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Its not what you say, but how you say it.

The approach о! Fathers Day
can bring about all kinds о!
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DISIE (OME Re ПНЕ, MYSTERY I TS РА ЛОТ RAC ОМ

COLOGNE FOR MEN

E 1990Shuton Inc USA

PLAYBILL

WE COULD CALL THIS our drug, sex, rock-and-roll, television, base-
ball and radioactive-radicchio iss ig for everyone.

Novelist Robert Stone (author of A Flag for Sunrise) looks at the
маг on drugs and finds alarming parallels to the debacle in Viet-
nam. Fighting the Wrong War examines the consequences ol а
policy under which everyone in power refuses 10 consider that, in
this battle, there may be limits to the effectiveness of American
economic and military might. Robert Scheer adds a reality check
with a commentary on Washington mayor Marien Barry, who has
had his own brush with the war on drugs.

Sex? In The Gas-Station Caper and Other Tales of the Night,
Contributing Editor Asa Baber examines the risks men take for
love and lust. Carcening down ski slopes, riding English motor-
cycles through the cold, crawling through rice paddies in camou-
flage—all are part of the care and feeding of an erection.

Rock and roll? We sent none other than Alex Haley Lo get to the
root of it all with n-depth interview with Quincy Jones. Haley is
no stranger to either music or interviews—his first project for
Playboy was the very first Playboy Interview, a Q.&A. with Miles
Davis. As for Jones, he is a man whose life embodies musi
Among his most successful projects: producing Thriller and a lit-
Че ditty called We Are the World. Next, check out the profile of
Aaron Neville, Steve Pond limns the former longshoreman/drug
abuser/thug/Wild Tchoupitoulas member turned singing part-
ner 10 Linda Ronstadt in Aaron Nevilles Amazing Grace (illustrated
by David Levine). Pond is an old New Orleans hand—he goes there
every year, not for Mardi Gras, which is too crazy, but for the Jazz
Festival, which is just crazy enough.

Speaking of just crazy enough, we sent Pamela Marin backstage
to cover the cast and crew of the funniest show on television.
Hanging Ош with the Bundys (illustrated by Pamela Hobbs) is a
fun look at the chemistry that goes into Married . . . with Chil-
dien. Find out how the Bundys, arguably the sexiest couple on
television, have been hassled by Tery Rakelta, arguably not the

Rakolta complains that television doesnt respect family values.
Nonsense. What about Тие Simpsons? They fight, they squabble,
they underachieve. We asked Neil Tesser to toss 20 Questions at
Matt Groening, the creator of what many think is the most realistic
family on television, T-shirt and novelty it

What is more American than TV? Baseball. Randy Weyne White,
a Florida fishing guide and novelist, took a flier last year and
tried out for the Senior Professional Baseball Association League.
In The Boys of Winter, he recounts hi и re never
too old to ride the bus—or to savor the thrill of a ride in а roaring
speedboat: Get a look at the best of the in Power Play.

So where does the radioactive ra Lucius Shep-
ard's The All-Consuming (with art by Fred Stonehouse) is a lush, sur-
real fantasy about a Japanese gourmand who decides to eat a
radioactive forest. Thi ing a Rolls-Royce Corniche,
Presleys leather-and-rhinestone jump sui
guitar played by Jimi Hendrix and lee Harvey Oswald's Carcano
rifle. You are what you cat. We don't know if this will catch on, but
if it does, you'll learn about it first le, a look at what's hot that.
will be a recurring feature in Playboy After Hours

When you've finished moving your eyes from left to right, you
can rest them on Sharon Stone, who plays Ameld Schwarzenegger's
wife in Total Recall. Stone is an old friend of West Coast Photo
Editor Marilyn Grabowski, who picked up a pencil to profile the ob-
Want more? Check out Contributing
Photographer Richard Fegleys shots of Marilyn Menroe look-alike
Rhonda Ridley-Scort and Contributing Photographer Stephen Way-
Чез pictures of Miss July, Jacqueline pus
vhat kind of dressing goes with radioactive radicchio?

BABER

A
STONE

POND LEVINE

SHLPARD GRABOWSKI ТЕЗЕК

wie DIXON

Playboy (ISSN 0032-1478), July 1990, volume 37, number 7. Published monthly by Playboy in national and regional editions, Playboy,

680 North Lake Shore Drive, Chicago, Ши

650611. Second-class postage paid а

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Of course, the CDX-7540 incorporates all the CD technology you'd expect from the company that invented
Compact Disc. Sony's 8x oversampling digital filter and dual D/A converters play your music with a clarity that
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So if concerns about price, security, or installation have kept you from
upgrading your car's sound, experience the Sony CDX-7540 or 7580 CD Players. SONY:

You may well forget your reservations. THE LEADER IN DIGITAL AUDIO”

PLAYBOY

vol. 37, no. 7—july 1990 CONTENTS FOR THE MEN'S ENTERTAINMENT MAGAZINE
AAA ehren nun некоа, 3
DEAR PLAYBOY. ....... вика вини ва Л PCR REPE. т
A A EUER RT a re RA ERES RATE 15
A DAN JENKINS 33
MEN aos ASA BABER 36
THE PLAYBOY АОУБОЕ...........:......:......--...---.....».........ӛ... 41
Acting Up. Р. 118

THE PLAYBOY FORUM Ре РРР aa ns x T 45
REPORTER'S NOTEBOOK:

CRIMES AND MISDEMEANORS—opinion. .......... ...ROBERT SCHEER 55
PLAYBOY INTERVIEW: QUINCY JONES—candid conversation ............. a 57
FIGHTING THE WRONG WAR—article ...................... ROBERT STONE 68
MGT GORMAN rer SSDS 72
THE GAS-STATION CAPER

AND OTHER TALES OF THE NIGHT-ortide . . = -... ASA BABER 80
THE ALL-CONSUMING=fiction. ss LUCIUS SHEPARD 84
THE BOYS OF WINTER—anrticle...... Sa 2... RANDY WAYNE WHITE ве
BRIT WiT—fashion. . .. а T HOLLIS WAYNE 89
ACTION JACKSON— playboy's playmate of the month.................. 220%
PLAYBOY'S PARTY JOKES—humor ......... l ale a eee eee 106
POWER PLAY—modern living .......................... JOHN WOOLDRIDGE 108 rer
AARON NEVILLE’S AMAZING GRACE—playboy profile............ STEVE POND 112
HANGING OUT WITH THE BUNDYS—article. . . 554524 -. PAMELA MARIN 114
DISHING WITH SHARON—pictorial.................... PR 118
20 QUESTIONS: MATT GROENING ................. Nase " A 130
PLAYBOY COLLECTION—modem Іміпе...................................... 132
аа СЕ THE о АРРОС RT ы 169
COVER STORY

She has hunted for gold with Richard Chamberlain, ducked bullets with
Steven Seagal and traveled through the galaxy with Arnold Schwarzenegger.
Now get ready for the fiery Sharon Stone to really heat things up. Our cover
was produced by West Coast Photo Editor Marilyn Grabowski, styled by Lane
Coyle-Dunn and shot by Contributing Photographer Stephen Wayda, with
hair and make-up by Tami Morris. The Rabbit prepares for a meltdown.

GENERAL OFFICE: PLAYBOY во NORTH LANE SHORE Dave, CHICAGO, LUND асан. PLAYBOY ASSUMES но пезгоневилу то тиян UNSOLICITED

оя GRAPHIC MATERIAL ALL RIGHTS m LETTERS ANO

THE FLAT EARTH, OAT BR

|
| THE TIME: CENTURIES АСО. THE PREVAILING BELIEF! THE EARTH WAS

FLAT. THERE WERE PLAGUES. AND OAT BRAN WAS STILL A GOOD FEW HUN-
DRED YEARS AWAY. че ON THE PLUS SIDE, HOWEVER, OAT BRAN WAS STILL
A GOOD FEW HUNDRED YEARS AWAY. YOU COULD BUY A PRETTY NIFTY
CASTLE FOR $132.00 AND CHANCE. AND THERE WAS POLISH VODKA.

WYBOROWA. (VEE-BO-ROVA.) FIRST DISTILLED CENTURIES AGO. AND LEGEND-

CAL POLISH

REPAST
BACK

THEN, FOR

EXAMPLE, MIGHT

INCLUDE BORSCHT AND WYBOROWA.! SOME JELLIED CARP AND

“VEE-BO-ROVA'' VODKA FROM POLAND.

AN AND POLISH VODKA.

WYBOROWA. QUAIL EGGS, ROAST PORK, SAUSAGE... AND WYBOROWA. AND

DESSERT? POLISH PASTRIES WITH WATER.
AND WYBOROWA. Є WHY HAS IT

FLOURISHED SINCE THE EARTH WAS

7/ FLAT? TASTE IT. YOU'LL FIND
и

IT INEFFABLY SMOOTH. A RESULT OF A TRIPLE-DISTILLING

PROCESS USED CENTURIES AGO. BEFORE THEY DISCOVERED

MANNER IN WHICH IT WAS ENJOYED ACES АСО.

STRAIGHT. ALL THAT'S REQUIRED IS A RATHER COM-

FORTABLE CHAIR, A CLEAN GLASS AND A BOTTLE OF

SAID VODKA. THE QUAIL EGGS ARE OPTIONAL.

EN]OYED FOR CENTURIES STRAICHT.

‘= WIEORONA WODKA 100% GRAIN NEUTRAL SPIRITS 49% AND 50% ALCOHOL BY VOLUME (80 AND 100 PROOF) 11930 e IMPORTED BY 375 SPIRITS СО . NEW YORK, NEN YORK

Dyansen Gallery
Celebrating
its Tenth Year

Presents:

Dyansen Gallery, in conjunction
with Norton Herrick and Curtis
Hendrix Fine Arts Group, Inc.,
is pleased to present the original
paintings of LeRoy Neiman
created for The Playboy Clubs
This collection, spanning the
latc 50s to carly 70s, includes
some of Neiman's most
important works — from
racetracks to casinos to
captivating cover art. See them
now at Dyansen Galleries.

On Exhibit: ;
Beverly Hills June 15-30 š

San Francisco August 15-31 š

A comprehensive video

catalogue is available.

For farther information, or to
order your video, please call,
in New York (212) 925-5550
or (800) 541-0668

“Gaming Table," Oil on board, 72 x 48 inches.

O A L b EREY

A PUBLIC COMPANY

Trump Taj Mahal
South Pennsylvania Avenue, Atlantic City, NJ 08401

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PLAYBOY

HUGH M. HEFNER
editor-in-chief

ARTHUR KRETCHMER editorial director
JONATHAN BLACK managing editor
TOM STAEBLER art director
GARY COLE photography director

EDITORIAL
ARTICLES: JOHN REZEK “ilor; PETER MOORE Sen-
ior editor; FICTION: ALICE K. TURNER editor;
MODERN LIVING: DAVID STEVENS senior edi
lor; PHILLIP COOPER, ED WALKER associate editors
FORUM: TERESA GROSCH associate editor; WEST
COAST: STEPHEN RANDALL editor; STAFF: СКЕТСН.
EN EDGREN senior editor; JAMES R PETERSEN
senior staff writer; BRUCE KLUGER, BARBARA NELLIS,
KATE SOLAN associate editors; JOHN LUSK trafic
coordinator; FASHION: HOLLIS WAYNE edilor;
WENDY GRAY assistant editor; CARTOONS
MICHELLE URRY editor; COPY: ARLENE BOURAS
editor; LAURIE ROGERS assistant editor; MARY ZION
senior researcher; LEE BRAUER, CAROLYN: BROWNE
BARI NASH, REMA SMITH. DEBORAH WEISS research
ers; CONTRIBUTING EDITORS: ASA BABER.
DENIS BOVLES, KEVIN COOK, LAURENCE GONZALES,
LAWRENCE GROBEL, CYNTHIA HEIMEL WILLIAM J
HELMER, DAN JENKINS, WALTER LOWE. JR. D. KEITH
MANO. REG FOTTERTON, DAVID RENSIN. RICHARD
RHODES. DAVID SHEFE DAVID STANDISH, BRUCE
WILLIAMSON (movies), SUSAN MARGOLIS-WINTER

ART
KERIG POPE managing director; CHET SUSKI. LEN
WILUS senior directors; BRUCE HANSEN associate di
areloy; JOSEPH PACZEK. ERIC SHROPSHIRE assistant
directors; KRISTIN KORJENER junior director; ANN
зеи. senior keyline and paste-up artist; BILL BEN
WAY. PAUL CHAN art assistanis; BARBARA HOFFMAN
administrative manager

PHOTOGRAPHY
MARILYN CR AROWSKI лее coast editor; JEFF COMEN
managing editor; LINDA KENNEY. JAMES LARSON,
MICHAEL ANN SULLIVAN associate editors; PATTY
HEAUDEL assistant editor; POMPEO POSAR senior
ма photographer; sveve CONWAY assistant photog-
тег; DWID CHAM. RICHARD FECLEY. AENY
FREYTAG., RICHARD IZUI, DAVID МЕСЕҮ, BYRON
NEWMAN. STEPHEN WAYDA contributing phologra-
fheis; sitis WELLS stylist; STEVE LEVITT color
lab supervisor; oux Goss business manager

MICHAEL PERLIS publisher
JAMES SPANFELLER associate publisher

PRODUCTION
JOHN MASTRO director; MARIA MANDIS manager;
RITA JOHNSON assistant manager; JODY JURGETO,
RICHARD QUARTAROLI. CARRIE HOCKNEY assislants

CIRCULATION
BARBARA GUTMAN subscription circulation direc
lor; ROBERT ODONNELL retail marketing and sales
director; SUENE N. COHEN communications director

ADVERTISING
JEFFREY D MORGAN associate ad director; STEVE
MEISNER midwest manager: JOHN EASLEY new york
sales director

READER SERVICE
CYNTHIA LACEYSIBICH manager; LINDA STROM,
MIKE OSTROWSKI correspondents

ADMINISTRATIVE
EILEEN KENT editorial services manager; MARCIA
TERRONES rights & permissions administrator

PLAY BOY ENTERPRISES, INC.
CHRISTE HEFNER chairman, chief executive officer

Traction that goes the distance. Mile after mile.

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SURGEON GENERAL'S WARNING: Smoking
By Pregnant Women May Result in Fetal

1 а е š Н 17 mg "tar; 1.1 mg nicotine
Injury, Premature Birth, And Low Birth Weight. far данае DV ET Rad салтына қалақ

DEAR PLAYBOY

ADDRESS DEAR PLAYBOY
PLAYBDY MAGAZINE
BI NORTH LAKE SHORE DRIVE
CHICAGO, ILLINOIS 60611

STEPHEN HAWKING INTERVIEW

I commend both Playboy and Morgan
Strong for an excellent Playboy Interview
with physicist Stephen Hawking (April).
Both his will to drive forward in his re-
search, battling his illness along the way.
and his attempt to bring quantum physics
10 a level understood by the common man
are remarkable. Hawkings discussions
make our Big Macs, the N.EL. and Porsche
9115 seem trivial

Robert M. Grillo
Floral Park, New York

The interview with the brave Stephen
Hawking had me glued to the pages. Гус
never been so intrigued with an inter
from beginning to end as with this onc,
and not until ГА finished it did 1 realize 1
hadn't understood what I'd read.

Robert A. Jansson

Portland, Connecticut

1 was somewhat surprised, but thor-
oughly pleased, to read the interview with
Hawking. He is a truly amazing person. I
had the pleasure of meeting him several
years ago at а national meeting of the
American 4 tion for ıhe Advanı
ment of Science, at which he gave a
presentation to encourage people with
handicapping conditions to consider sci-
eer option.

At that time, he still had the use of his
voice, though a graduate assistant repeat-
ed his words to the audience; I then inter-
preted his talk into sign language for the
hearing-impaired attendees. Не is a
remarkable role model. 1 commend you
for bringing him to the attention of many
who otherwise might be unaware of his
achievements.

B. Ed:

4 Cain, Ph.D.

Professor of Chemistry
ute of Technology
k

Rochester In:
Rochester, New Yo

1 read Stephen Haw
History of Time and I ha
tures. Playboy's interview with him prov
the most profound theory of them all:

The greatest injustice in this world is our
own mortality" —Hugh M. Hefner.

orge Sidoti

East Northport, New York

Stephen Hawking paints the universe as
something with a rhythmic pulse. He
makes me wonder if our universe is just
one beat inan ever-rearranging symphony
Traveling in his mind made me feel handi-
capped. Thanks for the brief journey in
this brilliant man’s world.

Scott Miller
Itasca, Піп

Bravo to Morgan Strong for a most
timely, albeit difficult, interview. Where
there is vision, the people Hourish. Ste-
phen Hawking' vision of reality continues
to trickle down to the и m the Street.
The human race nt leap
he East is giving up its gover
ment. The West must give up its God
g ought to receive the Nobel Peace

Loren Toomsen
Clcar Lake, lowa

DALE BROWN

Kevin Cook's Dale Brown Prays for Bob
Knight (Playboy, April) is just another
media potshot at a man I'm certain neither
Cook nor Brown even begins to under-
nd.
1 suppose that when you are regarded as
one of the best in your field, these attacks
come with the territory. But those who
have had the opportunity to sce all sides of
this remarkable individual know that the
real Bob Knight would never stoop to the
behavior Brown des Es article
But then, as Cook alizes, who
would read Dale Brown Prays for Jerry
Tarkanian?

Scott Simpson
olis, Indiana

basketball fan for
appreciated the fine article about the LSU
coach, Dale Brown, in your April issue. 1

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PLAYBOY

was disappointed, however, that по men-
tion is made of two of colleges and
professional basketball's greatest all-time
players, Bob Peitit and Pete Maravich.
They put LSU on the map long before
Browns arrival. In fact, the fine athletic

center where Brown now performs hi
miracles is named in honor of the late
Maravich.

Edwards Hardesty
Baton Rouge, Louisia

could be the source of coach

nger toward Bobby Knight,
other than plain old jealousy? Knight has
coached teams to three N.C.A.A. champi-
onships, while Brown still hasnt won the
big one. Head to head, Brown is 0 for 2
against Knight. Knight coaches in the Big
Ten, the nations premiere conference,
whereas Brown has to settle for the S.E.C.,
which gets weaker by the year. Why cant
Dale just admit that Knight is a better
coach? Last season, Knight took a team
that was picked by many to finish as low as
seventh in the Big Ten to a conference
championship. This year, Browns team
was loaded with talent and he still couldn't
come close.

Don Owens
West Lafayette, India

SEX ON THE BRAIN
If Michael Hutchison (Sex on the Brain,
Playboy, April) really thinks that men have
a corner on the market of desiring variety
ı their sex par un has rarely had a
truthful conversation with a woman other
than his mother, aunt or sister
We are just as hungry as you guys, and i
Hutchison really believes that we dont
have a twinge lor “strange” more than we
care to admit, he’s kidding himself.
Gemma Castellano
Carolina Beach, North С

rolina

In Sex on the Brain, Hutchison writes,
“Surveys of the frequency with which
males and females engage in sex indicate
that males al all ages have sex more fre-
quently” Truly amazing! With whom are
they having it?

Lisa Thornq
Gilroy California

Let's get this straight. A man will fuck
everything in the henhouse but will not do
the act more than once with the same cow.
If a female chimpanzee grooms him, his
testosterone level soarsand he becomes the
dominant male.

Ifa woman has a high testosterone lev
she will mate indiscriminately Instead of
holding out for a Harvard Ph.D., she will
have sex with Michael Hutchison. The re-
sultant offspring will dilute the gene pool.

Roland Gilbert.
Oakland. California

GIRLS OF THE A.C.C.
I must express my disappointment with
the Girls of the АСС. pictorial in your

April issue, Why? Because 1 kept looking
for the girl from NC State you featured on
your Next Monih page in March! Who is
she? Does she actually appear in the April
layout? Could I have been so stunned by all
the other beauties that I overlooked her?
Mark Niethamer
El Paso, Texas
Well, Mark, the woman is there, so be ready

to be stunned again. Shes Lainie Fuller, on
page 143 in the April issue. Heres Lainie
From another angle. Got Ihe picture?

LISA MATTHEWS

1 got a kick out of April Playmate Lisa
Matthews’ comments concerning her pet
chinchilla, Chester, and her desire to own
a cow named Hank. We breed registered
Texas Longhorn cattle and 1 concur with
Lisa's choice of cows as a favorite animal.
From firsthand experience, we have found

¡enc
that bull calves actually make friendlier

nd more docile pets than their sister:
The name Hank seems to be better suited
10 a male, anyway. In honor of Lisas
beauty, enthusiasm and love of animals.
with her permission, the first spring
keeper bull calf we get here at Ranch 997
will be registered with the Texas
Longhorn Breeders Association of Ameri-
ca as Lisa's Hank!

Ted Robertson
Bixby, Oklahoma

"A FINE EYE FOR TYRANTS"
Robert Scheer's assertion in. Reporters
Notebook, “А Fine Eye for Tyrants”
(Playboy, April), that George Bush ordered
the invasion of Panama to cover up the
news leak of his sending two high-level
security advisors to China is outrageous.
The news leak was more likely a diversi
from an invasion that had been planned
for months.
As we have scen by the recent Nica-
raguan election, Bush may be on the right
track in not comparing oranges with ap-
ples, or China with South America.
Jerry E Jones
Mission Viejo, Californi:

IN THE COMPANY OF MEN
Having read David Mamet's article In the
Company of Men (Playboy, April), 1 ее why

my husband needs his night out without
me, and | am going to try not to complain.
(at least not pitch holy-hell fit m he
doesn't love me, or threaten to lock him out
if he doesnt get home at a decent hour). I
still probably won't like his night out with
his friends, but I've always believed that
understanding something was halfway to
being able to deal with it

nd cl

Jean Kocbernick
Memphis, Tennessee

BABER ON WOMEN
Its ironic that in your April issue, Dear

Playboy contains such praise for Asa Baber
while his Men column in that same issue is
so far off base. Don't get me wrong, I am
usually in agreement with his opinions—
but in his April column, “The Real Man's
Dictionary,” Baber lowers himself to the
same hateful level as some feminists.
Whether we make up new names such as
manizer and femfascist or use old ones
such as prick tease and bitch, the result
is going to be increased hostility and a
wider gender gap. That is not the way to
convince anyone that men are, indeed,
people and deserve respect, unde
standing and equal parental and employ
ment rights, The way to achieve that kind
of understanding and eliminate some of
the hate is for everyone to stop throwing
names and start talking with one another.
rald W Hilts

Olympia, Washington

English professor, I constantly
marvel at—and am delighted by—the
high quality of Asa Baber'

The Real Man's Dictionat
teristic of Baber's work—witty, perceptive,
pertinent and a great read. Yes, men (and
sympathetic women, too) do need a new
vocabulary to name our experiences in
this age of femspeak.

May I add my own contribution to Bat-
tling Baber's Real Mans Dictionary?

patriphobia: an irrational fear and
loathing of patriarchy, which is imagined
as a massive conspiracy by the entire male
sex to oppress and dominate the entire
female sex.

Clearly, we need such a word. As Baber
knows only too well, patriphobia has
reached epidemic proportions in parts of
our society, especially on college campuses.
Eugene August
Dayton, Ohio

HEIMEL ON CHILDREN
As an often-frustrated mother, I would
like to say that Cynthia Heimels Women
‚column “Childhood Is Powerful” (Playboy,
April) sheds new light on my role as a par-
ещ and my sons right to be himself. What
T it is to read a column that leaves
you with loving solutions and hope for nor-
mal relationships! Thanks, Cynthia.
Lynn Porter
Honolulu, Hawaii

Fit for a Dad.
To send a gilt of Crown Royal. dal 1-800-238-4373. Void where prol

The beer that will

make you turn your back
on other imports.

жете

7 Же "y a

PLAYBOY AFTER HOURS

NEW AGE GAL

Folk singer Christine Lavin admits that
it probably wasn't а great idea to tell the
newspaper reporter who asked her about
her new song, Sensitive New Age Guys, that
he was "too sensitive.” The guy retaliated
later in print, calling her “obscure, for
good reason.” Among other things, the
song declares New Age guys to be men
“who like to cry at weddings, who think
Rambo is upsetting.” “Hey, it's just a goof,”
Lavin told us.

Oh, well, that isn’t the first time Lavin's
twistedly screwy songwriting has raised
someone's hackles. The London Daily Mir-
ror called her engagement song to Prince
Charles “rude and tasteless.” She warns the
prince about succumbing to Lady Diana's
looks and wealth. Lavin no longer per-
formsthe tune—which was banned in parts
of Britain—because she feels sorry for the
future king of England. "It's obvious his
wife doesn't hang out with him,” she told
us. “Let's face и: He's intelligent; she didn't
even graduate from high school. I'm
afraid they are going to get divorced, then
he's going to call me up and ask me out."

Her song Don't Ever Call Your Sweet
heart by His Name so offended former New
York mayor Ed Koch at a performance
for the city that her subsequent city-hall
engagements were canceled. Her ode to
the dangers and joys of sex aids, Artificial
Means, explores a romance between a
man, his blow-up doll, his wife and her bat-
tery-powered vibrator. Lavin admits she
has probably written the first love song
about a vibrator, but she notes with pride
that at least she didn't use clinical terms. "T
ат a nice Catholic girl.

Lavin's album Good Thing He Cart Read
My Mind includes some slower, prettier,
more serious tunes. But she's still cracking
wise: Her current three-city summer tour
(with three other female folkies) is tagged
Buy Me-Bring Ме-Јаке Me-Dor't Mess
My Hair: Life According to Four Bitchin’
Babes and she's regularly crooning such
lipped-up ditties as The Epstein-Barr Blues
and Prisoners of Their Hair. The latter is
about “celebrities who cant change their
hair styles because they are afraid they

won't be recognized,” explained Lavin. “I
don't mean to cast aspersions on Crystal
Gayle, but she must have nightmares about.
being chased by scissors" Or at least by
sharp-witted folkies. We love you, Chris-
tine; don't ever change.

YUK

When Houstons KKBQ-FM, the self-
proclaimed “party pig station,” promised
to pay $10,000 to the winner of “9305
Most Outrageous Contest” this past winter,
its phone lines, fax lines and mail room
were swamped with thousands of stunt
suggestions ranging from the ridiculous to
the revolting. Among the hopeful, many
appeared to be suffering from overexpo-
sure to Late Night with David Letterman's
Stupid Human Tricks. One wanna-be
promised to fill a car with catsup and crush
it with a steam roller; another wanted 10
put a condom on a horse. They didn't make
the final cut.

Those who did went public with their
outrageous acts in a night-club parking lot
One guy ate the eyes out of three fish
heads. Another shaved and ate his under-
arm hair. Another, clad only in trunks, cov-

ered himself with meat products and
allowed a pack of dogs to chow down. Not
to be outgrossed, one woman let a dozen
live cockroaches crawl around on her
tongue before chewing and swallowing
them. Another, wearing a snorkel. lay face-
down for five minutes in a tank full of wa.
ter and carthworms. A couple of women
coated themselves in honey and chocolate
syrup and rolled in shredded coconut and
almonds. Another duo smeared their bod-
ies with petroleum jelly, sat in a wading
pool filled with hot dogs and squirted each
other with catsup and mustard while
singing the Oscar Mayer theme song.

The presumably — strong-stomached
judges, including Alonzo Highsmith and
Jay Pennison of the Oilers and Glenn
Wilson of the Astros, proclaimed Colin
Thiele, 19, a college student and hotel desk
derk, the most outrageous. Their decision
is hard to dispute. Wearing a puke-yellow
shirt proclaiming him coun THE AMAZING
BELLY-FLOPPING BOY, Thiele wallowed in a
13-inch-deep pool of pig manure while
performing other antics, including the Hula-
Hoop plunge (diving through the hoop
and flipping into the pool) and bobbing

for—then cating—apples and
Thiele told us he didn't even gag: “Hey,
anything for ten thousand dollars —moncy
is money” What will he do with the cash?
Invest it in CDs "or maybe pork bellies,” he
explained.

carrots.

PARRIS IN THE SPRING

You've heard about those sports-fantasy
camps where frustrated mid-life jocks go
to bat or skate, or shoot hoops and shit,
shower and shave with their heroes. Well,
how's this for a variation on the theme?
Two Chicago veterans from the Third
Marine Division Association, Dick Wolf
and Zig Zudyk, organized a “Return to
Boat Camp” excursion to Parris Island,
South Carolina, this past May. For less than
$500—including air fare, ground trans-
portation and а three-night stay at the
Beaufort Days Inn—weckend enlistees got
to observe hand-to-hand combat and basic
warrior training, tour squad-bay recruit

RAW

DATA

QUOTE

fe plan to organ-
ize some tourist vis-
its Lo see the bunkers,
the underground tun-
nels, the houses of
the [Ceausescu] fam-
i MIHAIL — LUPOL,
tourism minister, de-
scribing his plan for
bringing hard cur-
rency into postrevolu-
tion Romania

HAVE РНОМ
WILL TRAVEL
First commercial
cellular-telephone sys-
tem to go on line in
the US.: Ameritech,
in Chicago on Octo-
ber 13, 1983.

ian

Number of cellular-
telephone subscribers
in the US. as of
December 31, 1989:
3,500,000.

Average number of new subscribers
added cach month: 118,500.

Dollar value of cellular-telephone-
equipment sales in 1989: 0,000,000.
Projected sales for 1990: $655,000,000.

Size and weight of the Microtac, the
smallest portable phone available: 13.5
cubic inches, 12.3 ounces. Price: $3000.

Average monthly cellular-phone bill:

$69.30.

Percentage of users whose companies
pay for their service: 78.

Average length of a call: two minutes,
48 seconds.

Percentage of users who purchased a
cellular phone to increase business pro-
ductivity, 81; who say they have more
than doubled their productivity, 12.

Percentage of all users who pur-
chased a cellular phone for personal
security, seven; of female users who

FACT OF THE MONTH a

According to a poll at Mad-
ame Tussauds Wax Museum in
London, visitors’ favorite poli-

is Margaret Thatcher. ST.
Their choice forthe most feared
and hated: first, Adolf Hitler; .
second, Margaret Thatcher,

purchased a cellular
phone for person-
al sccurity, 25.

Percentage increase
in female users [rom
1986 to 1989: 275.

Number of cellular
phones stolen рег
month from automo-
biles in the 20 largest
mobile-phone mar-
kets: 2000.

HOLDING PATTERNS}

Number of delays
1989 per 1000 take-
and landings at
LaGuardia, New York,
115; at O'Hare, Chi-
cago, 88; at San Fran-

cisco, 68; at Bostun,
; at Denver, 27; at

Atlanta, 25.

Number of regular-
ly scheduled. flights
that were late more than 80 percent of.
the time in onc month (November), ac-
cording to the Department of Trans-

DIM THE LIGHTS:

xually
apes rented P ТЕ A
video stores, according to a survey by
Adult Video News: 348,000,000. Cost of
rentals: $768,000,000.
.

Amount spent for purchases of adult
video tapes in 1988, not including mail
orders: $180,000,000.

Percentage of adult video tapes rent-
ed by men, 53; by women, 18; by cou-
ples, 2

Number of adult video tapes released
in 1983, 400; in 1985, 1600; in 1989,
1500.

Number of Federal obsceni
ments issued in 1987 involving a
video tapes and publications, according.
to the newsletter Free Speech, 2
1988, 37; in 1989, 115.

barracks and the chapel and then chow
down in the recruit mess hall and “O” club.

Wolf told us that, unlike sports-fantasy
camps, the Parris Island expedition was
“definitely obs 7 But during the
weapons-training battalion briefing, a few
proud and brave souls got to fire MIGAS.
And that, we suppose, made the whole trip.
worth while.

GRIZZLY REDRESS

Life is tough on big game in Montana
And it may get a little tougher on gr izzly
bears. The United States Fi il
Service has proposed open hunting on
grizzlies that are crea
neighboring Yellowstone and G
National Parks.

But never fear for the grizzlics—the
radical environmental group Earth Fi
is on their side. Its members recently d
clared open scason on “nuisance bureau
crats” in Missoula, where the U.S. Fish &
Wildlife Se is located. “This
perb opportunity to expand and diver
the h ce while alleviating a
reads Earth First's publicity.
Members go after their prey armed with
butterfly nets and money-baited traps.

What have they bagged? So far, some
good press for the grizzl

USE THE 46 DEFENSE

University of Arizona e
Robert Smith, who has bc:
sperm of insects, has recently drawn cer-
tain conclusions about its human counter-
part. He claims that w arge numbers
of sperm in human ejaculate are unviable,
they may have a purpose alter all: block-
ing the sperm of a competing male.

Citing his research with insects and the
of Br Smith says that
those “kamikaze sperm give up their lives
to aid their fellows and this may occur in
the context of sperm competition" —all of
which reveals a part of conception almost
as glorious as the fun part with which we're
believe:
ng link in Dar-
‘xual selection. Since
human females have been known to mate
with two or more males during a repro-
ductive cycle, Smith speculates that the
survival of the fittest is present at micro-
scopic lev nd that conception goes to
the strongest team effort. So now we can
think of our ejaculate as a tiny football
team: one running back surrounded by
good blocking,

omologist
tudying the

h biolo;

WAGES OF SIN

In a survey, researcher
Minnesota Hospitals asked mentally ill
nts how they thought they got that
blamed health factors such as
diet, exercise and sleep. But almost 95 per-
cent blamed their mental problems on sin-
ful thoughts or acts.

MUSIC

CHARLES M. YOUNG

AFTER THE DEMISE of Led Zeppelin, Robe
Plant spent most of the Eighties absorbi
new influences and searching for the right
band. A collection of interchangeably
talented musicians won't do after a taste of
genius—transcendent rock and roll being
a matter of chemistry.

After four solo albums lacking that
chemistry, Plant found it again with a band
of ambitious unknowns on 19885 Now and.
Zen, an album that showcased his desire to
е all those new influences—whether
from forcign cultures or new technology—
accessible. On Manic Nirvana (Es Paranza/
Atlantic), not only does that chemistry
remain accessible, it burns more intensely
than anything Plant has done since Led
n at its peak. Although the basi
ns stays the same, a new
ingredient in the form of guitarist Doug
Boyle steps forward with the sort of mon-
ster riffs that have always inspired Plant
into the transcendent realms of. frenzy.
Manic Nirvana will thrill anyone whose
brain harbors a 14-year-old boy wanting to
be dazzled by plenty of snarl and scream
and pyrotechnic virtuosity If Boyle isn't
the next major cover boy on all the guitar
mags, ГИ be very surprised. At ine Same
time, Plant has continued his experiment
with sampling, tossing in references to
and Middle Eastern music
ng the drum track 10 Your

from the ог el Sixties ie
last time out, the lyr
the album cover, so it's tougher to figure
out the literal meaning of the songs, but
who cares? Here and there, you pick up a
phrase that indicates Plant's continuing
worship and distrust of fabulous babes, but
the music that matters, and the music
kicks ass.

VIC GARBARINI

Irish songstress Sinéad O'Connor's sec-
ond album, Гро Not Want What 1 Haven't Got
(Chrysalis), opens with Feel So Difjerent, a
song of such raw, unfiltered emotional

i прасі will long
hese not the bitter,
ngs of the shaven-headed,
scared and 23-year-old who used to
praise the І.К.А. and slam U2. Now, with
both moving honesty and haunting inten-
she documents her inner tr:
tion, sans preaching or guilt.
moved beyond those pol
thing whole and healing, turni
inside out in songs that cross-
laments with hip-hop, strings with cor-
roded, grinding guit Sure, there's
anger and hurt, but she's no longer pro-
jecting her pain onto others or milking her
own fragmentation. This is musical open-

E herself

Plant: Music that matters.

Plant gets the Led out,
while Little Richard
gets his due.

heart surgery, passionate yet serene.

Suzanne Vega's first post-Luka effort,
Days of Open Hand (A&M), shows her
putting even more muscle behind her
Soho still lifes. Her songs are more inte-
grated with her beefed-up band sound.
Side two returns to the twilight acou:
her carlier work. Overall, the sense of inti-
macy and mystery here seems abstract and.
a litle distanced—still intriguing, but
sometimes it resonates more in the head
than in the heart.

ROBERT CHRISTGAU

When John Lurie and his brother Evan
introduced the Lounge Lizards to down-
town New York in 1979, it was hard to de-
scribe the band without using the words
sleazy or lounge, or both. Lurie wrote mu-
sic for an android to get drunk to—tune-
ful, swinging, dissonant, proudly soulless,
decorated with patches of chaos to help the
postmodern night crawler feel at home.
But even though you'd think he'd know
better, that wasn't enough for him-—he al-
so wanted to be taken seriously as a saxo-
phone player.

Decent records on three labels failed to
win fortune or respect for Lurie, who
instead became mildly famous co-starring
im Jarmusch's Stranger than Paradise
and Down by Law. But he proved he was
no fake by sticking with music. Lurie
found himself unable to persuade another
major label to give him what he deserved.

So he released Voice of Chunk, on CD and
cassette only on a label called 1-800-
44CHUNK, which is the number to dial
оп your phone to purchase а сору.

