused for a moment as if he were
taking a long, thoughtful drag on a ciga-
rette, “I remember the instant,” he went
on. “It was May, and the leaves were com-
ng out on the trees along Park Avenue
The stock was eight and a half, and the
chairman’s wife told me that 14 was a
lock, a sure thing. The head of our region
was in the office that day, and he came
over to my desk, looking worried.

“Why are you buying so much Delta
United? Compliance department is inquir-
ing about your heavy purchases, You don't
want your ass in a sling, much less my ass.
"There's no hint of inside info here, is
there?”

“Christ, boss,’ I told him. ‘Delta just
looks good on the charts. Good and solid,
ready to break out. That's all I tell my cli
ents, the chart is in breakout position.’

The volume in Delta was unusually
heavy that day, and the Boomer remem-
bers taking his wife to *21` for dinner. “Ме
had ‘21° burgers and a bottle of cham-
pagne and watched Richard Nixon at a
nearby table and 1 thought, Гуе got some-
thing a former President doesn't have—a
hot stock.”

The next morning, the chairman's wife
called the Boomer at thc office. Her voice
sounded as if she were being paid for her
sins. "He's dead," she said. "Massive.
coronary opening a stuck salad-dressing
bottle. He didn't even like creamy dress-
ings. It was for thc kids.

“Are you OK?” said the Boomer, madly
punching up Delta United on his Quotron
machine.

“He was going to be a rich discounter,”
she said, "I'm OK.”

The Boomer sweated that entire day
But the stock was strong, moving over nine
and a half on big yolume. The next day
was the funcral. There was a service at the
dead chairman’s temple, where the presi-

dent of the local bank praised him in a
culogy extolling the virtues of small towns
and civic-minded people. The Boomer
checked his watch every 30 seconds. The
market opened at ten o'clock, and he had
no idea of prices. After the service, he spot-
ted a pay phone in the lobby of the temple.
He headed for it. "Are you crazy?" his wife
said. “You can’t make a business call in
the temple.”

"They hugged the widow and her chil-
dren. She asked if they could take two of
her cousins to the cemetery, which was
half an hour out of town. They couldn't
say no.

“The rest of the day was hell,” the
Boomer said. “I couldn't leave the funeral
procession, which was moving slowly, with
all our headlights on, The parade of cars
must’ve stretched for blocks. I kept saying,
“Move, move” and the cousins in the back
seat are nudging each other and my wile is
nudging me, but I don’t give a shit any
more. All I care about is that Delta United
may be going crazy and I can't get to a
phone

It was drizzling at the cemetery, and
everyone was lost in thought about his
own mortality—except the Boomer, who
was thinking about his 300,000 shares. By
the time he got back to the widow's house
for corned-beef sandwiches, drinks and
condolences, he was feeling cursed by
God. He ran to a phone in an upstairs bed-
room to call his office. The stock had got-
ten as high as ten and seven cighths, his
sccretary told him, and was then trading
at nine and three fourths. “I wanted to sell
stock above ten and a half to be early!” he
yelled at her. “Did you sell any?"

“You told me not to do anything until
you called,” said his secretary

“You didn't sell a share?” he screamed,
just as the widow walked into the room.

“May I turn to stone if you ever touch
me again," she said to the Boomer.

He hung up. “Will you please listen to
me?"

She looked at him as if he were dead
meat. “Take your wife and her corned-beef‘
sandwich and go.

“The Boomer waited in vain for the stock
to get back over ten. He waited in vain for
the deal that had been promised. “I was
frozen at the switch,” he told mc. “Afraid
to admit a mistake, I rode the son of a
bitch to under a buck. And, before all my
clients quit me, I quit the business. Now 1
don't have to promise inside information,
just a table at Mattco's, which I can usu-
ally deliver without getting all emotionally.
involved."

We shall never be able to legislate
human nature, and the lure of the inside
word is eternal. But it is an old Wall Street
maxim, as true today as in the times of
swapping Government issues under the
Buttonwood Tree in 1792. “He who looks
back at the market dies of remorse.” Ask
Dennis Levine and his buddies if this is

truc.
El

rs, Ltd., New York, N.Y, Jewelry: Buccellati, Inc.

© 1966 Rentield Importe:
^

|

=

da
MARTINGROSS

i

START WITH MARTINI & ROSSI,
ADD ICE AND STIR EMOTIONS.

EASTFORWAR

j “L felt that there was a need to publish liter-
ary works that were too long for magazine arti-
clés and too short for books" says Noel
Young, 62, cxplaining how he created Bach-to-
Back Series, the latest innovation from his
Santa Barbara-based Capra Press. Borrowing

№ a technique fiom Fifties pulp novels, Capra

" puts two works back to back in one book, with

each getting its own cover. For one side, he approaches such literary

big-lcaguers as Raymond Carver and Herbert Gold, publishing their

s, novellas and short stories. The other side often contains the

work of an unknown. “The newer writers in this serics—such as Dan-

iel Pearlman and John O'Brien are young and just emerging,” says

Young. “We've got to keep nurturing fresh talent. Raising new crops
of writers can only be a healthy sign for us as a culture.”

In Stuart Karl’s office stands a cardboard
cutout of Jane Fonda. “Stuart, it’s been quite a
relationship,” reads the star’s inscription. That
relationship is purely business—big business,
since it was Karl, 33, who persuaded Fonda to
star in a video called Jane Fonda's Workout.
“That success helped Karl/Lorimar Home
со grow into an $80,000,000-a-year corpo-
ration with a bottom line as firm as Janc's. “Everybody else sells the
поме of the month," says Karl, who instead staked out a niche as a
video producer, often teaming up with magazines such as Consumer
Reports, American Health and rı.aysov for ideas. Although the com-
pany has grown, he has refused to change his approach. “This is big-
time finance with smalltime personalities,” he says of himself and his
executive team. “We're not corporate America.”

For an actor whosc reputation has burgconed
through playing serious roles in even more sc-
rious films—such as the foppish spy-to-be in
Another Country, the philandering boyfriend
Dance with a Stranger and now Julie Andrews’
star pupil in Duet for One—Scotland’s Rupert
Everett, 26, admits a fascination with a less
elegant art form: the American TV miniseri
“They're dangerous to be snobbish about,” claims the classically
trained actor, “They shoot so many of them in Europe that it’s steady
work for many English actors." His role as a louse in Princess Daisy
remains one of his favorite film experiences. “It's one of the nicest
things I’ve ever done—I even got to meet Claudia Cardinale." Не
was slightly less impressed with the “It was OK,” he
says, “but I didn’t like it as much as Holly ives.”

s.

John Adams, the 39-ycar-old classical com-
poser responsible for such works as Harmonium
and the more recent Harmonielehre, which
stayed on the classical-record charts for
months, has a problem that worries few of hi
fellow serious composers: too much popularity,
a situation that often makcs critics uncomfort-
able. “They have said that because this music
ccessible, it must be of little lasting value,” he complains. “But
there а masterpieces that were accessible to the public at the
time they were created — Dickens and Beethoyen’s work was very
popular. There is some kind of puritanical notion that equates com-
plexity and obscurity with greatness. The result is a tragic schism
between serious creators and their audiences. 1 hope what I'm doing
as а composer is beginning to bridge that gap."

rc many

CRIS LEHMAN AND
BOB MOOG:

making a killing

don't look like the diabolical masterminds
most foul, featuring such unscemly ele-
ments às cocaine, incest and even a sex-change opera-
tion. Instead, Cris Lehman and Bob Moog, both 30,
seem more like the mainstream BMW crowd. That's not
surprising, either, because Lehman is а С.РА. who
worked for Price Waterhouse and Moog has a Stanford
M.B.A. "We came from pretty dry academic back
grounds," acknowledges Moog, a distant relative of the
fellow who devised the music synthesizer. “We could be
on Wall Street or working for a Fortune 500 company,
but this is much more fun.”

Jı was on April Fools’ Day in 1985 that Lehman and
Moog founded University Games in Menlo Park, Cali.
fornia. The firm makes and markets Murder Mystery
Party, a series of non-board games designed to be played
during a dinner party by as many as 14 friends—one of

whom is the murderer. Each of the seven games so far
available contains identity packets for six to eight ficti-
tious characters, clues and a record to play to set the
background and drop hints about the murder's modus
operandi. Titles, retailing for $16 to $20, include Murder
on Misty Island (a college reunion replete with adultery
and bigamy) and The 1
зоп and espionage). The games, says Moog,
are patterned after popular but costly murder-mystery
weekends, but the idea "goes back to Clue, the grand-
daddy of them all

“Some people have told us we're the next Trivial Pur-
suit," says Moog. "We're right now at the same point
where Trivial Pursuit was in 1982 and 1983.” Lchman
maintains Шаг Murder. Mystery Party is even better,
because the games are not knowledge-based. You don't
have to feel stupid because you don't know an answer,
and it’s OK to get up for a beer. Anyone can play and have
a good time."

cle Twist (a ski setting with

cocaine, tre

Meanwhile, the partners figure they're
getting away with murder. “Bob and I go to work and play
games every day," says Lehman. “I know Cris didn't
go home during tax time before and say, "Gee, today
sure was fum," laughs Moog. —RICHARD J. PIETSCHMANN

MICHELE CLEMENT

PHILLIP DIXON.

MARY ELIZABETH
“MASTRANTONIO

on cruise control

For someone best remembered for spraying gunfire at Al Pacino's
cocaine=crazcd Tony Montana in Scarface, Mary Elizabeth
Mastrantonio, 27, is noticeably lacking in killer instinct. “I used to
watch people go to casting calls and sucker themselves out to pro-
ducers and directors, and it just never occurred to me to do that. 1
thought, Surely, there must be a way to get work and maintain your
dignity."

Apparently, there is, since Mastrantonio has worked her way from
singing country tunes at Nashville’s Opryland U.S.A. to Scarface,
TV's Mussolini and now The Color of Money, directed by Martin
Scorsese and starring Paul Newman and Tom Cruise

Her Mediterranean good looks—Scorscse calls them pre-Rapha-
clite—made her а natural for Scarface, but she recalls the experience
with mixed emotions. “It was not a comfortable set to be on,” she
says. “With all the obscenity and special effects, it was pretty intense
for your first time out."

The Color of Money, which was filmed in Chicago ncar her child-
hood home, was a different story. “Раш made popcorn on the set
every day and would cook us dinner a couple of times a week.
served as a ringleader, getting thc cast and crew together after work
nd I was close to my parents, so I could go home and do my laundry
every week.”

om

—ERIC ESTRIN

PLAYBOY

190

GREAT CHEFS continued from page 84)

“The key is how much you can get done ahead of time.
You'll be free to drink champagne and talk with guests.”

never go wrong with it. Then we have an
apple tart, which I've made in advance:
"The worst thing you can do is start dessert
from scratch after you've had a few glasses
of wine.

Spago, Los
Ne celebrate Christmas Eve din-
ner and go out of our way to make it fes-
tive. People should feel you've put some
extra effort into your party. They'll ap-
preciate it, and itll set the tone for the
enti, ening. Га never ask my guests to
bring something for me to throw in the
oven. 1 always bring out the best food,
wine, china and linens.

When planning the menu, you should
chose regional favorites that are casily
able. I make pâtés, foie gras, oysters,
goose, on and fresh noodles. For des:
sert, we usually have pears poached in red
wine or a büche de Noël.

I like to invite different types of
people, but we're all close friends. 1
choose the seating very carefully, because
I want stimulating conversation. Its a
very warm, friendly atmosphere. I want
people to stay as long as possible. I hate it
when people leave right after dinner for

av

another party—it's insulting. I even let
them go to sleep here.

LYDIA SHIRE (executive chef, Four Sca-
sons Hotel, Beverly Hills): If there's a sca-
son to splurge, this is it. 1 buy the best. I
always start Christmas dinner with a
pound tin of caviar. I serve it with sautéed
toast points, salt cod and lots of cham-
pagne. Then we have goose with chestnut
stuffing and a sauce made with Drambuie
and Scotch. I serve carrots and other root
vegetables. For dessert, I bring out a plum
pudding that I started in September and
kept dousing with booze. For a festive
touch, I make chocolate truffles or me-
ringue wreaths stuffed with fruit.
he first thing I do to plan the meal is
get out the cookbooks. James Beard is a
rcal inspiration. The key is how much you
can get done ahead of time. So much can
be accomplished the day before—you can
ables and cook a few things
Then you'll be free to drink
id talk with your guests. I
e to drink and Irs
not much fun to have a lot of skinny people
around. And if people don't want to leave
at the end of the evening, I just let them

ne-

even cut veg
in advance.
champagne а
love people who li

"Monica? You're picking Monica to play
Ihe virgin? Wow! Talk about creative casting!"

stay. I've actually told them, “See you
later. I'm going to bed!”
ALICE WATERS [chef/owner, Chez Panisse,

Berkeley, California): I never know wl

ГИ do for New Year's Eve until the week
bcfore—it's all at the midnight hour. I just
make sure I have plenty of things that I've

stashed away or that hold well in the oven,
and then it's just a matter of assembly

Um a traditionalist: I serve oysters on
the half shell, goose cooked on a spit, wild
mushrooms and persimmons and quinces.
Then I end dinner with something exotic,
such as baked Al. . 1 alw: make
candy for New Year's Eve. I serve it on a
platter—pastel or violet and gold-leaf.
chocolate mints—it makes everything spe-
cial. We even rent silver candelabra for the
table.

Flexibility is essential. You can't be at
all rigid. You even have to be prepared to
abandon something if it isn't working out.
115 also important to taste everything. T
know that's a terrible thing to do—stick-
ing your spoon everywhere— but don't be
shy. I just dig in and then repair what Гус
done.

I love good eaters, people who make
great toasıs and those who have a good
sense of everyone else in the room. People
like that arc catalysts for а good party,
because they bring everyone together.

BARRY WINE (chef/owner, The Quilted
Giraffe and The Casual Quilted Giraffe,
New York City): We celebrate the season
during an extended three-day period in the
country; our little vacation lasts into N
Year's Day. We invite about three couples
to stay with us. They're all comfortable
about leaving for a short while and doing
something by themselves, without worry-
ing about being impolite.

We basically stay in one big room that
contains a living room with a huge firc-
place, a kitchen and a dining room. There,
we just putter around. We make lots of fin-
ger food and everyone pitches in. It's a
process that lasts all day. And we cat while

we prep
the enter!

re the food, so cooking becomes
elf. We drink cham-

nent
pagne as we go along.

Our approach is to be driven by the in-
gredients on hand, so we improvise. We al-
ways make sushi or one-person pizzas.
Another favorite thing is mashed sweet
potatocs with lots of cream and butter, or
giant batches of hash browns.

1 night, we try to eat around 9:30. We
basically have one course, which we cook
outside on a covered grill. We usually
make turkey ога whole leg of lamb, and
we have а good bottle of red wine
with it. T] n't a formal meal at the din-
ner table—it lasts about 45 minutes.
Afterward, we sip cognac in our outdoor
hot tub. — PATRICIA WEND

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2 FIRST PRIZES: Pontiac Trans Ams, Value $20000 each; 5 SECOND PRIZES:
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PRIZES; Aquabikes, Value $2,750 each; 25 FDURTH PRIZES: Roadmester Elite
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drawing from among all eligible entries received by Marden-
Kane, ài depen deat ear organization whose decisions
are final and binding The first entry so drawn will win the
Grand second and third entry drawn in a like man-
ner will each win the First Prize. The next five eligible entries
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PLAYBOY

192

ROCK

BRAIS (continued from page 180)

“No matter how protective your parents are, there is
no way yowre not going to see people doing drugs."

whatever we want to do, saying that it was
important to be loved for who we are and
that they hoped we would make the right
decision and not take drugs.

Pm against drugs. To me, it’s important
to be in control. And there's no way I'm
going to venture out into some uncharted
part of my brain.

What kind of guy do I like? I don't go
for any specific type. But a sense of humor
is very important. And he should have nice
hands and big fect. Yeah, my dad has all
those things.

Dweezil: My first name is spelled with
an I and not an E. How could you not
know that? It's such a common name. m
thinking of using middle initials just so
people won't get me confused with all the.
other Dweezils in the universe. Yeah,
Frank likes to create fun names. There are
all sorts of stories about how I got mine. I
heard I was named after my mom's baby
toc, and she says that's true.

When I was a real little kid, I got teased
not only because of my name but also
because 1 had long hi It was blond and
curly, so my parents didn't want to cut it,

We never went places as a family. It's a
good thing, because family vacations
could be the worst torture you could go.
through. The younger kids fight nonstop.
In a car, they'd drive you crazy.

In our family, we all do our own thing.
We all eat dinner at different times. Every-
one knows how to cook—cven the
year-old. We wouldn't have it any other
way. I can't imagine what it would be like.
sitting down with everyone at six. When
we watch TV, everyone watches a differ-
ent channel. I like David Letterman and
MTV.

My father and I sometimes have oppo-
site musical tastes. He gets way out with
weird harmonics that most people find
hard to swallow. He's real percussive. 1
like a lot of guitar. I would love to play on
a Madonna record with a heavy-metal gui-
tar. I just played on Don Johnson's rec-
ord—a number called The Last Sound
Love Makes. It turned out real neat.

Гус never had a reason to rebel. I don't
find anything that offensive in my parents
to rebel against. I try to stay out of trouble.
I don't get myself involved in dangerous
situations. I stay far away from drugs and
alcohol. There's a very strong sense of that
in the house, I don't even want to talk to
anyonc on drugs. I think taking drugs is an
excuse to bi assholc.

When I was young, I don't remember
meeting many pcople at the house. Jimi
Hendrix came over once. But Dad is not а
rcal social person. We get an allowance.

It’s like the house is an office and we have
a payroll situation going on here. If we
need money, we borrow it and write how
much we took. Moon has her own bank
account, but every once ina while, she has
to borrow. She's going to have а rude
awakening when she moves out.

.

DARRIN MEDLEY, 21, son of Bill Medley
(The Righteous Brothers): I was born
right around the üme my father and
Bobby Hatfield recorded You've Lost That.
Lovin’ Feelin’ with Phil Spector. My mom
and dad were divorced and my mom was
remarried. But she passed away when I
was ten and I went to live with my father.

1 grew up in Newport Beach. We had a
house right on the beach. Then, when I
was in junior high school, we moved
inland, toward Anaheim, because my dad
really didn't feel that the beach was a
great place to raise a kid. When I was
about three, I used to go to Vegas a lot
with my father when he was playing at the
Sands. It was a lot of fun, 'cause he'd
always call me out on stage. I loved it. I.
remember once I was sitting on the side of
the stage on a chair, waiting for a late
show, and fell aslecp. They couldn't wake
me up, so they just brought the chair out
on stage with me fast asleep in it.

I got my first drum set when I was five.
And ever since I was 14, Гус had my own
band. Right now, I’m not in a band, "cause
Pm going to the University of Redlands,
and thats really hard. I'm studying
speech therapy. I want to be a speech
pathologist and work with children who
have speech disorders. I went up there to
major in bi s; | ended up taking a
speech class and really loving it.

I would also love to be a drummer, but I
know it's real, real hard to make it. A lot of
people can be decent. To be good takes
hard work.

My father tries to encourage ше. He's
always been behind me, saying, “If you
want to know how to do it, here's how."
But Pve always wanted to do it more my
way and just play and have a good time.

I used to practice in our house. If were
my father, I would have gone crazy. He's
up playing music all night and then comes
home to his son playing in the house with
his band. He used to joke on stage about
how loud our music was, though. But, of
course, when he started playing, his stuff
was considered hard rock and too loud.

I never rebelled. Compared with other
guys, I was pretty conservative. I had long
hair for a while in high school; but then,
everyone—even my father—had long hair
then. When I was real young and living

with my mother, I toured with my father.
But when I moved in with him, he didn't
tour as much, because he was raising me.
He'd save his tours for summer, Movin,
together was good for both of us. By that
time, I needed a father figure. And it was
really neat for him, too.
.

BEKKA BRAMLEIT, 18, daughter of De-
lancy and Bonnie Bramlett (Delaney and
Bonnie, plus solo carcers): My parents
were divorced when I was about four, so I
grew up with my dad and spent every
weckend with my mom. My mom alw
treated me and my sisters like little adul!
and kept nothing from us. But when she
got mad at us, we knew it. She didn't
spank us, but she let us know in words how
she felt—and that was sometimes worse.
My dad, on the other hand, was really
very strict. Now I can understand why.
I've been around older people and musi-
cians all my lifc— Eric Clapton and all
these people. They treated me as part of
the group, instead of as a hule kid, though
in some ways I still needed to be a kid.
When I got to be around 16, my father
became less strict, because he could tell I
was growing up and he sort of trusted me.

№ matter how protective your parents
are, there is no way you're not going to sce
a lot of people doing drugs around you.
"That's just the way it is in music. What
you do is up to you.

When I performed for the first time, my
dad was in the audience, but my mom had
to be at a Farm Aid concert. She was real
upset she couldn't be there. But she had to
explain to me that it won't always be pos-
sible for us to be at each other's concerts.

I always cry at my parents’ perform-
ances. The first time I ever saw my mom
before a big audience was at an Allman
Brothers concert, and Cher and a bunch of
people sang encores. I cried then. But I
remember especially the Dorsey Burnette
benefit where my parents got together and
sang for the first timc in about tcn ycars. 1
cried so hard that when they put the spot-
light on my sisters and me in the audience,
my face was all red and swollen.

All the time I was growing up, I listened
mostly to my mom and dad's music. I still
do. I listen to the radio to find out what's.
going on. But if Pim alone, I turn on
Delaney and Bonnie. That's my teaching
music. It's like school. My parents have
always been my musical idols.

All of the musicians I grew up around
were nice to kids, but Eric Clapton was the
nicest, First of all, I had a crush on him. I
didn't have to scream to get his attention
the way some kids have to with some
adults. My mom and dad would say,
"Don't ask Eric so many questions. You
may be bothering him.”

My mom always seemed young to mc.
She wore the hippest clothes. When all my
friends’ mothers were wearing mother
clothes, she was wearing tight jeans and
boots. Rock can keep you young. I can't

picture my parents as grandmas and
grandpas. My mom in polyester pants?
"Thatll be the day!

.

MATTHEW and GUNNAR NELSON, 19, twin
sons of the late Rick Nelson.

Matthew: I was about four years old the
first time I saw my father perform—in Ha-
жай. It was a real пісе show, too. We had
all spent the day at the beach, and he
played at the hotel that night. He loved
what he was doing, because it’s the only
profession you would work at even if you
weren't getting paid. And even when he
was having his downs—when he was not
musically active—my dad was learning
That's one thing I really admired.

When I was growing up, we all spent a
lot of time together. Generally, we listened
to all sorts of good music. My parents
understood that a boy likes to experiment
with a lot of different sounds and that
music can get loud. They never com-
plained, as long as we were reasonable. We
didn't always agree on music, though. Not
until I got older did I appreciate Bob Dyl-
an. Dylan was just
some nice things about my dad and sang
Lonesome Town.

Many people don't т

n town, and he said

alize that my
father was one of the pioneers in country-
rock. Megabands like the Eagles followed.
Like a lot of kids, I grew up listening to all
styles of music. But basically, my lavorite
has always been my dad's stuff. He taught
me that there is no bigger high than taking
an idea, putting it down on paper and then
hearing the applause.

Gunnar: My father always scemed real
young. I remember I couldn't understand
why all my classmates? dads had gray hair
and my father looked like he was in his
20s. 1 think it has something to do with
being a performer—it keeps you young
He had a blast up there on the stage. 1
hope 1 look as good when Um older.

I got my first drum set when | was four,
and I've been playing it for 15 years now
here was never a question in my mind
about whether or not 1 would be a musi-
cian. ICs the same way with my brother.
We've been playing L.A. clubs since we
were 13. Two weeks before his last road
trip, my father saw us play. He sneaked in
back with sunglasses, so no one would rec-
ognize him. When we got home, he said he
was so impressed. He had never gotten out
to scc us play that much before.