So why don'tcha? This is the strongest
music of Lurie's career, combining the old
lounge sleaze with the avantish musicality
he has always aspired to. There's a tango
and a Brechtian chorale and arty intros
you find yourself humming two days later,
and Luries embouchure has gained

GUEST SHOT

AS WELL AS leading his own group and
accompanying jazz giants world wide,
Jazz guitaristcomposer Ricardo Sil-
veira is a member of Brazilian jazz!
pop supergroup Zil, his third LP will
be ош soon. Pianistleomposer Chick
Corea has always been one of Silveira's
heroes, so he had a lot to say about
Corea and his Elektric Bands latest
album, “Inside Out.”

“I first heard Chick play in the
mid-Seventies, when I was studying
jazz in Boston. I've been following
him ever since. Naturally, I hate to
use the words the best, or compare
Inside Out with his other records,
but there is something special about
this one. That may be due to how
long he's been playing with this par-
ticular group of musicians—Chick
knows who he's writing for, and in
each composition here, there's ro
for every player to really stretch.
LP Light Years was a liule more ac-
cessible to the general listener—this
is more of a musician's album, more
complex and intense. But that
doesnt mean its out of reach for
those who don't listen toa lot of jazz.
Just remember that there's an intcl-
lectual bent to Chick's music mak-
ing—he docs that sort of thing as
well as it can be donc. He's just as
distinctive with a band as he is in
his solo work—three notes and you
know it's Chick. Still, because several
of the compositions on /nside Out
are lengthy, you also get a chance to
hear each member of this band strut
his style. For hard-core Corea fans

like me, no question, this ranks
as one of the great Chick Corea
albums.”

FAST TRACKS

Underground
Sex Packets 6

Sinéad O'Connor.
1 Do Not Want What
1 Haven't Got

Robert Plant |
Manic Nirvana

‘Suzanne Vega
Days of Open Hand

~ N |o fo

Peter Wolf |
Up to No Good!

с |o [|o [|o

SUGHTLY SOUTH OF THE BORDER DEPART.
MENT: Van Halen has opened its own
club, The Cabo Wabo Cantina, in Cabo
San Lucas. There is seating for 350, in-
cluding the outdoor bar, and the band
will bottle and market its own tequila.
The cantina will serve food and hav
entertainment that will include locals,
guest stars and an occasional Van Hal-
еп jam session. Oh, yes, the water's safe.

REELING AND ROCKING: We hear that
Miles Davis will have a starring role—his
first—in an upcoming untitled feature
film. . . . Mojo Nixon will appear in Rock
and Roll High School Forever as “the
spirit of rock and roll.” . . . The score
for Dick Tracy, due out June 15, is by
Donny Elfman. . . . Barry Goldberg, former
Electric Flag keyboardist who has played
with Dylan for the past 20 years, is
branching out by writing and produc-
ing songs for Captain America, starring
Matt Salinger, and for the TV version of
the movie Bagdad Cafe. . . . John Candy
and Rick Moranis will team up in the
comedy On the Air, about two shock-
radio d.j.s in Chicago.

NEWSEREAKS: Polygram plans a boxed
set of CDs to mark the 35th anniver-
sary Of James Brown's recording career.
The package may include a substanti
amount of unreleased live material,
plus possibly a video and biography. . . .
Ben Fong-Torres is writing a bio of coun-
try-rock pioneer Gram Parsons. . . . A
global TV event called Countdown
2000 is being planned for the fall by a
former NBC producer and a music
publicist who was involved with Live
Aid and the Amnesty tour. They plan
to combine a rock concert with news
coverage about the environment. . . .
Sting, along with Meg Ryon, Jeff Goldblum
and others, will provide voices for an
a ted series, Captain Planet and Ihe
Planeteers, for Turner Broadcasting. .. .
Last summer, concert promoters had to

contend with the Stones and the Who,
which left concertgoers with little mon-
ey to see any other outdoor acts. This
year, Madonne's tour will end in June,
leaving the summer free for a range of
performers from David Bowie 10 Aero-
smith to XTC to pick up some cash.

Some record merchandisers would like
(о see the price of CDs lowered,
while record companies would like to
see the price of LPs and cassettes
ed. . . . Alana Hamilton, Rod Stewart's
ex, and songwriter Carol Bayer Sager
have teamed up to write some screen-
plays, two of which—/n Sickness and in
Health and Til Death Do Us Part—have
been sold to the movies. . . . Due any
second is the new Jeff Henley album, an
all-star event with George Harrison, Jeff
Lynne, Bobby Whitlock, Poul Shaffer and
Mark Knopfler showing up to make some
music with Healey's band. The album
also features new songs by Knopfler,
John Hiatt and Steve Cropper... . Look for
the Nile Rodgers-produced album of
Stevie Ray and Jimmie Vaughan by the
end of the summer. . .. Following up on
the all-star tribute to John Lennon tbis
Past May in Liverpool, Yoke pla
ries of events to mark Johi
day year. . . . We tip our hats to Shoes
and its new CD Stolen Wishes for prov-
ing that you can make music іп your
basement studio that people other than
your mother want to hear. To he:
Shoes, write to Black Vinyl Records,
2269 Sheridan Road, m, Illinois
60099... . Finally, our friends at Rock

€ Roll Confidential hipped us to Uncut

new tabloid that includes inter-
th the likes of Devid Byrne, Pro-
and Malcolm McLaren. H that's
enough variety for you, send five dol-
lars to Uncut Funk, Box 7: North
College Park, Maryland 20740. Your
mother probably won't be interested.

BARBARA NELLIS

mi These days, musicians who love
jazz are pressed to express their feelings
without sounding reverent or deceived.
Voice of Chunk does the wick. Anybody
from downtown anywhere will recognize
its sonic reality.

DAVE MARSH

Among the great treasures of early rock.
e ranks higher than the purity of Little
Richard's voice and the obse:
vision. The totality of what he did is cap-
tured on The Specialty Sessions (Specialty), a
three-CD boxed set that features every
Richard track released on Specialty, in-
cluding every hit and all the relevant
tes. This is one of the finest repack-
agings in years.

As front man for J. Geils and as a solo
Peter Wolf has been one of the great
disciples of a-wop-bop-a-loo-bop-a-lop-
bam-boom. But nonstop jive as a steady
diet wears thin, as even Little Richard d
covered. Thats part of the reason that
Wolf's earlier solo albums, which were
among the first white rock records to dab-
ble in hip-hop rhythm, remain obscure;
for the most part, he has shown only one
side of himself. On Up to No Good! (MCA),
Wolf finally gets personal, and the result is
music everybody ought to hear. As Shades
of Red-Shades ој Blue demonstrates, Wolf
hasn't lost his sense of humor. But he has
added to it with more elegiac numbers,
such as River Runs Dry, which blends eco-
politics and blues history, and the an-
themic love song Never Let It Go.

NELSON GEORGE
Digital Underground is the latest entry
in the "daisy age" hip-hop category started
by De La Soul. There is no gunplay and
few politics on its debut, Sex Packets
(Tommy Boy). As the title suggests, these
seven Bay Arca rappers are into good.
clean, safe fun. De La Soul sampled
George Clinton's Parliament/Funkadelic
on Me, Myself & I, but Digital Under-
grounds entire album serves as a sampled
homage to that great Seventies funk band.
Best of a solid collection are Doowutchya-
like, a wild orgy of a dance record; A Hib-
ше to the Early Days, a clever use of a Jimi
Hendrix guitar riff as the basis of a rap
and The Humpty Dance, a brilliant, hil.
ous record used to inspire
ious dance.

Tashan is a star in the United Kingdom.
His self-titled first album received rave
reviews agland. On this side of the
water, Tashan is regarded as a promising.
but still minor soul singer. What the Bı
love are a rich baritone. funky grooves a
lyrics that call for а heightened Pan-
African consciousness. On the Horizon
(OBR) is full of uplifting message songs
such as Changes, Keep Movin’ On and Save
the Family. The record's centerpiece is the
epic Black Man, a lengthy meditation
on respect, racism and manhood in the
Nineties.

Black can also mean good fortune.

Ultimately theres Black.

STYLE

HATS OFF TO DICK TRACY

The headiest new trend in fashion this fall will be the hat. In-
spired by Walt Disney Pictures’ Dick Traci—that's the то
based on the comic strip, directed by and starring Warren Beat-
ty—designers from Armani to Valentino have jumped onto the
band wagon with an eye to this autumn, In fact, what's happen-
ing hatwise is 50 persuasive that every тап with a trench coat w
be craving headgear to match. Even Madonna, as gun moll
Breathless Mahoney, has the hots for hats. Do movies set the pace
for customers covering their pates? You

better believe they do. Armanis

hats for The Untouchables,
plus the wide-brimmed
models worn by India
Jones and “Croco

Dundee, were only

beginning. So this

watch for guys (as well
as women) sporting
banded wide-brims,
porkpies and, espe-
cially, fedoras—
ncluding the offi-
cial yellow model
shown here Бу
man Pacific that

Bollman for Dorf-
sells for $30. Beatty has the right Tracy profile
and is for certain the most visible case of a style sleuth's finding
out that the 1990 clue to fashion is, Heads, you win

EAT, DRINK AND BE MERRY

Tt used to be that even the most confirmed beer
drinker would order wine when dining in a
fancy restaurant. Now, in the very temples of
haute such as La Cote
Basque in New York,
we hear that men are
savoring their terrine
of foie gras, Bud in
hand. Speaking of suds,

“The bar

is now the

dining Eureka is the name of
Wolfgang Puck's new
room microbrewery/restaurant

in L.A. and he has devel-
oped a beer-cuisine menu

thats kind of a play on

foods that match wines.
More food for thought: In the past, eating at the
bar has been considered a single guys thing. No
more. The bar is now the dining room of choice.
And you eliminate the middleman when ordering
another round.

of choice.”

LES ec 5099 5

HOT SHOPPING

As shopping areas go. New York's Flatiron District is 5
hot. Here's whats up on Lower Fifth Avenue. Ala

Fifth): Where the
trendsetters set their

sighs on eyewear VIEWPOINT
Paul Smith (108 A ў

ОЧНИ AML What Kind of suit does 230-pound

world heavyweight boxing cham-
pion James “Buster”
Douglas wear? Any
kind he wants to.
“Before 1 became
champ, I'd see suits
and wonder how
much they cost. Now
I wonder how good
WI look in them."
Does Douglas have
a favorite suit? Not
really, but he's fond
of a brown one he
bought at a Salvi
Army store four years ago. “I add-
ed a blue-and-white-striped shirt,
polka-dot tie and tan shoes and
wore it last February at the HBO
rebroadcast of my title fight. My
friends said, ‘Man, that's a bad
suit.’ I paid ten dollars for it.”

tured elsewhere in
this issue) has а
store that resembles
a gentleman's haber-
lashery, but the duds
far from fuddy-
duddy Emporio Ar-
mani (HO Fifth):
Soap for $17 T-shirts
for $40. And those
are the bargains.
Daffvs (11 F
Racks overstuffed
with discounted. de-
signer menswear. Ot-
to Tootsi Plohound
Real men
may wear Tootsis, but
they probably wont
admit it. We hate the
name, but hip ad

execs love the
footwear that
ludes ncoclassic wing tips with thick Vibram
soles. Matsuda (156 Fifth): Showcase for a Japanese
designer known for his future-shock price tags.
¿With a striped schoolboy blazer at $740 and
$135 neckties, this place says a lot about the
state of our trade balance.

THE SCENT OF SUMMER
Summer is the perfect season to try a new
scent. Here is a trio we especially like. Tus-
сапу by Aramis, is a subtle blend of lemon,

an evocative m

id other desert plants, Arman
combination of sp

га! for evenings. And get a
whiff of this—the combination of warmer
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Round or roundish; matte black and dark
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MOVIES

By BRUCE WILLIAMSON

MEL сівѕоху celebrated buns play a major
role in Bird on с Wire (Universal) when a
bullet lodged in his bottom has to be re-
moved by a vel апап he used to know
intimately (the vet done to a T by Joan
Severance, Playboys January cover girl)

Teamed with Goldie Hawn, Gibson is a

man on the run, part of the witness-protec-

in а shady drug deal 15 years са
flees—with Goldie in tow—by car, motor-
суде and monoplane before they manage
to obliterate the killers (David Carradine
and Bill Duke) in an unlikely showdown at
the zoo. Both romantic leads are cute—
maybe too cute. Hawn—allegedly a lawyer
but mostly portraying a ditzy blonde in the
manner she must have patented by now—
screams a lot and vows she'll soon throw
up. Meanwhile, Bird (the title borrowed
from a Leonard Cohen lyric about free-
dom) garners intermittent laughs but ulti-
mately lays an egg. YY
.
Several corpses appea the opening
scenes of director John McNaughton's fea
Portrait of а

ving status
n by Mc-

1986 and гайда
cult classic. the movie, wr
Naughton (with co-author
was inspired by the actual depredations of
a psychopath named Henry Lee Lucas.
This Henry, played with deadpan menace
by Michael Rooker, shares a Chicago apart-
ment with a gas-station attendant. and
sometime drug dealer, Ous (Tom Towles).
As ill-met partners in crime, ing for
kicks, both actors—at one point chortling
over video tapes of a family slaughtered on
camera—make their roles seem to be per-
suasive arguments for capital punishmen
The plot sickens when Otis’ niece Bec
(Tracy Arnold) shows up in Chicago to
work fora better life, not yet aware that she
is destined to be raped and murdered. lı
may be argued that Henry, like a latter-d;
In Cold Blood, has no positive value except

as a warning that there are beast arge
in our society. Still, director McNaughton's
unnerving talent for such scare

tactics is never for a moment in doubt. УУУ
.

ithin-a-show

In the ci iematic shor
she

that

р comedienne Sandra
hard imitates Nina Simone and Di
in front of a mostly black night-club
audience. They stare at her, unamused.
Oddly enough. Bernhard's baaad impres-
sions are part of her aggressive style. When
she is not being outrageously funny, she
sings quite well, segues into spoofs of Laura
Nyro and others, or imagines she's a Cosmo
girl from Flint, Michigan, or an uptight
guy ha his first homosexual fling

Goldie, Mel cet the Bird.

Terminal cuteness,
unnerving true story
and Sandra on screen.

Some of her take-offs casually obscene
n director John Boskovich's hip version of
the one-woman show—a big success in
New York, Bernhard keeps reminding her
West Coast audience —that hi ast of
several dozen on film. Supporting singe:
nd performers be damned,
off beat evening with Sandra.
ed evening, if you're опе of the
who find her on target, disturbing and un-
predictable. Count me in. Doubters may
nply buy Bernhard's own wry assessment
of her amazing presence: “ИЗ sexual, irs
sensual . . . at times, its just downright
hard to believe." ¥¥¥
.

The French-C. lian Jesus of Montreal
(Orion Classics) is a superbly stylized cere-
bral drama by writer-director Denys Ar-
cand, his second Оф са film in
the bestforeign-language category (his
first was The Decline of the American Em-
pire, 1986). An altogether modern piece,
Jesus is both funny and disturbing, played
vibrantly as well as soulfully by Lothaire
Bluteau as an actor named Daniel who is
hired to be the nude, crucified Christ in an
outdoor Passion play. Daniel finds a sexy
model (Catherine Wilkening) for his М;
Magdalene, recruits another performer
who usually dubs pornographic movies
(Remy Girard is the portly, panting dub-
ber) and a worldly actress (Johanne- Marie
dy ) who has been sleeping with a
A better way of life more or less
s upon them after they begin staging
the Stations of the Cross, but the world isn’

ready either for uncommercial purity or
lor their updated look at Cl The
movie ends tragically, with Bluicau's Jesus
memorialized by organ transplants and a
theater bearing his name. There is lots of
incidental humor along the way, however,
highlighted when the cast members spon-
neously do snippets of the Passion play
in various acting styles—from kabuki and
Comédie Francaise to the Method. Атсапа 5
approach to film is simultaneously spiritu-
al, irreverent and inimitable, There's noth-
ing on the screen quite like it. vv
.

Ап оп who has never known true
love (handsome Antonio Banderas) kid-
naps a former porn actress (Victoria Abril)
he has been dreaming about in jail. Her
name is Marina. And as played by the
spontaneously sexy Abril in Tie Me Up! Tie
Me Down! (Miramax), she's also a reformed
junkie, trying to make semistraight movies
until her obsessed secret admirer єз
her, batters her and trusses her up. Worse
yet, he vows to keep her that way until she
agrees to marry him and bear his children.
This tough love cvidently works in Spanish
writer-director Pedro Almodovar’ bright,
comic slug fest, which is either a blatant in-
sult to women or just what it pretends to
be—a sophisticated baule of the sexes by
the man who made Women on the Verge of a
Nervous Breakdown. Since his bouncy pre-
vious work won an Oscar nomination in
1989 as best foreign-language film, lets
give Almodóvar a break. Tie Me Up! is
less balanced but has the same liberated
screwball appeal and a surprising streak of
nderness. ¥¥¥

British actor Gary
dandy Deep So
Korean War hero

Oldman, with a
plays a berserk
Chattahoochee (Hem-
dale) After randomly shooting up the
Florida neighborhood where he lives, he's
sent to a mental institution where he meets
nother frustrated. inmate, colorfully
played by Dennis Hopper. Based on a true
story and set in the Filties, this hellish saga
of reform and redemption is saved by its
ic humor as well as splendid acting
throughout. Frances McDormand exudes
mple wife, who
ses to fooling around in his long ab-
Pamela Reed plays the stubbornly
мег who ultimately gets him freed.
Harrowing stuff behind bars, but sheer tal-
ent makes it more than watchable. vy
.

Directed in his own language by
France's Louis Malle (who also made At-
lantic City), May Fools (Orion Classics) is an
engaging social comedy about some well-
heeled French aristocrats. The time is May
1968, when the volatile student revolution,
s happens to coincide with the death
rchal grande dame. Out in the
provinces, the surviving gentry, driven by

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PLAY

greed and sex and sibling rivalry, count
amily silver and squabble over what
herit while Paris burns. Alarmed,

Making his Marks.

OFF CAMERA

What does a film editor do, exact-
ly? We asked Richard Marks, 46, who
has spliced togetber such hits as
Apocalypse Now, Terms of Endear-
ment and Broadcast News, each earn-
ing him Oscar nominations for best
editing ("Always a bridesmaid,” he
cracked ruefully). “Historically,” he
explained, “an editor sat in the cut-
ting room, pulled the pieces of film
together and tried to make sense of
it.” But things have changed. Нау-
ing been working on Warren Beat-
's new Dick Tracy for more than a
year when we spoke to him, Marks
acknowledged that he was "onc
tired man. Today, an editor is more
involved with the actual making of
the film. on the set every day, as-
sembling footage as it's shot, and I
may say, ‘I think wed better get a
close-up here. Beatty and 1 work
very closely; it’s a collaborative ef-
fort.”

A City College of New York lit ma-
jor who never expected to wind up
in the movies, Marks recalls “run-
ning film cans around the city” after
starting out as а labor organizer.
“You know the Sixties. I studiously
avoided doing anything that would
carn mea living.” He started cutting
trailers, landed a job as second
assistant editor on Francis Ford Cop-
polas The Rain People and was
finally promoted to assist legendary
editor Dede Allen, working with her
оп such films аз Alice’s Restaurant
and Little Big Man. Markss friends
are mostly film makers
ble when you're locked in a

k room with someone for
ng stretches. It’s like a mar-
nd if ad marriage, you
find out pretty soon." Does he eve
plan to direct movies himsel
Marks admits, "Thats a desire Гус
been toying with a lot. I spend a lo
of time, after all, loo
people's

they take to the hills overnight, half ex-
pecting armed protesters to appear, mean-
while ordering a poor old peasant to
shovel a makeshift grave on their property
because the local gravediggers are on a

sympatby strike. In a sercenplay he co-
authored with Jean-Claude Carriere,
Malle steers Michel Piccoli, Мои

gether sophisticated spoof of upp
idiocy. Fools makes snobbism look chic but
silly. While retaining his ingrained toler-
ance for the privileged few (Malle himself
comes from pedigreed stock), the sharp
ironies of his have-got class facing the
specter of a new French revolution are
tipped with vitriol. yyw

Only а weird combination of talents
could bring forth a fable as farfetched as
The Witches (Warner). Directed by Nicolas
Roeg, this adaptation of a novel by Roald
Dahl (Allan Scott wrote the screenplay)
ppcal to children possessed by dark

Average kids may not go for it, but
Anjelica Huston did. She has the time of
her life enter gly camping the role of
the bitchy top witch, who also heads the

Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty
to Children. She's officiating at а conven-
tion in an English resort hotel, where her

real job is to transform children into tiny

rhe mice can talk (here, the Бер of
n Henson's Creature Shop is
luable). An orphaned boy ( Jasen Fish-
er of Chicago), on holiday with his grand-
mother (Mai Zetterling) and the witches’
chief victim, is second only to Huston at
squeezing wicked laughs from an unlikely,
inventive tale. 99%

An incriminating datebook that might
reveal the identity of a murderer is the clue
thats supposed to propel In the Spirit
le Hill). Forget it. As sheer suspense,
this eccentric comedy is a mess, with too
much narration and a patchwork plot. Asa
star vehicle, however, it boasts some sharp.
turns by Elaine May and Peter Falk as a
couple relocating in New York and by M
lo Thomas as the health-food freak deco-
rating their new co-op, plus brief but
able roles for Olympia Dukakis, Melanie
Griffith and May's fe daughter, Jean-
nie Berlin. Co-author (with Laurie Jones)
of the snappy but uneven screenplay di-
rected by Sandra Seacat (best known as an
acting coach to the star:
some of the best lines as a neighbo:
hooker whose exploits make

Berlin corners
ng

Thomas.
ally dis-
nces in porn films (71
but 1 never swallowed any-
hes about her latest
t answer his questions,
he handcuffs me to the radiator"). She is
nourned afier she disappears from ше
novie in a suspicious accident. The second
half doesnt quite make it. By that time,
however, In the Spirit has its audience in a
genial, forgiving mood. vv

thing") or
boyfriend (“If I do

MOVIE SCORE CARD

capsule close-ups of current films
by bruce williamson

on a Wire (Sce review) Cibson as
fair game, Goldie Hawn bis f
Chattahoochee (Scc review) I
lum with Gary Oldman and
Hopper.

The Cock, the Thief, His Wife 8. Her Lover
far-

(Reviewed 4/90)
out characters
out.

Cry-Baby (6/90) Fifties fun a
with Johnny Depp, by
Waters. Wh
The Handmaid's Tale (5/90) Making ba-
bies by Margaret Atwood's book, with
Natasha Richardson as the
breeder.

Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer (Sce re-
view) Ghoulish, good and gripping. ¥¥¥
The Icicle Thief (5/90) An Italian-style
media spoof with plenty of spice. ¥¥¥
1 Love You to Death (Listed only) Kevin
Kline on Tracey Ullman's hit list. ұу
Impulse (6/90) Theresa Russell as a vic
cop—that's all you need to know. 9%
In the Spirit (Sec review) Quite a cast ma-
ializing to save the day wh
Jesus of Montreal (See review) An actor
on a religious trip, Canad:
Last Exit to Brooklyn (6/90) Dim, grim
look back at that other borough. ww!
Longtime Companion (6/90) AIDS dram-
atized with flair and feeling. ww
May Fools (Sec review) The revolution
almost comes to provincial France. ¥¥¥
Miami Blues (5/90) A crime spree, with
Alec Baldwin strutting his stuff vv
Monsieur Hire (6/90) Simenon suspense
finely wrought French accent. ¥¥¥
Mountains of the Moon (3/90) Excitement
out of Africa, searching for the Nile
with a long-gone safari ww
Nuns on the Run (6/90) Habit-lorming
foolery with Idle and Coltrane. vu
Q & A (Listed only) More bad cops un-
der director Lumet's microscope. ¥¥¥%
A Shock to the System (6/90) Michael
Caine supplies most of the jolt.
Strapless (5/90) Oh, men, oh, wom
and beuer-than-OK Blair Brown. ¥¥¥
Tie Me Up! Tie Me Down! (See review) An
ex-con captures а dame in Spain. ¥¥¥
To Protect Mother Earth (6/90) Redford
goes to bat for an Indian tribe. we

Some very
ing and fr

vuv
wh

Wild Orchid (6/90) E
The Witches (Sec review) Anjelica Hus-
ton working her droll dark magic. ми
Without You I'm Nothing (Scc review) But

əs in Rio.

Bernhard is someth

g else. vu

WWW Outstanding
Уууу Don't miss ¥¥ Worth a look
ууу Good show

HOW TO THROW
A MAJOR LEAGUE
FASTBALL. SLIDER. FORKBALL.

=
—

Canadian 6 Z `
mu € BUE 5 7 ин Y ME HES ESD IN LA LANDS

AQ*ialc vol Blended Canadan Whisky: Importedin Bot by HramWalker ard Sons ис Farmington ils MC 1990

VIDEO

One might guess that an

anchor man would be

too jaded by gritty real-

ity to take any escapist

pleasure from the VER.

Not so with CNN's

Bernard Shaw. A flick

buff since childhood,

Shaw rents “two movies

a week on average. My

favorite genres are ad-

venture and World War Two movies, such as The

Dirty Doren, Bridge on the River Kwai, Tora!

Tora! Tora! and particularly The Caine Mutiny

with Bogey | like these sorts of movies for their

portrayal of guts, survival, determination and

for the historical informal in fact, the

film makers get their history right.” Shaw says

his wife “tolerates” these vid passions, adding

that their mutual faves include Babette’ Feast,

‘Someone to Watch over Me and House of Games.

One movie you won't find in the Shaw video li-

brary is Broadcast News. “| was more upset than

entertained. Maybe things are that way at local

stations, but there are ло idiots working at any
of the major networks.” So there.

Una resta

VIDEOLDIES
antique gold for the vcr

This month: the perfect Independence
Day matinee:

The Color Adventures of Superman: The
“Man of Steel” (who, by the way, was raised
inan orphanage and not on the Kent farm)
fights a never-ending battle against an
sortment of bad guys, from Nazis to ти!
mies. The grainy, shadowy cartoons are a
strain on the eye and less entertaining
than the real-life incarnations that fol-
lowed. B-minus.

Why We Fight #7: War Comes to America: The
last of Frank Capra's home-grown, feel-
good propaganda films, circa 1944, set to
the all-American strains of Gershwin's
Rhapsody in Blue. Best sequence: footage
of Nazi occupation of France chillingly
juxtaposed against The Last Time 1 Saw
Paris. Brilliant.

Junior G-Men: The Dead End Kids star i
this Universal serial as neighborhood
guys who help crack an evil plot to over-
throw the Government. Lots of bombs,
fires and fistfights. Leading Dead End Kid
Billy Halop is a Dead End ringer for a
young Al Pacino. Celebrity lookout: a girl-
ish Donna Reed in a late-episode cameo.
Our Town: The big-screen version of
Thornton Wilder's Pulitzer Prize-winning
play A fresh-faced William Holden leads
an all-star cast in this look at turn-of-the-
century small-town America. Celebrating
the simplicity of joy and sorrow, life and

death, film unfortunately misses stage
play's emotional mark near the end. But we
hardly notice.

(All tapes available from Video Yesteryear
Box C, Sandy Hook, Connecticut 0648:
send $2.50 for catalog) — bAN CURRY

VIDEOSYNCRASIES

Basic Real Estate Investing with Chuck
Baker, Vol. 1: Real-estate maven Baker
makes no promises of overnight millions
but gives sound advice on getting viable in-
vestment returns and watching out for huc!
sters bearing fine print (Summit Media).
Learn the Essentials of Piano with Talc
Tolchin, Vol. 1: Tolchin knows his stuff,
but if youre looking to pick out a few
Stones tunes on your Casio, this compre-
hensive method wont give no satisfaction.
Aimed at the seriously committed (Forte
Productions).

Mandela: The Man and His Country: A
comprehensive vid bio of the torchbearer
of South Africas anti-apartheid move-
ment. Tape includes scenes of Mandela's
release, as well as interviews with Jesse
Jackson and James Michener (МР1).

VIDEO SLEEPERS
good movies that crept out of town

Not all sleepers are fine, forgotten oldies.
Recent worthwhile releases have also been
lost in the shuffle.

Breaking In: Scotland's Bill Forsyth directs
а prematurely aged Burt Reynolds in a
low-key caper as a seasoned burglar, with
Casey Siemaszko as his apprentice.

Heavy Petting: Among other things, this
diverting docucomedy gets famous people
to talk about their first encounters with

S-E-X back in the droll, innocent Fifties.
The Package: A high-level political a:
nation gets Gene Hackman entangled
taut, timely thriller.

Romero: The murder of El Salvador's arch-
bishop, vividly re-created by Raul Julia,
whose performance deserves notice.

— BRUCE WIL

THE HARDWARE CORNER

Dual Deck: Not sure about the VHS-C
camcorders? Don't like the idea of putt
you

ng
tape in an adapter to play on your
? Rest easy. JVC has a VHS/VHS-C
VCR on the way. Its multiformation load-
ing tray simply slides out to accept either
format. No adapter, no fuss.

That Was WJM, Right: If you can't re-
member channel numbers, there's decent
news from the how-lazy-can-you-get? de-
partment. Yamaha now hasa 32-inch mon-
itor (YM-3208) that allows you to select a
station by either its numbers or its call let-
ters. Neat, huh? — MAURY LEVY

VT TAKES

Tackiest Porn Tape of the Month: The Best of
Interracial Anal (two hours); Best Video Baby
Book: Puppy's First Year; Favorite Video Hero:
Wood Stork: Barometer of the Everglades;
Kinkiest-Sounding Sports Video: Pumping Rub-
ber with David Essel; Second-Kinkiest-Sound-
ing Sports Video: Joe Beaver Roping Clinic;
Best ТЕ inute Video: Haircutting at
Home. Best It's-a-Living Video: Framing
Needlework, Vol. 3.

FEELING PATERNAL

Dod (incorrigible Jack Lemmon jerks son Ted Danscris
tears); The Music Box (Jessica Longe defends her pop, oc-
cused of war crimes); Fet Mon and Little Boy (Paul Newmon

апа Dwight Schultz fight over fathering the bamb).

FEELING PENSIVE

Dead Poets Society (bays’ school teacher-ta-die-far Rabin
Williams inspires teens іо think); My Left Foot (Oscar-
winning Daniel Day-Lewis tum os polsy-offlicted Irish
artist Christy Brown); Crimes and Misdemeanors (Woody Al-
len explores murder, back stabbing and infidelity).

Carnival of Souls (low-budget 1962 ha

FEELING SPOOKY

flicks to come, recently restared); The Twilight Zone (newly
collected episodes from the boob-tube classic, priced ta
sell); Leatherface: Texas Chainsaw Massacre Ш (the masked
moron in his sala bloadletting debut. Yipes).

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DUEL OF THE
DOWNTOWN MAGAZINES
Malcolm Forbes's life had
taken an odd turn. The idiosyneratic pub-
lisher had shed his wife and become an
enthusiastic habitué of the New York club.
scene, showing up his motorcy-
cle leathers, helmet nd, and chatting
it up with androgynous Euro-trash guys
who wore tight pants and had pierced ears.
Tt wasn't a typical lifestyle for a wealthy 70-
year-old man, and, apparently; Forbes felt a
bit lost. One night, a certain club would be
packed; the next, the same place would be
empty. At one club, everyone would wear
black; at another, you'd see colors. Forbes
didn’t like this trial-and-error method of
research, He wanted some sort of ear
warning system, a magazine that would
tell him what was hip and happening be-
fore he left the mansion. So he invented
опе

Called Egg, it made its entrance shortly
before Forbes himself made his exit. “If
youre into the fun of being alive," he
wrote in the first issue, "the fourth dimen-
sion is in knowing who's going to be on first
before they get there, where its going to be
at before it is, and whats going to happen
before it does.” Egg was to be a magazine
for all those "Night Funners"—yes, that's
what Forbes called them—in search of
hipness.

Something weird has happened down-
town when a 70-year-old man can use the
term Night Funners and get away with
Downtown—the state of mind, not nece:
sarily the place—is supposed to be cutting
edge, the home of the avant-garde in fash-
jon, music, sex. It has given us Sid Vicious.
beatniks, bo: svestiles and women
who have sex on stage with yams. Now, in-
stead, were getting grandfatherly puns.
Forbes, who had become something of a
downtown celebrity, died of natural causes,
and that tells us something. Downtown, no
one dies of natural causes.

Of course, Forbes wasn’t the first to try
10 co-opt downtown and turn it into a
mainstream side show. There were already
several downtown magazines in existence
in a number of cities such as New York,
with Interview and Details, and Chicago,
which has Metro and Neon. Los Angeles
has a downtown magazine—L.A. Style—
without actually having a downtow

BEFORE ME DIED,

Andy Warhol started the trend in
with Interview,

the elder statesm: of
He created it largely 10
s screenings but had
enough savvy to recognize that downtow
was a lot like high school. Both had a social
structure based on the existence of
crowd. Interview didn't have to be a good
gazine to succeed: all that was impor
tant was for the right people to recognize
themselves and their friends.

The fe aple. One Warhol

mat was

Required reading for "Night Funners:

Can hipness survive
ihe attempt
to report it?

crony would take another out to lunch.
Theyd let the tape recorder run while
they chatted and then Interview would
publish a transcript of the conversation. И
wasnt an interview, really —no one was
asking a question in order to get informa-
ion— but combined with an arty photo of
the subject and New Wave design, the re-
sult was an irresistible package.

Once a magazine gets the imprimatur of
the downtown "in" crowd (or the high
school "in" crowd, depending on the target
audience), the rest is easy. Interview can
cover the same territory as Family Circle—
big, splashy profiles of Carol Burnett, for
instance—and still seem on top of it.

Not that the downtowners dont occa-
sionally try some real journalism. £
Style had one of its editors in China work-
пр on a travel piece on the eve of the
Tiananmen Square massacre. "When the
repression came down, we had some ser
ous discussions about what to do with the
yanı travel feature he had planned to
fessed the editor in chief. Ap-
parently, the editors opted for а hybi
story, which opens with a remembrance of
the writers fifth-grade art project—a trav-
cl poster of China—and then launches
into dry list of complaints: the flight
from Hong Kong to Beijing, his traveling
companions, the airport, the hotel, сте
the drinking water (he was forced to brush
his teeth with Evian). Witnessing the
demonstrations that led up to the massacre
did move the writer to loftier rumination.
“Even the more jaded among us,” he wrote,

“those who know that Western democracy
comes equipped with galling problems of
its own, believed that these good and kind
people would be beuer off under a more
lerant regime.” For a downtown journal.
najor accomplis и. Readers
leuers calling the piece “literatu
and Interview promptly hired the writer
away to be one of its editors in New York.
Even a coast apart, the downtown crowd
knows one of its own

Within the industry, Spy is considered a
downtown magazine, perhaps because it
has a trendy readership or perhaps be-
its design makes it difficult to read
Almost all downtown magazines have
visually stunning but
it can take longer to de-
code an Interview headline, for instance,
than to read the story beneath it.) It’s a sad
case of guilt by association. Spy at least
tries to be a good magazine, full of spirited
reporting and ornery humor. Other down-
town publications have their own offbeat
charm. Most publish art and cultural news
that you can't get elsewhere. Egg and L.A.
Style publish great gossip. And there's a lot
to be said for secing fashions that look as
though they had popped out of a Jim
musch movie. But as downtown becomes
more and morc accessible to regular рео-
ple—those folks who used to be satisfied
with going to dinner and a movie—will the
magazines become more accessible as well?
Maybe even suburban?

The answer is, probably Already, the
plug has been pulled on Details, which has
fired its editor and is being transformed
into a mens magazine, competition, says
Inside Media, for Esquire and Playboy

There are other signs as well. The au-
gust New York Times Company is testing
the downtown waters with its own special
publication, tentatively titled Block. Rupert
Murdoch, who owns TV Guide, has a
magazine called Eyewitness on the drawing
board and another publisher is rushing
The Edge out to fill the Details void. A meri
xpress Publishing has bought LA.

“This downtown sı
ys news,” snilled one ad exec.
s the problem with hipness, of
course, It can become unhip very quickly,
especially when big business gets involved
One minute, уоште the toast of the pub-
ishing world, the next, you're the journal-
istic equivalent of the Village People.
Whats next? How about a sitcom? We
П it The Night Funners and cast
Alan Thicke as a club owner and single
dad. Maybe Suzanne Pleshette could pla
the lonely performance artist who loves
him. lis too bad Malcolm Forbes won't be
around. Нед do a great guest shot as the
wacky uncle who roars in on his motorcycle
and takes his nephew shopping for feather
boa: —STEPHEN RANDALL

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By DIGBY DIEHL

THREE YEARS AGO, Scott Turow novel, Pre-
sumed Innocent, was hailed as a triumph. It
spent 44 weeks on the bestseller list and
will soon reappear in a movie version star-
ring Harrison Ford. That kind of initial
success, as Scott Fitzgerald once noted, can
ruin a writer. But in his second fiction out-
ing, The Burden of Proof (Farrar, Straus $e
Giroux), Turow consciously stays with what
he does best and triumphs again.

Sandy Stern, the brilliant attorney who
defended Rusty Sabich in Presumed Inno-
cent, returns from a trip one afternoon to
discover that his wife of 31 years has inex-
plicably committed suicide. This tragedy
calls into question his marriage, his rela-
tionship to his family, his patterns of be-
havior for 56 years. As a tough-minded,
alytical lawyer, Stern begins to tear his
life apart, shred by shred, searching for
clues to explain his wifes death. It is this
process of passionate scrutiny that drives
the novel, drawing the reader in and build-
ing suspense right up to a satisfying de-
nouement.

‘This book bristles with intelligence, and
it is obvious that Turow loves complicated
intellectual puzzles as much as his protag-
onist does. One aspect of the story involves
an arcane form of insider stock trading
that takes Stern into ‘Lhe Chicago Mer-
cantile Exchange for a short course in
commodities futures. The questions of
client/attorney privilege that emerge as
Stern maneuvers to keep himself and his
brother-in-law the financial wizard out of
jail become so knotty that even a sage and
savvy judge struggles to sort out the issues.
And as Turow peels away the psychological
layers of friendship, family secrets, bu:
ness motives and sexual entanglements
from each of his characters, the reader is
awed by their diversity and complexity.

Which, of course, is Tarow's point. All of
this personal history and analytical prob-
ing might bc merely a cold exercise for the
legal mind if we did not empathize with
these characters as mirrors of our own
lives. Turow takes us bencath the appea

inces of everyday life and the gamesman-
ship of the legal system to experience a
truth that can only be imparted in fiction.
True to its title, The Burden of Proof argues
eloquently that authentic evidence of hu-
man understanding can be entertaining,
moving and burdensome, indeed

The lighter side of crime is explored by
Joseph Wambaugh in The Golden Orange
(Morrow) and by Donald E. Westlake in
Drowned Hopes (Mysterious). Wambaugh’s
arious eighth novel begins with a
unken ex-cop named Winnie Farlowe
commandeering the Balboa Island ferry-
boat and plowing it into the middle of the
Newport Harbor Christmas Boat Parade.
This turns out to be more fun for Winnie

Passionate scrutiny: The Burden of Proof.

Scott Turow triumphs again;
the lighter side of crime
from Wambaugh and Westlake.

than diving into the shark pool of Orange
County Gold Coast millionaires to help a
lusty divorcee find a murderer. Along the
way, the character invents a new drink,
The Golden Orange Cocktail (two dou
ble shots of Absolut citron, a splash of
Cointreau and orange juice, with a twist),
that should be right up there with
Wambaugh's invention of The Black Mar-
ble (the drink). This is Wambaugh in top
fictional form: as funny as The Choirboys
and as poignant as The Secrets of Harry
Bright.

Westlake's John Dortmunder, the bur-
glar king of the bungled caper, who previ-
ously stumbled through such classic crime
comedies as Bank Shot and The Hot Rock,
brings his inept touch to Drowned Hopes.
An old cellmate of Dortmunders has
stashed $700,000 in a coffin that he buried
in a small town in Upstate New York; while
he was doing time, the town was flooded to
make a reservoir. So now his stolen money
is under 50 feet of water and Dortmunder
has to figure out how to get it. In addition

to some of the usual suspects, Dortmunder
is joined by a computer nerd whose com-

puter thinks this escapade is the best elec-
tronic game ever. Westlake doesn't miss a
comic beat or a funny line in this fast-
paced adventure.

Two new Hollywood biographies—Jene
Fonda: An Intimete Biography (Dutton), by
Bill Davidson, and Clown Prince of Holly-
wood: The Antic Life and Times of Jack L.
Warner (McGraw-Hill), by Bob Thomas
deserve special attention this month. Коп-

da has moved in such a swirl of controversy
for most of her life that it is refreshing to
read such a fair-minded, well-balanced as-
sessment of her life and career. Davidson
had remarkable sourecs for this unauthor-
ized biography, and he never allows his ap-
preciation for Jane the actress to blur his
vision of Jane the complicated and fallible
woman. Jack Warner worked in movies
from the days of the nickelodeon right up
through the modern era of the studio
over (he sold out 10 Seven Arts Produc-
tions in 1966). The last of the moguls
reigned for 45 years as a studio head and

oversaw the making of films such as The
Jazz Singer, Casablanca, My Fair Lady and

Whos Afraid of Virginia Woolf? This ст
cal biography is an insightful analy
both the man and his legacy.
Тот Wolfe, take note: Someone has been
stening to you advise novelists to become
contemporary Thackerays. Gloria Nagy’s A
House in the Homptons (Delacorte) captures
the glitzy New York summer beach scene
with unrelenting journalistic accuracy.
Theres major B.P name-dropping and
many identifiable types hopping in and
out of bed, but what Nagy with an
anthropologists zeal, has captured so
lucidly are New York fantasies, New Yorl
neuroses and New York melodrama. This
is a mostly funny. ча mes touching,
staggeringly honest book about a special
piece of the American dream

Finally, don't miss a sensational first nov-
el about Hollywood in the Forties, Diane
K. Shah's As Crime Goes Ву (Bantam). Paris
Chandler, a wealthy widow who writes
items for the Los Angeles Examiner gossip
columnist, stumbles onto information
about a murder. With an intriguing combi
nation of ingenuous enthusiasm and in-
stinctive tenacity, Paris and her chauffeur
chase around the mean streets of L.A. pur-
suing the Killer. Shah has done her histori-
cal homework, and this novel is rich in
descriptions of the posh, decadent auncs-
phere of Romanoff's and Ciro's their
heydays, as well as the music, fashions and
radio shows of the era. But the best part of
this book, as in all the best Forties novels, is
its impeccable, character-revealing dialog.
Its a first-class read.

BOOK BAG

Comics as Culture (University Press of
Mississippi), by M. Thomas Inge: A great
compendium of the art and history of the
comics. Anyone who has ever зешей in
with the Sunday funnies will enjoy this
book a look at how we've all been
influenced by the likes of Andy Gump.

Holy Horrors (Prometheus), by James A
Haught: The author, a 1989 winner of a
Hugh M. Hefner First Amendment Award
5 m, has neatly packed
centuries of religious madness into one
finely crafted, all too true horror story

SPORTS

I me for the annual report on why
men buy clothes that make them
look silly. This has little to do with sports,
except that elastic briefs for all the wrong
people are available in our beachwear de-
partment, third floor.

First, some statistics.

My survey shows that 82.5 percent of all
elastic briefs are worn by bald-headed fat
men, skinny guys vith paste-white skin or
guys with more body hair than a buffalo,
and that doesn't count anybody who goes
swimming in the Bosporus.

It goes without saying that Arnold
Schwarzenegger is the only person who
should be allowed to wear elastic briefs,
provided he never leaves his own sauna.

The survey also shows that 56.3 percent
of the men who go to the Bosporus are
there to shoot people and wear business
suits the color of a 1947 Chevrolet.

This same suit is often worn by TV an-
chor men in our country. A TV anchor
man has to look reliable, dependable and
trustworthy, and experience has taught
him that nothing looks more reliable, de-
pendable or trustworthy than a medium-
blue or medium-brown suit that matches
the color of a 1947 Chevrolet.

No TV anchor man has ever been seen
on theair in a Miami Vice jacket or, for that
matter, with a ring in his ear. A TV anchor
man who looked like that couldn't tell you
the name of a single hurricane or make it
sound credible.

All in all, its best if a TV anchor man
wears a Chevrolet suit, a quietly patterned
tie and a cheap shirt with a straight collar.
‘Two things are accomplished by this look.
One, he instantly comes across as Mr. Aver-
age Guy, and two, viewers are secure in the
Knowledge that even though he looks like
one of them, it’s physically impossible for
him to jump out of the TV set and sell
them an insurance policy

Its interesting to look at where the
Miami Vice look has gone, especially since
Miami is said to offer more vice than ever.

My survey shows that a large part of it
has gone back to anorexic women, where
most styles come from in the first place,
and that the rest of it has gone to your
teenage son, who wont be home till day-
light and may have totaled те Mercedes.

I confess to being nostalgic for the khaki
look, which some people called radical
chi

We knew where we stood back then. The
man in the khaki safari jacket was going to
do only one of four things: direct a movie,

By DAN JENKINS

DUDES AND
DUDS

take your picture fora magazine, roll you а
joint, blow up a bank.

That was early on. Later, piercing eyes
and a short beard sometimes went along
with the khaki look. For instance, if you
saw an intense guy sitting alone in a bar in
jacket and soothing his
forehead with a cold can of beer, it told you
he was a Vietnam vet who had seen t00
much, or it told you he was trying to look
like a Vietnam vet who had scen too much
in order to pick up girls, or it told you he
had been to the march on Selma, or it told
you he was suffering from writer's block
and his novel that would blow the lid off
the textbook industry was overdue.

You may ask whereall of the faded Lev
jackets have gone. My survey shows that
most of them died in the bonfire of the
Guccis.

There was a time when a faded Levi's
Jacket on a man was a clear indication that
he had been collecting Willie Nelson al-
bums much longer than anyone he knew,
and that, moreover, he could recite almost
every lyric Kris Kristofferson had ever
written.

As for the Gucci loafer, it undoubtedly
took more prisoners than any shoe ever
troduced to the middle class.

For several years, it was impossible to
buy a loafer of any brand that didn't have
more brass on it than a carriage lamp.

Originally meant to be worn casually

with slacks, double-breasted blazer, open
collar and a French movie actress on your
rm, Gucci loafers went downhill when so
many Midwesterners foolishly began wear-
ing them with business suits, which only
made people stare at them and say, “Oh, I
get it—you're not a totally dull person.”

A segment of the male population be-
longs to a group that can only be called
The Gathered Sleeve Brigade.

By and large, these are men who wear
golf shirts or tennis shirts that their wives
must have bought for them, because no
man of any taste would knowingly buy a
knit shirt that had a skimpy little lay-down
collar and sleeves that gathered some-
where around the biceps.

“The only man who wears this kind of
shirt intentionally, according to the survey,
is someone who went to a prep school until
his daddy was indicted and could no
longer afford the tuition.

Which brings up sweaters.

A sweater can now and then be seen
draped around the shoulders of a man in a
knit shirt with gathered sleeves. This is a
fashion statement that's supposed to mean
“L went to Princeton,” but more often it
means “I married money and I'm not very
interesting.”

Before this survey, the crew-neck sweat-
er was a mystery to me, frankly. | would
ask myself why a sweater should be so pop-
ular if it covered up the collar, or the collar
and the tie, but didn't cover up the neck.

Of course, | knew it was a proven fact
that a man in a crew-neck sweater general-
ly made a larger salary and had a shorter
arrest record than a man in lace-up con-
struction boots, grimy jeans, keys on his
belt and a sweat shirt that said, WHAT ARE
YOU LOOKING AT, DICK NOSE? But what | hadn't
realized was that the crew-neck sweater is
supposed to make the C.E.O. look young-
er, even if he has hair as white as fax paper.

They don't fool me. 1 see some gray-
haired, bent-over guy in а crew-neck
sweater and I know he’s only trying to look
snappy in an effort to make out with the
girl who drives the beverage cart at the
country dub.

I'm ready for a return of the old loose-
fitting button-up cardigan. It was stylish
the Fiftics. You could look like Ben Hogan.
But it would make an even more useful
statement today, which is:

“I'm too sick to dance and I can't afford a

mistress."

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MEN

his is one of those questions that we

are going to have to answer, because
the feminization of the American military
is proceeding apace. The Service acade-
mies are sexually integrated, the Armed
Forces now permit women to occupy most
military billets and equal opportunity for
women seems close to a reality in what
used to be a masculine profession.

There still is, however, one sexually seg-
regated area: Those jobs described as
front-line combat assignments go only 10
men. So the question occurs, Now that
women are partners in everything else in
the military, is it unfair to deny them this
chance to serve their country?

Some quick responses to that question,
and then a discussion: (1) Yes, theoreti
it is unfair to deny women combat assign-
ments; (2) it is also unfair 10 require only
men to register for the draft; (3) the last
ime I checked, the concept of fairness was
not really central to the way a military ma-
chine was most effectively organized; (4)
the question Are women fit for combat? is
only half the question and, for men, the
lesser in importance. For us, the real ques-
tion is, Are men ready to go into combat
with women as their commanders, peers
and subordinates? That's the biggie.

First, I think we all have to acknowledge
that it is patently unfair to deny women
any and all opportunities for advancement
in the military that men receive. Especially
in the Armed Forces. combat duty is the
way to the top (or at least to the semitop:
believeit or not, in addition to combat duty,
to reach the top of the military profession,
you'd better be a bureaucrat, politician
and operator. Blood, guts and bluntness
may get you to the leyel of a field-grade
officer, but generals and admirals are
made of shrewder stuff, and warriors who
are good in the field but inept in the office
are usually passed over for the highest
promotions). So let's admit it: In terms of
fairness, openness, democracy and equal
opportunity, women deserve access to ev-
ery military billet, bar none.

But as those of us who have been there
and back will ask, Who said the m
structure in this culture is fair, open and
democratic? By definition, the system is
unfair to men, because only men are uni-
versally required (under penalty of fine
and imprisonment) to register with the Se-
lective Service System at the age of 18 (and
to serve if called). Inequity toward men
abounds in the military maze, from the
dictates of the draft laws to the dictator-

By ASA BABER

ARE WOMEN FIT
FOR COMBAT?

ship of the drill instructors to the random-
ness of death and injury in both peacetime
and war. Fairness? Who ever mentioned
fairness to me as | humped and grunted
for three-plus years in the Marine Corps?
Are women fit for combat duty? It de-
pends on whom you ask. Brian Mitchell, a
former Infantry officer in the Army (and a
man who earned both the Ranger tab and
senior-parachutist wings), thinks not. In
book Weak Link, Mitchell cites the Serv-
ice's own studies that suggest women are
less capable than men in their military ca-
reers. “They sufler higher rates of attrition
and lower rates of retention. They miss
more than twice as much dutytime for
medical reasons. They are four times mor
likely to complain of spurious physical ail-
ments. When men and women are sub-
jected to equally demanding physical
regimens, the injury rates of women can
be as high as 14 times that of men.”
Mitchell goes on to list psychological dif-
ferences that he says make women less ef-
fective members of the militar Ш
women are less aggressive, less daring, less
ly to suppress minor personal hurts,
less aware of world affairs, less interested.
itary history, less respectful of mili-
tary tradition and less inclined to make the
military a career.” For him, women clearly
e not fit for combat
I think differently. { happen to know
women—coolheaded, in great physical

shape, aggressive, intelligent, capable—
who I think would make excellent combat-
ants in the field. I see no reason why they
would not be outstanding members of
their profession while under fire and in the
trenches. No, as women move into equal
status throughout this culture, I firmly be-
lieve that there will be (and that there are
today) qualified females who are fit for
combat du

But the major question for men is, Are
they ready to serve with women in combat?
Yes, it may be unfair to lock women out of
certain jobs, but is it still necessary? Or, put
another way, Will the presence of women
in combat units causc men to take unnec-
essary risks to protect them? Is the concept
of chivalry and gallantry still very much
alive in the male consciousness, and will
men act diflerendy in Баш
fighting alongside them? Will the presence
of women, in other words, cost male lives?
I believe the answer to that question is yes.
And that presents one hell of a problem.

Of the history of women in the Israeli
military, Mitchell writes, “In 1948, a hand-
ful of women did see combat with the
Haganas fighting arm, the Palmach, but
their presence resulted in both sides suf-
ing higher casualties. Israeli men risked
their lives and missions to protect their
wore! - The women were withdrawn
after three weeks. . . . Today, the Israelis
use women far more conservatively than
most NATO nations.”

There it is. Much as I hate to admit it, as
aman, І am psychologically conditioned to
seeing men die in combat. Genetically, sub-
consciously, most men can tolerate the loss-
es of war if they have to. We do our jobs, we
fight the good fight, and while somewhere
deep in our hearts we mourn the deaths of
our compatriots, we shut that mourning
away until it is safe to display it. True, it
haunts many of us for the rest of our lives.
But the military job gets done. Add women
to that dreadful mix of combat mud, gore
and gristle, and 1 fear that the male ге-
sponse to the female presence will be self-
sacrificial. In saving women's lives at all
costs, we will lose more of our own.

The lives of men are viewed cheaply
enough in this culture. We should not
debase that coinage even further. When
men can easily accept women in combat
as neutral and equally expendable peers,
it will be time to allow them their full
and equal rights in this bloody arena.
But not until then.

= Afterall,
~ if smoking isn't a pleasure,
why bother?

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Causes Lung Cancer, Heart Disease,
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THE PLAYBOY ADVISOR

И have а strange relationship problem:
More than a year ago, 1 started seeing a
woman who was breaking up with another
man. Part of the reason she started seeing
me was to give her the strength to leave
this guy. I knew that, and at the time.
didn't bother me—1 was glad 1 could be of
help. But there are a few things that 1 was
kept in the dark about that now bother me.
It seems that although this man was
impossible to live with—he had a temper
that could erupt at the slightest provoca-
tion—he was extremely intelligent and a
great lover. And although my girlfriend
doesnt want to return to this man, it
appears that she still has a strong desire for
him—and none for me. Her libido has
gone from unquenchable to unwakable.
She says that I provide her with the sup-
port and stability she needs and that she
Ессіз like she actually has a home with me.
But she has no physical desire for me and
fantasizcs about other men, including this
old boyfriend. Now, I think I could handle
the situation if she simply had a weak
libido, but in fact, she has a strong sex
drive, just not for me. The worst part of it
is that we are living together, so I can't sim-
ply cool things off with her and start secing
other women. I don't feel right telling her
10 move out, because physically, she has not
cheated оп me. I could move out, but m
name is on the lease and I really love this
house. I could move into a separate room
in the same house, but E don't know what
that would accomplish. Any sugges-
tions?—S. Р, Davis, California.

So what if she hasn't cheated on you? Nei-
ther has your lawn chair. This ізгі fidelity,
its apathy. We agree that it would seem cruel
to unceremoniously kick her out. On the other
hand, you're entitled to feel comfortable and
al peace in your own home. If she is not inter-
ested in an intimate relationship with you,
her presence is keeping you from achieving
that goal with someone else. The current situ-
alion is unfair lo both of you, as is not serv-
ing either of your needs for intimacy. Youve
both given ita chance and now it’s time to cut
your lasses and move on. Move her into the
next room; fill your room with a lover.

МЕ, new car is equipped with Goodyear
Eagle steel-belted radial tires. I have seen
data on how to take care of these tires—
inflation pressure, sidewall care, wheel
alignment—but I have not seen any on
how to repair small punctures. When I had
other tires repaired, | watched in horror
as а mechanic forced a one-eighth-inch
steel tool through a pinhole and cringed as
i way through
the plies as he forced an elastomer into the
tire, and when he removed the tool, a glob
of material was left protruding through
the tread. I cannot believe that this
method does not damage the tire. Many

years ago, the way to repair a tubeless tire
was to remoxe it from the rim and place a
two-inch-diameter patch on the inside. Yet
no one I know uses this technique today. At
а $200 replacement cost, I can afford to
spend a little extra repairing the tires in а
way that will not shorten their life. What is
the recommended way to repair high-per-
formance tires?>—D. C., Bellevue, Wash-
ington.

A spokesman for Goodyear says that the
first tire-repair technique you describe is state
of Ihe art and is considered safer than the old
patch system, which could throw off the bal-
ance of a tire. If you get the work done by a
Goodyear serviceman who, upon inspecting
the finished product, declares the warranty
still to be valid, then the lire is guaranteed to
perform safely at the designated speed. The
speed rating is visible on the tire: S means
speeds up to 112 miles per hour, T to 118
mph, H to 130 mph, V to 149 mph, Z more
than 149 mph. The newer technique looks
ugly, but it works.

В. it my imagination, or has the ditor
gone out of fashion? In the Seventies, you
had people such as Shere Ние telling us
men were stupid because they didn't know
where the clitoris was. In the Fighties, you
had Monty Python's John Cleese telling
schoolboys, "You don't go leaping for the
clitoris like a bull at the gate.” Гуе had
women complain that I spend too much
time on clitoral stimulation or that 1 move
to the genitals too quickly One woman
went so far as to say that the return to ro-
mance was simply the return to whole
body sensuousness—i.e., everything €x-
cept the clitoris. l'm open to suggestions.
Are there any erogenous zones worth in-
ating?—W. L., Memphis, Tennessee.

Is polymorphous perversity making a come-
back? Your girlfriends have а point: The
entire body is an erogenous zone. Every now
and then, one area gets trendy—first the cli-
toris, then the С spol, then the space between
the ears. Eventually, even the most sensitive
area сап gel overrun with tourists. We've seen
books proclaiming new erogenous zones—the
nape of the neck, the navel, the bony knobs of
the pehns, the juncture of thigh and torso, the
back of the knee, the buttocks, the spine and
the small of the back. One of the most delicate
suggestions is lo treat body hair as an eroge-
nous zone. Ту running your fingernails
across the downlike hairs on your lovers back
and you'll see what we mean.

Д. dlectro-techno buddy says my video
heads, like the heads on my audio deck,
must be demagnetized. But he says my au-
dio-demag critter is too much for the video
machine, 1 have never эсеп a video-head
demagnetizer advertised in any of the
mailings that lic on catalog mountain.
Whats a boy to think?—D. T, Kodiak,

VCR heads do not need (а ђе demagnet-
ized. Cleaned, yes; zapped, no. Audio heads
record and play at lower frequencies, which
require higher voltages to record and play
back. The necessary voltage will magnetize
an audio-tape head, eventually requiring de-
magnetization to avoid damaging the tape.
In contrast, video heads weord at much
higher frequencies, which require only low
voltages. The lower voltages do not build up
an appreciable magnetic charge on the heads.

PRecently, 1 was playing tennis on Cape
Cod with an attractive, sexy, competitive
gal who has never won set with me. When
she is losing, she becomes quite frustrated.
She forgets the seore, balls that are mar-
ginally in are called out and good shots by
her opponents provoke unpleasant retorts.
When I win a point on a drop shot, she tells
me I should learn to hit the ball like a man.
During our last match, 1 was leading in a
12-point tie breaker, six to four. As I was
about to serve for what I hoped would be
the winning point, she walked to the net
and casually lifted up her blouse. She was
wearing a see-through bra and the sight of
her lovely breasts left me in a catatoni
state. The spectators became demonstra-
tive in support of her tactics. I lost my con-
ation and the set. Do you know of any
ion? Do I have
grounds for a legitimate protest or must I
take my lumps and derive whatever satis-
faction I can from my defeat?—K. H.
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.

Hey, lighten up. You and the crowd were
treated to a matched set the likes of which you
may never again experience. In purely tennis
terms, you stopped playmg your game (subtle
or unmanly drop shots) and started playing

PLAYBOY

her game (unbridled or barely bridled sexual
challenge). She sounds like one of the types in
“Business Games: How to Recognize the
Players and Deal with Them,” by Martin С
Groder. According to Groder, a psychiatrist
and business consultant, “Because women
think they shouldn't compete like men, they
often fight dirty by
denying that they're
fighting at all. For
example: "Although
Sharon claimed to be
а noncompelilive per-
son, when she played
tennis, she would do
everything she could
to make her opponent
feel bad if he won.
She would let him
know that winning
was a sign of weak-
ness, that it showed
his lack of fairness.”
If you try to explain
that your tennis part-
ner is abusing the
rules, she will deny И.
So raise the stakes.
Challenge her to strip
tennis. Or look at a
stack of centerfolds
before going onto the
court, so that her trick
will be less effective.

F seems as it every-
one has a leather
jacket these days. I
am thinking of buy-
ing one but would
like some pointers
on what style is best
and how to choose it
and care for и—
G. T G. Denver,
Colorado.

Leather jackets are
definitely in fashion
Styles range from
short casual motorcy-
cle or bomber styles to
less casual car coats
and more dressy
trench-coat lengths.
Pick a style based on
your needs. Since a
leather or suede coat
is usually a major in-

time of signing

ration and body oils. When it needs cleaning,
take it lo a dry cleaner who specializes m
leather cleaning

Ob. of my fraternity brothers says that
he attended a party where the revelers
played a sexual version of bobbing for

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Goldfish, in which two naked peoples hands
are tied behind their backs and they are put
оп a matiress together to “make love fish fash-
ion; i.e, no hands.” He says it was popular in
19th Century brothels, not 20th Century frat
houses. But who knows?

ЛАГ: ке writing
this letter from the
bar of the Lions
Head Pub in Kow-
loon, Hong Kong.
This the fourth.
British pub in the
colony in which we
have tried to get a
proper black and
tan. Even Ned Kel-
lys cant get it
right. Were a bit
worried, frankly,
that maybe we are
wrong. Naaaaah!
Here's the problem.
We are used to the
blackand tan served
at Hennessey’s, our
favorite bar in Seal
Beach. Californ
There, the bar-
tenders float the
mess on top of
the lager beer
Hong Kong,
serve it mixed
dont even pour it
separately. The
question is, which is
the proper way 10
pour a black and
tan? If the answer is
separately, then how
is it to be drawn?
Must both beers
be draught? Our
worthy quest contin-
ues.—G. G., Kow-
loon, Hong Kong.

It sounds as though
Ihe colony has already
passed into the hands
of the infidel hordes.
A proper black and
tan is a visual as well
as а taste treat. ИХ
what the Irish
watched before the in-
vention of television.

Photo

vestment, make sure balls, plaques The bartender puts
you buy it from a тер- . Auction privileges the Guinness т first,
utable store. Check e then adds the ale
ihat leather pieces Baseball's Living Treasures available at SHOWCASE/COMPLETE ATHLETE Stores (Smithwicks if you

match in color and

texture al the seams. Avoid buying a garment
that is tight, because you can expect some
shrinkage in cleaning and wear To keep your
leather jacket looking great, store it in a cool,
ventilated area. Never store it in a plastic bag
or in a hot, humid location. If you get caught
in Ihe rain, let it dry away from heat. Also,
wear a scarf to protect the collar from perspi-

apples. They would take a couple and tic
their hands behind their backs and watch
while they tried to make love. Sounds like
bulls . What do you think2—F. M..
[exa

tom

Houston,

Sounds like he went to a Catholic school.
Actually, Alex Comfort, author of “The Joy
of Sex,” described an erotic game called

are а purist) —push-
mg the handle back instead of forward to get
а flatter pout If you are forced to work with
bottled.
wet—m which the Irish nectar of the gods is

ünness, you might try a black vel
mixed with an equal amount of champagne.

WI, girlfriend gets turned on by some-
thing I think is а bit strange, though

highly erotic. Here is her favorite way to
have sex: We lay a soft blanket down on a
carpeted floor. She lies flat on it, face
down. | lie down on her back and pene-
trate her vagina from the rear. As 1 pound
her pelvis and pubic bone into the floor,
the shock waves vibrate through her pubic
bone and stimulate her clitoris, etc. Natu-
rally, she and I both scream with delight
She can come over and over until exhaust-
ed. I've asked her just what is going on in-
side her when we do this. She said that she
was not sure but that she used to mastur-
bate when she was younger by lying on the
floor in this same position and rubbing
and gently hitting her pubic bone on the
carpet. Have you ever heard of such a
thing2—J. H., Elgin, Illinois.

Did you used to live in the apartment
above ours? Yes, we have heard of something
like this before. Read the next letter. One of
the most important things you can learn
about a lover is how she pleases herself

| finally took some advice you had given
past columns and asked my girlfriend to
show me how she masturbated. She intro-
duced me to her old friend—a pillow that

she reached orgasm. 1 was aroused and
asked for a repeat. She rolled over and 1
entered her doggy style. She kept the pil-
low beneath her and rubbed her clitoris
against the satin cover while I thrust from

behind. The effect was explosive. 1 just
wondered if you had ever heard of a
ménage à trois with a pillow2—C. Y., Hart-
ford, Connecticut.

Group sex with laundry? Yes, we've heard
of this. You can also utilize armchairs and
sofas for a third leg. If you are adventurous,
you can rub a motorcycle seal the right way—
or a vaulting horse or a weight bench.

Where do 1 go for information on back
ies of Playboy? Someone broke into my
house and stole 20 years’ worth. | would
like to replace them. Any help you can of-
fer would be appreciated.—E. L., San
Diego, California.

We hope you had insurance. The premiere
December 1953 issue, in excellent condition,
now fetches more than $1000. We can help
you with some issues. Write for a free catalog
from Playboy. 800 Morse Avenue, Elk Grove
Village, Illinois 60007. We sell issues from
1960 on, with the prices set according to the
availability and demand. For example, while
most 1973 issues go for about $40, Ihe 20th
Anniversary Issue with the Hugh Hefner in-
итеу for 8150. For help trackmg
down pre-1960 issues, we recommend two
sources. John Cearnal, 108 Sentry, Mans-
field, Texas 76063, is cohead of the Playboy
Collectors of America and knows а lot about
layboy. Dick Baringhaus, of Ihe Ohio Book
Store (726 Main Street, Cincinnati, Ohio
45202), deals mostly in pre-1958 issues. They
may help you track down the rarest ones.

Hase you ever heard of a womans mak
ing love to a man's testicles? During oral
sex, my girlfriend sometimes fellates my
balls, taking them completely into her
mouth. It feels great. Now she wants to try
to fit them into her vagina. Is this safe?—
P.C., Milwaukee, Wisconsin

Its called the balling jach. A woman lies on
her back and wraps her legs high around her
lovers back. She guides the testicles between
her vaginal lips—the phrase two peas in a
pod comes to mind, The shaft of the penis then
rests against the clitoris. Once in position, she
sels the pace. The guidelines here are gentle-
ness and no sudden moves. This is not the
time to pul on the Jane Fonda workout.

АП reasonable questions—from fashion,
food and drink, stereo and sports cars todating
‚problems, taste and etiquette—will be person-
ally answered if the writer includes a stamped,
self-addressed envelope. Send all letlers to The
Playboy Advisor, Playboy, 680 North Lake
Shore Drive, Chicago, Illinois 60611.
The most provocative, pertinent queries
will be presented on these pages each month.

Dial The Playboy Advisor on the Air and
hear Playmates answer questions. Or record
your awn question! Call 1-900-740-3311;
only two dollars per minute.

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THE PLAYBOY FORUM

FROM: HUGH M. HEFNER

то: FORUM STAFF

Tho MoMartin school molestation case deserves special attention.

media haye ria tho MeMartin mial verdict ln e variety ol we LSPS magazine, “Geraldo”) to ap-
propriately perceptive (“60 Мани ia magna Tas Angelos Tin bote nin O No one
Pra a pointed out that the McMartin case was a selt- prophecy produced by the sexual repression.

and hysteria of a decade.

What wo have here is a coalition of conservative

а ied by the US. Department of Justice and much

sion on Pornography and the McMartin case. There is a direct link to

stamping out of “kiddie porn” ine society ‘where child pornography is almost nonexistent.

mammon S p wian nomnal rual пећи pn paar a rn PEN,
ose ia which orl mar ana go mund ou media Te NEARS
peso valuas ате арро as a resum of e sexual repression of tho ЕИ.

Salem witch-hunt magnified 10,000 times, supported by hysterical parents and government lew enforce

The McMartin conspiracy cano started with the ravings ога
em Califorma community’
with numerous

stc maven cote cid abuse, Вина, mln animes nr
nonsense, but some of the most hysterical parents bought those fantasies—and
interviewed on “Geraldo” after the trial.

wi un operas и и OM т зоот МА
ва ee аа ора ma Ten kann eMe tt
$500,000 for its report on pornography.

The Meese commission did no commissioners did a widely publicized, cross
that left in its “вех addict,” and that
of sexual repression,

eene dida ro was ey I ne m MM a y eat
IN
Pom hysteria has caused their children reel barm-

Sexual repression produces perversion, but no one wants to!
e а politically popular When the earlier dese
studied thecause and effect of pornography, perversion, екс.

or pornography and perversion, the result of the тезе:

Or pore ecco commission pretended to study the subject in the
conclusions on preconceived prejudices.

Times, dated January 23, 1990, Dr. Money
ning epidemic of aberrant ‘sexual behavior."
Ü SP rchers found no evidence that pornography causes or

perversionsl.”
ecto the reci o the Боти Bevor Cini at the New Yok Sale РУ ы oo

"hd parents felt comfortable talking with each other anos,
ally see them, we ses them as criminals to be

Twould ike to suggest that Playboy find a way to explore some of the

SEX: THE GOOD, THE BAD AND THE KINKY

one of america's premiere sex researchers
takes on the forces that want to undo the sexual revolution

Why does one man prefer blondes and
the missionary position? Why does an-
other expose himself to strangers? Why
do women like to cuddle? Why do some
men rape and murder?

According to Dr. John Mon-
ey, who has studied the devel-
opment of human sexuality for
40 years, the child is father of
the man. Dr. Money is professor
of medical psychology in the
department of psychiatry and
behavioral sciences and profes-
sor of pediatrics at the Johns
Hopkins University School of
Medicine. He cofounded the
Gender Identity Clinic and
founded the Sex Offender Pro-
gram at Johns Hopkins.

In two recent books, Love-
maps and Vandalized Lovemaps,
he argues that we each have a
hidden agenda—a love map
that contains an idealized lover,
love scene and program of erot-
ic activities—that will guide us
through our adult sexual life.
The patterns are laid down in
early childhood, probably be-
tween the ages of four and
nine, and, some research sug-
gests, as early as the age of
three. Money believes that love
maps are very fragile—they
can be distorted by a repressive
upbringing, one in which the
parents never mention sex or
actively punish or prohibit nor-
mal child sex-rehearsal play.

Adults with normal love
maps have a balance between
love and lust—each serves the
other. Adults with vandalized
love maps will develop a sexual

tin sexual-abuse case grew out of a hys-
terical atmosphere created by antisexual
forces.

MONEY: In the Sixties, America experi-
enced what the media called a sexual

counterreformation?

MONEY: Essentially, some people are tak-
ing everything that is sex-positive and
labeling it sex-negative. Today's witch-
hunt goes after women's liberation, gay
liberation, sex education, con-
traception, teenage pregnancy,
abortion and pornography.

Let me tell you a few of the
themes of the counterreforma-
tion and how the antisex people
use them.

First, infection. In the early
Eighties, Time magazine pub-
lished story after story on her-
pes. Of course, the virus has
been around since the ancient
Egyptians, but it suddenly be-
came the Devil's scourge. И
wasn't something new that cre-
ated its newsworthiness. Time
used herpes as a piece of prop-
aganda, telling its readers that
they should quit having scx and
go back to the traditional
monogamous family. "Ionguc-
clacking moralisms were insert-
ed into each paragraph of the
articles.

Second, homosexuality. The
counterreformation loathes ho-
mosexuality. In the Sixties, peo-
ple viewed it as something no
more dangerous than left-
handedness. The counterrefor-
mation view is that God is
punishing homosexuals by
plighting them with AIDS.

Third, sex education. Coun-
terreformationists say that sex
education is dangerous and
must be done at home or in the
church—another way of saying
that it won't be taught at all.

dysfunction, or worse. Some de-
velop bizarre sexual preferences, others
molest or abuse children, some take sex
by force, others become martyrs to abuse.
Money believes that repressive sexual
attitudes—not permissive values—will
increasingly breed aberrant behavior.
Atthe urging of Hugh Hefner, we in-
terviewed Money for The Playboy Forum.
What started asa simple Q.&A. about the
McMartin controversy turned into a
wide-ranging conversation. We found his
outspoken views to be provocative and
dead-on.
FORUM: Hefner suggests that the McMar-

revolution. However, if we wanted to be
accurate, we would call it a reformation.
Like all reformations, it was spontaneous
rather than planned. lt was triggered by
the discovery of penicillin, which con-
trolled the scourge of syphilis and gonor-
thea, and by the appearance of the pill in
the Sixües, which gave women a new
form of control over reproduction.
Historically, all reformations are fol-
lowed by a backlash, a counterreforma-
tion. We are currently in a sexual
counterreformation.
rorun: What are the dynamics of this

They are against openness.
They fear questions.
FORUM: It seems that the counterreforma-
tion is full of contradictions. lt rants
against teenage pregnancy but is against.
birth control and sex education.
MONEY: The counterreformationists do
rant against teenage pregnancy the
fourth of their themes, and much of what
they say is bogus. They include nineteen-
year-old married women in the statistics
of teen pregnancies. They are dishonest.
They label teen pregnancies as acts of
immorality, an attempt to impose a white,
middle-class morality on everyone. They

should put their efforts into changing the
financial conditions of young mothers.
Another recurring theme is pornogra-
phy. The counterreformationists propa-
gate the phony theory that pornography
is progressive and contagious: You start
out drinking milk, then looking at wom-
en in underwear catalogs, then looking at
snuff movies and then the only thing that
will allow you to ejaculate is committing
murder. The idea is absurd. When you
criminalize pornography, you criminal-
ize sex.
FORUM: If you can't say some-
thing bad about sex, don't say it.
Which leads us to the American
Obsession with sexual scan-
dals—the Bakkers, Swaggarts
and Trumps.
MONEY: Yes, the fascination with
the sexual errancy of public
figures is the final result of an
antisexual strategy. It is the old-
est hypocrisy—you can talk
about anything forbidden as
long as you condemn it. A tool
of the counterreformation is
the manipulation of language.
You can trace the history of sex-
negative ideas through lan-
guage. During the time of
the Inquisition, some people
thought that sex was the result
of demonic possession; hence,
the term sex fiend. Later, some
theorists thought that sex re-
sulted from a flaw in heredity,
an evolutionary throwback to a
more primitive state; therefore,
the term sex monster. Two hun-
dred years ago, it was suggested
that masturbation caused de-
generacy, which in turn caused
sickness and death; thus, the
term sex degenerate. Now we
have the term sex addict. The
attempt to pathologize sex is
the culmination of the counter-
reformation.
Forum: When did the sexual
counterreformation begin?
Money: It began in the Seven-
ties. Its agents were trying to
get people thrown into jail for distribut-
ing any heterosexual pornography that
displayed a man's penis. They weren't too
successful. It became clear by the end of
the Seventies that the big push was going
to be on kiddie porn. The idea was to get
people mobilized against kiddie porn—
which, naturally, is easy to do—in order
eventually to mobilize against sex itself.
Forum: In the midst of the counterrefor-
mation atmosphere, we had the McMar-
tin child-abuse case. In order to detect
abuse, the kids were subjected to abuse.
They were poked, prodded, video-taped

and their private parts were examined by
doctors with colposcopes. This is not the
hrst time abuse has occurred in the name
of care.