My brother and I are a great writing
team. Му father always told us it was im-
portant that an artist be able to write his
own songs. because it's hard for a band
that doesn't write its own material to get
signed, since there are always other musi-
cians who can play bette

Since my father died, there has been a.
dramatic turn in our song and lyric con-
tent. Matthew and 1 have had to grow up
fast in the past few months,

o

David GRAHAM, 18, son of Bill Graham

(owner of the Fillmore rock clubs, pro-

ducer of Live Aid and various other major
concerts): 1 grew up living half a year with
my father in San Francisco and half a усаг
in Pennsylvania with my mother, who is
an artist. There was a dramatic difference
between the two: Living with my mother
gave me a wonderful balance 1 wouldn't
have had living in that rock world full
time. Still, 1 loved my times in San Fran-
cisco in my father's world

My most vivid memory of a rock
performance my father staged was the
closing of Winterland, a hall in San Fran-
cisco, оп New Year's Eve 1978. There
were two acts on first, followed at mid-
night by the Grateful Dead. My father's
company always docs a big production at
midnight, but this year he topped them all
by flying over the audience on this huge
replica of a marij
pended on wires. At midnight, the housc
lights were killed and the audience was in
total darkness. Then there he was with the
lights on him, tossing flowers over the
audience. Exactly at midnight, thousands
of balloons came down from the ceiling
and the Dead started to play. I was ten
years old. Гуе also been on lots of rock
tours. For mstance, in the summer of 1982,
The Rolling Stones did their last tour,
and | went on that. We were all over
Europe— London, Paris, Bristol, Madrid,
Munich. Keith Richards’ son, Marlon,
also went, so | had someone near my
age to hang out with. We played a lot
of cards.

The two bands 1 got to know best were
the Dead and the Stones. In 1984, I went
on tour with Dylan and Santana, playing
basically the same venues we played with
the Stones. I'm a very big fan of Dylan,
especially his a
in’ in the Wind. But of all the bands my
father worked with, I especially liked the
Dead. because they're very nice people
and always treated me well

My father and I don't always agree on
music. Sometimes I get into hard-rocking
music, like
Latin music

Most of my friends know who my father
is. When big acts—such as Bruce Spring-
steen— come to town, everyone asks me
I can get them tickets, I don't like it, but
you can't blame them for asking.

At one time, I thought of becoming а
musician. When I was 11 or 12, I asked
my father for an electric guitar, which he
got for me. But being around Santana, and
guitarists like Eric Clapton and Jeff Beck, I
got discouraged quickly. I might want to
do something different from my father just
because music is what he does.

.

JASON BONHAM, 20, son of the late John
Bonham (drummer for Led Zeppelin):
When my parents married at 17 and had
me the next Уса
When I was two, [Led Zeppelin vocalist]
Robert Plant asked my father to join this

joint that was sus-

oustic numbers, like Blow-

Van Halen. He's a big fan of

we lived in a trailer

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193

PLAYBOY

great new band Вс had gotten together,
because they needed а drummer. At first
he said, “No, m because my

y time you join with Robert in
something, it always ends up bad." They
sent telegrams back and forth and finally
he took them up on the offer.

When 1 eot a little older, we moved out
of the caravan and got an apartment.
Then, a few years later, after Led Zeppelin
had made а name, we moved to a house in
another small village. I was about five and
started school in the same village. At v
І was asked to leave school. I sort of took
over the classes. Some of the kids resented
it. I was зо outgoing and forward, the
teachers couldn't cope. I was a bit of a
lunatic. My mom used to take me into a
clothes shop. I looked a bit different. be-
cause | had this long blond hair. Some
shop assistant would say, “Isn't she cute.”
I'd scream, “I’m a boy, not a girl!” and
knock all the clothes down. But when
you're that age, you don't really realize
you're different. At nine, I took up moto-
cross. My father really got into it. He’d be
up at 6:30 am, making sandwiches. He'd
attach a towing trailer with my bike in
back of his Rolls and off we'd go. I became
quite good at it, and by the time I was 11,
Га won six championships.

By the time we moved into our first
house, in Hagley, my father had started to
make a lot of moncy. At onc time, he had
14 cars—including two Bentleys, a Rolls,

an ХК 120, a Maserati, a few Jensens,
Ferraris, a Rolls Corniche. It was a largish
house on a farm with a back yard, barns, a
cottage. We had about 60 acres. It was a
very small village, and the house nearest
to us was two miles away.

In England, Led Zeppelin was not a
houschold name. The kids at school would
What's the name of your dad’s group
"Then Led Zeppelin played а con-
rt here and the kids started to try to be
friends.

1 found cut about my father's death
while watching ТУ. My mom was down-
stairs. We both started screaming. I was
about 14.

His death was just one of those things.
He had had too much to drink; he hadn't
caten. Everyone does it. He just woke up,
started feeling bad and choked.

.

OTIS REDDING ш, 23, son of the late Otis
Redding: I wish I could say I knew my
father, but he was buried on my fourth
birthday. I couldn't even get real sorrow-
ful, "cause I was so young. I remember see-
ing him perform once in Rome, Georg
He had his own airplane and I went with
m to a gig when I was real small. My
mom would get upset because I'd come
home with one shoe or something missing.
She'd say, “Otis, you know you can't take
care of that kid while you're performing."
But I always wanted to go.

It took my mom a long time to get over
my father's death. After he died, she

"I mel the damn quota, but they dumped me
for somebody hipper."

played his music around the house a lot. 1
couldn't really get into his music then. Not
until I was around 13 did I realize he was
somcthing special. In fact, except for Mar-
vin Gaye, I really didn't like mu
much when I was a kid.

Then, about eight ycars ago, my older
brother Dexter, my cousin and I started
our own group, the Reddings. We did sev-
eral albums for CBS and now were on
PolyGram. We're not trying to be like my
father, but that kind of music comes natu-
Dexter sounds like my father
when he sings certain songs.

My brother and cousin would say to me,
“Why don't you sing lead off some of the
" | would say, “No, my name is Otis
ng, and when I sing, I have to be
really good.”

.

LOUISE GOFFIN, 26, daughter of Carole
King and songwriter Gerry Goffin: My
father studied chemistry in college and
wanted to write Broadway pl My
mother was going to be a schoolteacher.
By the time I was born, they were co-
writing songs. Yes, Little Eva was my baby
sitter. We lived in West Orange, New Jer-
sey, which was real suburbia. I have only
sleepy little memories of my parents work-
ing together. [King and Goffin were
divorced in the mid-Sixtics.] I remember,
for instance, being taken to an Aretha
Franklin recording session. Then my sister
and I moved to Los Angelcs with my mom
in 1968. I was about 11 when she made
Tapestry. 1 vaguely remember hearing the
songs played in the house. Suddenly, she
was very famous, but it t really affect
my life. People would just say, “Hello, I
hear your mother is Carole King." If they
said they'd heard my father was Gerry
Goffin, 1 was more impressed, because it
took a real music lover to know about his
contributions.

Му mom set a good example for me,
because she was able to have both a career
and a family, and she always put the fam-
ily first. Now that Pm in the music busi-
ness, it gives me hope that I can lead a
normal lilc, have a family and still do what
I like the most.

My most vivid memory of secing my
mom perform is when she opened for
James "Taylor. It was a very warm audi-
ence. In the Seventies, people really liked
singer-songwriters, They actually listened
to lyrics then. It’s awesome seeing some-
one who can have thousands of people in a
stadium tapping into the same feeling at
the same time. It’s something I have
always longed to do.

My relationship with my parents was
like any other teen-parent relationship.
Most girls at 14 tend to rebel against their
mothers and are daddy's girls. Still, I
talked to my mother more than most tcen
girls do—not because she was in the pop
world but because she was younger than
most mothers. She's only 18 ycars older
than Гат.

My mother was a little lax with me. She

did much better with the kids who came
after ту sister and me. She was stronger
with them, The Sixties gencration was а
bit loose with kids. It was trendy to be free
and let your kids in on everything
those days. But it's a shame if chil-
dren are exposed to too much too soon.
They lose that innocence of discovery.
ver really chose a musical career,
but Гус never envisioned myself doing
anything else. I wrote my first decent song
when I was 16 and made my first album
[Kid Blue] in 1979. Before that, 1 per-
formed in high school talent shows. 1 was
very young, but it was quite casy to get a
record deal—well, not exactly easy, but
the music business was enjoying ап incred-
ible wave of success. Of course, my moth-
and [ have certain inherent vocal

-but idea mot to
her at all but to establish an
of my ow:
a big difference in the way my
parents respond to my work. My father
really listens to the words, which I love.
Гус worked very hard to get him to say the
lyrics are good, because he also has been
very hard on me about them. [Long pause]
In fact, I think it's a good idea not to play
your songs for your parents. Music is not
about getting your parents! approval

.

ZAK STARKEY, 21, son of Ringo Starr: I've
been playing in pubs and clubs since | was
12 with different bands. When I was about
ten, my dad showed me the basics of
drumming and said, “If you want to carry
on, do it on your own." The basics arc
quite casy—it took a couple of hours one
afternoon— but it takes quite a few years
to get it together properly. But I liked it
right away. It was quite casy 10 relate to
my father. He never complained about
musical choices. He's a musician. How
can he disapprove of something he started
in the first place?

er

the was

б

ROCKWELL (KENNEDY GORDY), 22, son of
Motown Records founder Berry Gordy,
Jr: Having a big legend as a father meant
all these security precautions, cameras
and stuff all around the house. It also
meant that my parents didn't let me out of
sight, because maybe Га be kidnaped. 1
was pretty sheltered, and I didn't like it. I
was full of mischief, a rebel. Every chance
I got, I tried to get away with something
just to prove 1 could get beyond the secu-
rity reach. I wanted to be like everyone
else. Га go to my friends’ houses, and they
would be normal houses. "There was pri-
жасу. In my housc, thc guards had keys to
every room. If I locked my door, it
wouldn't do me any good, because some-
опе had a key.

I was ten when I first sang in public. It
was at a Diana Ross concert, and she was
doing Reach Ош and Touch (Somebody's
Hand). 1 was in the audience with my
ther. When she came to me with the mike,
the crowd went crazy. Suzanne de Passe

(now president of Motown Productions)
said to my father, who is the chairman, “1
think we should do an album with your
son, give him a record deal. The crowd
really loved him.” But my dad said, “No,
he has to finish school

‘To finally get a record contract, I had to
go through different channels without let-
ting my father know about it. Well, first I
went to him, put my cards on the table and.
said, “What do you think?”

He said, “I'm working with Michael;
Гуе got Diana over here; Гус got Stevie,
Гуе got Smokey. Why would I bother with
you? In fact, this situation is absurd —it's
really hard for me not to laugh. Maybe

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you should be a comedian or something,
like Richard Pryor.” I had a band and
stuff and wanted him to give me his ap-
proval. I think it’s a father-son thing. He
wanted me to stay little.

I learned a lot being around my father.
All the time I was growing up, Pd hear
him telling others what it takes. He'd say,
“This song is OK, but you've got to have
more of a hook—the hook has to be so me-
lodic that you don't forget it.” T wish he
would take more control over my career.
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196

B ANDITS (continued from page 169)

“There's no percentage robbing the poor. What was
I gonna take, their food stamps?”

there.” Which it always was.
“You only robbed the rich?”
“There's no percentage robbing the

poor. What was I gonna take, their food
stamps:
She said, without looking at him,

“You've never been to Central America.
There, the poor are the ones who are
robbed. And murdered."

"That stopped him, until he thought to
say, "How long were you there?"

“Almost nine years, not counting a few
trips back to the States, to Carville for
training seminars. Thi по place like it
If your purpose in life is the care of
lepers—and that’s what the Sisters of
Saint F 5 do—then you have to go to

Carville every few years, keep up with
whats going on in the field.”

“The Sisters of Saint Francis?”

“There're a bunch of orders named for
Francis, the guy had so much c
He might've been a litte weird, too, but
that's OK. This one's the Sisters of Saint

isma

ig
had never heard of it. He thought
of saying, I like your habit, but changed
his mind. “And you were stationed in
Nicaragua.”
"The hospi

ncar Jinote

lo Familia, was

is.

t I did was practice
c without a license. Toward the
end, we didn't have a stalf physician. Our
two Nicaraguan doctors were disap-
peared, one right after the other. It was
only a matter of time. We weren't for cither
but we knew who we were against.”
Mere disappeared.
He'd save that one for later.
you're back home for a while?”
She took several moments to say, “I’m
not sure.” Then glanced at him. "How
about you,
He liked the casy way she said his name.
"No, I gave it up for another linc of work. I
got into agriculture,”

And now

State Penitentiary
She was lool

ея years. Met some
interesting. people i in \ there."

"What was it
“Sister, you don't want to know.”
She said, in a thoughtful tone, "Saint

Francis was ^ Then glanced

prison. .

АА а

Pop-Tarts. Dry

"December eleventh. Running low on
scalp continues to bother me. Still
no word from Publishers Clearing House."

at Jack and asked, “But how do you feel
about it? | mean committing crimes and
then being locked up."

"You do it and forget it.” He hadn't
heard about Saint Francis’ doing time. . . .
But he was talking about himsclf now. “1
have a healthy attitude about guilt. It's
not good for you.”

He saw her smile, not giving it much,
but he smiled back at her, feeling a lot bet-
ter, tl ing maybe they should stop on
the way, have a cup of coffee. She was nice,
easy to talk to. But when he mentioned
colice, Sister Lucy frowned in a thoughtful
kind of way and said they really didn't
have timc.

Jack said, “Гуе found one thing in this
s, there's very little pressure. You
go pick up the deceased, and I don't mean
to sound disrespectful, but they're gonna
be there

She said, “Oh,” in her quiet way, her
gaze lingering, “по one told you.

Jack said, “I had a fecli
something you thought I knew.
didn't anyone tell me?”

She said, “I think you're going to like

there was
What

it.

He had to admit he liked the idea she
was playing with him now, seeing a gleam
in those calm eyes as she looked over
again, about to let him in on a secret.

“The girl we're going to get

“Amelita Sosa.”

"Yes. She isn't dead.”

.

Seven years ago, when Amelita was 15
or 16 and living in Jinotega with her fam-
ily, а national-guard colonel had come
along and put stars in her eyes. This guy,
who was a personal friend of Somoza's,
told Amelita that with her looks and his
connections, she'd be surc to win the Miss
Nicaragua pageant and after that the Miss
Universe, appear on international satellite
television and in no time at all become a
famous film star. “You know, of course,”
ter Lucy said, “what he had in mind.”
was during the war. Before the
Sandinistas took over the government.

ck understood what the colonel was
up to but wasn't exactly sure about the
war. He pictured shifty-eyed guys with
machetes, straw sombreros, bullet belts
crossed over their shoulders, waiti to
ambush a United Fruit train loaded with
bananas. But then he would scc Marlon
Brando and a bunch of armed Mexican
extras riding into the scene and govern-
ment soldiers firing machine guns from the
train. It was hard to keep the borders and
the history down there straight. He didn’t
want to interrupt Sister Lucy's story and
sound dumb asking questions. He listened
and stored essential facts, picturing stock
characters. The coloncl, one of those oily
fuckers with a gold cigarette case he opens
to ойег the poor son of a bitch he's having
shot just what he wants in these last
moments of his life, a smoke. Amclita —
Jack saw a demure little thing with fright-
ened Bambi eyes, then had to enlarge her

breasts and put her in spiked heels and a
bath suit cut high to her hips for the
Miss Universe contest.

But once he got her to Managua, the
colonel never mentioned beauty pageants
again. The only feeling he had for Amelita
was lust. Good word, lust. Jack couldn't
recall if he'd ever used it but had no trou-
ble picturing the colonel, the son of a
bitch, lusting. Jack put an extra 50 pounds
on him for the bedroom scene: the colonel
ng off his uniform full of medals, gut
hanging out, leering at Amelita cowerir
behind the bed. Jack watched him rip
open the front of her nightgown, show-
class breasts springing free, as Sister Lucy
said, "Arc you listening?"

‘To every word. And then what?”

And then, by the
timc the rebels had
reached Managua,
the colonel was in
Miami and Amelit:
was back home, sale
for the time being.

The next part
brought the story
close to the present
but was harder to
follow, Sister Lucy
referring to the
political — situation
down there like he
knew what she was
talking about. It
was confusing, be-
cause the ones that
had been the gov-
ernment before, it
sounded like, were
now the rebels, the
Contras. Then the
ones that had start-
ed the revolution
back in the Seven-
tics were now run-
ming the country.

He got that much.
But which were the

good guys and
which were the bad
guys?

While he was still
trying to figure it
out, Sister Lucy was
telling how thc coloncl had now returned
to Nicaragua as a guerrilla comandante in
the north, had gone looking for Amelita in
the dead of night and had taken her off
with him into the mountains.

Say one thing for the colonel, he didn't
quit. “Maybe the guy really liked her,"
Jack said, reserving judgment, still not
sure which side the colonel was on, even
taking off, briefly, the extra weight he'd
put on the guy. And got a look from Sister
Lucy—man, a hard stare. "Or he was
driven by his consuming lust," Jack said.
“That would be more like it, huh? A lust
that knew no bound:

She said, “Are you finished?" Sounding
like Leo with that dry tone. He told her Ве

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was and she said, good. [t was a new expc-
rience, the fecling he could say just about
anything he wanted to a nun, ofall people,
and she'd get it because she was aware—
he could sce it in her eyes—and would not
be shocked or offended. He had been to
prison, but this lady had been to a war.
They came to the part where Amelita
found out she had Hansen’s disease. It was
while she was still in the mountains with
the colonel. Brown spots began to appear
on her arms and face. She was scared to
death. A doctor in camp—“Listen to this,
Jack” —made the diagnosis and told the
colonel Amelita would have to go to Sa-
grado Familia immediately, that day, to
begin sulphone treatments, There was no
sensory loss, the disease would be arrested

ood 3
К

A witness told me, a

Contra woman who

deserted a few days

+ later and came to

in an early stage and the doctor was confi-
dent there would be no disfigurement.

Jack said, “It's hard to imagine a good-
looking young girl like that——"

Sister Lucy said, “Listen to me, will
you?" It surprised him and shut him up.
“Where do you think the doctor was from,
he could take onc look at her and make the
diagnosis? Yes, even before he did a bi-
opsy and saw M. leprae bacilli and con-
firmed it, she had near-tuberculoid H.D.
Jack, he was ош’ doctor, from
grado Familia, One of the disappeared
ones.”

There it was again

“Well, he didn't just disappear, then."

“ОГ course not. He was taken by force,

guns at his head. They kidnaped him."

“Then why do you call it disap-
peared?”

She said, “My God, where have you
been? It isn't only in Nicaragua and Salva-
dor, it’s a Latin-American custom. It hap-
pens in Guatemala; it's popular all the
way south to Argentina. Don’t you read?
People are taken from their homes,
abducted, and they're called desaparecidos,
the disappeared. And when they're found
murdered, you know who did it? Los des-
comocidos, unknown assailants.”

Jack was shaking his head. "Pm not
sure Г ever heard about that.”

“Listen to me." She snapped it at h
Then continued in her quiet tone. “The
doctor, Rudolfo Meza, from our hospital,

he told the colo-
nel Amelita маз
in the carly stages
of leprosy. And you

kuow what the colo-
nel did? He drew a
pistol and shot the
doctor four times in
the chest. Murdere

him, standing close
enough to touch him

п the gun barrel.

us. Amelita was
there, of course. She
saw it

“1 was gonna ask
you."

“And she ran.
‘The Contra woman
helped her get to
Jinotega, then came
to the hospital to
warn us, the colonel
had sworn to kill
Amelita. . . . And
you think maybe the
guy really liked her.
Is that right, Jacl

He sat there in his
-blue suit and

striped tie and

couldn't think of one

goddamn thing to
say back to her. This lady was not as nice
as she appeared; she could show you a
hard edge. They had left the interstate and
were approaching the river, past chemical
works in the near distance, the sight and
smell of them along the flats.

"He murdered the doctor for telling
him. Then came to thc hospital looking Юг
Amelita. He said she had defiled him."
The sister's tonc hushed in the quiet of the
air-conditioned hearse. “He said she had
allowed him to enter her in order to give
him the disease and he would kill her for
that reason, trying to make him a leper.”

e.

They passed through the main gate and

she came to life, telling him that at one

197

PLAYBOY

198

time it had been called the Louisiana
Leper Home. Her tonc relaxed again, nat-
ural. And now it was Hansen's Disease
Center. Не knew that but kept quiet, still
trying to imagine a man's wanting to kill a
girl he believed had tried to give him lep-
rosy. Was that possible? She told him the
administration building predated the Civil
War, had once been the mansion on a
sugar plantation, and all those mossy oak
trees must be just as old.

He knew that, too.

Now that same girl, Amelita, was sup-
posed to leave here in the hearse. They
could have got a limo for the same price.
So it must be somcbody was watching. Or
it was possible and they weren't taking any
chances. Make them think Amelita was
dead. But would the stall be in on it? How
would they work it?

Meanwhile, his tour guide was telling
him it amazed her that the world's most
advanced training and research center for
Hansen's disease was in the U S. And how
many people knew about it?

Well, just about everybody in New
Orleans did. He'd heard stories that in the
old days, lepers were brought here in а
train with the windows covered, nailed
shut; the whole place guarded so they
couldn't get out and spread the discase.
Somebody on his mother's side of the fam-
ү, her aunt's father-in-law, had been
brought here.

She was saying how it reminded her of a
small college campus. There, that view of
the main buildings.

It looked to Jack Delaney like a Federal
correctional facility, minimum security,
once you got past the older buildings that
had that New Orleans look.

She told him the last time she was here,
there had been about 300 live-in patients.

Did he know there was a golf course?
Yes, he did, and studied her calm expres-
n, her smile as they passed a couple of
sisters in white nurse uniforms. She
waved. . . .

While he sat here wired, tryi
ond-guess what was going on. Eve
annoyed. The sister giving him leper facts
and the tour while a girl waited to be taken
out in a hearse so a freaked-out Nicara-
guan would К she was dead. That had
to be it. Now she was waving to a guy ina
lab coat.

And he thought, Yeah, but she got the
girl out of Central America by herself un-
der the gun and brought her all the w:
here, didn’t she? So leave her alone. Don't
rush her. She knows what she’s doing.
Look at her, Jesus, with that mot
nose and lower lip he wouldn't mind bit-
ing...

They were on the trec-shaded drive that
led to the infirmary building, Sister Lucy's
gaze on the entrance, directly ahead of
them.

He said, "You touch them, too, don't
you? Not just the drunks at the soup
kitchen; I mean lepers, at the hospital

where you worked.”
She came toa stop and turned off the ig-
nition before looking at him with those
quietly aware eyes

“That's what you do, Jack, you touch
people.”

.

They sat in the hearse, parked in the
shade of old oak trees, while she smoked a
cigarette, Jack deciding it was no more
weird for a nun than the way she dressed.

He said, “You want the colonel to think
she's dead, I can understand that. But why
go to all this trouble if he's busy down in
Nicaragua?”

“He isn't down in Nicaragua," Sister
Lucy said, her voice quiet, in control.
“He's in New Orleans.”

“Guy's fighting a war, he drops every
thing to come after the girl, what'd you
say, defiled him?”

“Jack, he was military attaché at the
Nicaraguan embassy in Washington. He
came here in Seventy-nine, to Miami,
when Somoza's government fell, and we
know he was in New Orleans before he
went back to Nicaragua. He has friends
here. You must know they're getting all
kinds of support from the U.S.” She
paused and said, "Don't you?" Frowning
a little. She blew out a stream of smoke
and said, "What we know is that the colo-
nel traced us to Mexico and then here.
Now he's here and has inquired about
Amelita. He hasn't sent flowers, Jack, he
wants to kill her.”

Listen to the nun. He watched her mash.
the cigarette in the ashtray and close it.

"There's a doctor here, on the staff, who
spent ycars in Nicaragua end was a friend
of Rudolfo Meza. M

“The one the colonel shot.”

“Murdered. At the time I arrived with
Amelita, I told him the whole story. So he
knew the situation and got in touch with
me as soon as he found out the colonel had

Sister Teresa Victor told him
Amelita was seriously ill and couldn't see
anyone.”

“The whole hospital's in on it? What
we're doing?”

*No, not administration; some of the
stall. I think a few of the doctors and, of

araguan.

the sisters. There won't be a death
anyone inquires, the sis-
ters will say they’re not permitted to give
out information about the deceased, well,
other than she was taken to a funeral
home.”

“Waita minute.”

“Then all you have to do is put a notice
in the paper that Amelita Sosa was cre-
mated. She doesn't know a soul here, so
anyone who inquires would have to Бе the
colonel or a friend of his.”