MONEY: In the 1880s, Dr. John Harvey
Kellogg wrote a book about the dangers
of masturbation. Kelloggs Corn Flakes
were invented as antimasturbation food.
For intractable cases of masturbation in
boys, Kellogg recommended sewing up
the foreskin with silver wire, and for
girls, carbolic acid applied to the ditoris.
He recommended that fathers creep up

"It is the oldest hypoeris;

as you condemn it.”

on their sleeping sons and pull back the
blankets. An erect penis was prima-facie
evidence of the sleeping sinner caught in
the secret vice. Kellogg said nothing of
nocturnal penile tumescence. He slept
alone and never consummated his mar-
riage. In fact, he was a klismaphiliac [an
enema fetishist]; his orderly gave him an
enema every morning after breakfast.
Kellogg published a list of things to
look for in a child as signs of masturba-
tion: sleeplessness; a sudden change in
disposition; a love of solitude; bashful-
ness; unnatural boldness; mock piety;

—you сап
talk about anything forbidden as long

fickleness; untrustworthiness; being easi-
ly frightened; confusion of ideas; capri-
cious appetite; eating clay, slate pencil
plaster, chalk; acne; biting fingernails;
bed wetting; unchastity of speech. A list
that is nearly the same is circulated today
as evidence of child abuse.

FORUM: Where do the sex-negative im-
ages that many people have come from?
money: Every religion has a philosophy of
sex that influences the childhood devel-
opment of love maps and paraphilias, or
sexual perversions. Christianity has the
split between saintly love and
sinful lust, a doctrine that pen-
etrates our child-rearing prac-
tices. It is impossible for
children to grow up without as-
similating the concept that the
genitals are a prime source of
sin.

But the sex-negative ideas
don't come only from religion.
They also come from fairy tales
and medieval and Renaissance
art. I've written about a concept
called paleodigms, which of
course borrows from para-
is. Paleo means old, and
а means example ог Шиѕ-

trau
One uf the oldest themes is
that of sacrifice and expiation.
One concept that floats around
in our awareness from an carly
age, for instance, is the pu-
rification from sin through sac-
rifice. That's the story of
Abraham and Isaac, of God
and the Crucifixion of Christ.
Some people develop paraphil-
ias that permit them to experi-
ence lust only if there is also
atonement. In these situations,
the penalties for having sex
range from humiliation and
hurt to blood sacrifice and
death. Self-imposed atonement
often appears as masochisı
performed on the partner, it is
sadism. For the victim of abuse
as a child, that tragedy can be
turned into a bizarre triumph:
The victim re-enacts the abuse as the on-
ly act of love he has ever known. Some
people, in turn, abuse their own chil-
dren—as living evidence of the sin of
their own sexuality. The execution of a
sex criminal is a way of telling our chil-
dren that all sex is a sin of such magni-
tude that it can be atoned for only in the
electric chair.
Forum: One of the curiosities about the
McMartin case was the similarities in the
stories the children told about satanic rit-
uals, human sacrifice, digging up cof-
fins, drinking blood. Is this a case of

paleodigms in action?

MONEY: Well, I would think it's one per-
sons paleodigm in action, and it was
transmitted to the children during ques-
tioning.

FORUM: A story in the Memphis newspa-
per The Commercial Appeal reported that
there have been thirty-six instances na-
tionwide in which children told of satanic
rituals combined with sexual abuse. Is
there a source of contamination? A
made-for-TV movie? Saturday-morning
cartoons? Sunday school?
money: | don't think we have a
factual basis on which to make
any speculation. Yowve given
me a good clue, though. We
should look at Saturday-morn-
ing cartoons to see what pale-
odigms they transmit.

FORUM: Tell us more about how
paleodigms influence sexual
behavior.

MONEY: Some paraphilias are
based on paleodigms of ma-
rauding and predation. For
example, some people incorpo-
rate lust into their love map on
the condition that it be stolen,
abducted or imposed by force.
Some people steal sex by attack,
assault and seizure. They take
without consent. Images of cave
men stealing love, of savages
raiding the neighboring tribe
to carry off women fuel the
rapist.

Some paraphilias are based
on mercantile and venal strate-
gies, where lust is incorporated
into the love map only if it
is traded, bartered or pur-
chased— not freely exchanged.
Those people feel that carnal
passion belongs not to the Ma-
donna and the provider but to
the whore and the hustler.

Some people have to substi-
tute objects—a fetish or a talis-
man—for their lover, since lust
defiles saintly love. Some peo-
ple associate underwear with
sex. They may end up wearing
ladies’ lingerie in order to become
aroused. Some people substitute an act
that belongs in courtship or foreplay for
actual copulation. Touching and rub-
bing, displaying and watching, talking or
listening become more important and
more arousing than intercourse. One of
my patients was punished as a child when
his mother found him showing off his
erect penis to his playmates. He became
an exhibitionist, or flasher. What is fasci-
nating is how unique and idiosyncratic
cach love map is. You cannot learn some-
one else's love map or borrow someone

else's fantasy. It won't work.

FORUM: Counterreformationists look for
single causes of paraphilias, such as
pornography. You argue that most disor-
ders are biographically determined from
events in the individual's life and that
sex-negating antecedents in childhood
produce sex pathologies in adulthood.
MONEY: The counterreforinationists rea-
son by analogy, not by cause and effect.
They have gotten incredible mileage out
of the theory of the social contagion of

pornography If pornography had the

impossible for children to grow
up without assimilating ihe concept that
the genitals are a prime source of sin”

power to contaminate, everyone on the
Meese commission, given the amount of
pornography viewed, would be in jail for
killing countless people.
FORUM: Тед Bundy said that a childhood
encounter with pornography turned him
into a serial killer.
MONEY: You know why he did that. He was
having the last laugh on all of us, justify-
ing himself by using James Dobson's (the
minister who interviewed. him] own
justification as to why he was a killer.
Bundy blamed society for all that he did.
It has been previously reported that

Bundy may have becn the product of in-
cest, of his mother with her father. That
was the most hideous secret in the family.
Bundy's mother denied it. 1 didn't talk
with Bundy, but I have talked with other
serial lust murderers and I know that
they become puppets for the mental im-
agery and fantasy of the parents. If, ın
some way, Bundy was aware that the rea-
son he was treated peculiarly as a child
had something to do with his mother's
relations] ith her father, who possibly
brutalized her, its not too difficult to
imagine that he concluded that
sex was the most hideous and
horrible thing in the world.
People like him are never able
to put the story together in a
logical form. The vei

the immediate problem but
Creates worse ones.

FORUM: How do you disprove
the social-contagion theory?
MONEY: Some men are one hun-
dred percent against putting
their penis in someone else's
mouth; some women are one
hundred percent against hav-
ing someone’s mouth enclose
their vulva, Watching a porn
movie will not change their
views; the activity is not in their
love maps. You can't hang the
coat on a hook, because the
hook isn't there.

FORUM: Do you see positive
benefits of pornography?
MONEY: Many. I have one patient
who, when he is exposed to nor-
mal erotic images such as you
find in Playboy, has normal sex-
ual fantasies. In the absence of
healthy erotica, he has sadistic,
brutal fantasies about bondage,
rape and death.

FORUM: Close а newsstand, cre-
ate a killer. Some people say
that porn is the theory, rape
is the practice. They also say
that men are rapists at heart,
that all sex is rape. How do
you answer them?

money: There is something historically
understandable about women whose
dam of rage bursts over on men—men in
the generic sense. In order to liberate
themselves from the prison of forced
motherhood, women had to relinquish
all claim to any source of sexual enjoy-
ment. Their major source of oppression
was being made pregnant too often with-
out any option. Right up to the time 1 was
а graduate student, it was illegal to ob-
tain any kind of contraception. Women
could not control their own reproductive

life; they wererit sure they wouldn't die
from their first pregnancy. Belore they
could claim they were equal to men, they
had to give up their sex life, because only
whores and harridans were interested in

sex.
What has happened in the revival of
the womens movement is that not only do
women have to sacrifice their sex life if
they want to be equal to men but, by God,
men had better sacrifice theirs, too.
FORUM: Are men targets of the counter-
reformationists?
MONEY: The counterreforma-
tionists portray women as the
victims of carnal knowledge
without consent. In the old
form of witchcraft, women
were the accused; now men are.
The uncompromising evidence
of their heresy is not only rape
but also pornography. Here lies
the onset of a new inquisition,
this one directed chiefly at the
lust not of wives and daugh-
ters but of husbands and sons.
If unhalted, we could see а
progressive increase in the
prevalence of accusations of
the marauding and predatory
paraphilias. As each new gener-
ation of boys matures into pu-
berty, their manhood would. in
increasing numbers, be sexual-
ly traumatized and disabled.
FORUM: If all penises are out-
lawed, only outlaws will have
penises. In short, the propa-
ganda that all men are rapists
will only breed rapists.
MONEY: Exactly. Not only wom-
en are doing this, of course; a
lot of the religious-minded are
joining their pure-minded sis-
ters.
FORUM: In your books, you cite
examples of severe distortion of
love maps. Can you cite some
examples of ordinary damage
stemming from sexual repres-
sion?
MONEY: There are very few par-
ents who have rehearsed what
they would do if they found their chil-
dren playing at having sex. So they do
what every parent has done before: They
lose their cool and they inflict punish-
ment. The tragedy for the children is
that there is an extremely good chance
that their love maps will become distort-
ed. The girls will be able to relate to sex
in terms of romance only above the belt;
they will be unable to reach orgasm. Sex.
for them, will be an act of breeding, not
an act of pleasure. The boys will not
be able to satisfy ordinary lust in an
ordinary way They become locked in

sex below the belt.

FORUM: How should parents react 10
childhood sexplay?

MONEY: They should not be surprised, for
all children have a curiosity about sex.
But they should certainly remain calm
and under no circumstance should they
punish the children. However, they
should tell their child that sexual curiosi-
ty is not necessarily socially acceptable.
FORUM: And what are some of the more
extraordinary forms of repression?
MONEY. One stepmother took a sewing

"The only way a sex researcher can be
sure of getting Government funding

lo be against sex.”

needle and jabbed her stepdaughters
labia, threatening to sew her up, when
she discovered her masturbating.

FORUM: What is the effect of all this re-
pression?

MONEY: That's a tough question. I would
say that fifty percent of the nation get
fifty-seven cents to the dollar on their sex
lives. Maybe ten percent get the full dol-
lar.

FORUM: At the beginning of the Seventies,
we had a genuine concern about child
abuse in the context of violence in the
family that seems to have dissipated.

What happened?

MONEY: Criticizing violence came too
close to criticizing punishment, the old
Christian notion of spare the rod and
spoil the child. It isthe right of parents to
discipline their children; they must be
disciplined in order to be moral. Punish-
ment in the name of discipline can lead
to horrible forms of abuse.

FORUM: What do you make of the sociolo-
gists who find child abuse lurking in ev-
ery other household, or the researchers
who claim that childhood sexplay is a

form of sex abuse?

money: Unfortunately, they

have never defined abuse. I do
know that many social scientists
will call it abuse if a child sees

eyes. But all of these research-
ers get money from the Gov-
ernment. And the only way a
researcher can get Government
funding is to be against sex.
FORUM: What do you advise in
order to increase the sexual
health of American children?
MONEY: It should be public poli-
cy to strive for better sexual
health in our children. We
should establish a pediatric sex-
ology clinic. There are no doc-
tors who specialize in pediatric
sexology and who offer child
care in cases of ill health.
There's not even a clinic for
teenagers, even given all the
talk about the terrible diffi-
culties we have with teenagers.
If we were really dedicated to
sexual health, if we didrit want
teenagers running out and get-
ting AIDS soon after puberty,
we would have a special tele-
vision channel dedicated to
sexual everything—learning,
entertainment— where kids
could get the information they
needed.

Anyone who does not learn
about and actively encourage
the normal development of healthy sexu-
ality in children is running a terrible risk
of contributing to pathology in their de-
velopment. We should be just as fussy
about sexual health as we are about nu-
tritional health.

We made a decision to get rid of small-
pox and we did. If we made the same de-
cision about sexual health, we could
prevent the spread of the epidemic of
sexual ill health. If we opened a national
pediatric sexology clinic, and the Presi-
dent came and cut the ribbon, imagine
the difference that would make.

FIGHT IN FLORIDA
lam a resident of central Flori-
da and have felt the effects of the
Reverend Donald Wildmor's
group, the American Family As-
sociation, exercising its muscle
against free speech. The local
A.EA. director, David E. Caton,
sent registered letters to execu-
tives of dozens of Florida busi-
nesses demanding that they
remove sexually explicit maga-
zines from their stores. One of
the magazines was, of course,
Playboy. 1 assume you know
about this. Are you taking any
action against the A.EA.? Things
are getting desperate here.
J. Gonzalez
Miami, Florida

As you know, for years, Playboy
has been the target of moral zealots
who use picketing, lies and not-so-
subtle threats to prohibit retailers
from selling our magazine. We
have always concluded that those
activities are protected by the First
Amendment and we refuse to en-
join picketing and boycotts even
though their objective was to drive
legal magazines out of the market.

However, Playboy believes that
the A.FA. stepped over the legal
line when Calon sent the letter to
Florida retailers threatening prose-
cution if they did not stop selling
certain magazines. Caton told re-
tailers that, unless they removed the
magazines from sale, the A.FA.
would demand that sheriffs and
States attorneys file criminal charges
against the retailers and would expose the
retailers as criminals, The demands Caton
made in his letter are, in Playboy's opinion,
extortion.

The Supreme Court has held that the
Racketeer Influenced and Corrupt Organi-
zations Act (RICO) can be used to bring
civil actions against anyone who commits
criminal acts, including extortion or tres-
pass (as in the case of pro-life people en-
croaching on abortion clinics’ grounds).
Playboy and others are currently suing the
А.А. chapter in Florida and Caton under
RICO to prohibit them from engaging in
extortion.

NARC, NARC
Americans seem on the brink of sur-
rendering their civil liberties in a desper-
ate effort to combat drug use ("Narc,
Narc,” by John Dentinger, The Playboy

FOR THE RECORD

A DOUBLE WHAMMY

FOR OUR CHILDREN

Words of wisdom from “Ask Marilyn,” an advice
column by Marilyn Vos Savant, reportedly the
smartest woman in the world. Well, at least her ad-
vice shows a high 1.0.

What are two of the worst things we commonly
teach our children?
—Francis Gribbin, Wilmington, Delaware

That a knowledge of science is nice but not
necessary, and a knowledge of sex is necessary
but not nice.

Forum, April). A similar national peril
permanently changed the face of US.
law enforcement in 1934. The US. Jus-
tice Department, which at that time had
almost no police powers, virtually creat-
ed a national crime wave—featuring such
celebrated bank robbers as John Dillin-
ger—in order to overcome opposition to
Federal anticrime laws. An increase in
the power of the FBI was the result.
Dismantling the Constitution will not
solve the drug problem. It will only fur-
ther erode our personal freedoms.
Horace Naismith
Chicago, Illinois

Congratulations for bringing to light
the negligence of our overzealous police
in fighting the drug war. Law-abiding cit-
izens are the new victims i

Park Ridge, Illinois

Americans rarely read about
police mistakes in searching out
drug criminals. We usually read
that we need more jails, more
laws and more policemen, The
police officers who committed
the illegal searches should be
criminally charged.

T. H. Cole
Atlanta, Georgia

Most people in this country
have allowed themselves to be
manipulated by a political cam-
paign to the point that they will
gladly surrender their own pre-
cious freedoms. As we watch and
applaud the struggle of people
all over the world for their free-
doms, we are spurning the very
freedoms that make our system
the one they emulate.
(Name and address
withheld by request)

ADDICTION

Personal responsibility for
one's behavior may well be the
clarion call of the Nineties (“The
Emperors New Addiction,” by
Marty Klein, The Playboy Forum,
March). We can no longer blame
outside causes for our own de-
structive behavior. Labeling un-
desirable conduct a disease
makes it possible to treat the
afflicted with rain-dance cures.

I went to my share of Alco-
holics Anonymous meetings,
where we bayed at the moon for
relief from our affliction. Meanwhile,
after meetings, a number of us often re-
grouped at a member's house with our
bottles. We knew how to spell relief.

Over a 25-year period, I went through
treatment several times. All roads led to
A-A., a circus tent filled with wailing peo-
ple giving testament to their sins. My
quest for a cure was not in vain. But 1
didn’t find it in A.A. I found it by reading
a book titled Heavy Drinking: The Myth
of Alcoholism as a Disease, by Herbert
Fingareue, published in 1988 by the Uni-
versity of California Press. Fingarette's
message is that alcohol abuse cannot be
blamed on a disease, that the abuser hasa
choice of having power over alcohol. 1
alone was responsible for my habit. 1 quit
drinking. Not one day at a time but when
responsibility demanded it.

James Almblad
Portland, Oregon

куем THE
АЗИЈА "
а сре керс
posed to be hotbeds of controversy,
citadels of diversity and the enlightenment
that comes from challenge and response.
Back in the Sixties, the term they used
wos psychosocial moratorium—a fancy
phrase far free-far-all. It wos the apposite
of a trade school (there is
only one way ta da
things—the Army woy) or a

“47,

sends tog-
rapher David Chan to re-
cruit college wamen for a
pictorial. Every yeor, he en-
counters the same knee-jerk
response from vocal minori-
ties and fringe groups-
Some school popers refuse
10 accept the od announcing the audition
(if you keep the masses ignarant, may-
be they wont make choices you donit want
them ta make). Some feminist groups
use the occasion 10 trumpet their clichés
about the exploitation of women, saying,
in effect, “We ore all sisters . . . ond we
will tell you how to make а living” And
some wamen make а personal choice ја
favor of truth, nudity and beauty.

This years celebration of the girls of the
Atlantic Coast Conference brought some
new faces to the debate. The rhetoric of
the feminist fringe became official bu-
reaucratese. Eugene F. Corrigon, the
commissioner of the А.С.С, wrote to
Playboy Editorial Director Arthur Kretch-
mer, pratesting not the nudity but the use
of trademarks: “This feature conspicuous-
ly displayed the names of our conference
and universities in an abvious effort to
generate increased magazine sales. Ву
your frequent and deliberate use of our
widely recognized school emblems and
logograms, you have suggested confer-
ence and university association with this
offensive and distasteful article.

“Just as we recognize our students’ and
your right of free expression, | expect you
will recognize the impropriety of demean-

WIMPS OF THE

Ферт рам

ing and commercially explaiting our uni-
versities in a lewd mogozine article. It is
my sincero hope that you will reflect on
the importance and volue of higher educa-
tion to aur society and decline ta publish
features that are designed only to gener-
ate income through the explaitation of

women, their universities and athletic
conferences.”

The commissioner of the conference is
the guy whose job includes exploitotion of
student/athletes for the maximum dollar
through the sale of TV rights, pennants,
pompons and beer mugs emblazoned with
‘YELLOW JACKETS, 8ШЕ DEVILS, TERRAPINS, TAR HEELS
and DEMON DEACONS, not the busts of Homer
or Socrates or Allan Bloom. Tell you
what, Eugene—we wont charge you
advertising rates ($65,000 per роде) for
the free exposure in Playboy. You con use
the money to buy a Corvette far some
scholar/athlete.

Chicaga Sun-Times calumnist Richard
Roeper called the A.C.C. for hypocrisy in
motian: “Excuse me, but isrit this the same
conference of the Maryland bosketball
program recently put on probation for nu-
merous violations? And isn’t this the same
conference of North Carolino Stote and
the emborrassingly irresponsible Jim Val-
vano?

"In the post decade and a half, confer-
ences from the Pac 10 to the Big Ten to the
Ivy League have been featured in Playboy
pictorials. It would be nearly impossible ta
prove that such features have done a

A.C.C... 222 узе 27

AA 28271

ARAS
of these conferences.

^| cavldr't say the same about Valvano's
effect on the image of the A.C.C“

The president of Duke, H. Keith Brodie,
is also guilty of stonding in the moral lane
for more than three seconds. “1 believe

Playboy magazines feature
on the Girls of the A.C.C.
shows extremely question-
able taste. The A.C.C. is an
athletic conference, not а
modeling agency, and the
focus of a feature like this is
demeaning to the women in
the A.C.C., especially since
some of them ronk among
the notions best collegiate
athletes. . . . While a deci-
sian to pose for such photo-
graphs should rightfully be
left up to the individual

Teresa Mead, senior at UNC. From Girls of the A.C.C. (Playboy, April).

any education institution."

Duke was so flustered that students in-
vited Playboy Managing Phota Editor Jeff
Cohen to porticipate in a panel discussion
on the fallout from the pictorial. Charlatte
Clark, a Duke student who had posed for
the feature, eloquently defended her ос-
tion to the support of an S.R.O. audience.
A feminist chided Cohen for including in
опе photo a gold Americon Express credit
card. “Was this supposed to indicate that
the waman could be bought? Were you
reducing women to an object to be con-
sumed by men?” Cohen replied that the
detail of the credit card was meant to
show that the girl was a woman of inde-
pendent means: Playboy does not objecti-
fy the women it photographs.

A student walked to the microphone
and challenged the feminist, Objec-
tification мов antisex rhetoric for desire.
What was wrong with desire? "What
would it take for wamen to objectify те?”
he said, taking off his shirt. “This? Or do
you need more?” He removed his pants.
"Will this do it?“ Не dropped his drawers
and, defiantly naked, strode from the
room to wild applause. Nudity as a politi-
col statement. Freedom: 1, wimps: 0.

N E W

SFR

O N T

what's happening in the sexual and social arenas

= RETHINK THOSE STEREOTYPES =

KANSAS cıry—Researchers at Florida
State University and the University of
Kansas asked the question Why do you
have sex? and got some interesting an-
swers. Sixty-one percent of women aged
22 to 35 said that love was their prime
motive for having sex. Sixty-two percent
of women aged 36 to 57 said that pleasure
was their prime mover. As for men, its just

the opposite: 69 percent under 36 said
that pleasure was their reason for having
sex, while 50 percent aged 36 to 57 said
that love was their reason. Why this flip-
flop in values? The researchers speculate
that men and women hold stereotypical
attitudes toward sex because they're stereo-
typical. Says one, “It takes the first half of
adult life for men and women to gain the
sense of self lo begin to seek out the other
half of sexual expression.”

STEREOTYPES: TAKE TWO

NEW ORLEANS—How promiscuous is
behavior in the U.S.? Probably not as
promiscuous as you think. New research
indicates that Americans are sexually “cir
cumspect and traditional” and not as lib-
erline as portrayed in books and movies.
A survey of randomly chosen adults found
that during the 12 months prior to the sur-
vey, 22 percent of Americans had no sex
and 15 percent had an extramarital
affair The average American had 12
sexual partners and had sex 57 times.
Seventy percent of the men admitted to

having had at least one affair during
their married lives, as did 35 percent of
the women. Only one percent of the те-
spondents said they were exclusively homo-
sexual. The researchers conclude that
Americans have changed their sexual be-
havior because of the fear of AIDS and
other sexually transmitted diseases. They
also believe that most Americans' sexual
behavior does not put them al a high risk
for AIDS.

EVERYTHING EXCEPT THE PARTNER

DANBURY. CONNECTICUT— Good news
for condom users comes from NeuroCom-
munication Research Laboratories, which
is conducting а two-year research project
on consumer preferences in quality con-
domuear To order a free package of
condoms and io receive а confidential
questionnaire about prophylactic prefer-
ences, dial 800-336-1935. Condom man-
ufacturers will use the feedback to produce
a more appealing product. Who says com-
munity service is boring?

HOUSING CRISIS

SPRINGFIELD, MASSACHUSETTS—Prison
overcrowding, undoubtedly due to the war
on drug users and dealers, forced a frus-
trated sheriff to seize the local National
Guard armory for a makeshift јан. He
booted out stunned officials, using as his
excuse a 17th Century statute ordering
him to keep the peace and arguing that he
needed the temporary prison in order “to
prevent the collapse of the criminal-justice
system.” The prisoners were to be moved
later to a National Guard facility in
Holyoke.

— PAS, ALRIGHT =

Los ANGELES—Drug dealing continues
10 remain profitable, as sheriff s deputies
in LA. County can attest. Nine of the ten
members of the elite narcotics squad, aptly
named Major Violator Crew И, have been
indicted for skimming $1,400,000 from
money they seized from drug busts. After
the busts, the drug traffickers were re-
leased back io the street until they did
enough business to make it worth while
for the nares lo arrest them again and
seize their money again. The cops are cur-
rently on leave with pay.

CONTRACEPTIVE: UPDATE

WASHINGTON, D.C.—Millions of unwant-
ed pregnancies result in about 750,000
abortions annually. These are the un-
palatable results of the high failure rate
ој U.S. birth-control methods, reports the
National Research Council in a new
study. Three percent of pill takers, six
percent of 1.U.D. users, 12 percent of con-
dom users and 18 percent of contracep-
tive-sponge users become pregnant during
the first year of use. Foams, jellies and
creams fail 21 percent of the time and as
many as 23 percent of diaphragm users
may end up pregnant each year. The
N.R.C. also reports that US. companies
are so immobilized by product-liability
laws and stringent FDA policies that they
are decades behind Europe in the develop-
ment of new contraceptives. In addition,
the FDA has refused to approve a number
of options—such as implantable contra-
ceptives, once-a-month pills and revers-
ible sterilization—available іп other
countries.

A NEW CONTRACEPTIVE?

NEW YORK— Fertility and Sterilization,
the official journal of the American Fertil-
ну Society, reports thal cocaine use may
lower sperm count and diminish male

fertility. The effect disappears, however,
after drug use stops. A specialist in male
infertility cautions that the study “is
provocative but by no means evidence of
cause and effect.”

The new late night TV
show with high-energy
sizzle that will soar you
into the 9О and beyond.
After Hours. A breakneck roller
coaster ride in and around who's
hot, what's what and where it's
happening. So tune in Mondays
thru Fridays and have a good night.

CHECK YOUR LOCAL TV LISTINGS
FOR TIME AND STATION IN YOUR AREA.

MENTHOL

SURGEON GENERAL'S WARNING: Cigareue | кн =
Smoke Contains Carbon Monoxide. Mir suggested retail ice
15 mg “tar,” 1.0 mg nicotine av. per cigarette by FTC method.

Reporters Notebook

CRIMES AND MISDEMEANORS

in june, washington mayor marion barry goes on trial
for smoking crack. but that's far from the most troubling violation

А suliry voice Бесін
“өте on over, honey:
back in town. Lers party" e. How
could Washington mayor Marion Barry
have known that his ex-girlfriend, a beau-
tiful former model, was now working for
the FBI and that he was going to get bust-
ed instead of laid?

Could he even have guessed that the
United States Government had gone to the
trouble of flying Rasheeda Moore cross-
country from Burbank, California—just
for this date? Well, it had; and even as the
mayor, as alleged, clumsily attempted the
resumption of ап off-again, on-again
decade-long sexual men
were baby-sitting Moore's three children,
proving that the FBI is a full-service agen-
cy. This from a bleeding-heart conserva-
tive Government that wails about the drug
problem but can't Find significant money
for drug-treatment programs, not to men-
tion basic child care for ghetto kids.

Arriving at the posh Vista hotel room,
the mayor evidently took it in stride that,
her sexy invitation notwithstanding, В.
sheeda Moore had a girlfriend who kept
coming and going during the fateful 45
minutes of his visit. Perhaps the FBI, in
setting this up, had assumed that Barry,
the sophisticated mayor of a sophisticated
town, would find nothing odd in the s
gestion of an early-evening threesome
With an undercover FBI agent, yet

Barry, the subject of years of investiga-
tions of alleged drug use, is either sublime-
ly dumb or naive about the workings of
American justice. Friends close to him said
that alcohol had so besotted his brain that
he may not

ned over the phone
Rasheeda is

deed, the ladies did ply His Honor with
three glasses of cognac. The mayor then
allegedly made what the FBI, wl
filming a potential porn movie of the е!
tire episode, would later call a sexual ad-
vance toward Moore, According to The
Washington Post, Barry “touched her on
the leg, kissed her on the cheek and tried
to her on the lips, said knowledgeable
sources.”

Imagine. When that went nowhere, he
allegedly asked for drugs instead, The |
dy FBI agent obligingly produced so
crack that the mayor allegedly
pipe supplied by the Government
claim is that he took three pulfs,

The
et the

opinion By ROBERT SCHEER

pipe down, put on his coat and was prep
ing to leave when the FBI burst in and put
hi handcuffs.

Had the FBI agent informed Barry that
no drugs were available, then no charges
could have been brought. There would
have been no forced urine testing and no
chemical analysis of a strand of the mayor's
hair that the Gove:
telltale сукі
time in the past. Had the FBI pro-

or peyote, the entire
sorry episode would have lacked the sensa-
tionalist ring of a crack bust. So its under-
standable (hat Government-issue crack
was the abused substance of choice.

Admittedly, none of this was good form
for a mayor who was preaching to kids reg-
ularly about the evils of drug taking. Had
he been an advocate of drug legalization, a
sensible position, then he would at least not
have been guilty of hypocrisy. As itis, if the
charges are true, he’s a major asshole who
abused his position as a much-needed role
model for ghetto youth. Bar veteran
of the civil rights movement, and if he
couldn't get his act together, the ethical
course was Lo resign quietly and pursue his
ures in private. There is a sacred
st of office that ought not to be trifled
with. Harrumph and all that.

But what about the ethics of the Feds
who tripped him up by hounding an old
girlfriend with troubles enough of her
own? Lets review just how, and why, the
sultry Moore happened to be in the Vista
hotel that night. Just weeks before, Moore
was driving in North Hollywood, С
nia, late on New Year's Day, headlights off,
when a local cop pulled her over and
booked her on suspicion of driving under
the influence of alcohol. A computer check
revealed that Moore was wanted by the
FBI on a mate T

victed drug dealer Charles Lewis, had
that she knew Barry only casually and t
she herself did not use drugs. Now FBI
gents escorted her ло Washington,
threatening long jail time and separation
from her three children. She collapsed
nd turned in her former friend. W!
on here—that parent-
ned only by the act of

personal betrayal?

Just what are the priorities of this na-
tion's crime fighters, who will expend so
much effort and so many man-hours going
afier Barry on a misdemeanor offense
while more serious felonies abound? “I
find it absolutely amazing,” said Robert
Luskin, the former Justice Department
lawyer instrumental in writing the depart-
's undercoverinvestigation guide-
ү not aware оГ any undercover
operation of this magnitude carried out
with the goal of obtaining a misdemeanor
charge.”

The Feds had been after Barry on one
trail or another since his first term as may-
or in the late Seventies—not because he
was deemed a drug kingpin but because
they wanted a way to get Ihe mayor out of
office. The chief prosecutor admitted as
much when he implied that if Barry would
step down as mayor, he might get off with a
on the wrist. For eight years, accord-
ing to The Washington Post, *agents sorted
throughthernayor's American Expressbills,
staked out his house, examined his signa-
ture on city contracts, analyzed his bank
accounts, checked his tax returns, verified
his campaign contributions, even subpoe-
naed two pairs of shoes he denied receiv-
ing from a city contractor." And they got
nothing on Barry, who, given that degree
of scrutiny, must be far cleaner than most
men of influence, including junk-bond
salesmen and savings-and-loan executives.

In the end, a true zealot appeared t0
superintend this witch-hunt. It took the
appointment of Reagan Adm "
White House deputy counsel Jay B.
Stephens as the US. Attorney in Washing-
ton to nail Barry. Described by The Wall
Street Journal a
Stephens brought the риги
cism of the drug tothe
termed the mayors arrest a
that “would start to change the publi
che.” He called drug use by a city offi

that ^it is important that the city have the
type of moral leadership that can heal the
wounds of drugs, violence and public cor-
ruption." All that [rom three alleged tokes
on a Government-supplied pipe.
Outbursts of that sort moved conserva-
tive New York (concluded on page H4)

STRONG а СТ ER

LIGHT BEER WITH A

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5

nor кич QUINCY JONES

a candid conversation with pop’s master builder
about rock, rap, racism and his thriller of a career

“Back on Ihe Block,” the latest hit album
from Quincy Jones, may not sell as many
copies as “Thriller” the all-time record-set-
ting megahit he produced with Michael Jach-
son in 1982. И may not have the global
impact of “We Ave the World,” his superstar-
studded 1985 musical event, which raised
850,000,000 to fight hunger: It may not earn
him another Grammy award, though he has
won 20 of them since 1963. But “Back on the
Block" is certainly the most historic achieve-
ment of Jones's extraordinary career. Its also
the story of his life.

A virtuoso blending of bebop, soul, Gospel,
rhythm-and-blues, Brazilian and African
music, rap and fusion, its what one critic
called “a virtual crash course in black popu-
lar music of the 20th Century.” In his liner
notes for the album, Jones wrote that his
intention was “to bridge generations and
traverse musical boundaries.” Actually, that’s
what he has been doing ever since he broke
into show business al the age of 15 as a trum-
pet player and arranger for Lionel Hampton.

In the 42 years since then, he has com-
posed, arranged or produced hits for almost
every major name in the music business, from
such big-band greats as Count Basie and
Dizzy Gillespie to modern-day superstars
such as Frank Sinatra. He is also credited

with helping catalyze the phenomenon of
"crossover" by bringing black music across
the color line into the musical mainstream. As
a vice-president of Mercury Records in the
early Sixties, Jones was the first black execu-
tive ata major label, and in 1963, he began a
second career in Hollywood, where he became
the first black to reach the top rank of film
composers, with 38 pictures to his credit.

His biggest professional setback came in
1978, when he served as musical director ој
"The Wiz," a multimillion-dollar flop—but
the project solidified a friendship with 20-
year-old Michael Jackson (who starred as the
Scarecrow) and launched a series of creative
collaborations that culminated in “Thriller”
and "Ме Are the World.” His first excursion
as a movie producer, in 1985, elevated him
into the big leagues almost overnight. He per-
suaded Steven Spielberg to coproduce and di-
rect “The Color Purple,” cast Oprah Winfrey
and Whoopi Goldberg in the roles that won
them Oscar nominations, then supervised the
entire producton—and, for good measure,
wrote the score.

But the strain of living in all those fast
lanes, along with the disintegration of his
third marriage, to actress Peggy Lipton,
drove Jones into a nervous collapse thai
stirred memories of the near-fatal anen-

“АЙ the brilliance that had been building
inside Michael Jackson just erupted. One
might, the speakers in the studio actually
burst into flames. First time 1 saw anything
like that in forty years in the business.”

"Кару no fad, man. And its not just a new
kind of music. Its a whole new subculture
thats been invented by the disenfranchised.
When you have no place in society, you
say, “Fuck й, we'll мат our оит"

rysm—a hemorrhaging artery in the brain—
that had stricken him in 1974 after a similar
bout of overwork. This time, he took a
monihlong “spiritual leave of absence” in
Tahiti and returned “in control of my life for
the first time.”

His eclectic album “Back on the Block” is
the harvest of that sabbatical. So is his new
company, an entertainment conglomerate
partnering Jones and his chief executive,
Kevin Wendle, in a co-venture with Time
Мате у Bob Pittman, а former MTV execu-
tive. And so is the list of honors that have
come his way since then—among them this
years Soul Train Heritage Award, which
turned into a star-studded 57 th-birthday trib-
ule to “Q,” as hes known to his hundreds of
friends and admirers in the business; a Man
of the Year citation at the annual conference
of the international music-business associa-
tion MIDEM; and, most recently, а pres-
ligious Legion of Honor award from the
government of France, where he is considered
ап American national treasure.

Paris was one of the settings for this con-
versation with Alex Haley, whom he met in
1975 while the author was writing “Roots.”
Jones was enthralled by the stories Haley told
him about his ancestors, and when David
Wolper asked Jones to score the first 12 hours

r M

PHOTOGRAPHY BY ARNY FREYTAG
“l say it lakes a strange kind of mind to find
fault with a project that raised fifty million
dollars to feed the hungry. Anybody who
wants lo throw stones at that can get up off
his ass and go do something better.”

PLAYBOY

of the television miniseries, he and Haley be-
came collaboralors as well as friends. When
we called Haley with this assignment, he was
in the final stages of completing his long-
awaited book “Henning,” but ils a measure of
their friendship that he agreed to take time
out for this very special “Playboy Interview.”
He reports:

"On а desk in Quincy Jones business
office in Los Angeles sits the biggest Rolodex
Гус ever seen. It contains, I'm told, the names
of more than 5000 friends and associates in
the entertainment industry. I believe и. There
probably isn't a heavier hitter in the business,
or one more universally admired.