“I put a notice in the paper.
thought about it and said, “М
it's not somethi
over.”

“Who would know?”

course

> He
ll, 1 guess
you could go to jail

He nodded at that. “You're right."
“What else can I tell you?"

He thought a moment and said dead-
pan, giving it back to her, “If you saw the
colonel right now, would ycu touch him?"

With just the barest trace of a smile, she
said, "You're having a good time, aren’t
you?"

“1ез different,” Jack said, with the same
hint of a smile. “What's the guy's name,
the colonel?”

“Dagoberto Godoy.”

“Is he kinda fat and has a little thin
mustache?”

“Не has a mustache, but he's trim, you
ight say good-looking.”

Jack said, “Oh.”

.

He brought Amelita Sosa out in a
tic body bag on а wheeled mortu
past empty cars parked along the back of.
the infirmary building, to the hearse
standing in the sun, its rear door open.
With the cot touching the step plate, he
squcezed the handles to collapse the front
legs first, then the rear legs as he slipped
the cot into the hearse, pushed down the
lock button on the door and closed it
firmly.

That was quite an attractive girl he'd
helped into the body bag, not like any lep-
er he had ever seen in pictures. Не һай
touched her zipping up the bag, making
sure the zipper didn't get snagged in her
flowery shirt. He hadn't noticed any
brown spots on her face or arms. He
strolled over to the driver's side of the
hearse and got in. By the ume hed start-
ed the engine, the passenger-side door
opened and Sister Lucy got in.

“Сап she breathe?"

"Enough, I imagine."

А car came from the drive in front of the
infirmary and fell in behind them. There
were three cars in line by the time they
passed through the gate. Jack watched
them in his outside mirror.

“ОК. Now."

Sister Lucy turned to slide open the
glass partition, then got all the way
around, up on her knees.

"Can you reach it?"

“Barely.”

“Pull the cot toward you.”

She said, “There.” Then began speak-
ing in Spanish to Amelita, hunched over
the scat back, her linen jacket pulled up
and the curve of her hip in the tight jeans
right there next to him. This was different,
all right. He glanced at her hip, the neat
round shape, without really looking. She
was the toucher—what would she do if he
touched her? There was touching and
there was touching. He could touch the
girls he knew bent over the scat and not
one of them would think anything of it.
"They might say, “Hey,” but they wouldn't
be surprised. It wouldn’t mean anything
An affectionate pat, Maybe a little
squeeze.

The leggy Calvins came around on the

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se melita has to go to the bathroom.”

“We just left the place."

“Does that mean you won't stop?”

St. Gabriel was there ahead ol them, а
block of storefronts and a few cars, the
town half dead on a Sunday afternoon. Не
crept through the main intersection and
kept going until he saw the Exxon station
on the right, no cars at the pumps, and
rolled toward the shade of the canopy.
Rest rooms would be on the other side of
the station. He'd pull around and back in,
like he was getting air for the rear tires,
and sncak Amcli to the women's.

There was а calé across the road, four
young guys betwecn a car and a pickup
truck, hanging out, looking this way now.
He could give St. Gabriel something to
talk about all week. TI gets out of
the back end of a hearse.

“I don't think it’s open.

He braked to a sudden stop near the row
of gas pumps and Sister Lucy reached out
to the dashboard.

“You see anyone around?"

No, he didn't, and the service doors
were down. He should've noticed that—
no business, nobody home. They'd left a
light on inside the station. He could see it.
through the BIG SPRING TIRE SPECIAL painted
on the window. There were credi d
emblems on the glass door and another
decal he knew something about: vas, black
letters on а gold field, VEDETTE ALARM SYS-
ng the place against breaking
ng. The place looked old, run-
down, not the kind you'd bother with.

Now what? There was the café across
the road, the farmboys still looking this
He glanced at the outside mirror and
his gaze held on a car parked directly
behind them, even with the gas pumps.

A black Chrysler sedan. One of the cars
that had followed them out of the center. A
guy in a tan suit came out from behind the
wheel. Now another guy joined him at the
front of the car. Dark-haired guys, Latinos.
Now they were out of sight, behind the
hearse.

ita to play dead and lock
your door. Right now. Quick.”

Sister Lucy did, just like that, without
looking at him or asking questions. She
straightened around again as one of the
Latinos appeared at her window, looking
. A little guy. He touched the window
and said somethi Spanish. She said in
English, “I can hear you. What is it?” Th
guy began speaking in Spanish again,
ter Lucy looking up at him about a foot
away from her, listening.

Jack turned as the other one came up on
his side, past him and around to the front
of the hearse. Both were little guys, 130-
pounders. Jack liked that. What he didn’t
like were their suit coats and open sport
shirts. Not migrant bean pickers, were
they? The one on Sister Lucy's
sunglasses; his print shirt was silk
was carefully combed. The other one
was Creole-looking, a light-skinned black
guy with pointy cheekbones and nappy

hair. He stared at the windshield while the
face close behind Sister Lucy continued to
speak to her in Spanish.

“He wants you to open the back. He

says they're friends of the deceased and
would like to see her a last time before she's.
buried. It to be now, because they

have business; they're unable to come to the
funeral.”

Jack said, “How does he know who's in
there? Ask him.” He waited while Sister
Lucy spoke to the face with sunglasses.
The guy said something, one word, and
hunched over trying to sec into the back of
squinting, shading his eyes
against his reflection in the glass.

Sister Lucy looked at Jack quickly,
about to say something. But the face with
the sunglasses straightened and began
speaking again, his expression solemn.

"He says they want to say a prayer for
the departed. He says they're determined
to do this, or they wouldn't be able to live
with themselves."

Jack waited because she kept looking at
him, her eyes alive, as though she wanted
to say more but couldn't, the face so close:
behind her. Jack nodded, taking his time,
making a decision. “Tell him I wish I
could help him, but it’s against the law to
show a body on the street.” She started to
turn and he said, “Wait. But tell him he's.
gonna see onc if his partner doesn’t move
out of the way, now, "cause we're leaving.”
He saw her eyes, for a moment, open wider
and saw the guy's face staring at him. Jack
“He understands, but tell him a
Put it in your own words."

She said, “Jack,” her voice low, “look at
me. He has a gun." The fingers of her right
hand slipped inside her jacket at the waist.
“Right here."

The man was talking again and she lis-
tened, still looking at Jack. “He wants to
know why we're being difficult.” Translat-
ing as the face with the sunglasses spoke
through the window. “Не says it will only
take a minute. He wants you to turn off the
motor and get out. With the key.” She lis-
tened again and then said, “If you try to
drive oll, someone will be dead in this
coach. If there isn't someone already.”

He saw her eyes and then she was turn-
ing away, saying something back to him
now in rapid Spanish, fluent, an edge to
her tone. The window framed the face
the sunglasses E SALE
behind him, lettered on the window of the
empty station with the light on inside and
the decals on the door.

Jack said, “Don't get him mad, OK?"
Не took the key from th
turned back to him as he opened the door.
“But keep talking.” He got out, pushed
the lock button down and closed the door.

He'd known guys like the face with the
nglasses and the Greole-looking guy
standing in front of the hearse, the guy
ц to face him as he came around.
nd like that in the big yard,
looking for some new guy to turn out, give

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PLAYBOY

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him that sleepy. mean look and not move
out of the way. The dead-eyed stare say-
ing, Walk around me, man.

He nodded and smiled at the
Creole-looking guy with the nappy hair as
he walked past him. “How you doing,
partner?” And said to the face with the
sunglasses, the guy stepping away from
the hearse, “This never happened to me
before. Long as I've been in the funeral
business." J pt moving toward the
station.

The guy said, “Hey, where you going?”
Coming after him now, the Creole-Iooking
guy closing in, too.

Jack stopped at the door and half
turned. “I have to get something.

"The face with the sunglasses, close to
him, said, “No, you can't go in there.
Look." He reached past Jack and tried to
turn the knob on the glass, wood-framed
door. "Sec? Is locked. You can't go in
there,”

Jack said, “Yeah, I guess you're right."
He looked around, frowning, and said,
“Shit. Now what am I gonna do? I have to
go to the toilet and the key's inside there.
See. it’s on the desk. Has a hunk a board
wired to it so nobody'll steal it. Toilet keys
being as valuable as they are.”

The face with the sunglasses said, “Со
someplace else. Tha’s no problem for
you.

"They stood close to each other. Jack said
in a quiet voice, “I think we both have a
problem. You want ту car key and I want
the key to the toilet. We're а couple of
desperate characters, aren't we? Despera-
does. You know what I'm saying to you?”
The face with the sunglasses staring at
him, not answering. “Only I'm more des-
perate than you are, partner. You don't
believe it, ГИ show you."

Jack turned to face the door, took а
short place-kick sort of step, his eyes on
the VEDETTE ALARM systems decal, and
punched the sole of a black loafer through
the plate glass.

The blast of sound from the burglar
alarm was so immediate and loud, he
barely heard the glass shatter, Even louder
than he'd expected. He looked around at
the guy in the sunglasses edging away. The
Creole-looking guy didn't move, and the
other one had to gesture to him. Jack
watched them move off in a hurry, turned
and there w: ter Lucy's face in the side
window, staring. And beyond the hearse.
the farmboys across the road, their heads.
raised to the clanging racket, heads turn-
ing now to follow the black Chrysler pecl-
ing its tires out of there, from shade into
sunlight and gone, down the blacktop
toward the interstate. Jack watched, too,
thinking, Well, there are other roads
home, with bathrooms along the way. He
had not felt this good in . . . he couldn't
remember.

The sister had a different look for him as.
he slipped
actly wide-eyed but sort of stunned, lips
parted, cyes staring in what he would like

behind the wheel. Not ex-

to think was respectful amazement. She
didn’t say a word. He didn’t, either, until
they were pulling away from that urgent
sound and he gave her his nice-guy smile.

“That's why I only went into hotel
rooms."

.
Jack took Lucy and Amelita in through
the rear door of the funeral home and up
the stairs without running into Leo. They
could hear a Rosary being recited in one of
the front parlors, the mechanical drone of
50 Hail Marys delivered by family and
those friends who hadn't got out in time.

Upstairs, Jack showed Lucy into Leo's

office so she could use the phone, Lucy
anxious now, nibbling at one of her finger-
nails. For something to do, he took Ame-
lita into the casket-selection room and
watched her browse. She ran her fingers
over the parquet finish of a Batesville cas-
ket done in solid oak, and Jack said,
"That's your Homestead model, with your
Tawny Beige interior. We can give vou
fiberboard, plastic, metal or hardwood,
from sixty to sixteen thousand dollars,
depending on your budget and how sorry
you are to see the loved one go. I'm glad
we're not putting you in one; you look too
healthy." She did, the overhead light shin-
ing in her dark hair, down to the middle of
her back in the flowery shirt, reflecting in
her dark eyes as she looked at him.
“They so nice inside" —touching the
wny сгере now— "so soft.
kc vou could sleep forever in there,
huh? Do you know where you're gonna Бе
staying?”

Tm going to LA. sometime, but I
don't know when. I hope soon; 1 always
want to go there.”

“То Los Angeles?"

“Yes, | have two of my aunts and a
grandmother live in L.A. | hear is pretty
nice there. When you put people in this,
do they have all their clothes on?”

“Yeah, they're completely dressed. Did
Sister Lucy say where you'll be staying in
New Orleans?”

“She said she find a place. I like this
pink color inside, very nice.”

“Well, Sister Lucy seems to know what
she's doing. You've known her a few
years:

Yes, a long time.”

"She told me what happened to you.
That was awful, the guy taking you away
from ur home. "Twice, in fact, huh? The
ime, you must've been just a kid.
You mean Bertic
-his-name, the colonel.”

“Yes, Bertie. Colonel Dagoberto Godoy
Diaz. He was very important in the
government, I mean before, the real gov-
ernment. He could buy one of these, even
the one you said, sixty thousand."

“Sixteen, not sixty. He killed a guy. The
doctor

sa

iow. He had so much anger, it was
ble.”

And you saw him do it.”

“Tha’s what I mean, to see him like

ter

HOW
|
NORKS

With traffic radar and Rashid VRSS both trans-
miting on the same frequency (24.150 GHz),
normal receiver technology can't tell one from
the other. Even when you scrutinize K band with
a digital spectrum analyzer, the two signals look
alike (Figure 1).

We needed a difference, even a sublle one,
the electronic equivalent of a human fingerprint.
Magnifying the scale 100 times was the key
(Figure 2). The Rashid signal then looks like two
separate traffic radars spaced slightly apart in
frequency, each being switched on and off several
thousand times a second.

Resisting the easy answer

Knowing this "fingerprint; it would have
been possible—although not easy—to design a
Rashid-recognizer circuit, and have it disable the
detector's warning section whenever it spotted a
Rashid.

Only one problem. With this system, you
wouldn't get а
warning if radar
were ever operat-
ing in the same
ly as the
Rashid. Statisti-
cally this would
be a rare situation.
But our engineers.
have no interest in
99 percent solutions.

When the going gets tough...

The task then became monumental. We
couldn't rely on a circuit that would disregard
two К band signals close together, because they
might be two radars. We couldn't ignore rapidly
switched K band signals, because that would di-
minish protection on pulsed radar (the KR11) and
“instanton”

RASHID
Figure 2: An electronic close-up
reveals two individual signals.

A whole new deal

The correct answer requires some pretty
amazing "signal processing; to use the engi-
neering term. The techniques are too complex
lo go into here, but as an analogy of the so-
ptistication, imagine going to a family reunion.
with 4.3 million attendees, and being able to find
your brother in about a tenth of a second.

Easy to say, but so hard to accomplish that.
our AFR (Allemaling Frequency Rejection) cir-
cuitry couldn't be an add on. It had to be inte-
grated into the basic detection scheme, which.
means extensive circuitry changes. And more
paperwork for our patent department.

If you own an ESCORT or PASSPORT: The new AFR circuitry
is incorporated in ESCORTS from number 1,200,000, and
PASSPORTs from 550,000. If your unit is earlier, read on.

|

Radar warning breakthrough #4
is now available from the same engineers
who made #1, #2, and #3

Bad news tor radar detectors. The FCC (Federal
Communications Commission) has cleared the
Rashid VRSS for operation on K band.

What's a Rashld VRSS?

The Rashid VRSSis а collision warning sys-
tem using a radar beam to scan the vehicles
path, much as a blind person uses a cane. It
may reduce accidents, which is very good news*

Now for the bad news

Unfortunately, the Rashid transmits on К
band, which is one of the two frequencies
assigned to traffic radar. Rashid speaks aradar
detectors language, you might say, and it сап
set off detectors over a mile away.

Faced with this problem, we could hope
Reshid installations will be few. Or we could in-
vent a solution.

Opportunity knocking

Actually, the choice was easier than it
sounds, because our engineers are in the habit
ofinventing remarkable solutions. In fact, inthe
history of radar detection, only three advance-
ments have qualified as genuine breakthroughs,
and all three came from our engineers.

Back in 1978, they were first to adaptdual-
band superheterodyne technology to the prob-
lem of traffic radar. The result was ESCORT,
now legendary for its performance.

In 1983, when а deluge of cheap imported
detectors was found to be transmitting on radar
frequency, our engineers came through again,
this time with ST/O/P”, a sophisticated circuit
that could weed out these phony signals before
they triggered an alarm.

Then in 1984, using SMDs (Surface
Mounted Devices), micro-electronics originally
intended for satellites, these same engineers
designed the smallest detector ever. The result
was PASSPORT, renowned for its convenience.

+ For more information on Rashid VRSS collision warning
system, see Popular Science, January 1986,

They sald It couldn't be done

Now we're introducing breakthrough num-

ber four. In their cleverest innovation yet, our

engineers have found a way to distinguish

Rashid from all other К band signels. It's the

electronic equivalent of finding the needie in a

haystack. The AFR" (Alternating Frequency Re-

jection) circuit isolates and neutralizes all

Rashid signals, yet leaves the radar detection
capability undiminished for your protection.

No walting forthe good stuff
When testing proved that AFR was 100
percent effective, we immediately incorporated
it into ESCORT and PASSPORT. Our policy is to
make running changes—not model changes—
whenever a refinement is ready. That way our
customers always get the latest science.

RASHO
Figure 1: А digital spectrum analyzer scanning the entire width
of K band cerit see the difference between radar and Rashid.

RADAR

AFR is fully automatic. There are no extra
switches or lights. Nothing for you to bother
about. The Rashid problem simply goes away.

Last year Road & Track called us "the
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tend to keep earning our accolades.

We make shopping easy too
Call us toll free. We'll answer all your ques-
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It you're not completely satisfied within 30
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Cincinnati Microwave
Department 007D

One Microwave Plaza.
Cincinnati, Ohio 45296-0100

© 1986 Cincinnati Microwave. Inc.

Cincinnati Microwave is committed to constant advancement
in radar warning technology. But we dont believe in planned
obsolescence. Therefore. we are working out aplan to cffer up

grades for most pre-AFR models (PASSPORTS under number
550,000, and ESCORTS from 200,000 through 1.199.999).
Since non AFR units vill require extensive modifications, new

procedures and facilities are being developed to ensure a
quality conversion. For details and costs of this retrofitting
program, see our ad in the January issue of this magazine.

|

|

1!

PLAYBOY

that." She hugged her arms and seemed to
shudder. “Not the same man | knew in
Managua." She reached into the casket to
feel the pillow, once again relaxed. "He
was going to enter me in the Señorita Uni-
verso, but the war became worse and he
had to leave, so I went home." She scemed
fascinated by the pleated material cover-
ing the pillow.

Jack took his time. “But now, the
understand it, he wants to kill you.”

“She tol” you that, uh? Yes, he was so
angry he thought he would get leprosy,
but he won't. You don’t give it to a person
that way, you know, like that disease now
is popular, or, the old one they call the
clop. Someone has to tell Bertie he won't
get it.”

Jack said, “Май. OK? This guy kid-
naped you. I mean before. He disappeared
you, came at night and grabbed you and
took you up in the mountains. Is that
right?”

“Yes, of course,” turning to him with a
look of surprise. “He want me to be with

him.” Her gaze softencd then as she said,
“When you like a girl very much, don’t
you want her to be with you? You have
girlfriends, I bet all kinds of them.” She
smiled, moving closer. *Good-looking guy
with expensive clothes," taking his seven-
dollar striped tie between her fingers, feel-
ing it. “I saw your nice rooms you have,
with a big refrigerator has beer and a bot-
tle of vodka in it. Sure, I bet you bring
girls here for the evening. Maybe stay all
night. Tell me the truth.”

“Once or twice I have.”

“You ever get in one of these with the
girl?"

Jack

id, “Are you serious?”
5’ wonder. It so nice and soft,”
touching the Tawny Beige crepe again.

He said, “Amelita, that’s a casket.”
“Like a little bed, uh?”

He said, “Why don't you go sit down,
take it easy.”

She gave him a sly look over her shoul-
der. “In your room? Yes, I think that
would be nice.”

“The latest public-opinion poll indicates that 90 percent
of the people do not believe in Santa Claus, and 75 percent of
these people think he’s doing a good job.”

He thought a moment and said, "If I
was the one pulled you out of the situation
you were in...”

УС?

“I'd seriously consider throwing you
back.”

She frowned. “You mad at me? Why?”

No, he wasn’t, really. Why bother? He
told Amelita not to wander off and left her
there to drcam among the caskets.

Jack walked down the hall and entered
the office to see Lucy seated on Lco's old
leather sofa, her legs stretched out, ankles
crossed. One sandal hung loose, and he
could see the curve of her instep. He won-
dered what she һай been like when shc
was a girl, before she became a nun. She
seemed relaxed, smoking a cigarette.
Looking up at him now, her eyes were
calm. Maybe because she trusted, she had
faith in something.

“They'll know Amelita's here, won't
they?"

I imagine they'll come and look."

“I have to get her on a flight tonight to
Los Angeles.”

Jack watched her draw on the cigarette,
then turn her head to exhale a slow
stream. He waited a moment before he
|, "And"—fecling himself alive but not
g to move and ruin the mood—
уоште wondering if a person with my
xperience, not to mention the kind of peo-
ple I might know, would be able to help
you."

Her eyes moved, the quiet gaze coming
back to him. She said, “It crossed my
mind.”

.

Roy Hicks was putting together an
array of pastel-colored drinks in stem
glasses along the inside edge of the bar,
topping them off with cherries, orange
slices and tiny parasols.

Jack watched him from the front end of
the bar, near the entrance to The Interna-
tional Lounge, “Featuring Exotic Dancers
from Around the World.”

One of the International girls took the
stool next to Jack, saying, "Hi, how you
doing?" With an accent that would
her an exotic dancer from around the East
Texas part of the world. “Му name's
Darla. You want to pet my monkey?"

Roy was at the cash register, punching
keys. He looked over his shoulder and
said, “Hey, Darla? Get your hand off his
dick. That's a friend of mine.”

Darla thought a moment. Maybe that’s
what she was doing; Jack wasn’t sure. She
swiveled around on the stool, looking over
the room, raised both arms to adjust the
halter holding her tired breasts and left
him.

Roy came down the bar, holding a bottle
of vodka by the neck. He poured a shot
into Jack’s glass, then twisted off another
one, Jack saying, “Darla’s got bruises on
her arm. You notice?”

“Bumping into the wrong guys. That
girl's a sack of roaches.”

“I read in the paper that in the U.S., 1

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a

PLAYBOY

think it was just this country
beaten or physically abused something like
every eighteen seconds.”

Roy said, “You wouldn't think that
many women get out of line, would you?”
Jack wondered why he remembered a
short piece in the paper about women
being abused but hardly anything at all
about Nicaragu

“Still hate women, huh, Roy?”

“Y love women. I just don't trust "em."

“I met one you can.”

“Yeah? Good for you

“And heard an amazing story you aren't
gonna believe.”

“But you're gonna tell me it anyway-

“You'd be hurt if I didn't. You'd pout
and probably never speak to me again. It’s
an opportunity story, shows you how you
can perform a service to humanity. The
kinda thing that makes you feel good.”

Roy said, "You understand
humanity every day cht hours
doesn’t make me feel worth a shit."

“You're too sensitive, Roy, for this kind
of life you're in.”

1 serve
nd it

“Tell me what we're talking about, will
you?"
“You've never heard of anything like

this, Roy. ГИ bet you a dollar."

“It has to do with the funeral busi-

ness?
Not unless somebody gets shot."

“This doesn’t sound like you at all,
Delaney.”

“I told you, lm a different person. You
want to know what it is, or you rather
guess?"

“I know every kind of scam or heist
there is grown men have tried to pull and
fell on their ass doing.”

“This's different,

“You met a woman vou
trust and she told you
I'm not gonna believe about .

“About lepers,” Jack said.

you can

ing story
»

an ата

Roy paused. “Lepers, huh? You know
why lepers never finish a card game
"They have to quit," Jack said, "when

they throw in their hands." He looked at
Roy with the same deadpan expression,
because he knew he had him and knew
they were going to play this one and might
even have a pretty good timc.

He said, “What I need at the moment is
a police officer. Or someone who knows
how t0 speak in that same ugly, obs
way they have of addressing offende:

б

Jack drove the Scirocco, rumbling in
second gear, up to the funeral parlor, the
street full of trees and the dark shapes of
big homes, warm lig 1 windows here
and there, a few porch lights showing
through hedges and shrubs.

Roy said, "Get Lucy to buy you a muf-
T think she can afford it.”
There's the car. What should I do?”

nc

"Ir's the same one, the Chrysler.”

“Go down the end and turn around,”

“The guy next to the driver, he's the onc
had the gun.

“I love that kind,” Roy said. "Come on,
turn around.”

“L have to get down there first, don't
1

Near the river end of the street, the dark
mass of trees opened to show bare tel-
cphone poles and vacant 1015 that
extended to the levee, a grassy barrier
against the night sky. Jack circled one of
in probed

es
y said, “Ease up behind them."

“I get out, too?”

“You come up on the curb side. Stand
close to the car but а few steps back, so
they can feel you but can't see you. It
might confuse 'em otherwise. What is this
guy, an undertaker or a cop? Before you
get out, write down the license number.”

"I don't have a pen.”

Roy said, “Jesus Christ,” took one out
of the inside pocket of his corduroy sports
coat and handed it to Jack. “You pull this
kind of official shit, you carry a pen and a
notebook. And you wear a suit or sports

on, paj was wearing a tan-
cotton blazer with jean:

“You look like an undercover Fed trying
to pass as a fucking Yuppie. 1 get thei
1.D.s, I give "em to you. Y
the car like you're gonna call it in, sce if
they're felons or they're wanted for any-
thing."

“You gonna show these guys a badge or
what

“Why don't you wait and sce what I do?
Then you'll know. Go on, pull up right be-
hind em.”

“Should I give em a bump?"
whiplash "em. "They'll be more
с”

Jack could see the two guys inside look-
ack this way, into his headlights. He.
iana plate,” stopped close be-
hind the Chrysler's shiny black rear deck
and wrote down the number as Roy said,

It's a rental,” and got out. By the time
Jack approached the curb side of the car,
Roy was asking the driver, the Creole-
looking guy, to sce his operators license.
‘The other one was leaning forward, saying
10 Roy, “He don't have to show you no
license. We have the permission. Who the
fuck are you, you don't know that?" He
was the dude in the sunglasses at the Ex
xon station.

Jack heard Roy say, “Sir, he may not want
to remove it from his person and show it to
me himself. But I'm gonna sce it, onc way
. Are we clear on that?”
cole-looking guy took out his
ying something to the other guy
k couldn't hear. And then Roy said to
the other guy, “You, too, sir, if you don't

come back to

mind. Fm curious to know who you ass-
holes are you think you can sit here any
time you want.” The guy on the passenger
side began talking about “the permission"
again, mad. Jack didn’t catch all the
words. Now the two guys were talking to
other in Spanish, Roy waiting.
Finally, the guy in the passenger seat took
a billfold out of his coat and Jack looked
up the street toward the funeral parlor.

The idea was, Lucy would drive off with
Amelita in the hearse, run her out to the
airport, while they kept the two guys busy.
He had phoned Lucy with the plan after
talking to Roy. Lucy said, as long as they
left by 9:30. It was now about 20 after.

Roy handed him both guys' driver's li-
censes and the rental-car envelope across
the roof of the Chrysler, the one who'd
been talking saying something now about
calling the district commander of police.

Jack walked back to his car and got in,
leaving the door open so he'd have light to
sce the 1.D.s. Crispin Antonio Reyna. This
was the dude, not the driver

The Greole-looking guy was Franklin de
Dios—the hell kind а name was that?—
42. His address was in south Miami.
jack got out to approach the Chrysler.
He saw Roy look back, then step away
from the side of the car and come to meet
him at thc rear deck

Roy said, “They're trying to tell me it's
an immigration matter and they have
police permission to sit there all they
nt"

You believe it?"

"That's neither here nor there. We'll go
on the assumption they're full of shit
Don't say a word if they ask you anything,
if you talked to the captain. OK?”

Roy walked back to the driver's side as
Jack moved between the cars to the curb,
He looked up again at the funeral parlor.
Not a light showing. He heard Roy telling
the driver, "You're giving me a bunch of
shit, aren't you? I think you better step out
of the car.”
jack heard Roy's voice, with that easy
cop drawl he put on, and looked at the
hearse all of a sudden popping its lights
and coming out of the driveway. Jack
watched it turn into the strect going away
from them, toward St. Charles, its red tail-
lights becoming tiny dots up there in the
dark, almost to the point of disappearing,
gone, when one of the two guys began yell-
ing in Spanish. Jack turned to see Franklin
de Dios of south Miami hunched over the
stecring wheel, reaching for the ignition.

There was no doubt they werc leaving,
with nothing in front of the car to keep it
there. Until Jack saw Roy reach in, grab a
handful of nappy hair and pull Franklin de
Dios’ head out to lay it on the window sill,
Roy saying, "You trying to run on me?”
Roy was reaching in again, now with his
left hand, and came out holding a pistol,
saying, “Uh-oh, what have we here?”

Jack was moving toward the other one

each

E

now, Crispin Reyna, having seen how it
done. He heard Roy telling Franklin
de Dios he could step out of the car or get
pulled dear through the window, heard
that and saw Crispin Reyna's hand on the
glove box, punching the button to open it.
Jack reached in and grabbed a handful of
Crispin Reyna’s hair and yanked him back
against the scat, hard. He changed hands
then, learning how to do this as he went
along, pressed the palm of his left hand
against the guy's face, to hold him there,
while he felt inside the glove box with his
other hand. Jack stepped back from the
car with a blue-steel automatic, holding it
lightly, looking at its dull sheen in the
streetlight. He liked the fecl of it. He
stepped back in when he saw Crispin
Reyna turn to look at him. Jack motioned
for him to face straight ahead and touched
the barrel to the guy's right ear.

Roy had Franklin de Dios out of the car
now, telling him to lean against it and

i оте on, spread
what he was told with-
out expression, his Creole-looking face
with its pointy cheekbones carved from
some kind of smooth, hard wood.

“Should we take these fuckers to Cen-
tral Lockup and then have to do all that
paperwork, or what?”

Jack said, “1 hate paperwork.”

Roy said, “It perturbs me off, too. What
do you think? The river’s right there.”

Jack saw Franklin de Dios’ calm eyes

staring at him, and he put his hand to his
face, elbow on the roof of the car. “The
mighty Mississippi, that’s a thought, The
currentd take ‘em clear down to Pilot
Town, If they can swim.”

“You wouldn't want to weight 'em down
none?”

“I thought we might give
chance."

Now Crispin Reyna was speaking, say-
ing they were fucking dumb cops and they
had better call their superior right now. “I
tell you we have the permission to be
here.”

“On second thought,” Jack said, “how
about drop "em in the Outlet Canal?
They'll be in the Gulf before morning.”
He saw Roy, taller than Franklin de Dios,
nodding.

“Less you want to take ‘ет to the
graveyard of strangers."

"Where's that?”

“John the Baptist Parish, in the swamp
They say if all the bodies dumped there
ever stood up, man, you'd have a crowd
could ВИ the Superdom

“It’s hard,” Jack said,

What they couldn't do was let them go
just yet. Lucy would need an hour ог so
free of worry and looking over her shoul-
der. So they put Franklin de Dios and
Crispin Reyna in the trunk of the Chrys-
ler, Crispin bilingual in his protests, but fi-
nally got them spooned against each other
like a couple of Angola sweethearts in the
Big Stripe dorm, Roy telling them to mind

ет а

and he'd let them out after a while.

They discussed the guns for a minute,
both ninc-millimeter Berettas. Beauties,
id, better than those six-shooter
Smiths cops had to pack when he was on
the force. They stuck the guns under the
front seat of Jack's car, then had a discus-
sion on the best place to leave the Chrys-
ler, with the key in the ignition. Jack
mentioned City Park, West End. Roy men-
tioned out toward Chalmette in St. Ber-
nard Parish there were a lot of good
places. Jack said, yeah, and nobody would
ever find them. Why go to all that trouble?
Drop ‘em clon the way downtown

"That's what they did. Roy drove the
Chrysler, with Jack following bchind, and
left it on Tchoupitoulas near Calliope,
where they used to park cars for the
world's fair. As Roy got into the Scirocco,

Jack was grinning, waiting to tell him,

It’s too bad we can't stay and watch.
Some guy's gonna come along and take off
with that Chrysler. Be driving down the
street and wonder what in the hell that
noise is, coming from the trunk. Like
somebody pounding to get out. Or he
hears a voice calling to him like it's from
far away, ‘Help, senor, help.”

Roy said, “Delaney, you're a weird
fucker, you know it

Jack didn’t say anything. He felt pretty
good. Whether or not Amelita deserved all
this didn't seem to r

atter.

SURGEON GENERAL'S WARNING: Smoking

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

Suggested retail price of Richland 25's s the same as that of regular prie

PLAYBOY

208

EARTH STATION

(continued from page 122)

“All the good things in life are gone too soon— youth,
drive and the original ‘Steve Allen Show.’”

channels. He belts the set, the age-old
remedy, but it is too late. He needs a new
set right away. Withdrawal pain sets in.

.

Tons Video City is staggering: two
square blocks of televisions, video record-
ers, wide screens, computers and all kinds
of hard- and software. Charley stands
there, dumfounded, as 500 sets zoom in on.
Gary Collins making a Waldorf salad on
Hour Magazine.

“Can I help you:
rather intense-lool
the kind of gu

2” Charley stares at a
ng young salesman,
who got perfect scores on

his SAT and wears а bathing suit with

black socks and sandals to the beach. “We
have more than seven thousand models of
electronic video and audio cquipme
here, eighty computer models, all the
brands of wide screens and our special
item, the carth station.”

“Whats the earth station?”
A fifteen-foot satellite dish that
ceives signals from the communications
satellites orbiting the earth. It's the most
powerful home unit ever made. With this
machine, you have the capability of watch-
ing television programs from all over the
globe with perfect reception. And it has
stereo sound."

“АП I really need is a nice color tele-
vision," Charley say:

“Why have just a television whe
can have the globe? With the earth sta
the world comes to you." The salesman is
getting excited.

“It sounds very expensive.

“We can work out a deal to suit you. 1
installed. my T's amazing: Last
night, I was having dinner and watching
Jerry Lew The Nutty Professor, all the
from Paris. Following that was A.M.
nd a Swedish soap opera where they
do iy amazing; the world

own.

flips through the diagrams and
pages of blueprints. It is complicated but a
challenge. He wants—he has—to do it.

.

Three days later, his hands hurting from.
squeezing pliers, his jaws sore from clench-
ing his teeth, Charley sits back on his heels
and gazes at the finished product. He has
screwed 527 screws, bolted 890 bolts, fast-
cued miles and miles of cable and wire and.
inserted dozens of tubes, gadgets, springs
and nuts into what looks like a radar sta-
tion in his back yard. Somehow, it will
work; it must work. Charley needs to sce
The Donna Reed Show from Rio; he needs
Barney Miller from Argentina. He necds
the world to come to him—he's much too
tired to go to it.

The TV dinner is heating, the cham-

pagne chilling as Charley makes the last
adjustments. In a way, he wishes Sheilah
were here to watch with him. She'd lost
faith in him. He hadn't accomplished any-
thing. “Lazy,” she'd say. “You're too lazy
to be boring. Boring would mean you were
doing something.”

Charley sighs. All the good things in life
are taken away too soon— youth, drive
and the original Steve Allen Show. His eyes
moisten as he pulls back the silver foil on
the peas of his Hungry Guy dinner. He
stares at the pathetic attempt at. peach
cobbler, Sheilah es the cobbler, too.
1 her one." He giggles and starts
to feel perky. The last time he felt op-
timistic was when Cavett went network.

At 7:58, he puts the Hungry Guy dinner
on the snack tray, which supports not only
this gourmet delight but a single red rose
cut from the neglected garden. He turns on
the earth station. Waves of anxiety fill his
lungs. His thighs pulsate as though he has
just been in a ncar-miss car accident. The
picture is slightly dim. A living room with
a plastie-covered couch in the background
is all he can make out. “Honey, where's
my glasses?" He knows that voice. Then a
naked man enters the picture. Holy Christ,
it is Jerry Berger, his neighbor. “I think I
left chem on the bar.” Berger's wife cntci
There she is in stereo on the screen, naked.

Charley is in a panic. What has he
done? Yes, he is awake; по. he isn’t hal-
lucinating. He is frozen still. Mrs. Berger is
now doing jumping jacks along with Rich-
ard Simmons. Her tits bouncing up and
down sound like polite tennis applaus

He carefully adjusts the channel two
notches to the left. What the hell is this? Is.
it the Gorman home? Mr. and Mrs. Goi
man are in their 70s now, a sweet, God-
fearing couple. She worked in the town
pharmacy for years, and he owned a small
hobby shop where he displayed his won-
derful collection of miniature trains. Now.
in retirement, they sit on the porch sipping
lemonade and counting the Cadillacs. А
Sunday doesn't seem right unless you see
the Gormans slowly walking home from
church, holding hands.

Tell me, Demetrius, do you want me?"
Mis, Gorman lies sprawled on her round
bed, wearing a chiffon nightic, with what
appear to be two Danish pastries over her
breasts. "Demetrius? Answer your queen.”

Old man Gorman, in a G string, com-
plete with sword in hand. his breasts sag-
ging more than hers, enters. Charley feels
faint. “Fair Cressida, I am but a sl
cannot look on thee.”

You need no longer be а slav
rasps.

“What do I have to do, my lady?”

“Make love to me like the monkeys do.”

With that, old man G. drops the G
string. His impressive genitals swing dan-
gerously closc to the floor аз he mounts his
beloved, crying, “Freedom, freedom!”
Charley looks like Buckwheat seeing a
ghost. American Gothic meets Screw maga-
zine. The Gormans are maniacs.

Charley laughs and turns the channel
There is Mrs. Mulgrew asleep on the
couch, a Reagan press conference on her
television screen. Two more turns to the
left bring the Sealy twins arguing over
clothes. The Benders are playing cards.
The Hubermans aren't home, but Charley
likes their new furniture.

The impossible has happened! He has
invented something so amazing, hc has to
lie down to think of the implications.

P

“Iwo days go by and Charley is still get-
ting the neighborhood. The Benders аге
not talking to each other, thc Hubermans
love tuna and Jerry Berger spends more
time on the toilet than someone just back
from Mexico. Charley charts the times and
places of his favorite moments. Working
quickly, he compiles a ten-page guide.

The first Earth Station Charley is a fine-
looking piece of work: two pieces of red
construction paper and ten pages of pro-
graming. He plans his day around his
neighbors’ activities as if they were Olym-
ic events. Why see a Donna Reed rerun at
eight At when he can have Breakfast with
the Hubermans? Lunch is always at 1:30
with Meet Linda Berger. Honey, Рт Home
40 minutes of Jerry Bender and his wife
not talking face to face. A slight break for
snacks, and then it's Love Those Gormans.
Tonight is Thursday, which means Mys-
tery Night. Who will he be and who will
she be? Charley feels alive again.

.

Weeks go by and Charley is still getting
the neighborhood. He decides to walk
down the block and say hello to the neigh-
bors. Stu Davis, the dentist, who has ter-
rible teeth, is watering his lawn as Charley
approaches. “Hey, Charley, what the hell
is that thing, anyway? You an alicn or
something?" He gestures toward Charley’s
satellite dish.

“No, it’s my carth station receiver for

my ТУ. I can get television from all over
the neighb— the world

“Wow. I'd love to see that sometime;
sounds great.”

“Oh, it is, it's really something; you
should see some of the shows I can get.”
Oops. As soon as Charley says it, he knows
he shouldn't. After all, he has watched the
Daviscs make love in the kitchen.

“Great, Га love to; PIL be over later.”

“Maybe tomorrow, Stu; today's kind of
bad; one of the satellites is out ol com-
mission." Charley beats a hasty retreat.
What am I, he thinks, but an electronic
Pecping Тот?

o
Back home, Charley thumbs through.
the real Earth Station Guide, looking for a

foreign program to watch. Hong Kong
Hillbillies: A Szechwan family inherits a
great war lord's palace. No, not interested.
The Pope and the Chimp: fun time ensues
when the Pope and the chimp masquerade
as house painters (R). Suddenly, he stops
thumbing. Live from Spain: The Running
of the Bulls of Pamplona. This is it. Charley
has wanted to go to Spain for years. It is
his dream to stroll the mighty plains, bat-
tle windmills and follow Don Quixote's
steps. Sheilah would never go. “Too
humid,” she'd say, or “Let's go to a fat
farm and lose some weight instead.” To
hell with Sheilah. He whistles Bolero as he
pops a Hungry Guy paella into the oven.
He carefully adjusts the dial to receive
the signal and flips the set on. The sud-
denness of the picture surprises
There it is—instantly—Pamplona, Т he
color is perfect; the music bursts through
the speakers. He is in Spain; the crowds
yell, taunting the bulls, as the camera
moves down the streets. His heart pounds;
tears fill his eyes as he feels the excitement.
‘The announcer moves through the crowds.
The leathery tanned skin of the people is
magnificent; the children squeal with fear
and laughter. Oh, the wonder of it all.
Charley digs into his paella but freezes
at the sound of a familiar voice.
g to be here, a real

“Ivs very exci
dream come true.”

Sheilah!

I always wanted to come here, but I
never had someone to come with me.”

Sy!

There they are, filling up the wide
screen. Sheilah, her straw hat with a min-
iature donkey fastened to it, her shopping
bag with oversized salad utensils in it. She
looks strange, with white gook all over her
nose, her lipstick applied too thickly. Her
eye make-up makes her look like a Fellini
extra or Ann Miller in the morning. Nex
to her, with his arm around her, stand:
his partner, wearing a polyester 5
E e tufts of hair sticking out of his c;
c never been so excited in my
Sheilah says in stereo.

Charley gags on the rice. This can't be.
Fires аге burning in his head; his lungs аге
esploding, his eyes bulging. No!

“1 always thought Spain would be more
humid.”

That does it. Ihe announcer laughs,
Sheilah and Sy laugh and embrace. Char-
ley lurches around the room, gasping for
air. He grabs the control knobs, but Shei-
lah is on every channel. Where arc the
Hubermans? Give me the Gormans!

The bulls are running down the streets
now, kicking and bucking at anything in
their way. People, taking their chances,
run out of every doorway. Charlcy
clutches his heart and hits the floor. He
lies there staring straight ahead, like Janet
Leigh in Psycho—from Atlanta

Charley has been canceled. The world
has come to him.

El

5

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The woods around our part of the country are
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either. So you can sit
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Lem Maton, Proprietor
nchbur Te

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CHARCOAL MELLOWED

FOR SMOOTHNESS

PLAYBOY

210

BEINB

па (continued from page 109)

* Tf they could retrofit me with normal eyes, I'd be lost

trying to find my way around in your world.

دوو

‘ou want to know how I sce.”
“Its pretty amazing, I have to say.”
“I don't sec. Not really. I'm just as
blind as you think Lam.”
“Then how——"
“Its called

dsight" Farkas said.

“Proprioceptive vision.
"What"
Farkas chuckled. "There's all sorts of

data bouncing around that doesn't have

the form of reflected light, which is what
your eycs sec. A million vibrations besides
those that happen to be in the visual part
of the electromagnetic spectrum are shim-
mering in this room. Air currents pass
around things and are deformed by what
they encounter. And it isn’t only the air
currents. Objects have mass, they have
heat, they have—the term won't make any
sense to vou—shapeweight. A quality hav-

“And when you're older, Tiny Tim, ГИ see to
il that you get plenty of girls!”

ing to do with the interaction of mass and
form. Does that mean anything to you?
No, 1 guess not. Look, there's a lot of inf
mation ayailable beyond what you can see
with eyes, if you want it. I want

“You use some kind of machine to pick
it up?" Juanito asked.

Farkas tapped
here. [ was born with 1

“Some kind of sen:
»

forchead. "It's in

nstead of

g organ

су
That's pretty close.”

"What do you sec, then? What do things
look like to you?”

“What do they look like to you?" Farkas
said. “What does a chair look like to
you?”

“Well,
back- d

“What does a leg look lil

“It's longer than it is wide."

“Right.” Farkas knelt and ran his hands
along the tubular legs of the ugly little
chair beside the bed. *I touch the chair, I
feel the shape of the legs. But I don't sce
Icg-shaped shapes."

What then?"

ver globes that roll away into fat
curves. "The back part of the chair bends
double and folds into itself. The bed's a
bright pool of mercury with long green
spikes coming up. You're six blue spheres
stacked one on top of another, with a thick
orange cable running through them. And
зо on."

“Blue?” Juanito said. “Orange? How do
you know anything about colors?"

“The same way you do. I call one color
blue, another one orange. I don't know if
they're anything like your blue or orange,
but so what? My blue is always bluc for
me. It's different [rom the color I sec as red
and the one I see as green. Orange is al-
ways orange. It's a matter of relationships.
You follow:
Juanito said. "How can you
possibly make sense out of anything? What
you sce doesn't have anything to do with
the real shape or position of ai

Farkas shook his head.
о. For me, what I see is th
shape and color and position. It’s all Гуе
ever known. If they were able to retrofit
me with normal eyes now, which Fm told
would be less than fifty
ceed and tremendously ides, Га
be lost trying to find my way around in
your world. It would take me уса
learn how. Or maybe forever. But I do all
ight, in mine. I understand, by touching
things, that what I sce by blindsight isi
the ‘actual’ shape. But I see in c

ivalents. Do you follow? A cl

its got four legs and а

though I know that chairs aren't really
shaped anything like that. If you could.
things the way I do, it would all look I
something out of another dimension. It is
something out of another dim
really. The information I operate by is
different from what you use, that's all
And the world I move through looks

оп,

completely different from the world that
normal people sec. But I do see, in my own
way. I perceive objects and establish rela-
tionships between them; 1 make spatial
perceptions, just as you do. Do you follow,
Juanito? Do you follow?"

Juanito considered that. How
weird it sounded. To see the world in fur
house distortions, blobs and spheres and
orange cables and glimmering pools of
mercury. Weird, very weird. Alter a
moment, he said, “And you were born like

very

this?”
“That's right.”
“Some kind of genetic accident?”

“Not an accident,” Farkas said quietly.
“I was an experiment. A master gene
splicer worked me over in my mother’
womb.”

“Right,” Juanito said. "You Know,
that’s actually the first thing | guessed
when I saw you come off the shuttle. "This
has to be some kind of splice effect,’ I said.
But why—why——” He faltered. “Does it
bother you to talk about this stuff?”

“Not really.”
“Why would your parents have
allowed —”

"They didn’t have any choice,
Juanito.

"Isn't that illegal? Involuntary splic-

ing?"

"Of course,” Farkas said. “So what?”

“But who would do that to à

“This was in the Free State of Kazakh-
stan, which you've never heard of. It was
one of the new countries formed out of the
Soviet Union, which you've also probably
never heard of, after the Breakup. My
father was Hungarian consul at Tashkent
He was killed the Breakup and my
mother, who was pregnant, was volun-
teered for the experiments in prenatal
gcnetic surgery then being carried out in
that city under Chinese auspices. A lot of
remarkable work was done there in those
years. They were trying to breed new and
useful kinds of human beings to serve the
new republic. 1 was one of the experiments

п extending the human perceptual range.

1 was supposed to have normal sight, plus
blindsight, but I didn't quite work out that
way."

"You sound very calm about it,"
¿Juanito said.

"What good is getting angry

“My father used to say that, t00,"
Juanito said. “Don't get angry, get even.”
He was in politics, the Gentral American
Empire. When the revolution failed, he
took sanctuary here.”
о did the surgeon who did my prena-
tal splice,” Farkas said. "Fifteen years ago.
He's still living here.”

“Of course,” Juanito said, as сусгуй
fell into place.

.
Phe man's name is Wu Fang-shui,”
Juanito said. “He'd be about seventy-five
years old, Chinese, and that’s all I know,
except there'll be a lot of money in finding
him. There can’t be that many Chinese on

Valparaiso, right?

“He won't still be
said.

Delilah said, “He may not even still be a
he.”

“Гус thought of that,” said Juanito.
“All the same, it ought to be possible to
trace him.”

“Who you going to use for the trace?”
Kluge asked.

Juanito gave him a steady stare. “Going
to do it myself.”

“You?”

Me, myself. Why the hell no
you've never done a trace, have you?”
here's always a first," Juanito s:
still staring.

He thought he knew why Kluge was
poking at him. А certain quantity of the
business done on Valparaiso involved find-
ing people who had hidden themselves
here and selling them to their pursuers,
but up till now, Juanito had stayed away
from that side of the profession. He earned
his money by helping dinkos go under-
ground on Valparaiso, not by selling peo-
ple out. One reason for that was that
nobody yet had happened to offer him a
really profitable trace deal; but another
was that he was the son of a former fugi-
tive himself, Someone had been hired to
do a trace on his own father seven years
back, which was how his father had come
to be assassinated. Juanito preferred to
work the sanctuary side of things.

He was also a professional, though. He
was in the business of providing service,
period. Ifhe didn’t find the runaway gene
surgeon for Farkas, somebody else would.
And Farkas was his client. Juanito felt it
was important to do things in a profes-
sional way

“If I run into problems,” he said, "I
may subcontract. Meanwhile, I just
thought I'd let you know, in case you hap-
pen to stumble on a lead. ГИ pay finders’
you know itll be good money.”
27 Kluge said. “ГИ see

ese,” Kluge

what I can do.”

“Me, too,” said Delilah.