“Whatever Quincys doing, whether it's
work or play, he does it with his whole being.
And he seems to keep busy pursuing one or
the other, in grand style, just about 24 hours a
day. My interview with him, appropriately,
began on a private jet en route to Manzani-
llo, Mexico, and continued beside his pool at
the spectacular Las Hadas resort hotel, be-
tween takes for a feature-length documentary
of his life, ‘Back on the Block with Quincy
Jones, scheduled for theatrical release in
September. Our next session followed а memo-
rable dinner prepared by Quincys French-
Brazilian chef at lus showplace Bel Air home,
а stones throw from the Reagans.

“A third session took place last summer in
Paris during the bicentennial Bastille Day
extravaganza, the orchestral highlight of
which Quincy had been imported to conduct.
The mayor of Paris headed a parade of Quin-
суз old friends, who visited him in his flower-
banked suite at the Ritz, And after the
festivities, before returning home, he and his
traveling companions—Time Warner co-
C.E.O. Steve Ross and his wife, Courtney,
who was producer of the documentary—de-
cided to stop off in London for dinner with
Quincy’ pal Dustin Hoffman. As we say m
Tennessee, that’s tall colton. But somehow,
through it all, success hasn't spoiled Quincy
Jones. I wanted to know why. So that’s where
we began.”

PLAYBOY: “Lifestyles of the rich and fa-
mous” is a phrase that could have been
coined to describe the way you live, Qui
but you don't seem to have lost you
ty. Why not?
JONES: | never forget where I came from,
man. When I was seven, 1 remember my
brother Lloyd and I went to spend the
summer with my grandmother in
Louisville, Kentucky She was an ex-slav

but she'd moved up in the world since
then. The lock on the back door of her lit-
tle house was a bent nail, and she had a
coal stove and kerosene lamps for light,
nd she used to tell us to go down to the
ver in the evening and catch us a rat, and
we'd take that sucker hi
she'd cook it up lor supper.
with onions, and it tasted good, т;
you're seven years old and you don't know
ny better, everything tastes good to you.
That kind of memory makes you appreci-
ate everything that much more, because
from then on, no matter how good it gets,

you never take anything for granted. I've
had the whole range of experiences, from
rats to páté, and I feel lucky just to be alive,
PLAYBOY: Why do you say that
JONES: In the neighborhood where 1 was
born, on the South Side of Chicago—the
biggest ghetto in the world —we used to
watch teachers getting killed and pol
men shooting b in the ba
Every street was y, and ever
territory was run by a gang, and every-
body used to carry a little switchblade. If
Га stayed there, I'd have been gone by now.
Because nobody gets out, hardly.

PLAYBOY: But when you were ten, your fam-
ily moved to Bremerton, Washington, near
Seattle, What was it like ther
JONES: The opposite end of the spectrum.
My father and my mother had split up
back in Chicago, and we moved in with my
new stepmother and her three kids in a de-
cent neighborhood in this nice litle town
where he'd gouen a job as a carpenter
down at the naval shipyards. It took me а
few months before I realized 1 didn have
to carry my switchblade anymore. The
school I went to was like a model of multi-
racial integration, and the kids got along

“She used to tell us to
go down to the river
and catch us a rat.
She fried it with onions,

and it tasted good, man.”

together about as well as they do anywhere
in the world. But it's not like we moved to
neyland. There's no way you're going to
in America and not feel the
pangs of rac get that
hate stave from certain kinds of white peo-
ple, but that’s a daily experience from the
time you're two years old, and you learn to

PLAYBOY: When did you start getting inter-
ested in music?
JONES: When I was five or six, back in
Chicago. There was this lady named Lucy
Jackson who used to play stride pi
the apartment next door, and I listened to
her all the time right through the walls.
And we used to listen to the songs my oth-
er grandmother in St. Louis would play on
her old windup Victrola—Fats Waller,
Duke Ellington, Billy Eckstine, all the
greats. In Bremerton, 1 joined the school
с and the school band and lear ned
how to play drums, tuba, B-flat baritone
horn, French horn, E-flat alto horn, sousa-
phone and piano. I really wanted to learn
trombone, so I could march right behind
the drum majorettes. Then my father gave
me а trumpet of my ow and soon I was

g one of those red-and-white de
ad doo-wopping with my plunger
mute in the №
tween the band concerts
Gospel group, me and my friends would
be out рї i all the
because this was during World War
and Seattle had all these Army bases that
were the last stop-off before getting
shipped out to the Pacific, and that town
was jumpin’, man.

PLAYBOY: Where did you play those
JONES: A typical night for would be
from seven to ісі the Seaule Tennis
Club in our white tuxedos, playing Room
Full of Кому and all that hotsy-totsy stuff
for a totally white audi
thirty, we'd make the rounds of all the
black gerdown clubs, like the Reverend
Silas Groves's Washington Social and Edu-
cation Club, which was nothing but а
joint with strippers. Or to the Black
ип, where we played R&B for an incre
ble character named Bumps Blackwell,
who owned a meat market and a jewelry
е and a chain of taxicabs in addition to
heading up a band. He's the guy who dis-
covered Sam Cooke and Little Richard.
Bumpss band even played for Billie Holi-
day when she came to town, And we didn't.
just play horn for Bumps. We danced, we
sang, we did everything. We had two girl
four horns, a rhythm.
a male singer and two comedi-
I was me and a friend of minc. We
doubled as the comedy team of Methe-
drine and Benzedrine. We put on a hell of a
show. Anyway, around two ам. after blow-
ing with Bumps for a few hours, we'd wind
up down at the Elks Club playing bebop
for ourselves till five or six.
PLAYBOY: Didnt you meet Count
around that time?

JONES: Í met Basie when | was thirteen
years old, when he was pl the Palo-
mar Theater in Seattle. At that time, he
was the biggest and the best big-band lead-
er in the world, but he took me under his
wing, and we formed a relationship that
lasted the rest of his life. He was my uncle,
my father, my mentor, my friend—the
dearest man in the world. And his trumpet
man, Clark Terry, practically adopted me.
He taught me and talked to me and gave
me the confidence to get out there and see
what I could do on my own. These are the
guys who really trained me. They were my
idols as musicians, but even more impor-
as human
icd about
ing better than about getting over
PLAYBOY: You've said that Ray Charles was
other big carly influence on you. When
d you meet him?

ad singing in a

igs?

Basie

about fourteen. 1 went
over to Bumps's house one night,
year-old blind
singing Blowin

ve me

there he was thi
kid playing the pi
Ihe Blues Away. Не w
goose bumps. He al
apartment, he had all these women, he
owned four or five suits. He was doing

dy had his own

better than me, and he was blind, тап. So I just attached myself
to him, and he became like а big brother to me. Taught me how to
read and write music in Braille and how to voice horns and how
to deal with polytonality, and that opened up a golden door for
me, because I was fascinated with how all those instruments Га
learned how to play in the band, each of them with its own dis-
tinctive sound, could play their own individual variations on the
tune and yet interweave them all into the fabric of a song. And
from then on. I was hooked on the idea of orchestration and ar-
ranging,

PLAYBOY: But it was Lionel Hampton who gave you your first big
break. How did that happen?

JONES: I kept hanging out with his band whenever it was in town,
until finally, when I was fifteen. he gave me the chance to blow
trumpet and write some arrangements for the band. Well, that's
all the encouragement 1 needed to pack up and get on the bus.
Only, before we could pull out, his wife, Gladys. caught me on
board and yanked me back onto the street. “That boy's gonr
finish his schooling before he gets back on this bus,” she told
Hamp.

So | was highly motivated to finish school so 1 could go join that
band. And the moment I graduated from high school—and com-
pleted one-semester musical scholarships at Seattle University

nd Berklee College of Music in Boston—that's exactly what I
did. Because Lionel Hampton was a superstar back then. He had
the first rock-and-roll band in America—I'm talking about that
big-beat sound with the honking tenor sax and the screaming
high-note trumpet. Hamp was a showman. He even had us wear-
ing these outlandish purple outfits—matching coats and shorts
and socks and shoes and Tyrolean hats.

PLAYBOY: Weren't you embarrassed?

JONES: Mortified. But I didn't care, man, because I got to go to
New York with the band. I was eighteen, and it was like going to
heaven for me, because that's where all my idols were. Oscar Pet
tiford was like my big brother, and he introduced me to all of
them: Miles, Dizzy, Ray Brown, Charlie Parker, Thelonious
Monk, Charlie Mingus, all the bebop dudes. They were the new
generation of jazz musicians, and they thought it was unhip to be
too successful. They said, "We don't want to be entertainers. We
want to be artists. We want to explore." But when they went into
bebop, we lost some of our greatest warriors, because the public
rejected them and they didn't make a dime, not a dime. I mean,
they lived from day to day. And they went into this little cococ
and we ended up with a lot of lties—a lot of people in the
gutier, dying from heroin.

PLAYBOY: What was it like touring with Hampton's band?

JONES: lt was an education, and not just about music. After we
left New York, Hamp's band went on a long tour through the
South. seventy-nine one-nighters in a row in the Carolinas alone.
It was a grind. And every night was like going into a battle zone.
About two thirds of the way through the show, somebody out on
the dance floor would start a fight. and before the evening w
over, there'd be two or three stabbings. You got used to that kind
of thing.

What I didnt get used to was the discrimination. lt was on that
trip that I got my first real exposure to segregation in the raw.
and it just about blew my head apart. Every day and every night.
it kept hitting us in the face like a fist. It was like being in enemy
territory. The older guys had been on the road for thirty years,
and they d seen it all. They knew just what to say and what not to
say around white people down there, where you could stay and
where you couldnt stay, where you could eat and where you
couldn't eat. We'd show up in some towns and our white bus driv-
er would have to go get us sandwiches and bring them back
aboard, because there was no place we could eat. And once, in
Texas, we pulled into this little town around five in the morning
and there was an effigy of a black person with а rope around
his neck hanging from the steeple of the biggest church in
town. Man, that just fucked my mind up. I фат know how to
handle it.

But whenever it got to be 100 much for me, the older guys
would say, "Don't feel so bad. It's no different for Lena Horne or

Whose Underwear
Is Under There?

PLAYBOY

Sammy Davis or Harry Belafonte. They
may be big stars, but when they play Vegas,
they still got to eat in the kitchen, they can't
stay in the hotel where theyre working,
they can't even mingle out front with the
people who just paid to see them on the
stage.” Well, that didn't make me feel any
better. But thats the way it was in those
days. We've come a long way since then, but
back in the Fifties, if you wanted to be
treated like a person and appreciated for
your musical talent, the older guys said Eu-
rope was the place to go.
PLAYBOY: Was there less prejudice there?
JONES: Let's not get carried away, now.
You'll run into the same attitudes іп Eu-
rope as you'll find anywhere else in the
world. But in this country, jazz and blues
had always been looked down on as the
music of the brothel. In Europe, they
were mature enough to understand it from
the beginning for what it was: one of the
true o ns ever to come from
Amcrica.

PLAYBOY: You toured Europe with Hamp-
tons band in 1953. How did you go over?
JONES: We were a smash everywhere we
went, and while we were in Stockholm, I
also got the chance 10 compo:
and conduct four songs in a l
recording session for Art Farmer, Clifford
Brown and the Swedish All-Stars. After it
came out, the word about us spread like
wildfire all over Europe, and when we got
to Paris, they wanted us to record some
more albums. We were in Paris, I remem-
ber, when I got word from Jeri, my high
school sweetheart, that shed given birth to
a little girl named Jolie. We'd gotten mar-
ried before I left the States, and I didn't get
to see either one of them till 1 got back
home to New York. I quit the band to work
in the city as a free-lance arranger, so 1
wouldn't be on the road so much. But we
were 100 young то be married. let alone
raising kids, and so itnever worked out
PLAYBOY: Did you make it as 4n arranger in
New York?

JONES: Scuflled around awhile, arranging
for James Moody's band, but then ћ
Washington grabbed ahold of me and
asked me to start writing arrangements for
her. Dinah's material could get pretty
raunchy sometimes. One of the songs 1 ar-
ranged for her, I remember, was called /
Love My Tiombone Playing Daddy with His
Big Long Sliding Thing. 1 was ready to
move on in 1956 when George Avakian of
Columbia Records asked me to write a
rangements for the first album by a twenty-
year-old San Fr со track star named
Johnny Mathis. I told him yes, but before 1
had the chance to do it, Dizzy Gillespie
called and asked me to do all the arrange-
ments for a band that the State Depart-
ment wanted him to take on a good-vill
tour of the Middle East.

As it turned out, Am needed all the
good will it could get just then because of
the political situation in that part of the
world. We arrived in Turkey in the middle
of a crisis, and the same people who were

stoning the American embassy came [0
our concert at night. And after the concert,
they went rushing up to the stage and
grabbed Dizzy and we were scared to
death about what they were gonna do. But
they just picked him up on their shoulders
and cheered, man, like he was a hero.
When we showed up in Pakistan, they'd
never even seen a trumpet or a trombone,
but they responded to our music like it was
their own. We communicated with them
on a level that transcended language and
politics and cultural differences. It was on
that trip that I felt for the first time the real
power and universality of music as a bond
among people everywhere.
PLAYBOY: You've said that your next Eu-
ropean tours, in 1957 and 1958, were ma-
jor turning points in your life. In what
way?
JONES: The firstone was a gas, the second a
disaster. In 1957, I was asked to be the mu-
sical director of Barclay Records, a very in-
novative company in Paris that was run by
Eddie Barclay and Nadia Boulanger. Be-
fore she went into the record business, Na
dia had been the musical mentor to some
of the greatest composers in the world—
guys like Aaron Copland and Igor Stravin-
sky—and I сат begin to tell you the
lessons she taught me, not only about music
but about living. lt was through her that I
got to meet incredible people such as
James Baldwin, Richard Wright, Francoise
Sagan, Josephine Baker, Pablo Picasso,
even Porfirio Rubirosa. That year was
wonderful.
PLAYBOY: And the next was a bummer?
JONES: They say you learn more from your
setbacks than you do from your succes:
so I guess I should consider it a triumph. 1
was asked to become musical director for a
Harold Arlen—Johnny Mercer musical
called Free and Easy, and we took it on the
road to Europe with my band. The plan
was to tour the Continent for а few months
and then pick up Sammy Davis on the way
home to star in the show on Broadway. But
when we got to Paris, the Algerian crisis
had practically paralyzed the country. and
the show folded, and we got stranded in
Europe for the next ten months. Every
week, I had to scuffle to cover the five-thou-
sand-dollar payroll, and I wound up hock-
ing all my publishing companies to cover
the nut. The pressure of trying to keep ev-
erybody afloat finally got so bad that one
night, 1 seriously considered grabbing a
handful of pills and just checking out. But
that very night, Irving Green of Mercury
Records, who was a dear friend of mine,
telephoned and gave me the faith and
courage | needed to hang in there, and I
did, until we finally scraped together
enough to get home on.
PLAYBOY: How long did it take you to get
back on your feet?
JONES: It was almost seven years before I
bought myself out of hock. But I went back
to work from the day I got off the boat in
New York. Started composing and arrang-
ing again for Dinah, who told me to keep

an eye on the Reverend C. L. Franklin's
young daughter, Aretha. "She's the one, I
promise you," Dinah told me. And she wa
Lorganized my own band to play with Billy
Eckstine, Johnny Ray and Peggy Lee at
Basin Street East, and we went to the Mon-
terey Jazz Festival. By this time, I was
beginning to get noticed. In 1961, I won Jet
magazines award for best arranger and
composer—and my first Grammy nomina-
tion, for arranging Let Ihe Good Times Roll
for Ray Charles.

"That's when I got an offer from Irving
Green at Mercury to join him as an A&R
man. AKR stands for Artists and. Reper-
toire—which means уоште in charge of
the people you pick and what they sing. So
I had to put on a suit and go in to work ev-
ery day at nine, but I got to do what I love,
and I learned a lot about the business side
of the music industry because lrving
Green took me to school, man. 1 was pro-
ducing people like Dizzy, Sarah Vaugha
Art Blakey, and they were getting great
records. I was also starting to make good
money—but I didn't realize at first that
other people who did what I did were get-
ting a percentage of the royalties on top of
their salaries, and that's. where the real
money was. But I found out real fast, and
that’s when 1 decided to get into pop mu-

sic, because 1 was tired of producing jazz
music that got great reviews, only nobody

was buying it. So I produced а вопр ЛУ
My Party—for Lesley Gore and it went up
to number one on the charts. Е did lots of
others with her, and they were all hits.
Then I started to conduct for Sinatra, and
we made a record together, and we worked
the Sands in Vegas.

PLAYBOY: Didn't you get m.
around that time—in 19652
JONES: That's right—to a beautiful Swed-
ish model named Ulla. 1 met her on a busi-
ness trip to Stockholm. She was only
nineteen, so | dont know why I thought it
would work out. But I was thirty-two—old
enough to think I was finally ready to settle
down—and I was determined to be a real
husband this time. So after knowing her
for three weeks, 1 married Ulla. Three
wecks later, 1 knew wed made a mistake,
but I didn't want to fail at marriage а sec-
опд time, and I wanted desperately to have
а real home and a mother for my kids—
something Га never really known when 1
was growing up. So we had two children
and stayed together for seven years, but
finally, we both felt so trapped that each of
us was blaming the other for why we
weren't happy together, and it was tearing
both of us to pieces—and the children,
too. So one Christmas, she went home to
Sweden with the kids, and she called to tell
me, "I'm not coming back" Both kids
came to live with me later, and we've got a
antastic relationship today, but that was
one of the low points of my life, man.
PLAYBOY: Ironically, it was during those
years that you moved to Los Angeles and
established. yourself as one of the most
successful film-score composers in the

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PLAYBOY

industry. What made you decide to quit the
record business and try movies?
JONES: И had been a dream of mine since I
was fifteen, and 1 finally got my chance. 1
had scored a film for the Swedish director
Arne Sucksdorff, and then Sidney Lumet
asked me to write the music for The Pawn-
broker, which got me an ofler to score
Mirage, my first picture for a major
Hollywood studio. So I came out to L-A.,
and the people at Universal freaked out
when they got a look at me, because they
didnt know I was black. I don't think
they'd seen many blacks around there, ex-
cept maybe in the kitchen, and they tried
to bail out of it. But Henry Mancini who
wasa friend of mine—told them, “Hey, fel-
las, this is the Twentieth Century. Dont be
stupid. And don't strangle the baby in the
crib—he can handle it." And I did. After
that, it got casier, and 1 really started
cranking them out, maybe seven or eight a
ycar. Thanks to Benny Carter, who wrote
the music for M Squad, I got to do the mu-
sic for a few TV scrics—including Iron-
side—and that led to movies like In the
Heat of the Night and In Cold Blood and
Goldie Hawn's first picture, Cactus Flower.
And all of Bill Cosby's carly shows—fifty-
six episodes of a series starring him as a
high school coach and twenty-six episodes
of a variety show.

But by 1969, I wanted to go back in the
studio and record something that was de-
signed to be listened to as a piece of
not as background for another medi
and the first album I produced, Walking in
Space, won a Grammy. And two ycars later,
1 won another one.

PLAYBOY: Wasn't
you got marricd again
JONES: Yes. My daughter Jolie introduced
me at a party to a very elegant and attrac-
tive lady named Peggy Lipton, who hap-
pened to be an actress. She had been
starring in The Mod Squad for several
ycars, and she was fed up with the busi-
ness, and that was very attractive го те,
alter having met every ambitious young
starlet in Los Angeles. Peggy was very sen-
ve and intelligent, and she was from a
very solid family background, with these
wonderful parents who had been married
for something like thirty-seven years. Well,
the idea of two people being together for
thirty-seven years was totally alien to my
experience—and that was another attrac-
tion. Maybe it would rub off on us if ше got
married. So we did, and we had two chil-
dren, and we stayed together for twelve.
years, and for a long time, it was every-
thing I hoped it would be.

PLAYBOY: Your three wives have been white
Have you taken any heat for that?

JONES: From both sides. But it was never a
choice 1 made on account of color. You just
never know who you're going to fall in love
with. I love ice cream, man, and I dont
care if its French vanilla, chocolate chip,
maple walnut, lemon sherbet or black cher-
ry. When I look at a woman, race is the last
thing I'm thi bout. [rs the last thing

nusic,

some time alter that that

I think about when I look at anybody, un-
less they're looking at me that way. And my
kids are the same way about и. They're
all of mixed blood. but they choose to
think of themselves as black, and they're
proud of it—not because they dont want to
be white but because they relate most
deeply to the rich heritage of black culture,
with all the heartache and all the joy th
go along with it

PLAYBOY: You were at the top of your pro-
fession in 1974 when you suffered a mas-
sive aneurysm t Imost
What do you think brought it с
JONES: | was pushing myself too hard, as
usual. I'd been up three days working 4
I was at my home in Brentwood, in bed
with my wife, when all of a sudden, 1 felt
this blinding pain, like somebody had
blown a shotgun through my brain. It was
just the wor n I'd ever felt in my whole

led you.

life, and 1 was screaming, and 1 didn't
know what was happening to me. Peggy
called the paramedics, but by the time they
got there, I had blacked out and gone into
a coma. They thought it was a heart attack
and my wile said, "He's strong as a mule,
that can't be it.” And she called my doc-
tor, Elsie Georgie, who said, "I think 1
know what it is, but I hope it’s not too lat
and she took me down to the hospital for
spinal tap and, sure enough, she was right:
Td had an aneurysm. The main artery го
my brain had popped and blood was
pouring into my brain, which had swollen
up so big they had to wait eight days before
they could operate on me. Finally; they did,
and I woke up and I was still alive.

That was the moment I realized for the
first time that D didnt have a three-
pronged cord plugged into my body that 1
could turn on at any time, whenever 1

wanted. Га never imagined that | could
fall apart like that. And coming through
all that—there were actually two aneu
rysms and two operations a month apa
being blessed enough to come through all
that alive, it really was a miracle
PLAYBOY: You didn't go back to work for
several months after the aneurysms. Had
they affected your thought processes?
JONES: I was afraid to find out. So for a
long time, I didnt even try to work. I was
о very weak from the su
finally, 1 was faced with а deci
would put my recovery and my courage to
the test. I had a commitment to tour Japan
with a small band and I wasnt sure I
should risk it, but Elsie Georgie told me,
“You're anemi
now, you'll never be OK. So go.”

But the surgcon who operated on me
warned me not to play the trumpet. He

‚ but if you baby yourself.

had put a clip on my artery to keep it
closed, and he told me that Га blow off that
clip and kill myself if I tried to blow that
horn. I didn't believe him, of course, and 1
decided to take the tour, and I started
blowing the horn, and one night, I hit one
of those high notes and I felt something
crack inside, like my head was gonna break
right open. I was scared to death, and I
went to the doctor and, sure enough, I'd al-
most blown off the clip. Well, the doctor
didn't have to warn me again. I stopped
playing the trumpet and I had to leave the
band.

PLAYBOY: How long did it take you to go
back to work as a producer?

JONES: Not long. Surviving a second time
made me realize that I didn't have any-
thing to be afraid of—except maybe giv-
up on myself. So 1 got together with
two of the guys who'd gone on the tour

The dress was chiffon,
the stockings were silk, |
and а martini was the

height of fashion.

There

$ never been a time when
fashion was invisible, Yet never a time

it so obvious as the 1920$.

These were the early days of great

ce the fashion

designers who still influe

industry Their bold interpretations of

the art deco style set the world on fire.

Perhaps it was a reaction to
the sorrow and sacrifi
of war, Itscemed ev-
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acqua

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Viewing the latest

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listening to jazz on a gramophone were
all fashion statements unto themselves.

Even ordering the right cocktail was

part of fashion. And in the 19205 noth-

Gilbey’. The Authentic Gin.

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Today fashion is just as

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the same way.
Gilbey. Good
taste never goes

out of style.

with me—the Johnson brothers, who had a
t sound on gu nd bass—and pro-
duced a record with them. We wound up
with four hits in a row, and there I was,
smack dab back in the record business. It
was in the middle of all this that I was at a
party in L-A. and ran into this beautiful
brother from San Francisco who was wri
ng this book about the story of his f
and the history of black people
ca, all the way back through slavery to
Africa. He called it Roots, and it was just
about the most moving and powerful story
Га ever heard. Well, it so happened that at
the time, 1 was on a journey of my own, do-
ing research on the evolution of black mu-
sic. so ] felt like it was fated that you and I
should meet, Alex.

PLAYBOY: Is it [air to say that you were fa-
natic about historical authenticity in scor-
ng Roots with your African collaborators?
JONES: Lena Mbulu and С

ng to tell
e il was, trying to rediscover a heritage
that was taken away from us. African mi
had always been regarded in the West
as primitive and savage, but when you take
the time to really ou see that it's
às structured. and sophisticated as Eu-
ropean classical music, with the same basic
components as youll find in a symphony
orchestra—instruments that are plucked,
instruments that are beaten and instru-
ments that are blown with reeds. And it's
music from the soil powerful, elemental.
Lile-lorce music. Composers from Bizet to
Stravinsky have drawn on African in-
fluences. And in slave-ship times, it started
spreading into the New World, from Brazil
ll the way up through Haiti to Cuba,
‘ough the West Indies, until some of the
and New
п influence
ad assimilated
with other sounds along the way, but it was
still strong enough that in 1692, the Vir-
а colony decided to ban the drum, be-
the slaves used it as a means of
communication, and that was threatening
to the plantation owners. But that didn't
stop the slaves: They started making music
with hand claps and foot stomps, anything
to keep that spirit alive. The slaves weren't
lowed to practice th 1 religions, ei-
ther, but the black Ch churches be-
came the keepers of the flame
music in America. From Gospel, blues,
jazz, soul, R&B, rock and roll, all the w
to rap, you can trace the roots stra
back to Africa.
PLAYBOY: During the five ye
you produced a string
Khan, George B
Donna Summer. And you began а collabo-
a with Michael Jackson that culm

iow it was going to be
JONES: | knew from the fi
in the stud

ood
straight up on my arms. That's a sure sign,

PLAYBOY

never once been wrong, All the
brilliance that had been building inside
Michael Jackson for twenty-five years just
erupted. 118 like he was suddenly trans-
formed from this gifted young man into a
dangerous, predatory animal. Ud known
Michael since he was twelve years old, but it
was like seeing and hearing him for the
first time. I was electrified, and so was ev-
erybody else involved in the project.

That energy was contagious, and we had
it cranked so high one night that the
speakers in the studio actually overloaded
id burst into flames. First time | ever saw
anything like that in forty years in the
business. And that's just what the album
did when it hit the charts. Biggest-selling
album in the history of music hyped by the
bigyestselling video
of all time—a four-
teen-minute film
that had the impact
of hit movie.
never been
anything like it.
PLAYBOY: Jackson
has a reputation for
eccentricity that ri-
vals the brilliance of
his creative talents.
Are both justified?

and

JONES: Theres по
question that he's
brilliant—the most

gifted composer
and performer in

popular music to-
day But I think it
trivializes Michael

to call him eccen-
tric. Hes an incredi-
bly rich and
complex human be-
ing with both the
wisdom of an
eighty-five-year-old
sage and the magi-
cal, childlike curios-
ity and wonder of a
Peter Pan. And the
intensity of his cre-
ative energy is awe-
some, like a force of
nature.

PLAYBOY: We've
heard that you work yourself up into a
kind of fever pitch when you're composing
and producing.

JONES: Well, 1 do have a tendency to be-
come obsessed. When I've got a creative
mode going with my composing partners,
Rod Temperton and Siedah Саттей-І
don't want you to get the idea I do this all
alone—my mind gets so fired up that I
cant turn it off and go to sleep at night. 1
can actually hear a song in my mind, com-
pletely orchestrated from start to finish
before we even go into the studio with пи
sound enginecr, Bruce Swedien, to record
it. But I've got to wait until the last minute
to be at ту best. It's the fever of the
recording session that gets my juices going,

and I ride it straight through to the end.
PLAYBOY: That's the way you recorded We
Are the World, wasn't it—in one long
marathon session?

JONES: We had to. With all those superstars
involved, it was like organizing D to
get them all in the same studio on the same
day We had only ten hours to do the whole
thing, and we had to get it right in one ses-
sion, because there wasn't going to be a
second one. Lionel [Richie] and Michael
and I knew all the things that could go
wrong, so we planned it right down to
where everybody in the chorus would be
standing and where every microphone
would be positioned so that we'd pick up
each voice distinctly And we didn't know
what to expect with all those egos in the

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same room together. But they must have
checked them at the door, because the
mood in the studio was like a living em-
bodiment of the idea behind the song. As
спе after another showed up— Tina Tur-
ner, Bob Dylan, Bruce Springsteen, Stevie
Wonder, Ray Charles, just about all the top
people in the business—the voltage in that
studio kept ng and rising. For the first
hour, they were signing autographs for
each other. And that spirit of brotherhood
communicated itself very vividly on the
sound track and in the video.

y to people who

JONES: I say it takesa strange kind of mind

to find fault with a project that raised hfiy
ks

са

million dollars to feed the hungry. Т
to Harry Belafonte, who planted the s
for the whole project. and to Ken
who got it off the ground, We Are the World.
raised the public consciousness about
world hunger. and that helped push the
Government into coming up with millions
more. Bob Geldof's Live Aid show paved
the way, but We Are the World helped trig-
ger a whole series of fund-raising events,
like Hands Across America and Farm Aid
and Comic Relief, that woke the kids up
from their I-me-mine Yuppie mentality
and got them involved in са bout
what happens to somebody else for a
change Anybody who wants to throw

stones at that can get up off his ass and go
do something bet-
still

ter, There's
plenty of sta
Afri

megahits as Thriller
and We Are the
World, do you feel
any pressure to hit a
home run with ev-
ery record?

JONES: You cant do
that, because the
business we're in as
human beings is the
efforts business. God
is the only one in the
results business. All
we can do is the best
we can. If you start
thinking about sales
while you're making
music, man, youll
short-circuit your
brain and the music

wont have a chance
of being any good

PLAYBOY: You made a
big reach when you
took on the role of
coproducer for The
Color Purple

How
to

JONES: When Peter

Guber brought me
Alice Walker's book to read, it was such a
powerful experience for me that 1 could
see it unfolding like a movie right inside
my mind, and I knew that I had to bring
that vision to r So I asked Steven
Spielberg to direct it, because he's one of
the finest film makers we've ever seen, and
The Color Purple deserved the best there
is. 1 knew there would be a certain black-
ness that would be missing, and I took a lot
of flak from some people for picking a
white director, but I think the results more
than justified my Faith in him.

But it was probably the most difficult
and taxing project I've ever worked on. It
should have taken about a year to produce
the movie, but Steven's other commitments

made it necessary to get the whole thing
done in five months, and then I had to hole
up with my crew to write an hour and fift
four minutes of music for it in just six
weeks. Well, somehow I got it all done, and
the picture won eleven Oscar nominations
that year. But the whole experience took a
ible toll on me. And there were a lot of
other pressures going on in my personal
the same t
PLAYBOY:
JONES: For a long time, Peggy and I had
been drifting apart. With so much of her
life going into my career and my family, I
guess she kind of lost track of herself
somewhere along the way, and I'm sure I
could have been much more sensitive and
auentive 10 her needs. But by the time I
was ready to, it was 100 late.
PLAYBOY: All this undoubtedly contributed
10 your collapse in 1986 with what the
newspaper accounts called “adrenal syn-
drome.” What were the symptoms?
JONES: Memory lapses, lack of c
tion, irritability, sleeplessness, ev
And finally. I ju
drome
think that was just kind of a fancy name
for nervous breakdown. I asked him what
to do, and he told me to pull the plug and
get away, go straight back to nature. So
Marlon Brando offered me his place i
Tahiti, and I took him up on it. Alice Walk-
er gave me some spiritual books—Rays of
the Dawn and The Essene Gospel of Peace—
to take along with me. I thought these in-
trospective books would help me dig inside
was really going on. I
long talk with myself and
ne, maybe even build a
platform that I could grow on for the rest
of my life.
PLAYBOY: Did you lind what you were look-
ng for in Tahi
JONES: | think I did. But I got а lot of help.
and I needed all I could get, because I was
in such bad shape, I was as helpless as a ba-
by It was just me and thirteen Tahitians on
sland. They devoted themselves to
ing me better. and they knew just how
to do it. They fed me what they ate them-
selves. They would pick a papaya right off.
the tree and cut it up and then serve it on a
coconut shell, dressed just like a chef

aw fish right out of the ocean.
And that’s all I ate, or felt like
there.
All the beauty of Tahiti was right outside
y door, but I would have stayed in my
oom all the time if they hadn't come and
taken me outside. One of the cooks would
take me on long walks with him and tell те
а its of the ancient Tahitians.
He told me, "Don't you worry, everythings
gonna be all right, because I've connected
you t0 the coconut r
you're here." And this very talented writer
and sculptor who called himself Hi
Bobby came by and took me down to this
1 pool that was filled with these

huge moray eels—some of them big
enough to take your head ofl—and we s;
there and watched while this guy went in
the water with them and fed them right
out of his hand. Another time, Bobby
helped his friend's wife deliver her baby
right there at home, and they were such
close, loving friends that she gave him the
placenta and the umbilical cord as a gift
lor birthing the baby, and he planted them
underneath his window.

What I'm trying to tell you is that this
was a magical place. These people were
connected 10 the natural world around
them, and the world inside them, in
had never known was possible and cant
explain even now. but I know that just be-
ing there with them began to heal me. Not

physically but spiritually, Because whatev-
er was wrong with me had just struck me
down and left me for dead. 1 felt utterly
drained, vacant, empty, like my soul had
left my body. I stopped looking in the mi
ror, because it was like looking at some-
body I didnt know—a zombie—and 1 was
id to look at anybody else without my
sunglasses on. because I didn't want them
to see that I wasn't there

Then, one night, this sweet, beautiful
girl named Vaea—she was а painter—
looked into my eyes and said, “Your kun-
dalini is gone." 1 didn't know what she was
talking about, so she explained that ac-
cording to Eastern philosophy, your kun-
dalini is the core of your sexual energy, the
core of your whole being. And mine was

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gone. But she said there was an ancient
cure, and two of her friends came to my
bungalow with this paste that comes from
the bark of a tree, and they made me lie
down and they snatched off my clothes and
put the salve all over my back, Then they
wrapped me all up
in gauze and sat me in this big tub on a
wooden block. Beside the tub, they had
this huge pot full of herbs that had been
cooking in water for about three hours,
and they put this big towel over my head so
that it hung off me like a tent, and they be-
gan pouring this stcaming-hot stuff over
me right through the towel, just like a
homemadc sauna.

Well, I started to inhale, and I'm telling
you, I never felt anything like that in m
life. That vapor went cleansing and heal-
ing its way right through my body into my
very soul, and by the time I came out of
there, I felt like a brand-new person—like
I'd been reborn. I was still fragile, and for
a long time, I couldn't handle noise ог
traffic or crowds or even television, but I
knew I was whole again. And that for the
rest of my life, I would be heading down
another path.

PLAYBOY: In what direction?

JONES: Toward the center. When I was
young, I lived on the run, trying to make
sure I wasn't missing anything. But I kept
running into myself coming from the op-
posite direction—and һе didnt know
where he was going, either. It took me a
long time to learn that the only thing I was
missing was a good night's sleep That 1
couldnt keep living my life as if 1 were
running out of time. Because no matter
how much you manage to get done, you're
not ever going to finish everything you set
out to do.

Since I got back from Tahiti, I've learned
that the only way to keep my flame bright is
abandoning myself completely to every
moment I'm alive. 1 don't know whether ГИ
he here for another thirty years or another
thirty minutes, so I want to just inhale my
fe—smell the roses and the butter and
the seashore and everything else on the
planet that 1 dearly love. I want to share
that love with my six beautiful children—
Jolie, Rachel, Marti y the Third,
Rashida and Ki у friends
and the people who listen to my music, be-
cause what I'm trying to express in my
work is how I feel about life.

PLAYBOY: Your latest hit record, Back on the
Block, has been praised by critics for its
“ecum What inspired you to
bring together all the styles and periods of
black popular music in America and or-
chestrate them into a single album?

"hey belong together, man. 11% our
al legacy, like I was saying earlier,

like a mighty river flowing all the way from
the c

айе of civiliz: à down
the centuries to the black church
ica, which has been the mother
ship of black culture, musically and spir-
ly, ever since we came off the slave
ships. 1 want the kids to know where they

came from, to be proud of what we've con-
tributed to American music and American
culture. I'm talking about heart and soul,
man. What else is there?

PLAYBOY: Rap is one of the sounds on your
new album. Do you think из a fad or an
important new kind of music?

JONES: 115 no fad, man. And it's not just a
new kind of music. It's a whole new subcul-
ture that’s been invented by the disenfran-
chised. When you have no place in society,
you say, “Fuck it, we'll start our own.
erything from graffiti to break dan
popping and locking, hip-hop and now
rap—the voice that vocalizes hip-hop—
they're all symbols of a new culture that
comes directly from the street.

Rap is also a new kind of communica-
tion, The point is, what arc you trying to
communicate? The hard-ass groups say
they're just telling it like it is, but any
brother or sister can go out in the street in
the ghetto and see how it is. But once some-
body has put all that about what's happen-
ing to your ass into poetic terms, he’s got to
get some positive information going, We
got the diagnosis, so where is the prescrip-
tion? It’s easy to say blow the cops away
with an AK-47 and it’s all about bitches and
money and getting high, but thats just
talkin’ shit. It might be а popular stance
for kids to take, but its irresponsible and
it's disrespectful to the men and women of
the community for anybody to think that's
the way to be, because it sucks, and it’s de-
structive. We've got to find ways to give
people hope, help them put a value on
their own life.

Rap at its best does just that. И may be
profane and abrasive, but I think it's a very
powerful and positive force. And it's the
freshest thing that's happened musically in
thirty years. It's already popular in Hol-
land and Sweden and Italy and Germany,
even Tokyo, and I think it's just getting
started. Black music has always been the
prologue to social change. It was true in
the Fifties with modern jazz and rock and
roll, and I think rap isa sign of the kind of
changes that are sweeping the world today.
15 a forum to mobilize the people of the
street in a new direction—toward pride
and freedom and the elevation of the spir-
it—and that’s happening everywhere.
PLAYBOY: How do you feel about the rest of
the Top Forty music today?

JONES: Well, we've had great seasons, and
we've had drought scasons, and—apart
from rap— think we're in a drought sea-
son now. There are significant exceptions
in the case of a few individual performers,
of course, but I'm not stimulated by much
of what's happening right now. Most of
sounds homogenized. The problem is that
technology is driving a lot of the music
hats being recorded now. l'm not knock-
ig technology, mind you. It has opened
up all kinds of new horizons in pop music

ince 1953, vhen I wasinvolved in the very
t recording session with a new instru-
ment invented by a young guy named Leo
Fender. It was the electric bass, which,

along with the electric guitar, has become
the motor of rock and roll in the years
since then. And 1 remember one day in
1964, when I went to visit this eccentric i
ventor named Paul Beaver at his house
L.A., and he was sitting at this keyboard
with all kinds of wires coming out of it, and
he said, “Here, try this.” It sounded like a
piano on acid, man. It made sounds Га
never heard before, just totally blew me
nd I asked him what the hell it was.
“I call it a synthesizer,” he told те. Be
tween then and now, it’s had the same el
Ѓес on music that the jet plane has had on
air travel. And in my own work, its been
like enlarging the alphabet from twenty-
six letters to thirteen hundred.

The trouble is that electronics has the
dustry completely wired by now, to
usicians—and certainly
musicianship—are starting to be consid-
cred obsolete.

Take the drum machine. Drum n
ch mes don't have any human faults and
—they never miss the beat—and
о sophisticated that I swear you
couldn't tell one from the real thing with
your eyes dosed. It’s very seductive to just
let the machine do it; you don't have to
learn how to play. There’ just one prob-

dictable, totally incapable of originality:
And technology has been developed. or is
being developed, that will ma
to do the same thing with most of the other
instruments. And that scares me, пи
Eventually, we're going to have to reconcile
the relationship between humanity and
technology—and not just in the world of
music—because if we remove people from
the process, if we replace musicians with
technicians, if we can't tell anymore
whether it’s real or it's Memorex, we're go-
ing to lose the whole reason for making
musi the first place, which is to cele-
brate life.

PLAYBOY: Is that what you're goi n to keep
doing with your music? Celebra
JONES: As long as I've got Bach,
body. But not just with my music. I'm al-
ways going to low ng albums, for my-
sell and the people 1 love, and I've been
thinking about going on a tour. ГА like to
direct for Bobby De Niro. And I'm also
working on the book for a Broadway
show—a musical about dealing with your
dreams.

And that's just the tip of the iceberg. Im
in partnership now with a guy named Bob
who drcamed up the whole ide:
nd got it launched. It cost about

; when they
worth five hundred е
They wai
id no, he wanted to try something
and here we are, working together

A dear friend of mine, Steve Ross, the
co-C.E.O. of Time W:
the godfather of this whole venture, |
helped us form a new company, Quincy
(continued on page 164)

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a.
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AND T

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giving away upto 100 in-ground Bud
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And you could be one of the icky
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You can also get all kinds
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look for our display wherever you

әз Bud Dry. Who knows? You
may end up making a big
splash with your friends.

WHENIT COMESTO STAYING COOL, NOTHING BEATS A BUD.

FIGHTING
THE WRONG WAR

how the presidents war on drugs repeats the mistakes of vietnam

article By ROBERT STONE

ARELY DO we get a look at the process of history
through the promiscuous confusion of each days
news. Over the past year, however, events have moved

so dramatically that we've been able to see the thing itself.

From hour to hour, we've witnessed the unraveling of that

postwar world to which many of us grew up and in which

we've lived most of our lives.

If there is a unifying minor key, it is the abridgment of pos-

sibility for the superpowers, a suggestion that limits are be

set to the variety of their options for effective action. Against

history's landscape, it's possible to imagine the echoes of
Kiplings celebrated Recessional, the poem he wrote for
Queen Victoria's Diamond Jubilee in 1897.

Farcalled, our navies melt ашау;
On dune and headland sinks the fire:
Lo, all our pomp of yesterday

15 one with Nineveh and Tyre!
Judge of the Nations, spare us yet,
Lest we forget—lest we forget!

One need not be religious to understand that fear of the

Lord, so to spea
sentiments i

s the beg
the ре
at à patriot as ever was, was пари

y pointing
ns must be prepared to outlive their superpower

status, and that a decent sense of proportion is a
опа! asset.

priceless na-

The poem concludes:

For heathen heart that puts her trust

In reching tube and iron shard,

All valiant dust that builds on dust,
And guarding, calls not Thee to guard,
For frantic boast and foolish word-
Thy mercy on Thy People, Lord!

asingly now, our concerns will be with domestic issues
and our politics will divide itself around them. One of the

most visible of our dome
it's so visible and so easily politicized, the present Administra-
on has seized on и as a means of ingratiating itself with a
pub has reason to believe is naive and easy to manipulate.
not to say that George Bush, William Bennett and the
rest are not genuinely concerned about the plight of addicts.
It's just that the drug issue, with its sumptuary aspect and sug-
gestion of swarthy foreign villainy, ideally lends itself to
filibustering.

Why do we have this dr

ic problems is drug-taking. Beca

g problem? Why is there so much
more drugging y n in other indus-
trial nations? No one has ever answered these questions. Has
one ever tried? In any case, part of the price we have had
то pay for the relentless social and economic changes since
World War Two has been a certa

this country d

gon

n amount of poverty and a
certain degree of nihilism. In the US., poverty and nihilisn
find their expression in violent crime and drug-taking. The
problem is real enough and touches many of our people. И
must be taken seriously. This, I submit, has not been done,
n by those who imagine they are doing it

In place of a serious examination of the subject, we have

something called the war on drugs. And what is the object of
this war? Why, presumably, victory. And what is victory? A
drug-free America. These words are vehicles of illusion. They
gest the same infantilizing of public discourse that made
the last Presidential election campai i

n such

What we seem to be currently decla
get our people to stop taking drugs, well put them all in jail.
IF we can't get the rest of the world to stop selling us drugs,
well put il, too! Never mind that, short of turning the
western third of the count

ng is that if we сат

nto a penal colony, there is no

erate (he numbers of people involved with illegal
drugs. Forget the fact that, sare incapable
g with universal prosecution. What matter that our
ntry, like no other country in the world, teems with high-
ed criminal lawyers who specialize in springing contra-
bandists? Ignore the fact that our constitutional guarantees

way to in

n reality, our cou

ILLUSTRATION BY TOM PATRICK

PLAYBOY

against improper search and seizure are
the most restrictive in the world and that
our scrutiny of defendants’ rights is the
most rigorous (with the right lawyers on
the job). Paradox? The suggestion of
some contradiction? Not in God's coun-
ty. The Administration behaves as
though its resources to combat the illegal
drug market were limitless and its op-
tions endless. That is simply not so.
Apparently, it is once again necessary
to haul out George Santayana's old bad
news: “Those who ca mber the
past are condemned to repeat it" In this
war on drugs, we sometimes seem to be
sleepwalking into a repetition of the most
disastrous event of our recent history:
the war in Vietnam.
1f we intend to mai
well-being in the presa
world, it is essential that we exam
days events against the background of
past errors. Twenty-five years ago, be-
cause the limits of national power were
not understood in Washington, our
country embroiled itself in a struggle
that poisoned its internal political civility
and damaged its international prestige
forever. Those who remember the Amer-
ican war in Vietnam will recall the pe-
culiar lack of insight with which it was
conducted. It seemed to express a com-
mitment to ignorance—a refusal to con-
sider the realities ol postwar Asia but
also. more perversely. a refusal to consid-
er any limit to the effective possibilities of
American economic and military power.
"This refusal was the root of disaster
During that war, because our option
were taken to be limitless, no careful ex-
amination of our go: i
seriously undertaken. As we now rcalize,
сит forces were committed to battle w
the most amorphous of n
were to destroy, under the direction of a
leadership 10,000 miles from the scene,
an intricate social, political and
movement that had grafted itself by
hook and crook to Vietnamese national
identity.
Such was the empty faith in sheer
weaponr “reeking tube and iron
shard, lity aside, we never

that, mor
asked what we required of the place. The

idea was that somehow we didn't have to.
Prevailing, Ihe contemporary term
had it, nothing less, would do as a goal.
Ihe Administrations conducting the
Vietnam oon became more con-
cerned with appearances than with reali-
ty. Indeed, they resisted reality, resisted it
fatally. The that they never
stopped to analyze either the range of
their achievable objectives or the ol
their power. Not until the whole thing
turned to dust, until the last exhausted.
dregs of effort limply wickled down the
forearms of our war leaders, were we
compelled 10 address the grim principle
of possibi at followed was impro-

vised and not always honorable. That is
how things go when policies of know-
nothing perfectionism prevail, when the
American can-do spirit is equated with
ап absolute refusal to examine ends and
means

We must do now what we failed to do in
Vietnam. Serving the national interest in
the matter of illegal drugs requires a
thoughtful match-up of power and possi-
bility. Frantic boasts of the sort emanat-
ing from. Washington are the very la
things we need.

In the ideology of the war on drugs, по
Choices, no examination of options, no
determination of what can really work,
no examination of the possible are al-
lowed for. The very word possible can be
made to seem defeatist, part of the dic-
tion of nervous Nellies. Once again, per-
fectionism, all or nothing. Once again,
for those charged with doing the job, a
hopelessly open-ended mission uni!
formed by any truck with the idea that
national power has its limits.

More and more stridently, the impre-
sarios of the war demand a national con-
sensus. Journalists and others who
question what emanates from the leader-
ship are referred to as defectors. Consen-
sus in America has often meant an
uncritical getting on board, a refusal to
consider complexity or to closely consider
the national interest in other than bom-
bastic. perfectionist terms. Now. in its
name, we are being asked to forget what
a previous generation learned the hard
way—that making national policy means
practicing the art of the possible and al-
ways involves hard choices. We are being
told again that somehow, mystically,
Americas limitless options will keep us
immune from the necessity for decisions.
And how convenient for politicians when
a false myth of boundless power enables
them to promise everything to everyone.

Troops lighting a nonspecific, endless
war become demoralized. In the ca
the war on dr most of our troops
policemen of one sort or another. The
presence in our cities and towns of large
numbers of demor
charged with enforcing unenforceable
laws, may have extremely unpleasant and
quickly visible results. The high prices il-
legal drugs command have corrupted
mbers of nearly every police force on
h, from the DEA to the Royal Cana-
Mounted Police.

The last mindless, guileless attempt to
blish a drug-free America, Prohibi-
tion, succeeded in mstitutionalizing the
richest and most powerful criminal syn-
dicate of modern times, one (hats every
bit as close to most of us as the псаге
junkie. And we might remind the public
that f nlorcement officials who build
their empires on tough talk and empty
promises have never done the country
much good. This is, after all, the country

of AI Capone and of the White House
“plumbers” and of the late |. Edgar
Hoover, who, as much as he got around,
never believed in the Mafia. Our at-
tempts to fecklessiy oversimplify. our

problems have always compounded
them
Internationally, we have had examples

of the military aspect of the war, Special
Forces teams abroad, working as they
must with the local military, have de-
scended on the jungle redoubts of
traficantes to find the pre
doned. They have suspected that notice
of their arrival may have been given by
the forces of the host country 15 that
reminiscent of another land far away?
We will undoubtedly be able to bribe and
bully some allies into suiting up for ex-
pensive scarch-and-destroy operations
As any Third World general knows, a
man can make a great deal of money out
of counterinsurgency. That is especially
true when playing one side off against
another, the more so when both sides,
like the traficantes and the gringos, have
enormous sums at their disposal. The
war on drugs can be good business for
the right army: Just ask the fellow who
was helping us out in Panama. What was
his name, anywa
Increasingly, the Administration has
sought military options in its war on
drugs. Right now, our military presence
in Peru is being increased. “Americas
forward outpost in the war on cocaine,” a
facility that will requirc ever-inc ng
protection, is being expanded in the
heart of territory controlled by the Shin-
ing Path guerrillas.
This is extremely dangerous business.
Has the Bush Administration really fa-
miliarized itself with the situation in
Peru, in Colombia, in Bolivia and else-
where? It had better, if we're putting our
people in there. Is our m s
geared for a massive positi opean
var, really equipped to handle the trou-
ble we may be getting ourselves into?
During the attack on Pan lot of
us held our breath for a while. In the first
daylight hours of day one, when it ap-
pear 4 escaped, when

ma City and heavy wea
brought to bear i
students ol modern American пий
operations experienced a few unpleasant
flashes from the past. At their worst,
things looked as though some of the fa-
criticisms ol our military style
might be grimly validated. There was
fear that the operation would prove tech-
nologized 10 the point of unwieldiness.
‘There was anxiety that our procedures,
in an operation of some political sensitiv-
ity, might be lacking in political sophisti-
cation. Some observers suspected that
our forces might go in dependent on

(concluded on page 167)

89%).
SOP Тү. 4 ;

ја

x 1
——

“You on the left I made in My image. . . . The one on the
right, I'd like to take a closer look!”

“I always sow Marilyn Mon-
roe as an exaggeration of
femininity,” says artist Olivia
De Berardinis (seen at right
with her current model),
whose water colors of
Rhonda echo Monroe. “And
Rhonda captures that laok.
She shimmers. Taking a
walk with her is like taking a
walk with а nean sign—es-
pecially if shes wearing
something low-cut Every-
one notices. Its exactly the
some ‘Jell-O on springs’
look that Monroe had.”

rhonda's marilyn act inspires olivia's art

Platinum hair. Cherry lips. Her giggle is equal parts music box and Mickey
Mouse, but it's the only mousy thing about her. And she has a devil of a time
keeping her clothes on. Strolling the beach, as captured strip by
Joel Beren, she’s blonde déjà vu. Marilyn Monroe? Almost. “People say Fm
uncanny,” says Rhonda Ridle Кез her living "doing" Mon-
roe. “Its easy: I'm just like her” Rhonda dislikes the term impersonation,
seeing herself rather as a reincarnation; “When I do her, 1 am Marilyn.”

Rhondo fars can order her likeness in De Berardinis’ work—prices range from $35 for posters to $700 for limited-edition lithographs—
either by writing to Robert Bone Editions (8025 Melrose Avenue, Los Angeles, Colifornio 90046) or by telephoning В00-325-2765.

PHOTOGRAPHY BY RICHARD FEGLEY

"Marilyn was 55" and weighed 125 pounds,” soys Rhonda (seen here, os elsewhere in this pictarial, in photos by Richard Fegley and
water color by De Berardinis). “Me, toa. Marilyn was а Gemini. So am I." Now doing Monroe in a Legends in Concert shaw at the Imperial
Palace in Las Vegas, she cites only one difference between herself and her idal. "My chest is four inches bigger" Rhonda says, giggling, 77

Born too lote to meet Monroe in the
flesh, Rhonda has spent years re-
searching her heroine. She watches
Marilyn's films and studies photos of
the pop goddess, distilling the essence
of Monroes undying oppeal. "There
was alwoys something in her eyes," she
says. "Something that said, "Love me”

here, gentlemen, are the
risks we run for love

THE
GAS-STATION
CAPER
AND OTHER
TALES OF THE
NIGHT

article By ASA BABER

ARTY 15 a slightly overweight,

bearded man of 45 who is an

executive in the publishing

industry. Martys luck is ak
most always good: Women seem to gravi-
tate toward him like birds to a feeder. "I
think they see me as a father figure at
first," he says, "sort of a harmless older
man who will protect them and listen to
them and not jump their bones. Thars
OK with me. I'm happy to play Santa
Claus for a while. Things usually get bet-
ter after that."

Marty is not his real name. The names
here have been changed to protect the
roguish. But Marty is your typical male,
and he has war stories about his life and
loves that will keep you laughing through
lunch. His favorite? Something you
might call Sex and Paralysis

“I developed this lower-back problem,"
Marty says. “It got so bad I could hardly
move. I went to my doctor, who is also
one of my best friends. He examined me
and then did his routine: a list of exercis
es for my back, a prescription for muscle
relaxants, a cane to walk with and the ad
vice not to put my back under any undue
stress. ‘You can't move too sharply or sud
denly he told me. ‘Basically, you have to
avoid all vigorous exercise.

“1 thought about that for a minute.

"Doc, I said, "youre not talking about
sex, right? Tell me 1 can have sex."

"Marty; he said, ‘you definitely have
to limit your sex life for at least the next
few weeks. Stay away from it as much as
you can. If you have to do it, only one po-
sition allowed, your back on the floor,
your partner above you, no violent move-
ments, she does all the work. You've got a
dangerously deteriorating disk condi-
tion. If you throw vour back out, it can
cause you serious problems for the rest of
your life.

“I'm just a regular guy” Marty says,
Laughing as he reminisces, “which means
that if I get a зше, ГИ do anything to get
laid. So there I am, hobbling down the
street from my doctor's office, walking
like a goddamn bull on ice, using the
cane and hating it, feeling like shit, pain
in my back and pain down my legs.
There on the street, 1 run into a former
girlfriend, a woman I haven't seen for
five or six years. She likes the way I'm
limping. She likes the cane. She thinks it's
all very sexy She has missed me terribly.

“We stop in a bar for some drinks, we
remember old times and before you
know it, were checking into a hotel. At
first, I'm careful. I tell her I have to do it
the way my doctor told me to do it. She
cooperates. We put the bedding on the

ILLUSTRATION BY RAFAL OLBINSKI

PLAYBOY

floor, she climbs aboard, I let her do the
heavy work; she's good at it. But one
thing leads to another and I want to
change positions. I'm not a passive guy. I
want to show off. I remember that she
likes doing it doggy style best; it's the only
way she can come; theres something
about the position that does it for her ev-
ery time."

Marty taps his temple. "Some things
you never forget, you know? And here 1
am, in the heat of passion, wanting to be
impressive. So I get up on my knees and
she gets on her knees and we go at it like
two mutts in the street, bam-bam-bam.
She's moaning, I'm moaning, and it's ter-
rific sex. I feel invincible.

"Suddenly, my back goes out. No warn-
ing at all. Just snap, like that! 1 feel this
horrible pain, paralyzing, the worst pai
I've ever felt in my life, I don't know if
you've ever had a bad back, but let me tell
you, just trying to lean over to put on a
sock or tie your shoelaces is death.

“There 1 am on my knees behind her,
and I'm screaming, ‘Ow! Ow! Ow! No!
No! No!

"She hears me. She thinks it's true love.
She thinks I'm coming. This excites her.
She goes crazy at the noises I'm mak-
ing. My screams set her off. 'Me, too;
me, too, she’s yelling. "I'm coming, dont
stop, I'm coming! She's pushing back on
me, bouncing all over the place, and she
won't let me go. She's reaching back and
holding me by my ass. I can't escape. Еу-
ery movement is like a knife in the spine.
115 ng me. I'm screaming in pain,
shes yelling in pleasure, it sounds like a
200 in there and Гт dying.

“Finally, I break away. I fall down on
the floor on my back. ‘Oh, Marty, I'm so
sorry; 1 forgot about your poor back."
She's sobbing. I'm in tears, too. I'm hav-
ing these back spasms and [ cant talk.
Pain is colored white; did you know that?
White is all you can'see, bright-white
pain, like you're on the desert and star-
ing at the sun.

“She calls an ambulance. The para-
medics carry me out of there on a back-
board and I end up in the hospital.
thought I told you to take it easy, my doc-
tor says when ће walks in to see me, ‘and
you're back in here before I can get home
for dinner. What the hell were you do-
ing”

“You wouldn't believe me if I told you,’
lsay

“Was it worth it?” he asks.

“Tm not sure,’ I say "I'll tell you to-
morrow!

“I had to have a back operation and
lots of physical therapy. Through it all, 1
kept asking myself one question: If I had
a chance to do it all over again, knowing
everything I know now, would I do it?
Would I run the risk of total paralysis for

a piece of ass?” Marty pauses. “I decided
that, all things considered, I probably
would. [ guess that makes me a litle
but I admit it: I'd go for it, no mat-
ter what.”

For most men, anyway, Marty does not
sound crazy; he is simply one of us.
"Throughout history, men have gambled
limb, reputation and physical well-
being to woo and win, convince and se-
duce. High-risk loving is a male tradition,
from Adam to Casanova, from Gary
Hart to many of ıhe men reading this.
And in spite of repeated attempts by
moralists and scolds to unsex the male
and neuter his gender, nothing has
changed. We're still thc same horny fools
we've always been, and we love to laugh at
ourselves and our antics.

"lake Brian, the commodities broker.

Brianis married. He is in his early 30s,
affluent, with a home in the Chicago sub-
urbs, a man well on his way to having his
piece of the American pie. Short, manic,
driven, quick of mind and gesture, Brian
isa human dynamo who has a wandering
eye and a happy heart.

"There was this Belgian woman, prob-
ably ten years younger than [ am, а cur-
rency trader for an international
banking firm, a beautiful woman, more
like a girl than a woman, you know, the
kind of gal who has stuffed animals on a
uuuk in her bedroom and posters of
Тот Selleck on her wall. I met her at a
party and I couldnt take my eyes off her.
She seemed innocent and corrupt at the
same time, and she had a great body: So 1
took her out to dinner one evening and
we hit it off.

“L will say this for European women:

They are magnificent lovers. It was one
of the best evenings of my life. But
sooner or later, I had to get home. ‘First,’
she said to me, ‘before you go, in my
country, the woman always gives the man
a massage after lovemaking” Well, that
sounded OK to me, so I lay back and let
her massage me with this special oil she
had. I loved it, but I noticed something a
little strange. The oil had a smell. A nice
smell, sort of a combination of pine
needles and roses, but a very strong
smell. Not the kind of thing you want to
wear as you walk in your own back door
at three in the morning, if you know
what 1 mean.
o I showered with Belgian soap and
dried myself with a Belgian towel, but I
still smelled that oil. I showered ag;
Same smell. I had no more time to show-
er. I had to get home, so I kissed ту Bel-
gian girlfriend goodbye and hopped into
my car and took off.

"Immediate problem: 1 am stinking
up the car. 1 open the windows and hope
the breeze will blow the odor away. Guess

what? That doesnt work. The smell
hangs around me like a dirty yellow fog.
m panicked. What should I do? My wife
Il give me hellif I arrive home smelling
e a Belgian forest. My mind is racing.
I'm heading toward the last big intersec-
tion before my suburb. Bingo! I get an
idea.

"I stop at the only gas station that's
open, pull into the self-serve lane. The
attendant is watching me very intently
from his booth. I don't blame him. I look
a little strange, because I've thought of a
solution to my problem and I'm happy.
It's the middle of the night and I'm
bouncing around like it's noon. 1 dont
need much gas. Hardly any at all. But
that doesnt mean I turn the pump off
ht away. No, I have a plan. I'm hum-
ming to myself, splashing fuel on my
shoes, slopping it around, sprinkling и
оп my trousers, washing my hands in it,
flipping a little into my hair. I'm taking a
gasoline shower! The attendant stares at
me while I do this. He is convinced Гт
crazy. He is waiting for me to torch my-
self. 1 pay him. He puts his handkerchief
over his nose while he gives me my
change.

“I drive home. I talk to myself all the
way. ‘Do not make a mistake, do not light
a match, do not smoke your cigar, do not
smoke a cigarette, be very careful, do not
fuck up. [ park the car in the garage. go
the kitchen door, climb the stairs.
"God, you smell like a gas station, my
wife says as I walk into the bedroom. 1
know,’ I sax. ‘Sorry about that. The gas
hose broke and the guy spilled it on me."
She goes right back to sleep and I spend
an hour in the shower—alter 1 burn my
clothes in the burn barrel.

“It was а once-in-a-| ne ploy, of
course. I can't do it again. It’s too risky. I
could have gone up in flames like a na-
palm bomb. But it worked for me that
night.”

There is an underlying characteristic
of these men's stories: clarity. Every male
with whom I talked had one specific mo-
ment clearly in mind as the riskiest, crazi-
est, funniest episode of his love life. Male
memories of love and risk are on the tip
of the brain, fond recollections of times
we choose not to forget.

My friend Glenn, for example, remem-
bers the reckless moment in his life.
Looking at Glenn, you would think he
was an advertisement for what we used to
call Yuppiedom. He is 28 years old, an
impeccably dressed business consultant,
possessor of a Harvard В.А. and M.B.A.,
near the top of his class in business
school, high-salaried now. But Glenn has
а secret.

"What people don't know about me is
that I was raised on a small farm in the

(continued on page 138)

“Lately, all my fantasies are about group sex. . . .”

he was warned against entering the deadly jungle. his only response was to laugh

ALL-EONSUMING

ANTANDER JIMENEZ
was one of the towns
that ringed the Mal-
sueno, a kind of bor-
der station between the
insane tangle of the rain
forest and the more com-
prehensible and traditional insanity of
the highlands. It was a miserable place of
diesel smoke and rattling generators and
concrete-block buildings painted in
pastel shades of yellow, green and aqua,
many with rusted Fanta signs over their
doors, bearing names such as the Café of
a Thousand Flowers or The Eternal Gar-
den Bar or the Restaurant of Golden De-
sires, all containing fly-specked Formica
tables and inefficient ceiling fans and fat
women Wearing grease-spattered aprons
and discouraging frowns. Whores
slouched beneath the buzzing neon mar-
quee of the Cine Guevara. Drunks with
bloody mouths lay in the puddles that
mired the muddy streets. It was always
raining. Even during the height of the
dry season, the lake was so high that the
playground beside it was half-sub-
merged, presenting a surreal vista of
drowned swing sets and seesaws.

To the west of town, separated from
the other buildings by a wide ground
strewn with coconut litter and flattened
beer cans, stood a market—a vast tin
roof shading a hive of green wooden
stalls. П was there that the marañeros
would take the curious relics and still
more curious produce that they collected
in the heart of the rain forest: stone idols

fiction

By LUCIUS SHEPARD

whose eyes glowed with electric moss; al-
bino beetles the size of house cats; jaguar
bones inlaid with scams of mincral that
flowed like mercury; lizards with voices
as sweet as nightingales; mimick vines,
parrot plants and pavonine, with its ad-
dictive spores that afforded one a transi-
tory mental contact with the creatures of
the jungle.

They were, for the most part, these
marañeros, scrawny, rawboned men who
wore brave tattoos that depicted lions
and devils and laughing skulls. Their
faces were scarred, disfigured by fungus
and spirochetes, and when they walked
out in the town, they were given a wide
berth, not because of their appearance or
their penchant for violence, which was no
greater than that of the ordinary citizen,
but because they embodied the dread
mystique of the Malsueno, and in their
tormented solitudes, they seemed the
emblems of a death in life more frighten-
ing to the uninformed than the good
Catholic death advertised by the portly
priests at Santa Anna de la Flor del
Piedra.

Scarcely anyone who lived in San-
tander Jimenez wanted to live there. A
number of citizens had been driven to
this extreme in order to hide from a
criminal or politically unsound past. The
most desperate of these were the
marañeros—who but those who them-
selves were hunted would voluntarily en-
ter the Malsueno to dwell for months ata
time among tarzanals and blood vine
and christomorphs?—and the most des-

ILLUSTRATION BY FREO STONEHOUSE

perate ol the marañeros, or so һе had
countenanced himself for 21 years, so
many ycars that his desperation had mel-
lowed to an agitated resignation, was a
gaunt, graying man by the name of Arce
Cienfuegos. In his youth, he had been an
educator in the capital in the extreme
west of the country, married to а beauti
ful woman, the father of an infant son,
and had aspired to a career in politics.
However, his overzealous pursuit of that
career had set him at odds with the drug
cartel; as a result, his wife and child had
been murdered, a crime with which he
had subsequently been charged, and ће
had been forced to flee to the Malsueno.
For а time thereafter, he had been driven
by a lust for revenge. for vindication, but
when at last the drug cartel had been
shattered, its leaders executed, revenge
was denied him, and because those who
could prove his innocence were in their
coffins, the murder charge against him
had remained open. Now, at the age of
48, his crime forgotten, although he
might have returned to the capital, he
was so defeated by time and solitude and
grief he could no longer think of a rea-
son to leave. Just as chemical pollutants
and radiation had transformed the jun-
gle into a habitat suitable to ıhe most
grotesque of creatures, living in the Mal-
sueno had transformed him into a sour
twist of a man who ıhrived on its green
acids, its vegetable perversions, and he
was no longer fit for life in the outside
world. Or so he had convinced himself.
Nonetheless, (continued on page 150)

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SOMEBODY PUMPED
GREENIES INTO THE COFFEE,
BUT NOBODY KNEW IT. EVEN
THE COACHES WERE BANGING
AROUND THE DUGOUT LIKE

А BUNCH OF CHINAMEN
GONE „оочу.

TO BE A MANAGER IN
THE MINORS, YOU HAVE TO
KNOW AT LEAST TWENTY- — |
SEVEN FOUR-LETTER WORDS, |
AN? THOSE TWENTY-SEVEN
HAVE TO INCLUDE "HORSE'S
ASS "AND “YOU EGG-
SUCKING MOTHER DOGS”

THE BIG-LEAGUE LEGENDS OF SENIOR BASEBALL
LIVE BY ONE RULE: SOME GUYS JUST NEVER GROW UP

THE КОУ5 OF WINTER

Y Do YOU PLAY ? 4 | Он, GREAT. SO NOW WE'VE
qe o т We urs
BRIDGET MEAN. Y C? m: HELL'S IN CHARGE OF

IN.
WE NEEVA FOUR TH, И ACQUISITIONS AROUND
b HERE 7 2

article By Randy Wayne White

OPENING Day: home; Fort Myers Sun Sox
ws. Pompano Gold Coast Suns at Terry
Park.

It is two hours before our inaugural
game in Florida's Senior Professional
Baseball Association. 1 am watching Luis
Tiant, who is grinning like a kid in his
blue Gold Coast uniform, clearly enjoy-
ing his first opening day in seven years.

But more than his mood is buoyant.
Exchanging barbs with his teammates,
Tiant duck-walks to the fence and begins
10 dispense his morning coffee through
the chain link. the rakish sweep of his
hips adding flair to his voiding. One of
the ground-crew guys reminds Tiant
that there are rest rooms available, just
like in the major leagues. But Tiant only
waves him closer and begins to charm
him with the story of how, when playing
for the Red Sox, he once placed this pin-
ga of his in a bun, covered it with condi-
ments, confronted his manager and said,
"You call any more morning meetings,
Skip, 1 give you a bite of thi

Sitting in the dugout with manager
Earl Weaver, Tiant watched the Sun Sox
defeat his club 13-0. Commissioner Curt
Flood helped welcome the crowd of
2300, while Connie Mack, Jr., son of the
baseball legend, threw out the first ball—
which, the announcer said, would be im-
mediately jetted to Cooperstown for
enshrinement in the Hall of Fame. (A
month later, the ball still had not arrived
at Cooperstown. As registrar Peter Clark
observed, “If we had it, we might actually
use it, but you can't display what you don’t
have")

This same announcer perhaps un-
nerved by so much history, then intro-
duced the Sun Sox as the Sun Sets, a
blooper that only those of us sitting in the.
Fort Myers bull pen seemed to catch.
"Thats us, boys, the Sun Sets," said
outfielder Rick Manning. “Now, let's tot-
ter out there and knock their knobs in
the dirt.” His words nicely mirrored the
competitive attitude not only of Manning

ILLUSTRATIONS BY NEAL ADAMS

PLAYBOY

but of the 216 other players, managers
and coaches in the eight-team league
who were taking to fields around the
state that day.

In Orlando, Orlando Јисе5 U. 1.
Washington drove in two runs to beat
Clete Boyer's Bradenton Explorers 3-1.
In Winter Haven, the St. Petersburg Peli-
cans beat the Super Sox 9-2, despite the
stratagems of Bill Lee, 42-year-old man-
ager, pitcher, outfielder and designated
Lao-tzu spokesman. In West Palm Beach,
Dick Williams’ Tropics beat Graig Net-
tles' St. Lucie Legends 8-1. And in Fort
Myers, pitchers Dennis Leonard, Steve
Luebber and Don Hood shared the
shutout, while teammates such as Dan
Driessen, Marty Castillo, Amos Otis and
Tim Ireland combined for 14 hits; the
first of their 13 runs italicized by a direc-
tive to Tiant from the Sun Sets’ bull pen:
“Bite that, Louie! Bite that!”

What most fans thought they saw that
opening day were pitchers throwing 80-
to-90-mile-per-hour fastballs, infielders
performing with the sweet deliberation
of snipers and outfielders making diving
catches despite pulled hamstrings. But
many sportscasters and reporters saw
things differently, taking strange refuge,
perhaps, in the sacred aphorisms of basc-
ball's establishment: If the idea is new, it
cant be good; if the players arc old, they
must be bad. A reporter from Baltimore
said the quality of play was far inferior to
that of the major leagues, then took tlic
dichotomous route, adding that, still, it
was amusing to watch 38-year-old out-
fielder Cesar Cedeño throw the ball 300
fecı on a line to home plate. About the
players, a reporter from Boston conclud-
cd, “Their participation shows a disrc-
spect for the game they're supposed to
love.”

It could be argued that these reporters
communicated what they expected to see
rather than what they actually saw but
for a lone derisive thread: lack of foot
speed on the field. As one person in the
press box put it, “They're hobbling
around out there like old men.” Which
was true. But rather than serving as evi-
dence that the league was a joke, it was
precisely this odd, hobbling gait that was
the key indicator that something extraor-
dinary was taking place on the playing
fields of Florida's old Grapefruit League.

These guys had had only two weeks to
get in shape, and nearly half of the posi-
tion players had gone into their first
games with pulled hamstrings; yet they
continued to play with a епвйу unex-
pected in light of their injuries and the
relatively low pay—$6000 to $36,000 for
the season.

"They had returned to the very fields
upon which most of them, as young men.
had proven themselves worthy of the ma-
jor leagues; the same fields that, in later

spring-training games, were party to
their banishment. Now they had been
given an opportunity to take a second
shot at the game that had, over the years,
taken so many shots at them.

Curiously, the media focused venom
on the players’ lack of speed rather than
seeing the significance of their refusal to
brake. As one reporter said, “Just about
any ex-high school player over the age
of thirty-five, who has stayed in shape,
done some running, could play in this
league. Its strictly amateur class."

Although 1 had been with the Sun Sets
only a short time, no one was better
qualified to judge how absurdly wrong
that reporter was, and no one had more
reason to wish that he was at least a little
right—because, unknown to him, the
would-be player he described was me.

When Jim Morley, the founder of the
Senior Professional Baseball Association
(S.PB.A.), and his fellow investors sat
down to draw up the bylaws, they left a
loophole those of us never gifted enough
to play pro ball could have driven a no-
cut contract through: "Each team can
have up to three non-former major-
Icaguers on its regular roster” That
made eligible an entire generation of
middle-aged, weak-armed former high
school jocks, few of whom were actually
dull enough to think they had a shot at
making one of the cight S.PB.A. teams. I
take pride in having tried anyway.

The day 1 heard that nonprofessionals
could play in the over-35 league was the
day 1 began calling for а tryout. My
rationale, though flawed, was simple:
Judging from old-timers games, few ma-
jor-lcaguers exited into civilian life as
fitness frcaks, nor did many of them ap-
pear prissy about weight control. lt
seemed plausible that 1 could do now
what 1 had been unable to do 20 years
ago: beat one of them out of a position.

Т ended up speaking with Pat Dobson,
manager of the Fort Myers Sun Sox and
also the pitching coach for the Padres.
Dobson looks like a manager designed in
Hollywood: tall, articulate, lean, with the
Clint Eastwood habit of lowering his
head slightly when he talks, so that he
peers up and out at you. In that first
meeting in the clubhouse, though, he did
little peering at me; he seemed preoccu-
pied until I mentioned that when not try-
ing out for baseball teams, I made my
living as a fishing guide. Suddenly, 1 had
his attention. Light-tackle fishing guide?
Yes, I told him, for 12 years. Dobson, и
turned out, was a passionate fisherman
and, after a discussion of tides and baits,
decided maybe I could have my tryout
after all. Which is why, for 29 games, I
was able to join the team—if not as an ac-
tual member. then at least as a peripheral
participant who was able to dress out,
catch in the bull pen and, on those occa-
sions when Dobson remembered that I

was not around just to talk about the
habits of littoral fish, take B.P—batting
practice.

It would be inaccurate to suggest thar I
had a chance of making the 24-man list
of activated players—a fact obvious even
to me after my first day on the field. That
partition of chain-link screen, 1 quickly
learned, does more than separate the di-
amond from the bleachers; it separates,
as well, the fantasies of the stands from
the more strident realities of the playing
field. For a time, I nursed slim hopes of
making the taxi squad as an emergency
catcher. But as those hopes also faded, I
contented myself with hanging with the
team as long as I could, enjoying the
cramped bus rides, the motel beer ses-
sions and sitting in the bull pen during
the games, filling five memo books with
notes on life in the not-so-big leagues.