“Hell,” Juanito said. “How many peo-
ple are there on Valparaiso altogether?
Maybe nine hundred thousand? | can
think of fifty right away who can't possibly
be the guy I’m looking for. That narrows
the odds some. What I have to dois just go
on narrowing, right? Right?”

P

In fact, he didn't fecl very optimistic.
He was going to do his best; but the system
on Valparaiso was heavily weighted in
favor of helping those who wanted to hide
stay hidden.

Even Farkas realized that. “The privacy
laws here are very strict, aren't they?”

With a smile, Juanito said, "They're
just about the only laws we have, you
know? The sacredness of sanctua It is
the compassion of El Supremo that has
turned Valparaiso into a place of refuge for
fugitives of all sorts, and we are not sup-
posed to interfere with the compassion of

El Supremo."

“Which is ver
understand.”

“Very. Sanctuary fees are renewable
annually. Anyone who harms a permanent
resident who is living here under the com-
passion of El Supremo is bringing about a
reduction in El Supremo's annual income,
you sce? Which doesn’t sit well with the
generalissimo.”

They were in Villanueva Café, E Spoke.
They had been touring V iso all day
long, back and forth п to hub,
going up one spoke and down the other.
Farkas said he wanted to experience as
much of Valparaiso as һе could. Not to see;
to experience. He was insatiable, prowling
around everywhere, gobbling it all up.
soaking it in. Farkas had never been to onc
of the satellite worlds before. It amazed.
him, he said, that there were forests and
lakes here, broad fields of wheat and rice,
fruit orchards, herds of goats and cattle.
Apparently, he had expected the place to
be nothing more than a bunch of alumi-
num struts and grim concrete boxes with
everybody living on food pills, or some-
thing. People from Earth never seemed to
comprehend that thc larger satellite
worlds were comfortable places with blue
skies, flcecy clouds, lovely gardens, hand-
some buildings of steel and k and
glass. Ё

Farkas said, "How do you go about
tracing a fugitive, then?"

expensive compassion, 1

"There are always ways. Everybody
knows somebody who knows something

about someone. Information is bought
595
Farkas said,

here the same way compassio

“From the generalissimo?”
startled.

“From his officials, sometimes. If done
with great care. Care is important,
because lives are at risk. There are also
couriers who have information to sell. We
all know a great deal that we
posed to know.”

“I suppose you know a great many fugi-

tives by sight, yourself?”
” Juanito said. “You see that
man sitting by the window?” He frowned.
“I don't know; can you sec him? To me, he
looks around sixty, bald head, thick lips,
no chin.”

“I sce him, yes. He looks
ferent to me.”

“I bet he does. He ran a swindle at one
of the Luna domes, sold phony stock in an
ofishore monopoly fund that didn't exist,
fifty million Capbloc dollars. He pays
plenty to live here. This one here—you
see? With the blonde woman?—an embez-
zler; that one, very good with computers,
reamed a bank in Singapore for almost its
entire capital. Him over there, he pre-
tended to be Pope. Can you believe that?
Everybody in Rio de Janeiro did.”

Wait a minute,” Farkas said. “How do

I know you're not making all this up?

You don’t,” Juanito said amiably.
“But I'm not.”

“So we just sit here like this and you

' not sup-

а little dif-

zu

PLAYBOY

212

expose the identities of three fugitives to
me free of charge?”

“It wouldn't be frec,” Juanito said, “if
they were people you were looking for.”

“What if they were? And my claiming to
be looking for a Wu Fang-shui was just a
cover?"

"You
Juanito s

"No," said Farkas. “I'm not" He
sipped his drink, something green and
cloudy. “How come these men haven't
done a better job of concealing their identi-
he asked.

They think they have,” said Juanito.
.

Getting leads was a slow business, and
expensive. Juanito left Farkas to wander
the spokes of Valparaiso on his own and
headed oll to the usual sources of informa-
tion: his father's friends, other couriers
and even the headquarters of the Unity
Party, El Supremo's grass-roots organiza-
tion, where it wasn't hard to find someone
who knew something and had a price for
it. Juanito was cautious. Middle-aged Chi-
nese gentleman Um trying to locate, he
said. Why? Nobody asked. Could be any
reason, anything from wanting to blow
him away on contract to handing him
1,000,000-Capbloc-dollar lottery prize
that he had won last year on New
Yucatan. Nobody asked for reasons on
Valparaiso.

There was а man named Federigo who
had been with Juanito’s father in the
Costa Rica days who knew a woman who
knew a man who had a freemartin neuter.
companion who had formerly belonged to
somcone high up in the census depart-
ment. There were fees 10 pay at every step
ofthe way, but it was ` money, what
the hell; and by the end of the week,
Juanito had access to the immigra
data stored on golden megachips зоте-
where in the Шери of the hub. The data
down there wasn’t going to provide any-
body with Wu Fang-shui's phone number.

n't looking for any of them,"

But what it could tell Juanito—and did,
800 callaghanos later—was how many
ethnic Chinese were living on Valparaiso
and how long ago they had arrived.

“There are nineteen of them alto-
gether,” he reported to Farkas. “Eleven of
them are women.”

“So? Changing sex is no big deal,”
Farkas said.

“Agreed. The women are all under fifty,
though. The oldest of the men is sixty-two.
‘The longest that any of them has been on
Valparaiso is nine years.”

“Would you say that rules them all out?
Age can be altered just as easily as sex.”

“But date of arrival can't be, so far as I
know. And you say that your Wu Fang-
shui came here fifteen years back. Unless
you're wrong about that, he can't be any
of those Chinese. Your Wu Fang-shui, if he
isn't dead by now, has signed up for some
other racial mix, I'd say.”

“He isn't dead,” Farkas said.

“You sure of that?”

“He was still alive three months ago
and in touch with his family on Earth.
He's got a brother in Tashkent.”

“Shit,” Juanito said. “Ask the brother
what name he's going under up here,
then.”

“We did. He couldn't get it.”

"Ask him harder."

“We asked him too hard,” said Farkas.
“Now the information isn't available any
more. Not from him, anyway.”

.

Juanito checked out the 19 Chinese, just
10 be certain. lt didn't cost much and it
didn’t take much time, and there was
always the chance that Dr. Wu had cooked
his immigration data somehow. But the
quest led nowhere. Juanito found six of.
them all in onc shot, playing some Chinese
game in a social club in the town of
Havana de Cuba on Spoke B, and they
went right on laughing and pushing the lit-
tle porcelain counters around while he
stood there kibitzing. They didn't act like

“You were right. It does break the ice."

sancluarios. They were all shorter than
Juanito, too, which meant either that they
weren't Wu, who was tall for a Chinese, ог
that Wu had been willing to have his legs
chopped down by 15 centimeters for the
sake of a more efficient disguise. It was
possible, but it wasn't too likely.

The other 13 were all much too young
or too convincingly female or too this or
too that. Juanito crossed them all off his
list. From the outset, hc hadn't thought
Wu would still be Chinese, апум

He kept on looking. One trail went cold,
and then another and then another. By
now, he was starting to think that Wu
must have heard that a man with no eyes
was looking for him and had gone even
deeper underground, or off Valparaiso
entirely. Juanito paid a friend at the hub
spaceport to keep watch on departure
manilests for him. Nothing came of that.
"Then someone reminded him that there
was a colony of old-time hard-core sanctu-
ary types living in and around the town of
El Mirador on Spoke D, people who had a
genuine aversion to being bothered. Hc
went there. Because he was known to be
the son of a murdered fugitive himself,
nobody hassled him. He of all people
wouldn't be likely to be running a trace,
would he?

The visit yielded no directly useful re-
sult. He couldn't risk asking questions and
nothing was showing on the surface. But
he came away with the strong feeling that
El Mirador was the answer

“Take me there,” Farkas said.

“I can't do that. It’s a low-profile town.
Strangers aren't welcome. You'll stick out
like a dinosaur."

“Take me," Farkas repeated.

“If Wu's there and he gets even a
glimpse of you, he'll know right away that
there’s a contract out for him and hell
vanish so fast you won't believe it.”

“Take me to El Mirador,” said Farl
“It’s my money, isn't it?"

“Right,” Juanito said. “I
Mirador."

EI Mirador was midway between hub
and rim on its spoke. There were great
glass windows punched in its shield that
provided a colossal view of all the rest of
paraiso and the stars and the sun and
the moon and the Earth and everything. А
solar eclipse was going on when Juanito
and Farkas arrived: The Earth was plas-
tered right over the sun, with nothing but
one squidge of hot light showing down
below, like a diamond blazing on a golden
ring. Purple shadows engulfed the town,
deep and thick, 2 hcavy velvet curtain fall-
ing over everything.

Juanito tried to describe what he saw.

Farkas made an impatient brushing ges-
ture.
“I know, I know. I feel it in my teeth.”
hey stood on a big peopl
tor leading down into the town plaza.
“The sun is long and thin right now, like
the blade of an ax. The Earth has six sides,
cach one glowing a different color.”

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PLAYBOY

214

Juanito gaped at the eyeless man.

“Wu is here,” Farkas said. "Down
there, in the plaza. I feel his presence.”

“From five hundred meters away

“Come with me."

"What do we do if he really is?”

“Are you armed?”

“I have a spike, yes.”

“Good. Tune it to shock, and don't use
itall ifyou can help it. I don't want you to
hurt him in any way."

“1 understand. You want to kill
yoursell, in your own sweet time.”

“Just be careful not to hurt him,”
Farkas said. "Come on.”

him

б
It was an old-fashioned-looking town,
cobblestone plaza, little cafés around its
perimeter and a fountain in the middle.
About 10,000 people lived there, and it
seemed as if they were all out in the plaza,
sipping drinks and watching the eclipse.
Juanito was grateful for the eclipse. No
one paid any attention to them as they
came floating down the pcople mover and
strode into the plaza. Hell of a thing, he
thought. You walk into town with a man
with no eyes walking right behind you and
nobody even notices. But when thc sun-
shine comes back on, it may bc different.
“There he is," Farkas whispered. “То
the left, maybe fifty meters, sixty."
Juanito peered through the purple
gloom at the plaza-front café beyond the
next one. A dozen or so people were sitting
in small groups at curbside tables under
iridescent fiberglass awnings, drinking,

chatting, taking it easy. Just another
casual afternoon in good old cozy El Mira-
dor on sleepy old Valparaiso.

Farkas stood sideways to keep his
strange face partly concealed. Out of the
corner of his mouth, he said, “Wu is the
one sitting by himself at the front table."

“The only one sitting alone is a woman,
maybe fifty, fifty-five years old, long red-
dish hair, big nose, dowdy clothes ten
years out of fashion."

“That's Wu.”

“How can you be sure?”

“It's possible to retrofit your body to
make it look entirely different on the out-
side. You can't change the nonvisual infor-
mation, the stuff I pick up by blindsight.
What Dr. Wu looked like to me, the last
time [ saw him, was a cubical block of
black metal polished as bright as a mirror,
sitting on top of a pyramid-shaped copper-
colored pedestal. I was nine years old
then, but I promised myself 1 wouldn't
ever forget what he looked like, and I
haven't. That's what the person sitting
over there by herself looks like.”

Juanito stared. He still saw а plain-
looking woman in а rumpled, old-
fashioned suit. They did wonders with
retrofitting these days, he knew: They
could make almost any sort of body grow
on you, like clothing on a clothes rack, by
fiddling with your DNA. But still Juanito
inking of that woman over
ter Chinese gene splicer in
disguise, and he had even more trouble
sceing her as a polished cube sitting on top

“I still think of you. I named my new boyfriend's
penis after you."

of a coppery pyramid.

"What do you want to do now?" he
asked.

“Let's go over and sit down alongside
her. Keep that spike of yours ready. But I
hope you don't use it."

“If we put the arm on her and she's not
Wu,” Juanito said, “it's going to get me in
a hell of a lot of trouble, particularly if
she's paying El Supremo for sanctuary.
Sanctuary people get very stufly when
their privacy is violated. You'll be expelled.
and ГИ be fined a fortune and a half and 1
may wind up getting expelled, юо, and
then what?”

“That’s Dr. Wu,” Farkas said. “Watch
him react when he sees me, and then you'll
ve it.

"We'll still be violating sanctuary. All
he has to do is yell for the police.”

“We need to make it clear to him right
away,” said Farkas, “that that would be a
foolish move. You follow?”

“But I don't hurt him," Juanito said.

"No. Not in any fashion. You simply
demonstrate a willingness to hurt him if it
should become necessary. Let's go, now.
You sit down first, ask politely if it's OK
for you to share the table, make some com-
ment about the eclipse. I'll come over
maybe thirty seconds after you. All clear?
Good. Go ahead, now.

.

“You have to be insane,” the red-haired
woman said. But she was sweating
astonishing way, and her fingers were
knotting together like anguished snakes.
“I'm not any kind of doctor and my name
isn't Wu or Fu or whatever you said, and
you have exactly two seconds to get away
from me." She scemed unable to take her
eyes from Farkas’ smooth, blank forehead.
Farkas didn't move. After a moment, she
said in a different tone of voice, “What
kind of thing are you, anyway?"

She isn’t Wu, Juanito decided.

The real Wu wouldn't have asked a
question like that. Besides, this was
definitely a woman. She was absolutely
convincing around the jaws, along the
hairline, the soft flesh behind her chin.
Women were different from men in all
those places. Something about her wrists.
The way she sat. A lot of other things.
There weren't any genetic surgeons good
enough to do a retrofit this convincing.
Juanito peered at her eyes, trying to scc
the place where the Chinese fold had been,
but there wasn't a trace of it. Her eyes
were blue-gray. All Chinese had brown
eyes, didn't they?

Farkas said, leaning in close and hard,
“Му name is Victor Farkas, doctor. I was
born in Tashkent during the Breakup. My
mother was the wife of the Hungarian con-
sul, and you did a gene-splice job on the
fetus she was carrying. That was your spe-
cialty, tectogenetic reconstruction. You
don't remember that? You deleted my eyes
and gave me blindsight instead, doctor."

The woman looked down and away.
Color came to her cheeks. S

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217

PLAYBOY

218

heavy seemed to be stirring within her.
Juanito began to change his mind. Maybe
there really were some gene surgeons who
could do a retrofit this good, he thought.

“None of this is true,” she said. “You're
simply a lunatic. I can show you who |
am. I have papers. You have no right to
harass me like this.”

“I don't want to hurt you in any way,
doctor."

“Тат not a doctor.”

“Could you be a doctor again? For a
price?”

Juanito swung around, astounded, to
look at Farkas.

“I will not listen to this," the woman
said. "You will go away from me this in-
stant or I summon the patrol.”

Farkas said, “We have a project, Dr.
Wu. My engineering group, a division of a
corporation whose name Рт sure you
know. Ап experimental spacedrive, the
first interstellar voyage, faster-than-light
travel. We're’ three years away from а
launch.

The woman rose. “This madness does
not interest m

“The faster-than-light field distorts vi-
sion,” Farkas went on. He didn't appear to
notice that she was standing and looked
about ready to bolt. "It disrupts vision
entirely, in fact. Perception becomes to-
tally abnormal. A crew with normal vision
wouldn't be able to function in any way
But it turns out that someone with blind-
sight can adapt fairly casily to the peculiar
changes that the field induces.”

"I have по interest in
about——”

“Is been tested, actually. With me as
the subject. But I can't make the voyage

3
32

hearing

“Never mind the porridg
using my vibrator?”

alone. We have a crew of five, and they've
volunteered for tectogenctic retrofits to
give them what I have. We don't know
anyone else who has your experience in
that area. We'd like you to come out of
retirement, Dr, Wu. We'll set up a com-
plete lab for you on a nearby satellite
world, whatever equipment you need. And
pay you very well. And ensure your safety
all the time you're gone from Valparaiso.
What do you say?”

The red-haired woman was trembling
and slowly backing away.

“No,” she said. “It was such a long time
ago. Whatever skills I had, I have forgot-
ten, I have buried.”

"You can give yourself a refresher
course. 1 don't think it's possible really to
forget a gift like yours, do you?" Farkas
said.

“No. Please. Let me be.”

Juanito was amazed at how cockeyed
his whole handle on the situation had been
from the start.

Farkas didn't зест at all angry with the
gene surgeon. He hadn't come here for
vengeance, Juanito realized. Just to cut a
deal.

"Where's he going?” Farkas said sud-
спу. “Don’t let him get away, Juanito."

The woman—Wu—was moving faster
now, not quite running but sidling away at
a steady pace, back into the enclosed part
of the café. Farkas gestured sharply and
Juanito began to follow. The spike he was
carrying could deliver a stun-level jolt at
15 paces. But he couldn’t just spike her
down in this crowd, not if she had sanctu-
ary protection, not in El Mirador, of all
places. There'd be 50 sanctuarios on top of
him in a minute. They'd grab him and
club him and sell his foreskin to the

—who’s been

generalissino's men for two and a half
callies.

The café was crowded and dark. Juanito
caught sight of her somewhere near the
back, near the rest rooms. Go on, hc
thought. Go into the ladies! room. ГИ fol-
low you right in there. I don't give a damn
about that.

But she went past the rest rooms and
ducked into an alcove near the kitchen in-
stead. Two waiters laden with trays came
by, scowling at Juanito to get out of the
way. It took him a moment to pass around
them, and by then he could no longer sce
the red-haired woman. Hc knew he was
going to have big trouble with Farkas if he
lost her in here. Farkas was going to have a
fit. Farkas would try to stiff him on this
week's pay, most likely. Two thousand
callies down the drain, not even counting
the extra charges.

"Then a hand reached out of thc shadows
and scized his wrist with surprising feroc-
ity. He was dragged a little way into a
claustrophobic games room dense with
crackling green haze coming from some
bizarre machine on the far wall. The red-
haired woman glared at him, wild-eyed.
“He wants to me, doesn’t he? That's
all bullshit about having me do retrofit
operations, right?"

“I think he means it,” Juanito said.

“Nobody would volunteer to have his
eyes replaced with blindsight.”

“How would I know? People do all sorts
of crazy things. But if he wanted to kill
you, I think he'd have operated differently
when we tracked you down."

“He'll get me off Valparaiso and kill me
somewhere else.”

“I don't know,” Juanito said. “1 was
just doing a job.”

“How much did he pay you to do the
trace?” Savagely. "How much? I know
you've got a spike in your pocket. Just

leave it there and answer me. How
much?”
“Three thousand callies a week,”

Juanito muttered, padding things a little.
you five to help me get rid of

Juanito hesitated. Sell Farkas out? He
didn't know if he could turn himself
around that fast. Was it the professional
thing to do, to take a higher bid?

Eight," he said, after a moment.

Why the hell not? He didn't owe Farkas
loyalty. This was a sanctuary world; thc
compassion of El Supremo entitled Wu to.
protection here. It was every citizen's
duty. And 8000 cal was a big bundle.
Six five," Wu said.

"Eight. Handshakc
your glove?"

"The woman who was Wu made a mut-
tering sound and pulled out her flex ter-
minal. “Account eleven thirty-three,”
Juanito said, and they made the transfer of
funds. “How do you want to do this?”
Juanito asked.

“There is a passageway into the outer
shell just behind this café. You will catch

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PLAYBOY

220

sight of me slipping in there and the two of
you will follow me. When we are all inside
and he is coming toward me, you get
behind him and take him down with your

spike. And we leaye him buried in there.
‘There was a frightening gleam in Wu's
eyes. It was almost as if the cunning

retrofit body was melting away and the
n uth was emerging, moment
by moment. “Yon understand?" Wu said.
A fierce, blazing look. “I have bought you,
boy. 1 expect you to stay bought when we
are in the shell. Do you understand me?
Do you? Good.”

al Wu bene:

б

It was likc a huge cr: acc surround-
ing the globe that was El Mirador. Around
the periphery of the double shell was a
deep layer of lunar slag held in place by
centrifugal forces, the tailings left over
alter the extraction of gases and mine:
that the satellite world had needed in its
construction. On top of that was a low,
open area for the use of maintenance
workers, lit by a trickle of light from a
line ol andescent bulbs; and overhead
was the inner skin of El Mirador itself,
shielded by the slag pile from any
prises that might come ricocheting in from
the void. Juanito was able to move almost
upright within the shell, but as, fol-
lowing along behind, had to bend double,
scuttling like a crab.

“Can you see him yet?” Farkas asked.
“Somewhere up ahead, I think. ICs

wl s]

Juanito s ging sideways, mov-
ing slowly around behind Farkas now. In
the dimness, Wu was barely visible, the

2 DM
tus c eo
Т=П Í

CAE A

shadow of a shadow. He had scooped up
two handfuls of tailings. Evidently, he was
going to fling them at Farkas to attract his
attention, and when Farkas turned toward
Wu, it would be Juanito's moment to nail
him with the spike.

aito stepped back to a position near
left clbow. He slipped his hand
is pocket and touched the cool, sleck
ity stud was down
at the lower end, shock level; and without
taking the spike from his pocket, he moved

like a wild

Farkas roared
creature. Juanito grunted in shock, stupc-

Suddenly,

fied by that terrible sound. This is all
going to go wrong, he realized. A moment
later, Farkas whirled and scized him
nd the waist and swung him as if hc
re a throwing hammer, hurling him
through the air and sending him crashing
with tremendous impact into Wu's mid-
section. Wu crumpled, gagging and puk-
ing, with Juanito sprawled, stunned, on
top of him. Then the lights went out—
Farkas must have reached up and yanked
the conduit loose—and then Juanito
found himself lying with his face jammed
л into the rough floor of tailings.
Farkas was holding him down with a hand
mped around the back of his neck and a
pressing hard against his spine. Wu
lay alongside him, pinned the same way.
Did you think I couldn't sec him
sneaking up on me?” Far asked. “Or
you, going for your spike? 105 three
hundred and sixty degrees, the blind-
sight—something Dr. Wu must have for-
gotten. All these years on the run, I guess

aro

“What would I like to have for Christmas? А
multiple orgasm!"

you start to forget things.”

Jesus, Juanito thought. Couldn't even
get the drop on a blind man from behind
him. And now he's going to kill mc. What
а stupid way to die thi

He imagined what Kluge might s
about this hc knew. Or Delilah.
attathaniel. Decked by a blind man.

But he isn't blind. He isn't blind. He
isn't blind at all.

Farkas said, "How much did vou sell
me to him for, Juanito?”

"The only sound Juanito could make was
а mullled moan. His mouth was choked
with sharp bits of slag.

“How much? Five the

“It was eight,”

“Ar least I didn’t go cheaply
murmured. He reached into Juanito's
pocket and withdrew the spike. “Get up,"
he said. “Both of you. Stay close together.
If either of you makes a funny move, ГИ
kill you both. Remember that I can sec
you very clearly. I can also sce the door
through which wc entered the shell. That

ad? Six?"

starfish-looking thing over there, with
streamers of purple light pulsing from it.
We're going back into El Mirador now,

and there won't. be any surprises, will
there? Will there?"

Juanito spit out а mouthful of slag. Не

job we need you for. That isn't so bad,
considering what | could do to you for
what you did to me. But all I want from
you are your skills, and that’s the truth.

You are going to need that refresher
course, aren't you, though?"
Wu muttered something indistinct

arkas said, "You can practice on this
you like. Try retrofitting him for
Isight first, and if it works, you can do
our crew people, all right? He won't mind.

Aren't you, Juanito? Eh?
‘kas laughed. To Juanito he said,
ything works out the right way,
maybe we'll let you go on the voyage with
. boy." Juanito felt the cold nudge of
the spike in his back. “You'd like that,
wouldn't you? The first trip to the stars?
What do you say to that, Juanito?”

Juanito didn't answer. His tongue was
still rough with slag, With Farkas prodding
him from behind, he shambled slowly
along next to Wu toward the door that Farkas
looked like a starfish. It didn’t look
at all like a fish to him, or a star, or
like a fish that looked like a star. It looked
ikea door to him, as far as he could tell Бу
the feeble light of the distant bulbs. That
was all it looked like, a door that looked
са door. Not a star. Not a fish. But
there was no use thinking about it, or an
thing else, not now, not with Farkas nudgin
him between the shoulder blades with
his own spike. He let his mind go blank
and kept on walking.

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(continued from page 111)
such as the Reverend Sylvio Claude,
describe it as a great, great, great suc-
cess; “We have made known the Will of
the People

But, of course, it also means that the
genuine grievances are not answered,
the police come out in the streets with
their Uzis and the ruling council is ст-
boldened.