First week: home; St. Lucie Legends vs.
Fort Myers Sun Sets at Terry Park.

Terry Park is one of the few remaining
antique ball yards in the old Grapefruit
League, and its infield is tended like an
Augusta putting green. Almost every
spring since 1923, major-league baseball
has come to this small stadium, with its
green bleachers tiered bencath a tin rain
roof. From 1923 to 1935, the Philadelphia
Athletics trained here, followed by the
Cleveland Indians, the Pittsburgh Pirates
and the Kansas City Royals. Along with
those teams came a glorious entourage of
baseball legends, teenage phenoms and
big-city news jocks. The base paths, laid
down nearly 70 years ago, have car-
ried Cobb, Speaker, Ruth, DiMaggio
and Mantle, Clemente, Yastrzemski,
Brett and Bo.

On my first day with thc tcam, I ar-
rived five hours before game time—not
only because I was cager to get on the
field but because I didn't want to go in
when the clubhouse was full and have to
react to what 1 feared would be 27 faces
staring silently at me, wondering who in
the hell this new guy was. Even though
game time was far off, the dubhouse was
already more than half full, with guys
lounging around in sliding shorts, read-
ing the paper. Instead of stares, I got
brief smiles in greeting.

As I found my locker and began to
change, Tom Spencer, a former Indians
outfielder, came up to me and asked, “Do
you play?” For a moment, I thought he
was asking if I played baseball; it seemed
extraordinary that they could spot me as
a fraud so quickly, But then he added,
“Bridge, | mean. We need a fourth.” Ata
table behind him, catcher Castillo and
pitcher Rick Waits looked on as I said [
didn’t know anything about bridge. This
admission caused Castillo to grimace,
and he said, "Oh, great. So now we've got
another guy not worth a shit. Who the

(continued on page 92)

BRIT WII

from suits and socks to colognes, here‘ an inside look
at the wildly creative english designer paul smith

fashion By HOLLIS WAYNE

“LIFE IS TOO SHORT to be uncomfortable,” says Paul Smith, a whimsical 44-year-old
British menswear designer who sees his clothes as “a constant tongue-in-cheek
joke on myself and my Englishness.” Smiths latest collection includes a
navy-blue blazer combined with a hooded sweat
shirt, and a pinstriped double-breasted suit worn
with a denim shirt and a brightly flowered tie, as
well as print shirts decorated with photos of a
friend's horse, taken by Smith himself, jeans with
postman's pockets sewn on, plus plenty of soft,
unconstructed jackets and loose pleated trousers.
"If you happen to be a serious guy, I also sell
striped shirts and ties with little ducks on them."
When Smith opened his first dothing store in
London back in 1970, his customers were mostly
artists. "I wanted people to leave feeling that the
store was strange or crazy or beautiful, some-
thing that caused a reaction." Now, with shops in
Japan, plus stores in London, Nottingham, New
York (108 Fifth Avenue) and a collection in Eu-
rope, Smith finds himself on the go seven months
out of 12, traveling to oversee his far-flung oper-
ations. "You can wear my latest sports jackets with
old chinos from a thrift shop and your father's
shoes—if they fit. My clothes let you be yourself.
I strongly believe that individualism will be very

important in the Nineties. But one thing will be

out. The total-black look. It's fading tremendous-
ly.” Sorry about that, Johnny Cash, Father Guido Sarducci and all you ninja war-
riors. Smith's eclectic fall collection includes suits, sports jackets, shirts, vests and
outerwear, deep, rich jewellike colors and back-to-the-earth tones, plus a tremen-
dous variety of accessories and toiletries, including watches, socks, scarves, ties,
cuff links, belts, sunglasses, underwear, hand luggage, soaps, cologne, shampoos,
toothbrushes and deodorants. Paul Smith's name is everywhere. "I attract cre-
ative pcople who like interesting clothes that are сазу to wear. People who know.
And that's a lot of fun." We think his innovative creations are a lot of fun, too.

PHOTOGRAPHY BY BETH BISCHOFF

Top, for left: Long-sleeved cot-
ton shirt with borber-chair-pho-
to print, $165, worn with cotton
velvet button-front — jeons,
$105. Top left: Wool/melton
corduroy patchwork coot with
drowstring hood and button
front, $380, worn over wool
mock-turtleneck sweater, $220.
Bottom, for left: Navy blazer
with three-button front, $630,
worn with cotton jersey-knit
hooded sweot shirt, $175, cot-
ton knit T-shirt, $45, ond cotton
twill trousers with button-tab
front, $130. Bottom left: Cotton
corduroy quilted jacket with
horse-photo print and satin li

ing, $315, worn over cotton
sport shirt, $140. Right, clock-
wise from one: Polko-dot silk
tie ond plum-motif silk не, $80
each. Paul Smith soap, $8.
Watch with gold-ploted case,
$295. Long-sleeved cotton
sport shirt, $160. Tooth paste,
$4.50, toothbrushes, 53.50
eoch, ond offer-shave, $40.
Nubuck belt with silver buckle,
$90. Patterned cotton-blend
socks, $25, and polko-
dot socks, also $25. In the
center: Marbled-plostic-frame
sunglasses, $90. All foshions

ond accessories are by Paul

Smith. Whot o prolific guy!

Where and How to Buy
on poge 149

PLAYBOY

BOYS OF WINTER (continued from page 88)

“We win 11—2. Dick Drago says, My God, and we

haven't even had time to cork our bats yet.

ээ»

hell's in charge of acquisitions around
here?”

That was my introduction to the Fort
Myers Sun Sets. Never once was 1 asked
where I had played ball or even if I had
played—though that all came out later in
conversations in the bull pen. To men
who spent much of their professional
lives moving from team to team, and who
were accustomed to arriving at the club-
house to find a teammate's locker cleaned
out, with a dilTerent name taped above it,
no unfamiliar face was a surprise, nor
even cause for much curiosity. I would be
the new guy for a few days. Then I would
become one of the guys. And then, when
management decided it didn't need me,
I'd become the guy who was here for a
while but didnt make it, the one who
didn't play bridge.

In a business that is essentially no-
madic, the only constants are the game it-
self and life in the clubhouse, which is
perhaps why many of these once-retired
players are to be found in the clubhouse
far earlier than required—some even on
off days. As outfielder Larry Harlow told
me, "On game days, you don't have ume
to really do much at home, so you might
as well come in early. And on off days—
well, I hate off days. I've had too many of
those already"

The St. Lucie Legends are in town
with their list of big-name players: Graig
Nettles, Bobby Bonds, George Foster, Jer-
ry Grote and Vida Blue, but they come in
without a win. The Sun Sets are 2-0 after
sweeping Earl Weaver's Gold Coast Suns.
After catching batting practice, 1 hang
around the cage to watch the Legends
hit; Меше and Bonds both loft home
runs over Terry Park's distant outfield
fence (360 feet down each line). Some-
thing catches my eye through the nearly
empty bleachers, so I walk to the exit
nearest the visitors’ locker room and in-
vestigate. There, on the empty practice
diamond, Vida Blue is sliding.

Sliding?

Yep, no doubt about it. He slides into
second, then slides into third. Each time,
he pauses to inspect the dirt accumulat-
ing on his game pants. A ground crew-
man is also watching, and 1 wonder aloud
why a pitcher would practice base run-
ning. The ground-crew guy grins and
says, "Because Vida just wiped pine tar
all over his leg. Now he's covering it up
with dirt. But Pin not supposed to say
anything, because Vida said at this level,
it’s not cheating, its just getting an edge.”

With occasional visits to the pine tar on
his slide-savaged pants, plus his 90-mph
fastball, Blue gives up only one run in
five innings with the help of two circus
catches by Juan Beniquez in center. We
lose 8-1. Afterward, the normally cheer-
ful dubhouse is grim. The sound of
deats echoes off the cement floor and
guys limp toward the showers wordless-
iost of them with huge bruises on
their thighs, the black badges of pulled
hamstrings. Even Dan Driessen, who
seems always го be smiling, is subdued.
For the first time, 1 realize how seriously
these guys are taking their return to
baseball and how much they hate to lose.

The second game of the series goes
our way, though in the bull pen
with Marty Castillo (who has a night off
from catching) and pitchers Don Hood,
Eric Rasmussen, Doug Bird, Dennis
Leonard, Dick Drago and Dave LaRoche,
we watch Amos Otis hit a three-run
homer in the first. Then Rick Manning
and Tim Ireland each ie in runs in
the second. Our designated hitter, Pat
Putnam, is hitung ropes on his way to
a three-lor-four night, Wayne Garland
pitches five no-hit innings and our third
baseman, Ron Jackson, backhands and
barehands balls, throws off his right foot,
makes it look easy:

By the sixth inning, we have а 9-1 lead
and the mood in the bull pen, always re-
laxed, relaxes even more. Bird and Leon-
ard begin to talk about a famous
American League ground keeper. "Re-
member when those guys started peeing.
in the rain gauge? Man, they just about
drove the ground keeper nuts. He would
come to the park and find four or five
inches in the rain gauge every single
morning. He'd look at that thing and
scratch his head, then look at the parking
lot to see if there were any puddles. No
puddles. Then he'd carry the gauge
around, show it to us and say, ‘You know,
it musta rained cats and dogs last night,
but this dang field didn't hold a drop! Not
a drop!" Wed just pull away, like ‘Get that
thing out of my face, and say, ‘You're do-
ing a great job. You're magic, man."

Which reminds one of the coaches of a
joke played on Cleveland's Sam McDow-
ell, the Indians' pitching асс of the Six-
ties. “We took the hinges off Sam's hotel
door one night, and he comes back after
a long party, rams the key in the hole and
the whole door gives way. He falls into his
room face first, right on top of the door,
and just lies there groaning. Then he
jumps up, goes straight to the phone and

calls the police. We're out in the hall, and
we can hear him talking. "This the po-
lice? Hey, somebody busted into ту
room. Yeah, no shit. I think they took my
gun, too. A big gun! The moment Sam
mentions his gun, we clear out. We knew
nobody had touched his gun.

“Next morning, Sam goes for a swim in
the hotel pool and drops a big log right
there. People all around, and Sam drops
a massive floater. Then he tries to blame
it on some kid. 1 mean, the log's as big as
the kid's leg, and he's trying to blame this
eight-year-old. That night, Sam goes out
and throws, like, a two-hitter; this was
back when he threw gas. But in the dub-
house, he's still bitching about this kid he
says dropped the big log."

As they talk, Larry Harlow makes a
long run and a diving catch, thudding
shoulder first and skidding on his face
past the foul line right in front of us.
Castillo yells, "Way to hustle, Hawk; way
to give it up!” then to the bull pen ob-
hats a tough way to get sober. I
igh school once.”

We win 11-2. We win the next night,
too, with solid defensive play from Har-
low, Castillo, Driessen and utility man
Kim Allen, Walking from the bull pen to
the locker room, Drago studies the score-
board, admiring the team's total of 17
hits, and says, with an appreciation that
could be felt only by a pitcher, “My God,
and we haven't even had time to cork our
bats yet.”

.
Life at middle age may be essentially
serious, but life in the Senior League, es-
pecially during a bus trip, is not. There
are 33 of us sitting shoulder to shoulder
on this air-conditioned motor coach; 33
grown men who are respected in their
communities, some of whom haven't rid-
den a team bus in more than ten years.
There is a reunion atmosphere in which
time appears as warped as the humor.

In a seat ahead of me, a former Yankee
pitcher is telling story about Lou Piniel-
Ме were on the bus outside Yankee
Stadium, getting ready 10 go Lo the air-
port, when this girl jumps on, drops her
pants and wanıs all of us to autograph
her butt..."

From the back of the bus, pitcher Steve
McCatty interrupts, groaning, "Aw, no,
Hose just cut the cheese.”

Ло which catcher Tim Hosley replies,
“No, sir, it wasn't me, man! It was Catty.
He's the onc who smelled it first.”

But the Piniella story continues: “Well,
that sort of thing happens in The Show,
but we're gentlemen about it, and we all
sign this girl’s backside as she moves
down the aisle. .. 7

McCatty, who looks like a muscular
Captain Kangaroo, is moaning, “Aw,
Hose, something crawled up you and
died,” and Dan Driessen is spraying a can

(continued on page 147)

“Do you, Gayle, take Mark to be your lawfully wedded husband and promise to
obey, cherish and comfort him, to serve him at all times, to administer to
his every need in sickness and in health for as long as ye both shall live?”

“Shit, no!”

jacqueline sheen is a sales rep and scuba diver who
water-skis barefoot. no wonder they call her

PHOTOGRAPHY BY STEPHEN WAYDA

IACQLELINE SHEES— Jackson
to her friends—is about to
go water-sküng, barefoot,
on the crystal-blue inlet
that is her back vard.
finger of water off С
water Harbor on the Gulf
Coast of Florida. Jackson
learned (o ski
from the best, she
a man named Cooke—
“Pronounced Cookie. И
уоште going 10 write
about my barefooting, he
should get the credit”
Just what does it take to
glide across the water on
her heels? For starters,
she begins by grabbing
the tow торе while float-
ing on her stomach. and
pushing to her feet when
the boat picks up enough
speed. “One of the most
important things about
barefooting is that you
have to go fast—the faster
the better.” That comes
naturally to Jackson, who,
since 1985, has made the
fast track her home. That
was the year she began

selling condos for a liv-
ing in Oklahoma, having
moved there Пот her
native Texas. One year
later. she took a job with a
sporting-goods manufac-
turer and within five days
was nurturing an account
worth some 5150.000 to
the firm. Since 1988, she
has been prospecting for

“When o road opens up for
you, you don't break the
momentum, soys Jocque-
line, in c rore moment of re-
pose ot left. “No, you keep
going ond see where it leods
you.” Luckily for us, thot
тоса led her to these pages.

more customers in Flori.
da. "I took one look at
Clearwater, fell in love
with the beach and decid
cd to move. That's all it
took." These days, her life
is a veritable balancing
act, with a ‘THINGS то ро
pad that looks like the
Manhattan Yellow Pages.
In addition to Jackson the
saleswontan, there's Jach-
son the scuba diver (“I'm
now certified”), Jackson
the family girl (“Tm back
in Texas at least once a
month") and now Jackson
the Playmate. “1 was in
California on business
and decided to give
Playboy a call. By the next
morning, 1 was already
doing my test shots.”
Enough of this talk stuff:
Jackson wants to show us
how she skis sans slats.
Shouting to us over the
rumbling engine of a
sleek Baja speedboat,
Jackson tells us, “What 1
love about barefoot skiing
is the freedom! It's the
most exhilarating feel-
ing!" Suddenly, she's in-
terrupted by the roar of
the boats engine; the
Baja lurches forward and
tears off. Jackson hangs
tight to the rope, cutting
through the wake like
some supercharged mer-
maid. A lew quick twists
of the body and she's
up—zipping across the
water and laughing back
at a dock-bound admirer.

"When | was seventeen,” recalls Jacque-
line, “my best friend, Peggy, told me to try
out for Playboy, but | never did. | wes too
modest, | guess. ‘Well, if you ever do try
out ond moke it,‘ Peggy said to me,
‘you'd better not forget to mention те."
And look how things turned out! Here's
to you, Peg—l'm keeping my promise."

—

|
|
|
|
|
!

And now an amazing confession: “Twa years ago, | wouldn't hove been caught
dead in a twa-piece bathing suit,” says Jacqueline. "But when I decided to move
ta Florida, | went to five stores and tore them apart looking for a bikini. | tried
on dozens and finally walked away with one 1 liked. That changed everything." E

Usually one to warm quickly ta strange environments, Jacqueline admits thal posing for Playboy took same
getting used to. "When we first storied working an the pictorial, [Contributing Photographer Stephen]
Woydo told me | was making too many frawny faces. But by the time we begon shooting on the soilbao!,
| was feeling comfortable. In foci," she says, laughing, "I was the only one aboard who didn't get seasick.”

54 mise: 2% нез. 37.
HEIGHT: 277” WEIGHT:
BIRTH DATE: 3-8 Ф5 BIRTHPLACE:
an Bl жада in the Lalvatian _

PETS I'VE OWNED: A ohimpamgu , UM PA aA. , 12128, —

Cala

PLAYBOY'S PARTY JOKES

Alter confessing to the psychiatrist that he had
n unusually active sex life with his wife, hi
tress and several girlfriends, the sexahol
admitted 1 masturbation and wet
dreams.
"Which activity gi
the shrink asked.
Wet dream:
“Why wet dreams?
"Hell. you meet a

you the most pleasure?

uch better class of people.

Have you heard about the new male birth-con
trol pill? Men take it the day after and и changes
their blood type.

Washington insiders report that the drug sum-
mit in Colombia produced one unpublicized re-
sult, Bowing to Colombia's concerns that a total
crackdown will create economic hardship. Pr.
dent Bush agreed to allow a limited amou
cocaine to be delivered to the US.—pr

of
vided itis

nudist colony The admis-
nd suggested he look

lifelong desire to join a
sions clerk welcomed him
around belore signing on.

After leaving his clothes
man found a bench where he could discreetly
mire the passing scene. Before long, a st
blonde ambled by and, noticing his appreciative
stare, wordlessly knelt down and gave him the
best blow job of his life.

‘The old fellow was so thrilled, he ran back to
the admissions office, wrote ош a check on the
spot and received immediate membership.

He quickly headed back to the bench but, be-
fore sitting down, dropped his cigar. As he bent

‚ а tall, muscular fellow came up
nounted hii
an pulled away and hurried

nding his money ba

т a locker, the old
Ë

excited once every four
he explained to the perplexed woman
drop my agar five times a day:

How а

roused?

y you tell if à male WASP is
By his stiff upper lip.

ring the end of her sex-survey question-
re, the rcher said, "One more question
How long has it been since you last had

Her subject looked startled, then
around and fumbled with his trousers.
back, he replied, “Oh, about four inches,

Three winos huddled under a bridge and broke
open a couple ol jugs. After drinking for severa
hours, they passed out. In the morning, two woke
up to find that the third had died during the
night.

At the funeral home, the two surviving friends

əd by the coffin of their departed buddy “Boy,
ol George sure looks good, dont he?" the first re-
marked

"Well, dan
"He aint had

Recently, a friend of ours went 10 a trendy, hot
dance club in L.A. Everyone there was imo
S/M. You know, stand and model.

А scully

he should,” the second replied.
fuckin’ drink in three days:

decided to spring for an expen-

ме dinner out for his girlfriend's birthday After
being seated, they ov rd the fellow in the
next booth 5: 5 ar, please, Sugar.”

A moment later, they heard a man in the oppo-
te booth say, "Pass the honey, please, Honey.”
The biker cleared his throat, looked his gi
friend in the eyes and murmured, “Pass the
bacon, please, pig.

ked all of her students
id of work their fathers
ason, what does your father do for

10 tell the class what

did.

living?
“My father i
“Jennifer, w
ng?”
“My father’s an elec
“Gabe, what does
"My father's dead
“What did he do before he died?"
“He went, ‘Aaarghhh.”

penter:
does your father do for a liv-

ical engineer”
sur father do for a living?”

Heard a funny one lately? Send it on a post
card, please, to Party Jokes Editor, Playboy,
680 North Lake Shore Drive, Chicago, Hlinois
6061. $100 will be paid to the contributor
whose card is selected. Jokes cannot be returned.

Laugh along with Playboy on The Party Joke Lin
1-900-740-3311. Or tell a joke of your own! The

charge is only two dollars per minute.

42,

107

RS
222275649) 5,

IRIE
QUOS x

TEE

1 talk to you now, but please leave your name and number after

the sound of the tone and ГИ call you back a little after twilight!”

I can

m sorry,

“р,

= RA

POWER |

PLAY

from a classic mahogany
chris-craft to a wave-pounding
aronow alpha 45,
here's a roundup of the
hottest boats afloat

modern living
By JOHN WOOLDRIDGE

inst YOU reeL the power. The in-

tensity and thrill rise and fall as

you move the throttle. Beneath
you, the boat is almost alive with move-
ment, slashing across the waves, throw-
ing up brilliant white plumes of spray.
You feel the wind in your face, tugging
gently at the corners of your eyes. But
first you feel the power.

Powerboating is back, and if you've ev-
er imagined yourself at the helm of a
sleek needle-nosed craft cutting a swath
through the Gulf Stream or nailing the
throttle of a nimble runabout as you
head for your favorite fishing hole, now's
the time to go for it.

For those of you who feel a twinge of
guilt at the thought of running some gas-
guzzling, noisy stinkpot—lighten up.
Theres no denying powerboats burn
gas and diesel fuel, but the fuel crunch-
es of the Seventies sent marine-en-
gine makers and boatbuilders hurrying

Top: Aronows 45" Alpho 45 is on ecsily iden-

tified low-flying object with а high-flying

price—about $315,000 ond up, depending

‘on the engine ond the custom interior you se-

lect. Top speed is 90 mph. Hang on, Sloopy! >

Center: Donzis 16' runabout, the Sweet 16, gd A
also has o sweet bose price: $15,995. Top

speed is obout 50 mph. Bottom: Rugged, sto- ж
ble ond virtually unsinkoble, thofs Boston a
Whalers 25' Outrage 25 Cuddy. Its price: a

$35,666 without the power plont. Add twin --

200-hp outboords for obout $20,000 ond p

you're ready to fight fish on their own turf.

ILLUSTRATIONS BY GARY KELLEY

по

back to the drawing boards to create
lighter, stronger hulls, and back to De-
troit for gas-stingy power plants. The re-
sult: Todays four- and six-cylinder stern
drives crank out more power per pound
than ever; they run quieter, cooler and
cleaner; and they're a lot more reliable.

The same holds true for outboards.
Long gone are the days of blue smoke
and messy oil-and-gas mixing contain-
ers. On-board computers integrate fuel
injection, fire the ignition and monitor
operating temperatures and pressures—
adjusting all the details so your engine
starts casier, runs quicker and idles more
smoothly.

“Today's marine engines are also the
quietest ever. Sure, there are still macho
grandstanders who think that revving up.
dockside is a real turn-on or that un-
muffled through-transom exhausts are a
high-performance necessity. But more
and more boat owners are equipping
their boats with systems that keep down
loud noises until they're well away from

highly populated areas.

The following are six boats selected for
comfort, ample storage, reliable opera-
tion and abundant power for nimble per-
formance. Welcome aboard!

CHRIS-CRAFT 1930 MODEL 103

Among the powerboating pioneers
who created the pleasure factor in
boating, one name is legendary—
Christopher Columbus Smith, a turn-of-
the-century master builder of wooden
rowboats and duckboats. His decision to
install a naphtha-gas engine in a duck-
boat to improve its range and speed fos-
tered a company that carried his name to
international markets and gave birth to a
multibillion-dollar industry. Chris Smith
designs were also well known in the boat-
racing world. (continued on page 145)

Top: Life in the fost lone joins living well as
one of the best revenges when you climb
cboord Glostron’s 33' Carlson 33CSS thot
‘equipped with twin MerCruiser 454 Mognum
engines. Top speed is 70 mph. Bose price:
$BB140. Center: Wellerafts innovative 20"
Excalibur Phontom 20 feotures a unique dou-
ble-cowled deck with o fighter-pilot dosh-
board. Its bose price is $25,865, including o
‘MerCruiser 350 Magnum engine. Bottom:
Chris-Croft hos hand-crofied o mohogony
limited-edition version of its 24” 1930 Model
103. The price: $75,000, including a trailer.

PLAYBOY PROFILE

AARON NEVILLE’S

AMAZING GRACE

THE CLUB is crowded, but people automatically step out of the
way to let him pass. Hes a big man— massive, barrel-chested,
ominous—and he walks with a deliberate and slightly threat-
ening strut. If he crossed the street while you were stopped at
a light, yov'd instinctively lock your car doors.

His enormous bare arms are covered with street Навһ--а
chunky gold watch on one wrist, a thick silver bracelet on the
other—and crude tattoos. It says mom on his left forearm, and
above that there's a heart, above that a cross, above that his
name. Covering most of his right forearm 15 a larger, more in-
tricate, somewhat mysterious design; above it are the ragged,
faint outlines of others. The tattoos are faded, but you can tell
that he got them not from a pro but in a dingy back room
somewhere. They must have been pain-
ful, but then again, this doesn't look like
a man who'd be much bothered by pain.

Finally, he climbs onto the small stage,
settles his bulk onto a stool and nods to
the crowd. He doesn't smile; not now, not
for the next hour. His face, expression-
less, gives nothing away and lets no one
in. There's a gentleness in that face, but
you have to look hard to find it—past an-
other tattoo, a curved dagger covering
his left cheek, and past a large, dark mole
over his right eye. You can see why Taylor
Hackford cast him in Everybodys All-
American as "Man with Gun," the scariest
inhabitant of the black slum where Den-
nis Quaid goes to test his теше. Не
hardly needs a gun. Armed with only a
microphone, he looks dangerous.

And then Aaron Neville leans forward,
opens his mouth and sings in the voice of an angel.

Or maybe this is the voice that the angels would like to have:
pure, tremulous, fluttering into a tender falsetto and almost
impossibly beautiful. Years ago, when Bette Midler went to a
New Orleans club and heard it, she slid out of her chair and
melted onto the floor. Among his other fans and friends are
Keith Richards, Dennis Quaid, Bonnie Raitt, John Goodman,
Tim Reid—and Linda Ronstadt, who enlisted him to sing
four duets on her Cry like a Rainstorm, Howl like the Wind al-
bum and, in the process, kicked off a career resurgence that
found him appearing on Saturday Night Live and the Gram-

he was the lost soul of
music—an angry,
drugged-out thug with a
beautiful voice. finally,
he has reason to sing
like an angel

By STEVEPOND

my Awards (where he won two awards), singing the national
anthem at this year's Super Bowl and winning Folling Stone
magazines critics poll as the year's best male singer.

At the age of 49, it seems that Neville is finally hot. He has
been one of American music's finest and most distinctive
singers for most of three decades, both on his own and with
his family in the Neville Brothers, New Orleans first family of
rock and roll. But, strangely, he has made his living as a singer
for only a fraction of that time.

He had his first big hit, Tell It like It Is, back in 1966, but he
made no money from it. That pretty much was the story of his
career—he had a legendary voice and bad luck. He was cheat-
ed and bilked, making records but not money. His life spi-
raled downward into drugs and crime,
his music was unreleased or unheard, his
mistakes and frustrations mixing togeth-
er to destroy everything except that un-
mistakable voice. But the voice sustained
him. When he was in jail, he sang like ап
angel. When he was broke, on drugs and
angry he sang like an angel. And now
that he’s on the charts again, he's still
singing like an angel.

So that’s what he does tonight at Snug
Harbor, a jazz club on the fringes of New
Orleans’ Vieux Carré. The piano player,
who's his only accompanist, is a bit heavy-
handed, and Neville's repertoire is odd:
Hell sing a classic Fifties tune such as
Pledging My Love or Earth Angel, then
a standard such as Stardux or Danny
Boy, then a tune as overexposed and
schmaltzy as Billy Joel's Just the Way You
Are. And и doesn't matter—not the ртапаз 5 shortcomings,
not the зропу song selection—because in his voice, every-
thing sounds sublime.

*He just loves to sing," says Danicl Lanois, who produced
the last Neville Brothers album. "Aaron sees music as, ‘Oh, I
love this country song, and I like that Bob Dylan song, and I'll
happil a syrupy ballad’ There doesn't seem to be a dif-
ference in his mind. He's still innocent."

At the end of the night, this unlikely innocent launches into
Tell It like It Is, and the crowd sings along to а dassic ballad
that sounds as pure and unsullied (continued ст page 160)

ILLUSTRATION BY DAVID LEVINE

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ED ONEILL is flat-out on a couch in a Sunset Boulevard rehearsal
hall. one leg draped over the sofa's broken back, a rumpled
jacket puddled around him. It's Monday morning, half an hour
before the cast and staff of Married . . . with Children will sit ata
long table and read this week's script for the first ume. And
here's O'Neill, looking for all the world like Al Bundy, his sit-
comic persona. He looks weary. He looks beaten but unbowed.
He's sunk into the only piece of comfortable furniture in the
room, one long, loose sprawl of ex-jock bulk.

As viewers know, Al Bundy played football in high school. Ed
O'Neill played in college and had a tryout with the Piusburgh
Steelers. Both Al and Ed worry
that they're going w sed married... with
O'Neill talks with the director
about football and boxing—pure Children is tv's

AL But before the double image most outlandish

fuses into focus, the actor reach-
es into his pocket and pulls out a hit; but if you
prop of his own: dental floss. Weis meet

The director scoots around the
echoey hall with what will seem, Some real
by the end of the week, like ro characters, go
more than a daily dose of hyste-
ria—this is a technically tough backstage
episode, he says. 118 gonna rain
inside the Bundy house. Each leak is diagramed and numbered
on the set plan, and water is one of the toughest things to pho-
tograph, especially on video tape, but it's gonna be great! It's
brilliant formula! It’s “Al gets the shit kicked outa him!" It's “Al
the boob!" Look what the poor schmuck's doing now—he's
falling off the roof! Oh, man, grat stuff?

O'Neill listens, O'Neill doesn't listen to what will seem, by the
end of the week, no more than customary cheerleading. And he
flosses, which we know Al would never do. Al once held a vi-
cious crowd at bay with his two ripe shoes. The man's armpits—
take it from Peg, his wife—are “the doorway to another

dimension.” Bundy, as his fans know so well, is not hygienically
inclined.

In come the other actors. the writers, sundry assistants, a
jeans-and-high-tops crowd, plus a suit from Columbia, the stu-
dio that makes and owns the series, and a suit from Fox, the net-
work that broadcasts it. If you didn't know better, you might
think these two suits were important to the show. You might

article By PAMELA MARIN

HANGING OUT
WITH THE

BUNDYS us

ILLUSTRATION BY PAMELA HOBBS

PLAYBOY

even think they ran things around here.
That would be a mistake. The power in
this room belongs to the show's birth par-
ents, executive producers Ron L
and Michael G. Moye—The Guys. If
didn't know bette
Guys pumped gas. Leavitt describes h
self and his partner as “just two funny
guys, a black guy and a Jewish guy who
write jokes." They do a lot more than
write jokes, and what they do has earned
each of them a small fortune, none of
which is apparent at first gla
Here's Leavitt, Jewish guy, 42, in a bat-
tered gray Tshirt and jeans. His clothes
look as if they've been through the dry
le once too often, though they dont
сасу look fresh-a sy clean. His
hair is longish and neglected. His checks
sprout two days growth. His partner,
Moye, 35, wears a sleeveless Нагі
Davidson T-shirt and black jeans, an
outfit that showcascs his weight-trained
body. He is compact, shorter than Leavitt
and a notch more stylish in a fisherman's
cap and diamond-stud carring. He uses

the word outlaws, somewhat ironically, to
describe his and Leavitós relationship
with various forms of authority; rst

glance, its not hard to picture these two
starring in another Fox hit, Americas
Most Wanted.

When its time for the actors to read
aloud from the script for “Who'll Stop
the Rain?"“—beuer known around the
set as The Leaky Roof Show—Leavitt
stands. He waits for a moment, but the
chatter doesn't subside. He raises his
arms in a halfhearted gesture for anen-
tion, looking rather like
naling a base runner sale.
says, almost as an aside. “Hello?”

Gradually, the group quiets and Leav-
itt, in his soft-pedaled stand-up-comedi-
ап delivery, rolls ош a few lines about
ings and the competition—its sweeps
month, so last nights show was up

Farrah getting naked or some
plus it was bumped back 15
ngeles because of a foot-
he
says, and everyone laughs, and the two
suits laugh loudest, and then it's time to
start the reading, so Leavitt sits down.

Anyhow,” he says, opening his script,
“lets sce what we got.”

What they've got is slash-and-burn TV.
"They have a show that sloshes mud and
nd stomps through a china
a sitcom that
com conventions and succeeds where so
many clones have failed. Married . . . with
Children pokes its fingers in the eyes of a
rter century of benevolent dads and

s and cloying kids. It's ag-
ely low-forehead, maliciously fun-
ny. It's the antidote to Cosbyization. In a
medium that increasingly wants to teach
us little life lessons—look! There's Doo-

minutes in Lc
ball game, “But fuck it, we're rolli

gie Howser, M.D., learning about death
and getting his first boner!— Married
revels in frivolity. Nothing is taught, re-
vealed, espoused. No issues are spilled
and solved. Al will never get seriously ill.
Peg will never debate whether or not to
ave an abortion. If Al comes home
stinking drunk, Peg will not say to him,
“Al, you have a drinking problem. May-
be you should do something about it.”
None of that kind of stuff will ever
pen. The Guys promise.
.

When Fox was just an itch in media
maven Rupert Murdoch's wallet, sitcom
vets Leavitt and Moye were seriesless.
They were “in development.” They were
“languishing in hell,” says Leavitt. The
Guys had been partners for а while, hav-
ing met on The Jeffersons, a show they ex
tive-produced together in the early
hues. Their combined résumés in-
cluded writing or producing credits for
Happy Days, Laverne & Shirley, Silver
Spoons and Sanford and San, They'd had
a bellyful of situation-comedy formula, a
pabulum Moye describes as “wrapping
everything up in a neat Није package
cach week so the cast can group-grope
up the stairs at the end of the show"
They were sick of “the niceness, the sug
ar, the saccharine.” You know, Moye s
“the bullshit.

Leavitt and Moye are in Leavitt's office
on Moni
liner the
Frankenst
shadows. A faded piñata
the ceiling, Plastic wea

floor, A

place looks more like a dorm room than
like an executive office, its collegi
mospheries enhanced by the hussy-on-
achog biker poster and especially by
Leavitt’s desk, a small, shabby lump
buried in paper and topped with a dirty
ashtray, a bottle of mouthwash and а
king-size jar of antacid.

5 murky squalor that the
stall writers and two executive
cobble their ant-sitcom to-
gether. Next door, Moye has his own
office, а tidy spread that hardly looks
used, and along the hall are the writers’
nests, but this is the creative cell's home
base. This is where they nail down the
idea for each show and work each script
scene by scene, line by line even. From
here, one writer departs to bang out a
first draft, which is then revised, before
and during rehearsals, by the gang of
eight. The Guys also sit in the control
booth during the Friday-night tapings
before a raucous studio audience,
they fine-tune the edit that becomes 22
of completed show. ‘Theirs is an
uncommon schedule for executive pro-
ducers, but then, unproducerly Leavitt
and Moye do not "do lunch." They do not
аке meetings.” They do not ст

around town blabbing on their c.
phones—they don't have car phones.

“We hate that Hollywood shit,” Moye
says. “Its boring.”

We like to work," says Leavitt.

Their work has surely made them
M.VPs at Fox. It is a source of delight for
them now, a measure of success, that
when Married debuted in April 1987,
Fox's network of affiliated stations was so
marginal, "we wer .B. radio in
half the country,” says Moye.

"Yeah, you brought in your radio, then
you got a coat hanger for reception," says
Leavitt.

Horrifying," Moye says.

But there they were, in development

hell. (“That's when the studio pays you
for thinking, so you're supposed to
think,” says Leavitt. “You come into the
office and you turn on the TV and watch
The Peoples Court. Then you go out and
buy gum.”) And into their offices came
Garth Ancier, head of Fox programing at
the time. He got down on his knees. He
begged for Leavitt and Moye.
From his knees, Ancier made the one
nd only seductive promise he could, and
it sealed the deal: “You can do what you
want,” he said. “We'll leave you alone.”

“It sounded lofty, an alternative net-
work, all this freedom,” says Leavitt.

"It was a good carrot,” says Moye.

It was time to bust a move.
rom the pens of these two outlaws
came Al Bundy, shoe salesman, sports
inker, slob, hitched for 16
1 work or cook or
clean, who shops, watches Oprah, eats
bonbons, smokes. Al and Peg have two
kids: a wily young son named Вид—аћ-
er the beer—and a slutty daughter, Kelly.
Next door live a Benz-driving banker
couple, Steve and Marcy—Bundy foils.

Married stormed into а cathode-lit
world of cuddly babies, cocooning Yup-
pics and beatific Michael J. Fox. lt
hawked once to clear its throat and spat
out a blob of dialog. There was no nice-
ness, no sugar, no saccharine. There were
just jokes, razor-edged, pitch black.

Morning in the Bundys Chicago
home, act one, scene one, episode one. Al
domps downstairs and peers into his
empty fridge. No juice, he tells couch-
spud Peg, She says, Buy some on the way
home from work.

AL “I'm sorry Why didn't I think of
? Sure, I don't mind doing the shop-
ping, too. Anything else I can do to make
your life a little easier?"

Peg: “You could shave your back."
“Hey, that hair's there for a reason.
s you off of me at night."
and sloth themes will endure
for Al and Peg, as they have for other
shows before and since. The Bundys are
descended from the Kramdens and the
Bunkers; they've spawned a mainstream

(continued on page 128)

“You are conversant, I assume, with the laws of salvage. . . ."