Elections had better happen soon—they
are presently planned for November 1987.
And how can there be ап clection in
country that has ncver had a real one,
where 85 percent of the people arc illiter-
ate and Baby Doc claimed the
dum with a cozy vote of 99.9 percent? The
candidates have their work cut out

А cabdriver informed me, with rage in
his voice, that two people had been killed
the night before by a thief up thc hill a
little from the Hotel Castel d’Haiti. “Lib-
erty, yes,” he said, "but that is mere
democracy." Like almost all chaulfeurs,
he was, no doubt, a former Tonton
Macoute, or Duvalier bogeyman.

In their joy at thc departure of the Du-
r oppressors, civic volunteers had
cleaned the streets—and slaughtered
scores, maybe more, of Macoutes.

We drove to see the emplacement near
the port, where the statue of the first
colonialist had been uprooted and thrown
into the sea. Columbus landed on this
island many years ago. “Deshokage, mon-
sieur," said the cabdriver—that's the Cre-
ole word for uprooting

ast referen-

WHERE 15 HAITI? WHERE 15 HAITI?

1 once asked my uncle and aunt, just re-
turned from a cruise of the Caribbean,
ch island they had liked best. My uncle
turned to his wife and said, "It was num-
ber three, wasn't it?"

Ata higher level of sophistication, an
American Secretary of State, William Jen-
nings Bryan, turned to a resident of Haiti
and said, "We are very interested in Haiti
Tell me, where is Haiti?”

The resident answered something and
the distinguished creationist and politician
replied, “Niggers speaking French! Fancy
that!”

The first black nation of modern times,
a slave people that wrested its freedom
from Napoleon in 1804, at the height of his
powers, has always been a miracle, a won-
derment, an enigma, The peasant ge
phers say, "Beyond the mountain lies
another mountain." This makes for agri-
cultural dilliculties—farmers are killed
falling out of cornfields. And beyond the
mystery of Haiti—France and Africa, voo-
doo and Christianity, energy and languor,
art and changelessness—lie a host of other
problems

How the devil can this dying nation sur
vive its history, which most recently in-
cluded the 28-year reign of the gang of

thieves called the Duvalier family? There
was Papa Doc, who wanted to be Emperor
Francois the First (I once saw a poster dc-
picting Jesus embracing the black-clad tor-
turer, saying, “1 have chosen him"), and
his appointed successor, the son, Baby
Doc, who didn't like the name I gave him:
Furniture Face. How can Haiti make it?

Violence is disappearing because a
peaceful folk is slaughtering the violent
one.

Inside every Haitian, there is a sleep-
ing president. — CREOLE PROVERB

And outside of the candidate, there is
somcone who wants either to be his hench-
man or to Rill him.

My friend Е. Morisseau-Leroy, poet
and playwright, director and superlative
joker, arrived home from exile. He was
met by radio and television crews. He
stood in the airport and said proudly and
loudly, “I have an important announce-
ment to make!” His aureole of white hair
blew about his head as he raised his arms
in a statesmanlike greeting to his well-
wishers: “I lly . . . not a candi-
date for the presidency! At least there
must be one who is not!”

But he has returned to Miami to write
his books and spend his days among his
family. And so now, perhaps, there is
nobody in Haiti who is not a candidate.

Besides the usual 6,000,000 candidates,
some authorities estimate that there are
200 carnest ones. I cut this figure to 199
when one was arrested for reckless driving
in Connecticut. This relieved my
burden—now only 199 saviors of the na-
tion want to be addressed as Your Ter-
rificness, Your Wondrosity, For a few, Your
Excellence might do. For example,
Colonel Williams Regala, a member of the
ruling junta—as it would be called in a
Spanish-speaking country
scck to do nothing but serve the pcoplc.
History will jud;

Uh-oh. When a colonel speaks of his-
tory, let's run to the churches of our choice
and pray.

1 visited threc of the most interesting
figures—the Reverend Sylvio Claude, a
popular Protestant pastor; René Théo-
dore, a Communist with strong links in
Moscow and Paris; and Marc Bazin, a dis-
tinguished economist who left his bricf
appointment as finance minister under
Baby Doc because he couldn't el
s. Claude has gotten people out into the
streets. Théodore enjoys a small success as
the first openly Communist activist in
years. Bazin, probably the best qualified
for his position, is supported by a group of
earnest reformers and technocrats.

With well-trained Haitian French logic,
a friend sorted out the three types of presi-
dential candidates. There are those who
are capable and won't steal. “Monsieur
Clean, plus brains.” There are those who
steal but don’t want to get caught. “Brains
but not clean.” And ther
steal and don't care if they’re caught. “Мо

m offici

announced, “I

me."

1 up the

are those who

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brains, no clean.

Т got a six AM. appointment
Bazin. | drove to Belvedere, high in
the mountains behind Port-au-Prince,
where he met me in a jeep and escorted me
to the terrace of a large stone house. Bazin
is a tall, sturdy, vital man who looks much
too tough and happy to be a staid seni
official with the World Bank, which was
his job while in exile from Haiti. He was.
recently married for the first time. As a
friend explained, һе had thought it better
10 make many women happy than to make
one woman u

We spoke of the need to get back some of
the treasure stolen by the Duvalicr family.
Papa Doc spent the moncy on his security
system. He wanted power in Haiti and
planned to remain until his evil spirit was
laid to rest. by Doc used the security
machinery—the Tonton Macoutes, the
torture—to capitalize the family for his
eventual retirement. The Duyaliers should
be able to survive on the $700,000,000 or
hed ay

to see

$800,000,000 he has sta er
haps, with diplomatic pressure, we can get
some of it back,” Bazin said.

This laborious people, groaning under

65 percent unemployment, needs food,
work, roads, a water supply, health care.
ny investment. that involves labor will
have a ripple effect on the economy. That
so intelligent and forceful a man as Bazin
wants to take hold is in itself a hopeful sign
for Haiti. He has made a comfortable
career at the World Bank. If he ling
to work for Haiti in Haiti, perhaps other
talented Hai ig to work
for their count n, against
jan genius, to con-
cs

among the magnificent hillside
of Pétionville, Le Boule and Ken-
n gates, swimming pools, floodlit
—1 saw unashamed symbols
lc of the 450 millionaires in

tennis cou
of the lifest
this poorest of nations. The man in the

Rolls-Royce finds tax evasion a
engaging sport than tennis.

more

THE TRAGEDY OF THE BLACK HAITIAN PIG

What follows is a nonkosher riff. When I

first arrived in Haiti 33 years I
thought those were exceptionally agile,
intelligent and curious little black dogs
darting around the ditches, gardens, gar-
bage holes and feet. They didn't bark; they
didn’t look at thesky. They kept to business.

The black Haitian pig was the peasant's
pride and joy, his pet, his love, his bank
account, his insurance policy. It was the
vacuum cleaner that got rid of waste. It ate
lizards, rubbish, even insects. Perhaps it
lived on ideas and fantasy, too, like c
one else. It showed a touch of fanaticism
about its continuous rooting. Eventually.
it provided the essential ingredient of
griols, the Haitian staple, tight, deep-fried
litle curls of piglet served with r nd
beans—charming charcoal-smoked pro-
tein, And, just as important, certain voo-
doo ceremonies demanded the sacrifice of

the cochon planche, the little bugg

One theory of Baby Doc's downfall is
that it was brought about by the pig trag-
edy. The CIA did it. The Iowa farmers,
working through the CIA, did it. The
Americans came in and said that the pigs
were ected with the dreaded African
swine fever. Every single one had to go
Weeping and stubborn anger among the
peasants and the priests. The Americans,
with the cooperation of Baby Doc—how
could he? How could he have?—swept
through the country pignaping, mad with
pig lust. They gave money for each pig.
They would eventually replace the Hai-
ап pigs with huge pink-and-w
can porkers. But that wasn’t the point.
The American pigs, clumsy and stu
couldn't be led to market on а string,
weren't cute; they weren't voodoo-
ellective; they weren't the pig of myth and.
dream. More practically, they seemcd to
require corn to thrive—corn that had to
Бе imported from Iowa, corn that nobody
could afford, corn that made the pe:
dependent in still another way on the
American dole.

Let's nag at this point a little,

The pink-and-white, sometimes ridicu-
lously spotted American pig, as giant and
tupid as a cruise-ship tourist, munches
with its little tail extended like a tea drink
cr's pinkie. Its meat is bland. lis soul
emp! 1 for tronghs and pens. The
gods reject it on Saturday night. Only a
president for life, capable of betraying his
people by marrying a divorced hussy with
relatives in the cocaine trade, would allow
rniture Face even looks
self. And now, of course,
an exile for life, though he seems to
possess his hundreds of millions in stolen

с Ame

sants

The gods and the Swiss law get
some of it back. Haiti has re-
claimed Furniture Face's Rolls-Royce, his
Mercedeses (plural), his Jaguars, his
BMWs, his speedboats and yachts and
quite a few of his motorcycles. Just about
5700,000,000 or $800,000.000 to go.
Surcly, this also is part of the pig story.
Naturally, during the pig pogrom, a few
clever farmers, influential politicians and
idealistic voodoo priests managed to hide
their hercic fugitives. They are beginning
to emerge now. You still sec the ugly
American pigs. In the market place of
Kenscoff, a Haitian friend pointed to the
roasted pink American meat. “No taste,”
he said, “no good for griots. I spit on it.”

Then Madam Sara—market lady—
laughed and said, “Wait a little."

The new government is declaring an
amnesty for the condemned. The survivors
will come out of hiding. They will root
public like free black pigs in a happy pig
world. Let the Americans deal with the
virus if they don’t like it. The gods require
cochon planche.

THE MILITARY STRICTNESS OF HAITI

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lived there with my first wife and two
small children. When I complimented him
on his Eisenhower jacket, that short mili-
tary uniform made popular by an Ameri-
can general and President celebrated in
his time, the Haitian colonel misunder-
stood what | was saying. “You find?" he
responded proudly. “Yes, when I step into
Café Society Downtown in your Green-
wich Village, everbody and master of
ceremony say, ‘Ooh, eet ces General
Eisenhower. Ooh, no, cet ees the Colonel
Willy from the armed forces of the répu-
blique of Haiti, performing tour of military
inspection on behalf of his so beautiful
countree! ”

1 failed to get a clear picture of the jazz
lovers of Sheridan Square rising in awed
unison to pay tribute to the Haitian officer.

My pretty young wife and I were invited
to a party at the National Palace, where,
nearby, the munitions for the army were
kept under guard by the president's
henchmen. After the party, we were
offered a ride home by Colonel Willy, who
had a plan. I was pushed into one chauf-
feured military Buick, while my wife was
urged into the colonel’s limousine. Uh-oh,
I thought, this will be a contest of wills—
the hero of Haiti v

a nice girl from Detroit.

My wife arrived home an hour later,
grumpy but probably not as grumpy as
the colonel. Yes, he һай attempted seduc-
tion in the limo. It got a little heavy. So she
stuck her finger down her throat and threw
up on his Eisenhower jacket

The colonel was irked with us for wecks.
In those days, an officer with strict stand-
ards had to send his “jacket Eisenhower”
by special plane to Miami for the first-
class dry cleaning fine garments deserve.

BUT THOSE WERE THE GOLDEN DAYS.

This cute decadence was relatively af-
fable, with only an occasional unexplained
murder or disappearance and the normal
level of graft and corruption. The widow of
an officer in charge of the electrification of
a section of Port-au-Prince sued in Haitian
courts for the bribe owed her husband and
won. Drivers were advised to back up and
run over again anyone they happened to
hit on the roads, because all you paid was
$60 or so in funeral expenses, but you'd
have to pay hospital costs for the injured

My friend Fortuné Bogat showed me his
license to carry a pistol, which pledged
that it was “to be used only against ban-
d beasts, burglars, etc," and
ol the people he shot
were etc.s. Later, when I sat on the arm of
his wife's chair, he pointed it at me,
I resembled an etc.

ian art thrived. American women
loved handsome Haitian officers and busi-
nessmen. Americans discovered the
merengue, the beauty of the countryside,
the sweetness of the people. Voodoo was

exotic and the music was happy. It was
French and African and a tasty bit of
strangeness. American homosexuals
learned a few secrets about Haiti—that in

a poor country, boys are available. Also,

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the Grand Hotel Oloflson became a mecca
for Maron Brando, Truman Capote,
James Jones, Lillian Hellman, John Giel-
gud and thousands of others who found
the gingerbread palace the most charming
inn in creation. I showed Graham Greene
about; he bought me dinner and,
return, I nearly bankrupted myself buying
him drinks. Later, he wrote The Come-
dians, a savory melodrama about the
Duvalier madness, made into a film with
Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor and
all my friends and enemies represented
by actors. Greene was the father of The
Comedians, but I felt like its obstetrician,
since I had introduced him to Aubelin
Jolicocur, that flirtatious, white-clad,
cane-twirling model for Petit Pierre,
Al Seitz and others.

In 1956 and 1957, the cute decadence
rapidly degenerated into the horror of
Papa Doc in his black garb of Baron
Samedi, an evil and powerful voodoo god.
"The Tonton Macoutes extorted, torturcd,
castrated, killed and wore tacky sun-
glasses. Even a Duvalier family doctor got
caught in their mesh and was beaten, hus-
tled into а palace dungeon and forced to
drink his own urine, Friendship and loy-
alty became confusing. In onc house,
everyone by the name of Benoit, including
the dogs, was killed, because a man of that
name was reputed to be a dissident. Bod-
ies were exhibited at the airport. On the
day President John F. Kennedy was as-
sassinated, І was on assignment in Haiti
and heard the wild celebration at the Na-
tional Palace, saw the building lit up while
the rest of the city was blacked out. Papa
Doc believed that his pins in his Kennedy
doll had done the job.

In Pétionville, Macoutes with automatic
weapons stood me up against a fence. One
pinched my balls to express disdain. When.
I complained to the chicf of police in Port-
au-Prince, he smiled and remarked, “1
guess they don't like journalists whose.
names arc colors—Greene, Gold. . . .”

When my article appeared, 1
banned from Haiti
ident for life, | was ba
Baron Samedi turned out to be mortal;
my case, the matter is not yet settled. I
received my new visa in the form of a post-
card of a lovely Creole maiden standing in
a waterfall, with a message from Aubelin
Jolicocur: “Herb! Please come back to sec
your friends! We miss you!”

Réfradaires—what might be called
aginners—have been bred by Haitian his-
tory. To be educated, even overeducated,
is a tradition of the elite. 1 was treated for
malaria many years ago by the only doctor
I could find during a five-day holiday: a
man who was both a doctor and a lawyer
practiced either trade. He
preferred to investigate, contemplate and
cultivate his own His brothers,
uncles, father, cot ges of the
supreme court, ambassadors and coffee
traders. His grandfather had been presi-
dent for a few days before being deposcd

was

and torn to bits by a mob.

Such a man, a member of the elite,
would have his own child servants, called
ti-mounes, or “little people,” who would car-
ry his tennis racket to the court and
then chase the balls. The Haitian elite has
grace and good posture—no burdens on
its head or shoulders. Its members can
make love without embarrassment, and
even without lubrieiousness, with little
black servants in the room. It's as if the.
servant were a dog or a pet bird. It does
not concern them.

The snobbery of that class was impres-
sive. I used to be invited as a guest to the
Cerde Bellevue in Bourdon, a country
club that admitted neither blacks nor
whites as members. A pretty lady сх-
plained to me, sailing on a Sunday, that
there were no blacks in her family—she
was descended from an infinite serics of
mulattoes
The charm of Haiti's sophisticated elite
rcal. The suffering of the overwhelming
majority, exemplified by the Boulevard de
Millionaires, comes from another
verse. What people call the Boulevard of.

Millionaires is a stretch of road in down-
town Port-au-Prince, near the picturesque
Iron Market, jammed with market
women, carts, donkeys, orphans, peddlers
selling a piece of chewing gum or an empty
milk can, the sick and dying, the pregnant,
the newborn—an urban ravinc dumped
with desolate humanity. These people are
not doctor/lawyers. They have malaria.
yaws, syphilis, AIDS and, among thc chil-
dren, kwashiorkor, that belly-swollen pro-
tein starvation, that frizzy reddish hair,
that I remember from the war in Biafra.

An American friend, invited by Michele
Bennett Duvalier to visit the National Pal-
ace, reported that it had been redecorated
all in pinks and creams: “It’s as pretty as
the White House would be if we could only
afford it.” Things don't seem to change
around here.

The effete English writer Ronald Firbank
once wrote a postcard to his friend
Sir Osbert Sitwell: “Tomorrow I go to
Haiti. They say the president is a perfect dear”

Baby Doc’s füther was not a perfect
dear. Enacting Baron Samedi in his func-
real garb, he was the god of S

*He deals in promises, hopes and anticipations. I prefer
lo go lo a store and get what I want.”

228

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because Christ was crucified on Fri
and didn’t rise till Sunday—Baron Samedi
rules the time when there is no savior.

It wasn't just a metaphor. The castra-
tions, tortures, murders, extortions and
general rudeness were real. People say that
nothing is permanent in this world; but in
Haiti, nothing is merely temporary, either.
Certain ambiguities persist: poverty, risk,
the sun, the glory of pride, that unique
Haitian sense of fun about things. When I
ran with the best Haitian runni
including the man who finished last at the
Montreal Olympics—pcasants along the
Kenscoff trail shouted, “Look, a white man
running! Sweating! And he's not even a
thief!” And their laughter followed me
beneath the scent of cucalyptus and pi
the trees that remained when the coflee
and mahogany were cut down for fuel

The Haitian champion was a good run-
ner. At Montreal, he was confused. He
wasn’t used to running with shoes. He had
never been on an airplane before. He
needed training and confidence. I had
plenty of confidence but am a mere Ca
fornia health addict, not a runner.

As I ran, I remembered following the
sound of the drums in the mountains
above Kenscoff—drums, whistles, bam-
boo sticks—to watch а coumbile, a cooper-
ative work r clearing a field of its гос)
and gathering them to make a house. They
chanted, “Bat tambou"—bcat the drum—
until J stumbled; and then, as I clambered
aloft again, with torn jeans, the rhythm of
their chant was the same, but the words
had evolved: “Blanc tombé, blanc tombé"
the white man fell, thc white man fell.

How could Г not love this place

When I went back to my little house in
Kenscofl, the mosquito-eating lizard that
liked to ride the carriage of my typewriter
jumped off, seeming to know it was time
for me to work; children poked their heads
through the windows and the open
doorway—the blanc is making rhythm on
his machine! Later in the afternoon, it
was my habit to join le Génacle des
Philosophes—the Philosophers’ Cirde—
alongside the scales at the coffee dealer
terrace, where the retired judge, the for-
mer general, the Belgian priest, the coffee
dealer and the green-shoed heir to a
dclunct president of the republic gathered
to discuss the fate of the world. Monsicur
Noe's wife served us very black Haitian-
roast collee, a nectar that convinced us all
that, in the troubles between the Soviet
Union and the U.S., Haiti could surely
provide the fait d'union—the hyphen—
that would mysteriously bring together
these blundering great powers in peace
and amity. The collce spoke loudly; some-
times, in the evening, the rum spoke even
louder.

Haiti has remained, these many years, a
magic place of my nightmares.

BYE-BYE, ВАВУ DOC

The riots of early 1986 were per
The Americans said to Baby Doc,

to go check personally on your Swiss bank-
ing." The boy president, now aged 34,
sped through Port-au-Prince in his
Porsche, everyone cheering, and went on
television to say in his thin, soft, high-
pitched voice that no, he wasn't going; he
was “strong as a monkey's tail." Ne
less, hc left on a U.S. planc a few days
later, accompanied by Michele, the har-
assed, chai ing first shopper, his
children and a few relatives and hench-
men. In the days alter the hectic departure
of the Duvaliers, Haitian police seized a
few kilos of cocaine in a Duvalier house
and more than 200 pounds in the storc-
room of a maternity hospital founded Бу
Michéle.

I used to sec the official bagman on his
monthly trips in and out of Haiti to tote
the country’s money into the family’s
Swiss bank accounts. "This timc, thcy
swept the treasury clean, as if with а carc-
ful broom. Morally, the Duvalicr clan is as
strong-smelling as a monkey's tail. Well,
it's hard work stealing from the poor in a
hot climate.

Now the corrupt regime is gone; good.
The Tonton Macoutes have been beaten
back, many of them killed in revenge; also
good. People are no longer so afraid of tor-
ture and extortion. Good.

But, like prisoners suddenly rele

rthe-

ed,
The

body
expecting pie in the sky right away. By
and by is not soon enough.

In the slide toward anarchy, factories go
bankrupt. For a while, nothing could be
shipped in or out, because the customs
employees were on strike. The acting head.
of state, Lieutenant General Henri
Namphy, took to his bed with fatigue.
Oflers of aid could not be accepted,
because there was no one around to sign
the letters.

Hunger, want, manic hope and the real-

of suffering: While the drums resound
and songs of freedom rise in the air, the
sweat of celebration dries on the bodies.

THE KILLING OF THE LOUPS-GAROUS,
THE SHOOTING OF THE CHILD.
AND THE GREAT HOUNGAN DF GONATVES.

Jean-Bernard Diederich, a young pho-
tographer, showed me his photographs
of а roasting man—actually pieces ої
a man—outside Gonaives. Diederich
arrived just after the killing, He felt he had
to find out what had happened. The peo-
ple who did it explained that the victim
had been not a man but a loup-garou, a
werewolf, Besides the werewolf, ses
others had died. In the photographs
alongside the burned limbs, there w
feathers, goat parts and a jacoute—a sack
spilling out its charms, potions, leaves and
personal items of menace. A mob of about
100 people danced and officiated over the
execution zed by clairin, the local
white rum. In the distance, а trumpet
sounded. The people, some in full voodoo

al

drag, were wearing red headbands. Dic-
derich smelled the pleasant scent of weed,
which is new to Haiti. 1 might not have
believed this, but the day before, 1, too,
had been offered а toke in the Protestant
missionary restaurant in Kenscoff.

The reason the body had to be cut into
small picces before being burned was that
otherwise, the loup-garou might put itself
back together and return to avenge the in-
sult of being beaten and chopped with
machetes.

The next day, we drove to Gonaives
with Caleb Joseph, a 23-year-old cth-
nology scholar from the national uni-
versity. Не wished to make sure we
understood that this was not voodoo but
an act of pillage and, perhaps, revenge on.
an unpopular figure. 1 studied the graffiti
on walls as we headed out of Port-au-
Prince: DUVALIER NOT HERE! MISERY FINISHED!
“The euphoria,” said our friend, the
young Haitian and voodoo expert. We
Spokc of the continued unemployment and
the shortages of everything, including law
and order. The prisons had been emptied,
because who was guilty? Former Macoutes
were being killed. Catholics and Protes-
tants were attacking voodoo priests. “We
others, we students, knew things would be
difficult," said Caleb.

At the roadside, we studied the ashes of
the loup-garou. We poked about the cin-
ders. Jean-Bernard took pictures. We
talked with a bright young fellow in a blue

U.S, Navy-surplus shirt with the name
ROISENTENKOVSKY stenciled on it. He ex-
plained that the loup-garou deserved to
die. We went to see the burned-out house.
The victim's animals had been distrib-
uted, his corn harvested. He had had 33
children by his several wives. We met one
of the widows; we met his father; we
expressed sympathy.

Then we headed up a rutted road and
meta police jeep spitting up clots of mud.
Four men and an officer grected us,
admired our tape recorders and cameras
and began questioning people about the
killings. Out of the caille-pailles—the clay-
and-straw huts—various explainers gath-
cred, Six men were rounded up and each
was questioned by the officer while
another soldier took notes. One, with the
inflamed conjunctivas of a drunk, was
shoved away. Jean-Bernard said in a low
voice to me that these people looked famil-
iar. Most of the others in the village had
also been here yesterday, except for the
wife and the old father. Suddenly a woman
shouted, “He’s the onc! He started the
killing!” and pointed toward a sullen-eved
barefoot man.

^I don't know nothi
You're under arrest.
Two of the soldiers were horsing around,
pretending to duel with their clubs. They
were also carrying old U.S. Army MI ri-
fles. Instcad of getting into the jecp, thc
suspect broke and began to run toward the

” the man said.

cornfield. “You may kill him!" the officer
shouted. The soldiers began firing. The
woman who had denounced him shouted,
“Don't shoot! Don't shoot!” Five or six
shots rang out, but the man didn’t stop.
He wasn’t hit. The soldiers chased after
him, followed by Jean-Bernard, who
turned to yell at me, “Watch the car!”

In the high corn, where everyone was
invisible, volleys of shots resounded.

A child about ten years old bi
leap about, screaming. People told her to
shut up. The woman who had denounced
the fleeing man was still sobbing, “Don't,
oh, don't" The child ripped away her
sleeve. There was a decp wound, with
exposed veins and striations of flesh rap-
idly oozing blood. I began shouting for
Jean-Bernard: “Jay-bee! Jay-bee!” If a
wild bullet had hit this child, I wondered
what else could happen in the cornfield.

lt turned out that the had
escaped— "He knows every hole,” said
onc of the soldiers—and they were shoot-
ing into the air to let one another. know
where they werc.

After а time for reflection, the officer
decided to put the child in the jeep. Her
mother was brought up screaming, being
dragged to join her daughter. She was
afraid of the police. She thought she was
being arrested. During the Duvalier days,
many of those arrested never returned.

Hysterical, the woman fell and knocked
her head against a rock. She was loaded

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PLAYBOY

232

into the jecp along with her daughter.

The officer began sounding his horn in
imperative steady honks to summon the
troops. They crowded into the jeep along
with the child and her mother.

“This wasn't an affair of voodoo,” said
Caleb. “This was an affair of pillage.” 1
knew what came next: Haiti is 60 percent
Catholic, 40 percent Protestant and 100
percent voodoo. “That is our basis of phi-
losophy and hope,” said the ethnologist.

L thought of the соску feathers left by
the charred remains of the murdered man.
.

We drove down the back roads from
Carrefour Poteau, where those events took
place, to Carrelour Lexis, where lives
Simon Hérard, one of the great houngans
of Haiti, a leader of the Gonaives district
with a reputation as a wise man. During
the early days of the Duvalier empire, he
supported Papa Doc because of his voo-
doo connection. The Haitian version of
the black-pride movement, the rivalry
between black and mulatto, was also a fac-
tor. Hérard was, yes, linked with the Ton-
ton Macoutes. Later, he made alliances
with those who understood that the boy
president for life, with his greedy mulatto
с. had to go.

Hérard is a thick, stocky man with an
African chief's belly and a deep, resonant,
arcttc-and-rum voice. One of his
wives, a mambo, or priestess, herself, and а
lew of his sons hovered about us as we
chatted in his hounfor, or temple, ed at
a large table under а suspended bottle of
Piper-Heidsieck champagne. Actually,
this outbuilding on his plantation was not
strictly a temple but, rather, a place for
bamboche, for dance, drink and celebra-
| the weekly
senior prom celebrating the coming of the
Sabbath.

asked Hé

tion, for what one might

rd about the incident at

Carrefour Poteau. “Nothing to do with
voodoo,” he said. “This is deshokage, an
excuse for revenge and disorder."

Caleb looked happy. Voodoo is peace-
ful; voodoo is philosophy; people should
understand.

Jean-Bernard suggested | show Hérard
the photo of the roasting pieces of mar
“Uh-oh,” he said with a deep chuckle. Hi
wile and son gathered to gaze over hi
shoulder. There was silence.

Jean-Bernard, whose mother is Haitian
asked, “Why the cock, the feathers? Why
were they wearing red headbands? Why
did the trumpet sound? Why the chanting?
Why are there goat parts and his jacoute
lled with—what?”

“You must understand,”
“AI Haitians аге
chuckled happily—"if you want to burn
He fixed my
ree with
‚ at least until I had
crossed into U.S. space. “It was organ-
ized thieving, that's all. Organized with
rum and disorder. Thank you very much
for. the As

mchow, the officer figured out where
we were—this is Haiti—and, as we were
leaving, drove up in his jeep to give us
the news. The injured child was being
taken care of. Her mother had a headache.
They would surely find the criminal
tomorrow. Or maybe the next day.

He saluted smartly.

.

A few minutes from the Grand Hotel
Oloffson in Port-au-Prince, on the day 1
was in Gonaives, a man was burned in the
street for being a werewolf. This time, the
crowd found a lost child in a pit
house. There was a pot nearby boiling
with meat in it that looked suspiciously
like cochon planche. A neighborhood

said Hérard.
werewolves" —hc

them or steal or only kill.

IN HEAVEN

THERE 15 No BEER.

woman had cut off the head of the loup-
garou. / ion cameraman
showed me his video of the event. The

crowd cavorted and danced before the cam-
cra, holding lemons to thcir noses be-
cause of the smell of the roasting werewolf.
а loup-

How did they know he wa:
garou? A sick child had cried when
his hut; obviously, he had been dri
its blood. The people had long suspected
it, but he had been protected by the
Duvalier government. This time, he had
no protection. They found the lost child;
they found the pot; they saw the bones.

No police came to this party. It had
been a man who lived alone. He must have
been a loup-garou. In any case, he маз
dead and an affront to the noses blocked
with lemons.

Later that evening, unable to slecp, 1
drove into the slum near the harbor where
an artist, in the exhilaration of freedom at
last, had painted the walls of two entire
blocks of the Rue du Magasin de l'État
with heroic murals. He was happy to share
is thoughts with me. He was only a poor
man of talent who wanted to express his
feelings. His neighbors had contributed to
buy the paints. They wanted their district
of shacks and blank walls to tell about the
happiness of this moment y

Because the only public toilet in Port-
au-Prince, built by the neighborhood peo-
ple to celebrate the uprooting of Baby
Doc, is on this street, he included the tiled
urinal as one of the panels of his mural. It
was clean; it was bright; it glcamed; it was
a blessing, The artist left instructions
against overcrowding the facilities, paint-
ing PIPI ONE, PIPI DEUX.

ЧІ stay on the street, I never go,” he
id. “Please come back to share our joy.”

A NOTE ON BIRTH CONTROL IN HAITI

This is the country in which Simon
Hérard, my friend the houngan, is said to
have 56 children (I haven't counted them
pe Т He believes in family plan-
however. He planned to have
Лйлы ponsible,” Ве was proud to
point out. “I take care of them all.”
B

On this last trip to Haiti, I stood one
night looking over the balcony at the fum-
ing city of Port-au-Prince. 1 remembered
the American embassy official who had
said to me on this same wooden ramp,
leading to the Grand Hotel Olollson,
“Th destroyed my marriage, de-
stroved my health, destroyed my life, and I
love it more than any place on earth.”

I thought of the time an old friend had
come to visit me in the dark of the hotel
Herb, I hate to tell you this,” he said. “I
think you should go home tomorrow."

“Why?”

“Because there is no way you can go
home tonight,” he said. “I pray for you.”

Now the long dismay of the Duvalier re-
gime is over. But this lovely land remains a
moving image of unease on earth

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PLAYBOY

234

PARTNERS о... ол мес

“You didn't do well, Dean. And you had your hand
on the leg of the client's wife.”

in expanding the air-charter fleet to
include two more centers. "Ierry told him
he could call it what he wanted, but hc
wanted to бе up the prairie. "The big
open," he added, “is where it’s at."

“Га like to know why you think so,”
said Dean, knowing he touched a wide
subject. The big open took them right
through dessert. Georgeanne watched
Terry with apparent rapture. Dean de-
cided it was a smoke screen for the leg
operation and drew them closer in com-
plicity.
Nevertheless, this dinner where some-
thing was meant to happen reminded
Dean of his poor preparation for a life of
enterprise. He had managed to reach
maturity still thinking you sat down to
dinner only in order to get something to
cat. Any kind of ceremony ruined his appe-

te. Like a child panicked by uncaten broc-
he stole a glance at his nearly full plate.
ard drove Dean back to his car in

Ed:

silence, It was late enough that the streets

were quiet. As if to emphasize his silence,
Edward turned on the radio. When they
got to Dean's car, пе said, "You didn't do
well, Dean." His face looked very serious.
“And you had your hand on the leg of the
client's wife. Good night.”

Dean was in shock. After he had let
himself into his apartment, he asked him-

self if he was crazy—he could think about
nothing but Georgeanne and what he had
viewed with pride as his courage that
evening—and decided that, well, maybe
he was crazy. He danced alone to Bob
Marley's Rebel Music. The weight ol the
partnership began to lift.
б

On Monday, it was certain there was
awkwardness between Dean and Edward.
It was equally certain to Dean that it was
Edward's intention that this be so. They
stopped outside the firm's library for the
sual lighthearted word and Edward gave
, he thought, rather a look.

"How was your weekend?”

“It was all right," said Dean.

“Just all right?”

"Just all right, though it scemed im-
proved once the part with your client was
bchind me."

"Terry is a good client," said Edward.

“Is he," Dean stated

The chill expanded from Edward to
other key la n three days. During
that time, Dean went from acute discom-
fort to a feeling of rebellion. He took
Edward aside downstairs in the foyer.
Dean was breathless with crazy courage.
Edward,” he said, “Vd like to see you
retire. You're becoming pett
now: You've gone crazy.”

“Tt has been proposed that we celebrate
the winter solstice this year by exchanging gifts
and cards. Any discussion?”

“Duck hunter."

Dean called Georgeanne from his office.

“I still love you,” he said.

“Is that so?" she inquired.

When he hung up the phone, it occurred
to him that he was ruined. He called
Edward's office.

“Edward, don’t go around to your cro-
id teach them to gaze at me

ined schoolboy. I don't enjoy
Even though Um a partner in the firm, it's.
taken all the strength I possess to stay
erested in this inane profession in the
first place." Edward breathed in astonish-
ment on the other end. Dcan hung up.

Then he called Georgeanne again. This
time, he called her from the Bellevue
Lunch—a lawyers" hangout—on a wall-
mounted phone at the end of a long row of
red-leatherette-and-chromium stools.

"Let's sce cach other right this minute,”
he said.

“АП right." He could hear her backing
up at his urgency. He suggested they drive
down to the Indian reservation. “At fairly
high speed," he added, “then turn around
and get back with room to spare."

.

They drove south to the reservation, a
vast, mainly unpeopled arca with scat-
tered, small, impoverished ranches where
four automotive hulks supplied spares for
every running car. The awkwardness ol a
secret departure lasted for about ten miles.
When they had dated, Georgeanne had
been a precocious beauty and Dean a con-
fused and talented youth, planning to be a
politician. He had just been kicked out of
АЛГО; she had just pledged Theta. She
had stood him up for a linebacker and bro-
ken his heart.

When the linebacker was phased out,
they saw each other again but had
changed to being friends. They had kept
trying to flood themselves anew with
romance in a spell of sex and courtship,
but it failed absolutely.

Dean and Georgeanne recounted this
period as they traveled the reservation,
growing comfortable арай

“I just figured it out,
ala

said Dean in

What?"

“We're friends, just good friends.”

She looked out her window and stared
at the elevation of an irrigation canal and
the iron wings ofa floodgate beyond. Plov-
ers hunted along the plowed ground and
the sky was extremely bluc.

m afraid you're right." The air whis-
ded in the window vents. “We probably
ought to start back."

After а mile or two, Georgeanne said,
“A penny for your thoughts."

Actually, Dean was thinking, for almost
the first time, of what was implied by
being any old lawyer in any old firm any-
where in the country.

“IPs not going to work,” he said. “Nice
weather, though."

Georgeanne quictly watched the prairie
fly past.

They drove north to return. The coun-
try behind the city was flat, dry-land farm
country; and thc rst scen
looked like a sequence of grain elevators.
As you closed in, the elevators turned out
to be hotels and offices, really quite nor-
mal but for their isolation in space-

Dean drove Georgeanne straight to her
house and up the driveway, which ran
next to а delivery door. Two flowering
crab-apple trees stood by the door and the
air was full of their smell and the sound of
bees in their crooked branches.

When Dean got out to help Georgeanne
with her door, Terry stepped up from
somewhere and knocked him flat. The
impact took a few moments to recede, at
which point Dean realized he was on his
back in the driveway. Terry opened the
door with one hand and shoved his wife
through with the other. 1 can call it
attempted „homicide, Dean thought. He
got to his fect and Icancd on the car for a
moment. His right cheekbone had swollen
so that it stood out in his vision. Can this
actually happen to a partner in a law firm?
he wondered.

When his head cleared htly, he stag-
gered through the door with more vitality
and purpose than he had felt in a long
time. Terry stared at him in astonishment
from beside the refrigerator. Georgcanne
stood nearby, with her hands over her
face. Dean tottered forward and struck
Terry across the mouth with an open
hand. Terry let him have it again, and
an went down in a heap. He wasn't
quite knocked out, but he couldn't tell if he
was alonc in thc kitchen or not. Hc gin-
gerly felt the bridge of his nose and found
it detached. He was face down in a fair
amount of blood and the desire to get away
from that, as much as anything clse,
impelled him to get moving ада

He crossed a strangely quiet living room
on all fours. Не had lost all sense of time.
He wanted to Ксер going rather than wait.
until he felt well enough to get to his feet
He could make out a small amount of
sound and he tracked it down a carpeted
corridor to an open door. He crawled
through that door and discovered Terry
having sex with Georgeanne. He had her
pinioned on a couch and his huge body
jerked over her. Dean sprang on him and
sank his teeth into his back. A shower of
glass cascaded over Dcan as his hcad
struck the mirrored wall. He heard
Georgeanne’s scream; then he went head-
first into the wooden frame of the couch,
and this time he was out. Hc was out for
such a short time, his first thought was to
admire his own vigor. He had reached
Georgeanne’s house at 2:19, had been
knocked out and was now almost
recovered by—checking his watch:
It had been years since he felt this good.
He could hear an argument from elsc-
where in the house and it pleased him that
Gcorgeanne was taking up for him

He blotted the blood from his eye sock-
ets with the draperies and looked around:

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He was in a kind of den with leather furni-
ture, a globe and a big glass ashtray in a
wooden frame with a cork for knocking
pipe ashes loose. The blood spots on the
draperies seemed to watch him.

The pain was going over him in waves.
The light from the window was clear and
yellow and made him feel with sudden
emotion the rare virtue of daily life, the
wonder of the trivial, the small but neces-
sary and the tissue of small delusions that
keep good pcople going.

He got up and went to the living room.
Теггу and Georgeanne were sitting on the
sofa in an attitude that suggested peace
was in the making. Georgeanne said
peevishly, Haven't you had enough?”

“Yes, Гус had enough.”

"Em trying to persuade Terry about the
truth of our relationship,” she said, and as
a caution: “I believe I am getting some-
where."

“I don’t think I can drive . .
home.”

“We'll be right with you,” said Terry
They leaned toward cach other in а way
that prevented Dean from hearing what
they were saying, though he could tell he.
had brought them closer together.

“Why don't I drive Dean to his office.
and you take our саг?”

Dean slumped in the front seat while
Terry drove. Georgeanne led the way in
their gleam four-door along the
crowded boulevard toward downtown. It
was a shining fall day when the air of the
countryside invaded the city. Dean did ир

- myself

his scat belt and gazed at the fc

hope this has been worth it to you,
r,” said Terry.

t has," said Dean thickly. “lts
opened up the future." His head nodded
up and down as he confirmed this with.
himself. Georgeanne stopped at the first
intersection, and "Terry would have done
the same, except that Dean reached his leg
over and flattened the accelerator with his

foot. They rear-ended Georgeanne in a
grand splintering of safety glass and thun-
derof metal. Terry waved in the air toward.

Dean what were meant to be further blows
but whose force was negligible because of
the effects of the accident. “I hope
Gcorgcanne is OK,” said Dean wanly. His
injuries had not been added to, but he was
in great pa nd overcome by the
strangeness of his situation.

All three were taken to the hospital for
observation. Belore they left, one young
doctor took Dean aside and asked, “What
is all this, anyway?”

"Well, it started out as а misunder-
standing."

“Is it a ménage of trois?" asked the doc-
tor. He cocked his head as though the
question arose from his love of science.

"No, doctor," said Dean, "but your
vastly filthy mind has made me feel worse
when I didn't think that was possible.”

“You're on a tear, aren't you? I wouldn't

be smarting off if I were in your shape."
Dean went home.

.

His first day back at work, Edward
asked to sce him in his office. Dean was
still widely bandaged, and he hoped
Edward might pull up short of an actual

“I was only going to suggest,” said Ed-
ward, ating with a broad open palm
that Dean should take a scat, “that if you
were thinking of leaving the firm, this
would be an admirable time.”

Dean let out a brand-new guffaw. “Not
thinking of it," he said, surprised at his
own vigor.

Mig

"Is there some sort of decertification
procedure for new partners?”

“Dean, what happened? You snapped.
"Terry will probably take his business else-
where.

“Good riddance.
you.”

“And Georgeanne has aged ten years.”

“105 about time.” Dean was aware that
Edward's face was moving toward him. It
was hypnotic. Was Edward on his feet?
Was his chair gliding? The face came for-
ward and as it did, it grew more like a
mask that made a final and mythic cere-
mony of disappointment, an emotion too
small to have ever held the attention of an
nportant tribe.

“You evil pul said the mask. “Well
find a way to cut off your balls.”
.

But something quite different happened.
rd got out that Dean had “stood up” to
his client. Evan Crow, an estate planner,
seized Dean's hand silently one afternoon
And when Dean suggested that the whole
thing didn't very well with Edward
Hooper, Evan got out his actuarial tables
and, massaging the bridge of his nose,
pointed out that Edward wouldn't live
long enough to make his opinion matter.
Other lawyers stopped by and, slinging
themselves into his office doorway by one
arm, winked or left brief, encouraging
words that could be reinterpreted in a
pinch, “Giving my all for love,” Dean re-
flected, seems merely to have advanced
my career.”
nally, he bumped into Hooper once
again. “Edward,” said Deai
deliberately through his Бап
don't know if you realize how low the
water supplies are in the prairie provinces.
But in case you don't know or don't want
to, let me tell you that the old potholes
that made such a lovcly nursery for water-
fowl are very much dried up. Wheat farm-
ers arc draining the wetlands in the old
duck factory.”

“I don't get it.”

“Do as you wish,” Dean drawled. “But
I think that it is very much in your best inter-
ests if you never shoot another duck.”

.
Early one morning, before the coffee was

Less shitwork for

made, belore the messages from the previ-
ous day had been distributed through the
offices and the informal chats had died out
in the corridors, Dcan's phone rang. It was
Edward Hooper. Dean hadn't talked with
him in a month.

“Can you come down?"

“Of course.”

Dean had just put the jacket of his suit
over the back of his chair. He started to
put it back on but, on second thought,
ambled out the door toward Edward's
office in his vest. He gave the closed door a
single rap.

“Come in.”

One hand in his pocket, he eased the
door open. Edward was at his desk. Under
a wall of antique duck decoys sat Terry
Bidwell, elbows on the arms of a Windsor
chair, fingers laced so that he could brace
his front teeth on the balls of his thumbs
He seemed thoughtful. He tipped his face
up and said, “How are you?"

“Never better,” said Dean, “ава you?"

“Tm fine, Dean.”

Edward smiled with a vast owlish rais-
ing of his brows, as if to say, "Where's the
end to all this surprise?”

"Terry," said Edward measuredly,
“asked to scc y

"My business has gotten to where 1
need to see everybody," Terry said.

"I hear you fly dear up to Alberta,”
said Dean,

“And the desert the other way."

“How's Georgeanne?”

"She's olf to the Coast Юг а cooking.
seminar. Hunanese, And we bought us a
little getaway in Arizona."

“АП that cactus," Dean sighed.

"Lets come to order," Edward broke
in. “I think Terry is looking for a little per-
spective on his air-charter service."

“No, Edward,” said Terry patiently
“On everything.”

“I mean that,” said Edward.

s in no stone unturned,” said Terry
d, try to stay one jump ahead of me,
OK?"

“OK,” said Edward, looking into the
papers in his lap.

“Instead of the other way around, Ed.”

Sometimes, Dean thought, silence can
have such purity. It was so quiet in the
room, like the silence of a house in winter
when the furnace quits. Edward got to his
fect slowly. He's going to leave this build-
ing, thought Dean.

Edward shaped and adjusted the papers
in his hand. Не
squared up their corners. He set them on.
the desk. He gave Terry a small, almost
Oriental smile. “Goodbye,” he said. “You
deserve cach other." He sauntered out, his

оч.

looked at them and

gait peculiarly loosened.

“I guess we'll have to take it from here,”
said Dean, feeling the solitude and bitter
glory of the partner:

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“It is very easy to underestimate the threat to freedom

that this dangerous ruling repre

or anal sex in the darkness of their bed-
room

We must ask why the Court. believes
pment has any power to intrude on
private sexual activity, how
emment can hope to control sexual rela-
tions and what purpose government can
have in telling its people how to have sex-
1 's decision is so remote from the
now that there is a tend-
usly. What is more
basic to hum: ture than the sex drive?
What social activity has been more univer-
sally engaged in? What form of conduct
are we least likely to be able to suppress?
What do five members of the U.S.
preme Court think they are doing? The
Georgia statute upheld in Bowers had not
been enforced for deca very сазу

go

ency not to

sents."

to underestimate the threat to freedom
that this dangerous ruling represents.

Our understanding of freedom changes
with the times. Optimists call this prog-
ress. Were it otherwise, we would have few
ights. Jim Crow laws could still be
enforced by the police. People could be
executed for minor crimes. Discrimination
igainst women and other groups could be
the law of the land. The poor could be con-
victed of crimes without having a lawyer to.
represent them, then denied the right to
appeal because they could not pay its
Costs.

This evolution of our understanding of
freedom makes it all the more difficult to
bclieve that їп 1986, the Supreme Court
could tell American adults that they could.
be imprisoned for pri

vate, consensual sex

“We've become hopelessly lost in these woods. Could we
spend the night at your place?”

inform us that
tens of millions of Americans regularly
choose to engage in conduct outlawed by
Bowers. Art, literature, film, popular mag-
azines and prevalent behavior patterns all
demonstrate how deeply ingrained in our
culture such conduct is. Millions of homo-
sexuals have made public their sexual pref-
erence and have been widely accepted
throughout society. Some have been
elected to political office.

American law began the slow evolution
ofa right to privacy at the turn of this cen-
tury. The Supreme Court itself, in a ser
of cases going back over the past two dec-
ades, established rights to privacy that
would protect the right of adults to engage
they chose. In 1965, the Са
held in Griswold vs. Connecticut that a con-
stitutional right of privacy permitted mar-
ried people to usc contraceptives. There
were only two dissents to this Warren
Court decision. Four ycars later,
mous Warren Court, in Stanley vs. Geor-
gia, held that people's right to view
obscene films in their own homes was pro-

In 1972, Warren Burger, as Chicf Jus
ice, dissented in Eisenstadt vs. Baird. The
majority in that case declared unconstitu-
tional a Massachusetts statute making it a.
crime for anyone except рі
pharmacists to provide contracept
drugs or articles, wl
only married people. Two Nix
ces, Justices. Lewis Powell
Rehnquist, did not participate in the deci-
sion, and a third, Harry Blackmun,
by Kennedy appointec Byron
avoided the constitutional issue by ob:
ing that the trial record did not disclose
whether or not the recipient of the con-
traceptive supplied by the defendant was
married.

The following ycar, in Roe vs. Wade, the
Court held that a woman has a right to se-
cure an abortion during the first three
months ofa pregnancy; that from the third
month until the fetus is viable, the state
may regulate abortions to ensure maternal
health, but after a fctus is viable, it may
prohibit abortions except when necessary
to protect the life or health of the mother.
Chief Justice Burger concurred on narrow
legal grounds, adding that he would
uphold a statute requiring certification by
two physicians that an abortion
sary to protect the woman's life or health
Justice Rehnquist vigorously dissented, as
did Justice White.

These deci
were caught up in a wave of publ
versy. Political figures such as Ronald
Reagan and a new generation of funda-
mentalist religious leaders, such as Jerry
Falwell, c ded for the reversal of War-
ren Court T

me
ortion, separati.
poverty law,

The ional mood has ch: nged, ed
these social issues, as they are called, are

Ror—

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“Oh, the usual things, Momma—you know Tom always gives me clothes.”

241

Discover the light of Finlandia.

ТЕН ЕЛЖ WT ©) R JE ID SS

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now prominent features of public discus-
sion and national election campaigns.
President Reagan, who talks so fervently
of getting government off our backs,
ardently supports the use of criminal sanc-
tions to stop abortions and prohibit por-
nography, while promoting judicial
appointees who are committed to his
views. In this context, we can measure
whether or to what degree the Supreme
Court “follows the illiction returns."
Chief Justice Burger, while joining the
majority that upheld the Georgia sodomy
statute in Bowers vs, Hardwick, wrote by
far the most revealing opinion. In his open-
ing sentence, he was compelled to say that
“in constitutional terms there is no such
thing as a fundamental right to commit
homosexual sodomy.” He observed, “Соп-
demnation of those practices is firmly
rooted in Judaco-Christian moral and eth-
ical standards. Homosexual sodomy was a
capital crime under Roman law." He rel-
ished quotes calling homosexuality “the
famous crime against nature," ©
offense of ‘deeper malignity than rape,”
“an heinous act ‘the very mention of
which is a disgrace to human nature”? and
“a crime not fit to be named.” He wrote
that to hold that “homosexual sodomy is
somehow protected as a fundamental right
would be to cast aside millennia of moral
teaching.” Burger did not cite a single pro-
vision of the Constitution or decision of the
Supreme Court or any other American
court but merely manifested his deep per-
sonal revulsion to homosexual conduct.
The majority opinion was written by
Byron White. Chief Justice-designate
Rehnquist and Sandra Day O’Connor (the
first woman to sit on the Court that told
her grandmother's generation that women
had no right to be lawyers) avoided the
heat of controversy by silently joining in
White’s opinion. White immediately re-
stricted the scope of his opinion to homo-
sexual sodomy, declining to express an
opinion on other acts of sodomy. The dis-
senters accurately observed that the ra-
tionale of his opinion applied equally to
married parties and to acts between the
sexes in general. White observed that he
was not considering the wisdom or the de-
sirability of ıhe sodomy laws and added
that the state legislatures might repeal
those criminal statutes whenever they
chose. declared himself, however,
"quite unwilling" to "announce, as the
Court of Appeals did, a fundamental right
to engage in homosexual sodomy.” Then,
in seven short paragraphs, he upheld a
statute that would send a man or a woman
to the penitenüary for 20 усагз for a pi
vate, consensual oral or anal sex act.
Resorting to what is called strict construc-
tion of the Constitution, he wrote, “The
Court... comes nearest to illegitimacy
when it deals with judge-made constitu-
tional law having little or no cognizable
roots in the language or design of the Con-
stitution.” He added that to claim that
“such conduct is ‘deeply rooted in this Na-

He

tion's history and tradition’ or "implicit in
the concept of ordered liberty” is, at best,
facetious.”

Justice White observed that much
victimless" conduct committed in the
home is illegal, such as possession of
drugs, unlicensed firearms or stolen goods.
He found no way to distinguish criminal
statutes that prohibit adultery, incest and
other sexual crimes, relying on the ancient
origins of the remaining sodomy statutes
and the democratic processes by which 24
states and the District of Columbia
enacted them.

Jone of his arguments addressed the
rcal issues. Chief Justice John Marshall
effectively answered the strict-construction
argument in 1819, when he wrote, "We
must never forget that it is a Constitution
we are expounding . . . a Constitution
intended to endure for ages to come and,
consequently, to be adapted to the various
crises of human affairs." Justice Benjamin
Cardozo told us that “the great generali-
ties of the Constitution have a content and
a significance that vary from age to арс...
A constitution states . . . principles for an
expanding future." Justice Felix Frank-
fürter wrote, “The Constitution of the
nited States is not a printed finality but a
dynamic process.”

Let's put this in historical context. Most.
of the founding fathers owned slaves. In
1857, the Supreme Court—in Dred Scott
us. Sandford, the most tragic case in our
history, requiring nine individual opin-
ions—held that black persons could not
sue in the courts because they were
“beings of an inferior order and altogether
unfit to associate with the white race,
either in social or political relations; and
so far inferior, that they had no rights
which the white man [is] bound to
respect.”

Having thus decided the race question
for America, the Court, after the Civil War

that was required to overrule Dred Scott,
put women in their place. In Bradwell vs.
Illinois, the Court ruled that women had
no right to practice law. Why? Because

the civil law, as well as nature herself,
has always recognized a wide difle
ence in the respective spheres and
destinies of man and woman. Man is,
or should be, woman's protector and
defender. The natural and proper ti-
midity and delicacy which belongs to
the female sex evidently unfits it for
many of the occupations of civil life.
The divine ordinance, as well as in
the nature of things, indicates the
domestic sphere as that which prop-
спу belongs to . . . womanhood. The
harmony . . . of. . the family insti-
tution is repugnant to the idea of a
woman adopting a nct and inde-
pendent carcer from that of her
husband. . . . In the common law . . .
it became a maxim . . . Шага woman
had no legal existence separate from
her husband Ihe paramount
destiny and mission of woman are to
fulfill the noble and benign offices of
wife and mother. This is the law of the
Creator.

We are inclined to di s such awful
decisions as remote, even quaint aber
tions, We are confident that contemporary
knowledge, reason, understanding and
values make similar Court holdings im-
possible today, Those who persevere in the
struggle for freedom, equality and social
justice for minorities—and some majori
ties, including women—remain painfully
aware of how little has been accomplished
and how fragile past achicvements are.

Justice Blackmun wrote a powerful dis-
sent in Bowers vs. Hardwick, in which he was
joined by Justices William Brennan, Thur-
good Marshall and John Paul Stevens. He
questioned the “haste to reverse” and the

jori-

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“almost obsessive focus on homosexual
activity” of the majority. The dissenters
showed that by its plain words, the Geor-
gia statute did not distinguish between
homosexual and heterosexual or married
and unmarried conduct and cited
Holmes's proposition that it is "revolting
to have no better reason" for a law than
that “it was laid down in the time оГ
Henry IV? and “still more revolting” if
the basis for the law has long since van-
ished but the rule “persists from blind im-
itation of the past

The first purpose of the dissent was to
identify the real issue in the case as the
right to privacy. This is “the right to be let
alone, the most comprehensive of rights
and the right most valued by civilized
men," as Justice Louis Brandeis
characterized it. The dissent then went on
to demonstrate that conduct protected
under the privacy right is not limited by
idcological, demographic, political or reli-
gious preference. It is protected because it
is “зо central a part of an individual life."
Such conduct, even if some may view it as
odd or erratic, cannot be prohibited where
it does not interfere with the rights or
interests of others. The dissent then
showed sexual conduct to have been recog-
nized by the Court as a “central part of an
individual life. - . . Only the most willful
blindness could obscure the fact that sex-
ual intimacy is ‘a sensitive, key relationship
of human existence, central to family life,
community welfare, and the development
of human personality.”

Anticipating that the majority rule
would be reversed, Justice Blackmun con-
cluded "that depriving individuals of the
right to choose for themselves how to con-
duct their intimate relationships poses a
far greater threat to the values most decply
rooted in our nation's history than tole
ance of nonconformity could ever do.”

Justice Stevens added a dissenting opin-
ion to make clear his view that the Georgia
statute, as written, applicd to heterosexual
conduct (including that of married cou-
ples) as much as to homosexual conduct
and was clearly unconstitutional. He then
showed that Georgia had legislated that
“all sodomy is immoral and unacceptable"
and there could be no basis for selective
application of the statute to homosexuals

"The majority profoundly misunderstood
the Constitution. It ignored and misread
its own precedents, It assumed a role for
the Supreme Court that through our his-
tory has repeatedly resulted in damage to
its image and the rule of law. It exposed a
tin car to all but the political preferences of
a President of its own age. For several of
the Justices, this decision may have been
one for the Gipper. The Court ruled as if it
had no awareness of the social realitics of
the society it serves, thus defying the na-
ture of law. It proclaimed a rule impos-
sible to enforce, necessarily a corruption of
law. It gave police and political leadership.
a dangerous tool for persecution of
selected enemies. It raised fundamental

questions about the capacity of law to pro-
cced by just-and rational principles. In
human terms, it exposed the ugly face of
prejudice, pathetically failing to acknowl-
edge our common humanity, afraid of hu-
man qualities not alien to any of us. It
believed that by its invocation of mystery,
miracle and authority, it could coerce con-
formity.

It is critically important to the integrity
of constitutional government that this
aberrant decision be overruled. Surely it
will bc, and soon.

But we should not ignorc the larger sig-
nificance of a government's desire to con-
wol the sexual activity of its citizens.
George Orwell offers a primer on the sub-
ject with 1984

In that novel, the Party, led by Big
Brother, formed the Junior Anti-Se:
League, which advocated complete celi-
bacy. It looked to the day when all births
would result trom artificial insemination,
called artsem in Newspeak, the state lan-
guage. It wanted to remove all pleasure
from the sexual act and to destroy eroti-
cism. Its goal was for "sexual intercourse
to be looked on as a slightly disgusting
minor operation, like having an enema,"

The state police worked constantly to
create conditions that would further the
Party's aims. Winston Smith was terrified
to look at or speak with Julia where they
could be seen or heard. He knew it was
"shocking folly" to read a note from her in
the public toilet, because there was "no
place nore certain that the telescreens
were watching continuously."

Smith came to realize that “the animal
instinct, the simple undifferentiated de-
sire . . . would tear the Party to piece:
He сате to hate purity and goodness as
decreed by the Party and wanted everyone
to be “corrupt to the bones.” He realized
that “pure love or pure lust” was no longer
possible, because both were “mixed up
with fear and hatred,”

The Party wanted to crush sex as a fore-
most enemy of its power not only because
it led to loyalties other than to Big Brother
and “created a world of its own . . .
outside the Party’s contro!” but because it
realized that “sexual privation induced
hysteria, which . . . could be transformed
into war fever and leader worship.

The role of these factors in. President
Reagan's determination ю have govern-
ment control the bodies of women who
want abortions, to identily the state with
fundamentalist religion, to have his Attor-
ney General form a commission on por-
nography is clear. In our time of pervasive
insecurity, government cllorts to control
sex are a present danger. Our freedom,
even our survival, may depend on the
courage and eflectiveness of our resistance.

1 hope, in these most turbulent times,
that Americans will join with Emily
Dickinson in believing that “the Soul
selects her own Society, then shuts the
Door. To her Divine Majority, Present no
and will act on that belief.

[y]

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245

PLAYBOY

246

$ Е X STA RS (continued from page 164)

“Most college students would pr

r that their spouses

be virgins on the wedding night.”

opened to smash busincss, with Sigourney
Weaver getting most of the credit, 20th
Century Fox pulled her photo from the
advertising. Insiders said she looked too
much like Michael, down to the square jaw
and spit curl. They were perhaps overre-
acting to the public's recent hooting rejec-
tion of Under the Cherry Moon, starring
that other sexually ambiguous star, Prince.

After the outbreak of celebrity
riages in the past couple of years, there
was the thunder of little feet running
everywhere. All the celebrity parents
talked endlessly about how delighted they
were, but our favorite fatherly observation
came from Ozzy Osbourne. Pater to six, the
rocker revealed, “1 don't allow certain
things in my house. Like, I don't let the
children leave their clothes lying around,
because where am I going to leave mine?”
Scientifically, it can't Бе proved that
giving birth to daughter Kady two ycars
ago allected Pia Zadora's vocal cords. But
after a career of critical drubbings, Pia
suddenly found herself enjoying piles of
praise for her concerts and records. Zadora

mar-

regularly takes Kady up to Oregon to
watch the games of the Portland Beavers, a
bascball team of which she owns a piece.
“I go and sing the national anthem,” Pia
noted, “and then I go in the clubhouseand
kick butts.”

The big news this ycar, though, was not
marriage and motherhood but the proba-
ble lack thereof for women at middle age.
A Yale sociology study created а nationa
storm with its conclusion that women not
married by 95 have only a 50 percent
chance of finding а husband thereafter.
More surprisingly, a University of North
Dakota survey reported that most college
students would prefer that their spouses
be virgins on the wedding night. That
thought remains foreign to many veterans
of the sexual revolution. Said Cybill Shep-
herd, for one, “I think Га be in deep, deep
trouble if | were married to someone who
had no previous sexual experience. My
philosophy is, if the shoc fits, wear it. But
first try it on to make sure that it fits.”

As long as there are lovely ladies shop-
ping for shoes, of course, there will be

“I don't care if you
are the Attorney General—when I
said you could send me your Christmas list, I wasn't
talking about а blacklist!”

handsome bachelors quite willing to mind
the store, at least temporarily. Still foot
loose at 30, David Lee Roth says he gets a
letter a day that goes something like, “Re-
member me from three years ago in
Peoria? Well, his name is Spike and he
needs a bicycle."

Reworking an old joke, bachelor Robert
Hays, 35, says he's still looking for a girl
“with the patience ofa saint, spunk and а
head flat enough to set a can of beer on.”
Of his on-and-off steady, recording engi-
ncer Terry Becker, Hays reports, "We split
more times than Elvis pants."

As always, some highly cligible bache-
lors claim they are too busy to find
romance. New to those ranks is Bruce Wil-
lis, whose devotion to duty has taken him
from tending bar in New York two years
ago into the multimillion-dollar income
range. Now he's a hit in the Moonlighting
TV series, a star in Blake Edwards’ movie
Blind Date, opposite the incredibly gor-
geous Kim Basinger, and a well-paid com-
mercial spokesman for Seagram's Golden
wine cooler. At 31, Willis, a onetime wild
and crazy guy, bemoans a work schedule
that gets him up before dawn and returns
him home after dark. There's speculation
that he'll at least get some action on the
tube. His co-star, the sexy Shepherd, con-
fessed to Rolling Stone that she "can't wait
to get horizontal."

Cybill’s remark is intriguing, but our
favorite Sex Star quote of the
from the aforementioned

Basinger.
Responding to Time magazine's Richard
Corliss, who had panned her performance
opposite Sam Shepard in Fool for Love by
claiming that there were 46 other Ameri-
es who could have done it bet-

allow

d as how, if she should
meet Corliss, “Pm gonna grab him by the
balls and say, ‘OK, name "em!"

And what would Sex Stars Бе without
Bracke Shields? Our favorite Princeton coed
has been busy filming Brenda Starr
press conference for the movie, she failed
to endear herself to the media by observing
that she has "spiced up" the role so it
wouldn't be as dull as real reporters’
lives

Marriage, babies, too-busy bachelors
and a sex goddess born on a game show.
Thats what showbiz has become—and
what do you suppose Dr. Ruth Westheimer,
something of a new sex star herself, would
make of all that? She might conclude that
it fit somewhere on the sexual cycle, that
sweetness and light inevitably had to fol-
low 20 years of libidinous excess

Still, they can’t keep the good stuff hid-
den forever. Remembering the Fifties, we
know what's really going on behind those
happy facades. Sooner or later, scandal
will rear its ugly head again, shocking the
moral sensibilities of a nation.

We can hardly wait

[y]

ter, Kim

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БН МЕНЕЕ ТЕТТЕ

HE MICRO EYE VECTOR
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LIGHT YEARS AHEAD

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FASHION

xcluding Mork from Ork, there's something stylishly
snappy about a man who wears suspenders. It's a state-
ment that you're a person to be reckoned with—and to
get that point across, you can always give the elastic a
resounding thwap. Furthermore, suspenders allow you to
make a subtle personal statement; bikini-clad ladies on a tie

JANES IMBROGNO

are corn ball, but put them on suspenders—as we've shown
here—and it's a look that even a banker from Boston can
sport. There's even a club, The International Society of Brace
Collectors, whose members quest for suspenders the way
oenophiles do for rare wines. One caveat: Suspenders should
button to your pants. The clip-on kind is strictly for kids.

The latest in braces, from left to right: Lizard-trimmed silk with woven paisley Jacquard print, by Cole-Haan Accessories, Ltd., $47.50. Limited-

edition numbered seri

$ in black silk, with cherub print and woven silk tabs, by Trafalgar, $85. Custom-made hula-girl multicolored silk print,

with hand-rolled goatskin tips, by Peter Elliot, $110. Navy-and-red-Devil print, from Bemardo, $90. Pigskin suede-lined braces, with solid-
brass buckle and keeper, by Campaign, about $50. For the stylish gambler, a black-dice print on white rayon, by Alan Flusser, $50.

he Bauhaus dictum that form follows function wasn't
lost on Dr. Ferdinand Alexander Porsche. When he
began to design a series of elegant, urbane accesso-
ries several years ago, he brought to the line the
same clean, uncluttered look and superb craftsmanship that
his four-wheel creations have enjoyed ever since his first

Porsche automotive design, the 904CTS, rolled off the
assembly line. Some of the Porsche Design products pic-
tured here are made of titanium, a metal with its own tactile
turn-on. The leather is fine calfskin, hand-crafted in Germany
and protected by aniline coloring. Like Porsche cars, Porsche
Design accessories are the fast lane of fine design. Get in it.

Top row, left to right: The currency binder in black leather features
three inserts for currencies (they double as wallets), plus a passport
pocket, $320. On the binder: A titanium mechanical pencil

sensor system that moves the lead through the pencil automatically,
$195; and a pair of folding sunglasses, by Carrera, $180. The
handsome pipe ashtray is matte-black aluminum with a protective

DAVE JORDANO

rubber rim, $140. Leaning against it: A superb slim piezoelectric
butane lighter in a black finish, $110. The briarwood pipe features
aluminum cooling ribs that dispense heat, $140. Bottom row, left to
right: A titanium pressure-equalized fountain pen, $240; and five
nested aluminum ashtrays and a cylindrical cigarette box, $200 the
set. All products are designed by Ferdinand Alexander Porsche.

POTPOURRI

WORDS TO LIVE BY

Most self-help books devoted to dealing
with stress take a positive can-cope
approach that reads great on paper but
doesn’t travel well when you're one on
one with your C.E.O. So a company
named A Sign of Quality, at 9025 East
Kenyon, #216, Denver 80237, has pro-
duced an 8" x 10” etched-brass-on-solid-
walnut plaque that’s the best definition of
stress we've seen yet. For $55, postpaid,
it’s just what you need—a good laugh

` STRESS `

The confusion
created when one’s

HOW TO STUFF A WILD CHRISTMAS STOCKING mind overrides the
If you're a grownup who still hangs his stocking by the chimney with care body’s basic desire
in hopes that Saint Nicholas soon will be there, then one of Nancy ا‎
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GONNA BE
NAUGHTY OR NICE?

It's just what vou've always wanted to.
send: an X-rated letter from Santa that
tells your latest lovely that maybe there'll
be a little more ho, ho, ho in her life if
she's a little more ofa bad girl in bed
next ycar—or something equally trashy
Each letter costs $5, and Santa's maverick
helpers who perform this service first send
you a questionnaire to sharpen their

nasty minds. For more info, write to The
Naughty Elves, 177-F Riverside Avenue,
Newport Beach, California 92663

THE FX IS IN

"Toyota launched its line of 1987 machines at Mid-Ohio race track not long
ago, and we were there to go mano a mano with other journalists in some
mighty sexy wheels. The new Supra adds intercooled turbocharging and
antilock braking to Toyota's road warrior, which now boasts a top speed of
156 mph. (We know. One of Ohio's finest nailed us doing 97 mph, and
we almost became permanent residents of the quaint Holmes County
jail.) But the Toyota that rcally caught our fancy was the new Corolla
FX16 pictured above, a pocket rocket with sport suspension and a gutsy
1.6-liter, four-cylinder, 16-valve engine that gets you from zero to 60 in 9.4
seconds and tops out at 115 mph. The base price for an FX16 is about

252 $9500; a sporty GT-S version goes for about $12,500.

YUPPIE GUPPY

Just when you thought the
streams and oceans of the
world were safe from the up-
wardly mobile-minded, along
comes the Diamond Eagle, a
four-inch-long 24-kt.-gold-
plated fishing lure thats
cralted like a fine piece of jew-
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gi s а one-half: point
diamond, has Eagle Claw
hooks and it even comes with a
guarantee that replaces the
lure if it’s stolen, lost or dam-
aged. All this for only $29.95,
postpaid, sent to Diamond
Eagle. 29 East Madison Street,
Suite 1000, Chicago 60602.
What a fish story!

"s e

SERIOUS
CALCULATIONS

Hewlett-Packard has just
introduced the Business Con-
sultant pocket calculator, fea-
turing built-in programs for
finance, general business, time/
appointments and more—and
if this doesn't get you onto the
fast track хо the top in your
corporation, you'd better retire
your pinstriped power suit and
wing-tip shoes. The Business
Consultant costs $175, and we
show it here teamed with
Hewleu-Packard's new cord-
less printer (about $150),
which communicates with the
calculator via an infrared beam.
Pick a pair. Be somebody

Rick Hacker, the author who
had the pipe world puffing a

w years ago with his lavish
The Ultimate Pipe Book, has
smoked up a new story just їп
time for yulctidc. It's The
Christmas Pipe, a signed lim-
ited edition (2500) with a gold-
stamped cover and photos and
illustrations galore, plus a
chapter that chronicles such
esoteric tobacco lore as “The
Legend of the Christmas
Pipe.” Hacker's latest offering
is available at pipe shops or
from him for $26.95, postpaid,
P.O. Box 634, Beverly Hills,
!alifornia 90213, It's а great
side read. Light up

HOLIDAY PIPE DREAM |

LOSING INTEREST IN VISA

If you're paying 16 to 22 percent annual interest
on your VISA or MasterCard, has Will Hertz-
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his booklet How to Get 12% Interest Visa &
MaxterCards—and, yes, it docs reveal information
on states that set their credit-card limits just a
few percentage points above the Federal discount
rate. Hertzberg's address: 3960 Laurel Canyon
Boulevard, Suite 150 P, Studio City, California
91604. Let's hope his mailman has a strong back.

HOT TO GO

James Bond would love this—a small black
battery-operated case housing a tiny flashlight
and a heating element connected to a slim steel
rod. When the rod is inserted into a frozen lock, it
quickly heats up; and in about 30 seconds, the
mechanism is thawed out and working again. ?
burned fingers or scorched paint from fumbling
with matches or a butane lighter. All for $5, post-
paid, sent to The Davenport Company, P.O. Box
24, Willow Springs, Illinois 60480.

253

GRAPEVIN

Miracle Worker

Debbie Actress IRENE MIRACLE made her first appearance on the
Does big screen in Midnight Express. Currently, you can see her
Modelin with Tony Curtis in The Last of Philip Banter and with

5 Timothy Bottoms in In the Shadow of Kilimanjaro. In case
British model DEB- you have to wait for either of these movies, we've devised
BIE TARRANTE is a our own visual miracle right here.
familiar face on cal-
endars and in adver-

fisements. She has
posed for Lord Lich-
field, the queen's
photographer and
cousin, It's up to us
1o make her famous
in America; we're
doing our part.

e 1906 PIP / LGI

ALAN HOUGHTON

о AToothy Grin
$ This is not just another pretty face. Singer PHILIP BAILEY has a le-
S' gion of fans, from his years in Earth, Wind and Fire, and since 1984, as
f a solo artist. Singing Easy Lover with Phil Collins didn't hurt, either. His
$ recent album, Inside Out, was produced by the legendary Nile Rodgers,
and it sped up the charts. Now, if only he can get to the right dentist,
Bailey's life will be nearly perfect.

Walking on the Wild Side

Here are two great musicians—left, JOE JACKSON, and right, LOU

Љо deserve more attention than they usually get. We're going to

gi lo them. Both of them had successful American tours; both had hot
albums, Jackson's Big World and Reed's Mistrial. Reed also appeared at the
Amnesty concerts. Jackson's next project is an all-instrumental album with
orchestra. Catch them if you can, in person, on video or vinyl. It’s worth it.

B Is for Belinda
Former Go-Go BELINDA CARLISLE is back,
bigger than ever, with a revitalized career, а
top-20 album, a video, a new marriage and а
tour that will extend into January. Says
Belinda, “I've been eating right,
keeping good hours, getting
plenty of sleep. It's paid off.”

PAUL NATKIN/ PHOTO RESERVE INC.

1966 MARK LEIVDAL

It’s a Wrap!

DENISE MARTEL is a singer and actress. She has appeared in various
rock and fitness videos and on TV and currently is working on a movie
titled La Bamba. It’s not every actress who can look so inviting actually
wearing her work. Denise can.

„ PLAYBOY'S GALA 33RD
m ANNIVERSARY ISSUE

QUESTIONS EVANGELICALISM MARILYN

ALGETS PUMPED UP
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9

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What separates Spectrum 2 from
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2

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