HUNG MAT

miss stone revealed in more ways than one

PHOTOGRAPHY BY PHILLIP DIXON

haron Stone has a voice like honey poured over a night

of whiskey and smoke. She makes an answering-ma-

chine tape—"Leave me a message and ГИ get back to

you”—sound like an invitation to seduction. Now that

she has finally grown into it, she likes that voice but

candidly admits that it was somewhat embarrassing

when she was a teenager in a two-traffic-light town in
Pennsylvania. An appetite for ad-
venture and better food than she
could get at the local diner drove
her from Meadville to New York
City. Her drop-dead good looks and
that seductive voice didn't hurt. She
modeled for Eileen Ford, studied
with an acting coach—and waited
Not, as it turned out, for long.
Woody Allen cast her in a small but
pivotal role—that of the blonde god-
dess he glimpses on a passing
train—in 19805 Stardust Memories.
A role as the delectable waitress
turned petulant movie star in Irrec-
oncilable Differences, opposite Shel-
ley Long and Ryan O'Neal, followed.
Some 15 films later, Sharon still
looks like an ingénue. A rich in
génue. She drops a wad of cash in
Giorgio Armani's the way other peo-
ple in L.A. drop names. It’s a town
where, as she's the first to admit over
dinner, "people are more concerned
with being fashionable than with
being decent" Sharon says what
she thinks—and she thinks a lot.

Coming scon to о theater neor you: Shoron
Stone os Arnold Schworzenegger's wife, Lori,
in Total Recall. That's Shoron in two scenes from
the movie above; more of Sharon (on the next
few pages) may have you climbing the wolls. as “those awful African movies”

“Just when I think I've reached capacity—ploop!—another bi-
zarre concept drops into my head, where I was positive I had
no more room, and my mind is stretched. ГИ bet the inside of
my head looks like a pregnant woman's stomach. I shudder to
think what Lam preparing to deliver. Probably another smart
remark.” Some men don't understand Sharon. Others adore
her. Buck Henry says, "Sharon has the kind of face I'd leave
my wife for. Since I'm not married,
ГИ have to leave someone else's
wife" Sharon is a piece of work.
Great long legs. Clairol-commercial
blonde hair. White, sparkling teeth.
But she laughs off compliments.
"Some men used to think I was a bit
formidable. Unfortunately, I was too
young to realize it at the time. But
I've reached the age at which they're
starting to look at me as a breeder.
They say, `1 want those genes. I want
those long legs and that blonde hair
and those white teeth. 1 want them
now!' Of course, those men are usu-
ally short, dark and nearsighted,
which is lucky for me, because that
happens to be my type." Meanwhile,
there's her acting career, which has
always gone well but somewhat un-
evenly She characterizes the two
pictures in which she co-stars with
Richard Chamberlain—a remake of
the H. Rider Haggard thriller King
Solomon's Mines and its sequel, Allan
Quatermain and the Lost City of Gold—

119

ИТИ
THEM

TITE

Ithough Sharon has worked with such stars as James Caan and Martin

Sheen, she has also shown up in some middling fare (Police Academy IV.

Action Jackson, Above the Law). After winning plaudits as Robert Mitchum’s

philandering daughter-in-law Janice Henry in the ABC miniseries War and Remem-

brance, she has started rising, like cream, to the top. Tolal Recall, in which Sharon
plays Arnold Schwarzenegger's wife, is due for nationwide release June 15, and she
has three more films—Personal Choice, Scissors and a remake of Blood and Sand—
wrapped or in progress. As if that weren't enough, she has also landed a cosmetics
account—for which, typically, she interviewed sans make-up. “I didnt wear any for
nted me as Гат, and that

the Playboy shoot, either.” she says. “The photographer w
was just fine. Wet hair, no make-up, no clothes. That's about as naked as you can get. A
director once said to me, "The reason men want you to wear make-up is that when you

don't, they feel they have to be honest with you because you're honest with them."

123

124

“1 like a man
more expansive than his penis. Lips really do it for me: big, full

ex isso much more in the mind than in the body,” Sharon say:

whose br:
lips. When 1 was fourteen, this boy told me he'd teach me how to kiss if Га
meet him in the auditorium during our free period. He sure taught me how to kiss,

how to feel it, how to give someone room to kiss you back. I was very young and sexual-

ly immature then.” Mischievously, she adds, "I was always a great student, however”

She tosses that blonde mane. “Masculine men are an endangered species. We've en-
dangered them by not experiencing our equality as women but by trying to be like
men. It's an enormous mistake. And we're so afraid that if we reveal ourselves sexually
to a person, he will steal our soul. So we pick people who could never possibly do that,
people who are bad for us." She sighs. "1 heard that Kathleen Turner's husband told
her, ‘I may not be the best lover in the world, but I know what you like.’ That's being

the best lover in the world!” Twirling her fork, Sharon laughs. “This is a preuy sexy

conversation. Do we get to have a smoke when its over?" MARILYN GRABOWSKI

HAIR AND MAKE-UP BY JOHNNY HERNANDEZ FOR CELESTINE CLOUTIER, LA-

БЕ таға!

PK KEY BO Е

128

THE BUNDYS i; fron page 116)

"God, Peg says, as Als convulsions give way to

stunned slump. Tt smells like ham in here.”

ratings queen named Roseanne. But
where your standard sitcom dribbles in-
nuendo, the Bundy bunch slam-dunks.

A father-daughter moment.

Al: “Come here а minute, sweetheart. 1
want you to tell Uncle Steve what your
guidance counsclor said were the careers
you'd be best suited for”

Kelly: “Lumber-camp toy or the other
woman.”

In-laws

Al: “Peg, 1 wonder why you never went
after a guy like your father. Or weren't
there any chronically unemployed social
parasites around the month you were in
your prime?

Scheduling

Peg: “Saturday, eleven ем: Make love.
Eleven-oh-five: Al goes to sleep. Eleven-
oh-six: Finish making love.”

Memorie.

Peg: “By the way Al. am I still attrac-

Al: “Peg. уоште still the same knee-in-
the-groin тои were when you were si
teen.”

With four seasons under its belt, Mar-
ried brought in numbers nobody
thought possible. a wild wet dream of

A. C. Nielsen tabulations spewing weekly:
The last Christmas show copped the

highest ratings of any pro
Fox networks brief history Some
episodes have even won their Sunday-
night time slot. beating the dodderi
old alphabets—ABC. NBC.
their own game. In November. sweeps
month. Married—competing with scary.
naked Farrah, е al—aw са
18,600,000 viewers nationally, meaning
that about a sixth of all TVs were tuned
to Al and Peg. This on four-year-old Fox,
which is still sometimes referred to in
news stories as a “network.” the quotation
marks meaning "not really”

Remember The Late Show Starring
Joan Rivers? How about the show with
George Scou—George С. Scott —as
the Presiden? What was that thing
called?

George and Joan enlisted in Fos's first
battalion of network challengers. They
dambered from the Foxhole and were
shows were com!

season was this starless little sitcom by
Leavin and Move. Setting the mood.
right there with the opening credits, was
Sinatra singing Low and Marriage
While Ole Blue Eves crooned, glassv-

eved Al slumped on his couch and
passed cash to cach member of his fami
lx including his dog. млако, the credits
read—then, slammed on screen with a
prison-cell clank—wrri cries. The
show soon became one of the very few
reasons for Fox's air raids to continue de-
spitc a crimson bottom linc.
.

Tuesday in the rehearsal hall. The cast
is loose, teasing and touching like а
bunch of Cleavers or Bradys or Keatons.
O'Neill clowns with the actors who play
the Bundy David Faustino and
blonde siren tina Applegate.
David С son and Amanda Bearse.
who twitch to life the neighbor couple,
Steve and Marcy mix with their col-
leagues and circle back 10 tête-à-tête at
the perimeter of the makeshift set. Katey

aka. Peg Bundy, romps around
the big hall munching carrots. picking at
a bagel. smoking. singing. Sagal spent
the late Seventies and early Eighties as a
Harlette in Bette Midlers stage show and
as a backup singer for Bob Dylan. Etta
James and Tanya Tucker. In The Leaky
Root Show, she does а tew lines trom My
Girl in time with raindrops falling into
buckets in Al and Peg’s bedroom. “I got
sunshine.” she sings sweetly. “on а cloudy
day” Her clear soprano is a startling con-
trast 10 her throaty speaking voice and
booming laugh.
brought full-figured sultriness to
a role conjured for a frump. “A woman
Iving around the house in a bathrobe” is
how The Guys imagined Peg. Someone
who never got dressed. Sagal—who new
er studied acting—read the pilot script
and said, “For (wo people who talk to
each other this way. there has to be some
hidden clement of hotness.” The ele-
ments come out of hiding in make-up
id wardrobe. where the carthy Sagal із
transformed into а K mart tart in boul-
fant hairdo. push-up bra. spandex pants
and spikc-hecled slippers. the last pro:
ducing Pegs tottering trot

Sagal plops down on the rehearsal-hall
couch. where O'Neill was last seen
flossing. and pages through her script.
Nearby is an overstuffed chair and a cof-
fee table, the key props of the Bundy |
ing room. A couple of matt will be
used for Aland Рец bed. where. as view-
ers know. Peg sleeps with hands
clenched around Als neck and her knees

‚ Al will battle not only the
weather and his damaged roof but also.
inevitably, his doubting family. Why not

just call a professional roofer?

here. right there. Peg. is the prob-
lem with Ameri avs Al. “We've lost
our spirit of self-reliance. Something's
leaking, call someone. Something's bro-
ken, call someone. One of the kids suffers
ruptured appendix. call someone
Whatever happened to the old American
spirit of сап fix it myself"? What hap-
pened to rugged American manhood

“We dont know yet, Dad.” savs Bud.

“Kelly’s tests aren't back from the lab.”
Al Bundy will patch the leaks, but it
will be a Pyrrhic victory: Twenty-two min-
utes and two patio-bound nose dives I
er. the errant shoe clerk hangs upside
down from his roof. mumbling a pitiable
“Help me.”

The script reads funny. even in re-
hearsal. with actors flubbing lines they
haven't memorized and breaking charac-
ter to laugh at the better jokes. Sagal has
a tough time getting through a line in the
second act. It has been raining on Als
side of the bed. Hes damp but deter
mined 10 take to the roof in the morning.
While Peg fusses with her nails, Al reach-
€s up to turn off his bedside lamp. When
the show airs, Al is seen in this moment
framed with bolts of white light, a corny
production effect for the electrical cur-
Tent surging through his soggy body
And when the show airs, Sagal delivers
her line without giggling

“God.” Peg says, as Als convulsions
give way to a stunned slump. “It smells
like ham in here.

When they signed on. The Guys
thought Fox would fold after 13 weeks.
They figured they'd spike the ball a few
times. vent some professional frustration.
then get back to the bullshit. "We thought
it would be just a neat thing for the novel-
Ly pile in video stores.” Move says. The
novelty, as it turned out, was their sue
cess.

Nielsen numbers multiplied each sea-
son: 5,800,000 curious viewers tuned in
10 the first episode: more than 15,100,000
were watching а усаг and a h;
in December 1988. One among those
п ons was а wealthy housewife іп
Bloomfield. Hills. Michigan: the shows
most vocal antifan.

Terry Rakolta was described in press
accounts. including a front-page story in
The New York Times. as the wife of a con-
struction-company owner, a country-cub
member, a mother of th sat down
with her tvkes one Sunday night a
watched Married with Children,
what she saw was not at all to her lil
She was “appalled.” she told the Times.
The show was “soft-core pornography”
The episode that shivered Rakolta’s
timbers was titled “Her Cups Runneth
Over.” I's known around the set as The
Bra Show. Pegs in a funk because the bra

(continued on page 140)

A
Í
|
|
ا‎
22-5

"I guess Im just a trendy kind of guy . . . you know—the disco scene, then
Jogging, white wine, oat bran. . . . Right now, I'm mainly into fucking. . . .”

que

S T |

MATT GROENING

TE years ago, Matt Groening was mak-
ing money by delivering copies of Ihe Los
Angeles Reader, an alternative newspaper
ihat had begun running his talky, simplisti-
cally drawn comic strip called "Life in
Hell." Today, he delivers just Ihe strip—to
more than 200 newspapers, whose reader
ignore their own feelings of victimization
long enough lo sympathize with such un-
likely protagonists as a rabbit named Binky,
his one-eared illegitimate son Bongo and
two possibly gay identical twins named
Akbar and Jeff (The strip also contains a
host of nameless and deleterious authority
figures.) Late last year, a new family of
Groening characters—the Simpsons—de-
buted on TV, giving the Fox Network a
Sunday-night hit that has cemented its im-
mediate future.

Groening (rhymes with “braining”) is а
reasonably sloppy bear of a man given lo
wearing big loud shirts and making ruth-
безу funny observations on the mess we've
gotien ourselves into. Growing up in Port-
land, Oregon, as the son of distressingly
sympathetic parents, he vowed “never lo
have to write a résumé,” a goal facilitated by
his attendance at Evergreen State College
in Washington. “It had no grades and no
required courses,” he explains. “It was a
magnet for every creative weirdo in the
Pacific Northwest" —including cartoonist!
humoristhwriter Lynda J. Barry, who credits
Groening as a major influence on her own
work.

These days, Groening can be found at ei
ther Acme Features Syndicate or an unas
suming rented house in Pacific Palisades,
where the Groen.

Š ings and their

the simpsons’ © „кулгонду.
Homer, ате living

creator on the шш s шы
5 Ч home is completed
serious busi- ие awmi
spiritual homeland.

ness Of Ca D Venice. Califor
та. Мей Tesser

toons, the found him at home.
TC | He was most im-
dignity of Chil pressa by the uos
space, “which strikes

ШЕП and the ^— 75:5 balance
between high-tech

corrupt ШЕ s pof.
the-line Macintosh,

lovable nature сора, ax та:
chine—and piles of

of man comic йды; гите
records, "Simpsons"
БЕ | paraphernalia and
en

just plain junk. Its

like a garage, except its inside the house.
Matt calls it his Batcave, but I dont think
there were quite enough bugs to actually
support bats."

TLAYBOY: You've named the pson
adults and their two daughters after your
own parents and sisters. So after each
episode, who calls you first? And what do
they have to say?

cROENING: My parents call me Sunday
ight right after the show is over. They
always love it and then their favorite lines
of their corresponding characters come
out of their mouths, But the Simpsons
aren't really my family They're only a
fraction of my family's wild behavior. My
family is not as stupid or as ugly as the
Simpsons. They're very funny, but unlike
the Simpsons, they intend to be funny
and they're all witty. There are elements
of my family in the cartoon, but I also
have a brother and a sister | have not hu-
miliated by naming cartoon characters
after them. 1 don't know who in the fami-
ly is more offended

PLAYBOY: You've always spoken so well of
your father. What does it mean to you to
be his son—apart from blood type?
GROENING: My dad is a cartoonist, film
maker and writer who has lived by his
wits. By example, he showed that you
could do whatever you wanted to do in
life—that a certificate didn't matter and
that you could do creative stuff. I know 1
must drive my fath гу. because Гуе
gotten a lot of attention with my car
toons, which reflects on him, but Гус
given one of my doltish cartoon charac-
ters his first name, and that has to annoy
him just a little bit, His friends call him
Homer Simpson now. | didn't think it
through, because 1 originally did The
Simpsons as short cartoons for The Tracey
Ullman Show, a
would become a T V series, I didn't ге:
think it would. If 1 had и to до over
again, 1 probably wouldn
this character Homer. It w in-
side joke for my family that has backfired
іп a very big way. That's why I had to
name my son Homer, to make up for it.

PLAYBOY: Here's a brief history of prime-
time television cartoons: The Flintstones,
The Jetsons, The Simpsons. Is this progres-
sion a sign of our times:

GROENING: | have a feeling that one of the

reasons The Simpsons got on the air asa
prime-time animated series is that the
executives who were able to make that
de n grew up on The Flintstones and
The Jetsons and were aware that it's possi-
ble to have cartoons on at night—though
1 think there really isn't that much that
we have in common with those old shows.
I have to grant that there was a clarity of
design in the old Hanna-Barbera car-
toons, and the voices were pretty good.
But the writing was atrocious.

rLAYBOY: What is Bart Si
tiny—grade school to ret
seventy-hve words or less?

GROENING: Јо very hard to picture Bart
beyond the onset of acne. 1 think he's in
for a very woubled adolescence and ulti-
mately a pretty sad life. He's probably at
the height of his joy and exuberance at
moment. There are few conse
quences to his actions right now—he
paints graffiti and makes prank phone
calls. But when he graduates to petty
theft— no, it doesn't look good for Bart.

5.
rLavgov: What was life like growing up in
Oregon?

GROENING: 1 lived between the old Port-

land Zoo and the new Portland Zoo, in
an arboretum. It was a giant park and
the arboretum was on one end of it, with
very peculiar trees in the middle of the
woods. It was idyllic. The old zoo closed
when I was about five years old and my
friends and I used to play in the aban-
doned grizzly-bear grotto and swim in
the pools and sneak into the caves on the
side of the hill; it was great for a

т.лувоу: That all sounds so nature-ori-
ented, so rooted—and so unlike Binky
[in Life in Hell) or the Simpsons, or any of
characters. What prompted
into urban and suburban

morning: Life in Hell was inspired by my
move to Los Angeles in 1077. 1 got here

in August; it was about
hundred and two degrees; my car
broke down in the fast lane of the Holly-
wood Freeway while 1 was listening to
drunken deejay who was giving his last
program on a local rock station and bit-
terly denouncing the stations manage-
ment. And then 1 had a series of lousy
jobs here. I wanted to be a writer, so I an-
swered an ad (continued on page 136)

131

PLAYBOY

COLLECTION

things you can live without, but who wants to?

These face-hugging SAS 4000 sunglasses have unbreakable polycarbanate lenses that screen
out 95 percent of blue light and 100 percent af UV rays. The leather weather shields and lanyard
are remavable, from Swiss Army Brands, Sheltan, Connecticut, $115, including a. snap case.

PHOTOGRAPHY BY JAMES INBROGHO

Isofit Systems’ Isolator is a
gut-toughening machine
that works on building
and tapering the abda-
men without lower-back
stress, from Design 1,
Vista, California, $1295.

Created in the spirit of
the late Thirties, the Goth-
am phone, by Wwtton,
feotures inset touch-tone
dialing and last-number
redial, distributed by Cice-
na, New York, about $100.

From merry old London
comes Czech & Speake of
Jermyn Street's No. 88
line of men's toiletries:
soap, $18, after-shave gel,
$24, ofter-shave lotion,
$40, and cologne, $65.

доа"
== 8 E

Из doggone simple. The
Hot Diggity Dogger Ma-
chine broils two hot dogs
and toasts two buns simul-
taneously, by Welbilt Ap-
pliance, New Hyde Park,
New York, $70. Hot dog!

Pioneer's CI-MéR Multi-
Play Cassette Deck, $450,
holds six audio cassettes
and it can be coupled with
the new PD-M730 six-disc
CD player, about $600,
to record in sequence.

Developed by Cartell Inc.
ond engineered by Chrys-
lẹr and OKI Telephone,
The Visorphone will be
available soon in many
new Dodges and Chrys-
lers, about $1000 installed.

Carbon-composite EOS
woods and irons have
a larger sweet spot,
by Yamaho Professional
Golf Equipment, $315 for
o set of EOS woods,
$1334 for eight irons.

PLAYBOY

136

MATT GROENING (continued from page 131)

“One of the great thrills is I now get paid for doing
what I used to get sent to the principals office for”

in the L.A. Times that read, “Help wanted:
the last in a long
an eight

was already a foot high. It w
of the movie Sunset Boulevard. This
nobody you ever heard of. He had done
some В Westerns and was very much on
the. periphery of Hollywood. The whole
book was centered on his mother, with
whom he lived until she died at the age of a
hundred and two. A typical line in his au
tobiography was, “And that day, I met
cil B. De Mille. 1 immediately ran home to
tell Mother. "Mother; E said, ‘I met Cecil B.
De Mille today.”

“On the other hand, if theyre not intere

PLAYBOY: You had a succession of lousy jobs.
What was the worst one of them all?
GROENING: Its a tossup. I wrote slogans for
horror movies at some little advertising
agency, but it never used any. For one of the
Living Dead movies, I wrote, “First they
want to meet you, then they want to eat
you.” You have to ask which is wor:
working as a dishwasher in an old-folks’
home or doing landscaping at a sewage-
treatment plant. I mean, these were pretty
bad jobs. But vou know what? Those plants
grow really well.

PLAYBOY: So in spite of the neuroses crawl-
ing out of your work, vou actually had a

in my body, I think theres something wrong with them.”

fairly well-adjusted childhood?
GROENING: In some ways. | revolted against
my school, my teachers and various adn
istrators, because it was impossible 10 re-
volt against my perfect parents—who were
very supportive; they thought the teachers
were idiots, (00. 1 got in trouble in school

е
for drawing cartoons. Yeah, they used 10

get confiscated. In fact, one of the great
thrills of my life is that 1 now get paid for
doing what I used to get sent to the princi-
рају olfice for. So, anyway, I spent many,
many long hours in the principal's office
staring at the ceiling and counting the lit-
tle dots in the tiles. And at a very early age,
I decided I had to somehow make this time
that was being wasted pay off. And so 1
wrote about it. I kept a diary, and 1 eventu-
ally turned part of it into a series of comic
strips, and then I wrote a book called
School Is Hell. W 1 had known that I w.
ally gonna do it—go off and be a c
st who got to write a book called School Is
Ней would have been a much happier
kid. In fact, to this day, I get a thrill when
kids write to me and say they wore а
SCHOOL Is HELL Tshirt 10 class and got
kicked out. | say, “All right, I annoy-
ing those teachers!"

PLAYBOY: Your wife, Deborah Caplan, is
vour business manager, and by all ac-
counts, shes largely responsible for your
success. What happens in the case of a
really ser

demands of busine
GROENING: I defer to her. In all cases. She
handles the business, because I'm slow and
naive when it comes to that. My artist pals
and I used to just hang around, scrape up
change out of the seat cushions to go split a
burger at Astro Burger, and we used 10
wonder whether, if we ever made it, we
werc going to live the exact same lives and
just have thousands more comic books and
records, And. weren't for Deborah, that
would indeed be the case. We've done very
well by cach other, going back to the days
when Llived in riment in Hollywood
that was so dangerous that she wouldnt
after dark. It was a neighborhood
full of drug peddling, random fights, po-
lice helicopters and, worst of all, the gu

below me and his irritating roc
night. | had a war with this guy that I.
for months. T he weapons were speakers. 1
put my speakers face down on the floor
and played very loud, throbbing reggae
1 tried to vibrate him out of that apart-
nent building, and that didn’t work—until
ne day, | took a cinder block out of my
book shell and dropped it on the floor. All
of a sudden, his music went off, and then I
heard footsteps charging up the stairs, and
he was pounding on my door, saying, "Did
you just drop something?" And 1 said it
was my boot or something, and he said,
“My light fixture just fell out of the

ceiling.” I never had a problem with him

fier tha

10.

PLAYBOY: We live in a time of de
eracy rates, when big-city kids aren't r
ning t0 read, and it seems plausible
¿significance
ture of the future

Groenia: My cartoons aren't really for the
people who can barely read; they're more
for the people who can read prose and get
tired of all those long, str
gray columns. There are other comics for
the dumb kids.

pravnoy: Reflecting
on your comic strip,
onc is forced to ask,
Why rabbits? And
were you always
planning to make all
the other characters
different animals, or
did that just sort of
evolve?

GROENING: 1 used to
draw many other
kinds of animals i

high school. I drew
doglike bears and
bearlike dogs. None
of my friends could
tell what they were,
except for the rab-
bits. They saw the
two big ears and
they understood
immediately. Also,
there's an honorable
history of rabbits i
pop culture: Peter
Rabbit, Bugs Bun-
ny Rabbü Кедих—
the John Updike
stuff. Crusader Rab-
bit. And, of course,
the Playboy Rabbi
Head. 1 actually

modeled Binky after

the Playboy Rabbit

Head caps—you know, those tr
‚se guys wear who look like they've
never seen Playboy in a million years. 1
wonder how Hef feels about those guys.

12.

PLAYBOY: Let's have the complete low-down
on Akbar and Jeff, those two clowns with
the fezzes. How did you end up creating
them? Why do they look like that? And by
the , they're now officially out of the
closet, right?

GROENING: I don't know what you mean,
Akbar and Jeff, as I have maintained from
the beginning, are brothers or lovers or
possibly both. Whatever outrages you the
more, that’s probably what they are. Actu-

KENTUCKY STRAIGHT 80

8 years old, 101 proof, pure Kentucky:

ally when I was a kid, my friends and 1

sed to try to draw Charlie Brown; we
couldn't do it very well, he's a very hard
character to draw —second only to Popeye,
E think, to get right. And most of wl
we'd draw would come out like these
macrocephalic mutants. Eventually, we just
turned them into these giant-nosed crea-
tures, and we thought it was hilarious to
have both eyes on the same side of thc
nose. They still have Charlie Browns little
striped shirt, and then later, | added a fez.
It was just a sartorial touch. In fact, I keep
hoping that fezzes will become popular —1
keep looking in Playboy fashion sprcads for
young men wearing fezzes

You can have a full
quor cabinet without
Wild Turkey,

You just cant
complete one.

TURKEY

BON WHISKEY ALC BY VOL 505% AUSTIN NOHOLS DISTILLING OC

13.

maynoy: How many words of pop-culture
trash would you estimate you read in a
weck?

GROENING: Well, 1 ski
an

I vowed from
arly age not to let anything be beyond
me; that is, nothing is too low or too high
1 love Chinese martialarts movies
and—let's sec, what's on the low end?

14.

alot

PLAYBOY: Forgive us, but we were going to
bring up the ugly specter of existentialism
in your work. Did you perhaps read a lot of
Sartre when you were young?

GROENING: When I was six, I warped m

үзе

by reading a book called The Child from
Five to Ten, which delineates behavior of
children month by month. I knew what I
was supposed to be doing, and the sex
questions 1 was supposed to be asking—
they didn't provide the answers, they just
said these are the questions. And of course
1 did none of that. My mother was mys-
tified by me as a result. My parents read
this book and they said, “Y° know. you nev-
er acted like the book said.” That's because
I read the book. Then, in college, I studied
Kierkegaard and Nietzsche. You study that
in the winter, in a rain forest in Olympia,
Washington, and you get very moody.

PLAYBOY: Here's а ño. It's 1996, you're
forty-two years old,
Life in Hell is a sta-
ple of every paper i
America; Groening-
land, the theme
ark, has spawned
Groening World
and Akbar Center
down in Florida;
nd little Homer,
your son, is about to
enter the first grade.
What advice do you
give him about the
hell that is school?

GROENING: Well, Pd
take him up into the
giant five-hundred-
foot statue of Lynda
Barry, where жед
cat in her revolving
head —because Um
going to have grant
statues of all my
friends—and Га
hand him a copy of
School Is Hell and
say “Read и and
weep.” ГИ find the
best school that
1 can for 1, ONE

where there's а min-
imum of busywork
on

nd an empha:
learning and ma
taining children's
dignity. 1 don't think
necessary for education to be

able.

16.

па лувоу: We know that a lot of your favor-
не cartoonists are women, and that you've
given Homer and Bart Simpson essentially
stupid, defensive and braggadocian per-
sonalities. One wonders, Do you, in fact,
hate men? Is The Simpsons an antimale
program?

GROENING: No! No! Though, now that you
mention it, I try to take a stance with the
people who have power, and men general-
ly have power, or more power. But The
Simpsons pokes fun at the entire human
race, everybody in authority. Basically, the

137

PLAYBOY

138

Simpsons are lovable but corrupt, as is ev-
exybody in their universe.

17.

»Lavsow: Why did you start doing the seg-
ments on The Tracey Ullman Show? Had
you always wanted to turn your creations
into animated characters?
словмимо: Yeah, Id always wanted to do
animated cartoons, because it just seemed,
from watching Rocky and Bullwinkle and
George of the Jungle when I was a kid, that
there was room on TV for primitive ani-
i ng. And I had
some theories about animation movement,
stuff that is very hard to articulate, but
when ya sec it, ya see it. So I experimented
with that on The Tracey Ullman Show, and
it proved to be successful: You could do
very funny visual humor with a minimal
expenditure of energy. I love virtuoso ani
mation—the great Disney cartoons and
the great Warner Bros. cartoons—but the
stuff that’s near virtuoso I find merely tire-
some. And given the nature of the time
limitations and budget for The Simpsons,
we can't do any of that stuff. Besides, as
great as Disney animation is, that rubbery,
blubbery constant wishy-washy movement
is not appropriate to The Simpsons.

rLAYBOY: Have you had any difficulties with
the transition to animation
GROENING: When James L. Brooks [an exce
шіге producer of The Tracey Ullman Show]
gave me the opportui
tion, I hooked up with some animators
from a small company, Klasky-Csupo, in
Hollywood. They had never donc a TV sc-
ries before, and we operated on the same
wave length almost immediately. 1 didn't
realize how lucky that was, because since
then, Гус come into contact with other ani-
mators, and a lot of them are so locked into
es it's really hard to dislodge

them. We had some very bad experiences
early on with some animators involved
with the show The very first episode we
worked on, the Simpsons were watching a
show called The Happy Little Elves Meet the
Curious Bear Cub, and one of the anima-
tors, in a flight of fancy, thought it would
be funny if in the background of one
scene, the curious bear on the little TV
screen would rip the head off an elf and
drink the blood out of its neck. And al-
though we were trying for an oddball, off-
beat cartoon show, I was surprised to see
this. It never aired, and as far as I'm con-
cerned, the negative has been burned. So
animators are an unruly bunch and they re.
out of their minds. Anybody who would be
willing to work on so many of the same
drawings day after day. .. .

19.

PLAYBOY: We'll never see something as re-
pulsively mercantile as, say, a Bart Simpson
n figure, will we?

ING: Actually, theres one in the
works. It says a number of things, though
there are two things the toy company
would not let the doll do. One is say. “I'm
Bart pson. Who the hell are you?”
which I can't understand—its one of his
big catch phrases—and they wouldn't let
him belch. They didn't think either was
appropriate coming out of the mouth of a
doll. But he does "Whoa, Momma!"
“¡Ay caramba!” and “Au contraire, mon
frère”; it will be the only trilingual talking
doll on the market

20.

PLAYBOY: Can we attach any
the prevalence of overbites
characte
GROEN.
of life.

ignificance to
n all of your

Well, it's part of my tragic view

Carora

"Its OK with me, Peterson, if you've had a religious
epiphany; just stay away from the sales staff"

GAS-STATION CAPER

(continued from page 82)
South. My family had no money at all.
Everybody assumes that because I went to
Harvard, | come from an Ivy League fam-
ily, but that’s not the way it was. My dad
died when I was twelve. 1 worked an out-
side job all the way through high school,
got financial aid for college,
scrimped and saved. The first day 1 ar-
‚cd in Boston was my first day in any big

some

“Frankly, the way I learned to survive at
Harvard was by being a chameleon. I tried
to melt into the wallpaper and copy wh:
other people did. 1 was a chameleon with
women, too. I'd be whoever they wanted
me to be. | loved almost all of them deep in
my groin and 1 just wanted to please them.
Were they politically liberal? Hey, 1 could
be liberal. Were they right-wing conserva-
es? No problem for me. Did they like to
go to art museums? Me, too, Concerts?
Sure. Baseball games? Why not?

“Some of my attitude was based on
finances. If I did what they wanted to do, it
was easier to go Dutch, and I was in no
shape to pay for a lotof entertainment. But
I also realized that women like men who
agree with them. Today, those may be the
only men they like. So I became a really
agreeable guy, and they liked me and
sometimes loved me.

“I used to hang around a coffeehouse
near campus. My father never saw a coffee-
house in his life, and here was his son,
Glenn Junior, ordering cappuccino and
looking at contemporary art on the walls.
But | had a good reason for doing that:
Waiters don't usually hassle you in a coffee-
house. You can order one cup of coffee and
then sit there for hours.

“I get ambushed in the coffechouse one
winters morning in my sophomore year.
This beautiful woman walks in, blonde
hair in braids, Bo Derek features, parka
and ski boots and glowing skin. 1 am im-
mediately in love. I have to talk to her. I
will die if I do not talk to her. So
chameleon Glenn starts up a conversation.
Lask her where she got her ski boots, she
tells me, we talk.

“She seems 10 like me. Гт trying to
scope her out, get her profile, just fit in,
you know? She loves Switzerland; 1 love
Switzerland. She paints in oils; I paint in

my own back yard, I've skied there since I
was six years old; I knew it before it got

able, Robin Leach nothing on
m very noisy about my history at Vail
and my tryouts for the Olympic ski team
and the way I'd like to wait tables and par-
tyand sauna and ski for the rest of my life.
‘Really Really, 1 nod. I try to

look honest and sincere, but it’s hard to do
that with my own bullshit piled up to my

kneecaps. ‘So lets go. Julie grabs mv
hands. ‘Let's get ош of here this afternoon,

let's go boogie in the snow. It is an amazing
offer that 1 cannot refuse.

“W-w-well, E stutter.

“Come on, she says. "My father has a
We can stay there. How

condo at Vail.
about it

“Туе got the first credit card of my life in
my wallet, I've just been challenged by a
beautiful woman, I've told her how great I
am, I'm in love, what do you think I'm go-
ing to do? I go with her, of course.

Her fathers condo is great. When we
get there, I suggest we take a whirlpool
and get some rest. She's too smart for that.
She knows that 1 don't really mean rest.
She says no, she wants to hit the slopes. So
True Grit here goes out and rents some
skis, asks the clerk at the shop some really
basic questions and meets Julie at the lift
Off we go, me almost breaking my butt just
getting into the lift chair, up to the top of
the toughest hill
ulie's talking all the way, but E hardly
hear her, because I'm convinced I'm going
to die. I assume ГЇ probably fall off the
lift; if that doesn’t get me, the downhill
ie will. Гус seen movies about skiing, but

Tam your basic country boy who has never
been on skis in his life. Lam clear
My hormones are leading me to my death.

^I remember standing there on the crest.
of that mountain, feeling like my chest was
about to cave in, terrified, still playing ma-
cho man but ready to quit, ready to sit
down in the snow and cry and ask for a
snowmobile ride back to town.

"You know what did it? You know what
got me down that hill? My nose. The
smells. 1 dont mean the trees and the pine
needles and all that shit. I mean the smell
of Julie's suntan lotion, her lip balm and
hand cream, her shampoo, her wonderful
. She took ой, dropped out of sight,
and my nose had to follow her. She was like
a magnet.

“Did you see the movie Who Framed
Roger Rabbit? Remember the first ten min-
utes of it, the baby in the kitchen, crawling
all over the place and almost getting killed
but not getting killed? That was a movie of
my trip down the mountain that day. [
bounced, | fell, 1 rolled from pillar to post.
E slammed into trees, I ate tree bark and
s, I shim-

ied on my butt and crawled
Julie said I looked like
bear when I got to the bottom. But | made
it.

“Only a man in love could ha
that run. And you know something? I can
smell that woman to this day. Г can put my-
self back on the top of that mountain in my
mind any time | want. Us guys, we're fools
for love. Absolute fools."

Those are just three of the scores of
5 I've heard from the men Гус inter-
viewed for this article. Unfortunately, over
the past quarter century, men have become
more reticent about telling adventures
like these. This reticence is born of feas

the fear of being labeled sexist by a culture
that has become squeamish about male
behavior. Men have learned to bury their
sexual histories deep, and it is a new expe-
rience for them to openly discuss their
shenanigans. But one thing held true in
my research: I never met a man who didnt
have at least one moment in his life when
risks were accepted and love was then fa-
natically pursued.

‘There is the computer programer who
drove motorcycle 500 miles through
iow and freezing temperatures to reach a
beautiful American Indian woman who
had hinted in a phone call that she might
permit him a dalliance. In his precoital
haste, he blew a tire at 85 miles per hour,
broke a clutch cable and shifted thereafter
with a vise grip. He almost crashed when
he fell asleep on the highway, pulled into a
truck stop and was shaking so badly from.
cold and fatigue that he spilled four cups
of coffee before he could get a cup to hi
mouth. He arrived at his destination only
to sec his intended lover waving to him
from a raft in the middle of a very cold
lake, swam out to her and said, essentially,
“Here I am!” He met resistance because
she didn't want to make love where some-
one might be able to see them, got pushed
off the raft and back into the icy water, lost
momentary capability for an erection
when a fish bit his toe and entertained the
frightening vision that he might be swim-
ng in a lake stocked with piranhas. He
retired in defeat from the hoped-for se-
duction with a pledge to himself that from
that moment on, he would, as he put it,
"ride in greater comfort toward more as-
sured ends."

And then there is the journalist, now
middle-aged, who remembers a wild night
on Okinawa in the early Sixties, At the
lime, this man was an active-duty Marine,
a member of a secret task force that had
been hastily assembled on Okinawa and
was preparing for a possible invasion of
Laos, an invasion that America's new Presi-
dent, John Kennedy, was seriously consid-
ering, Convinced that deadly combat lay
ahead, this Marine wanted to see his own
true love for a final reunion before he went
off possibly to die for his country.

At the time, his own true love happened
to be a bar girl named Michiko, a slim and
graceful young woman who worked as a
hostess at a bar in Naha, the island!
city. But our Marine ran into an u
seen problem on the night he went to see
irl for the last time. Michiko sud-
ед out of Naha and

the owner of the bar and one of Oi
small-time mobsters. She was being held in
captivity in a rural section of Okina
which no Ame y military
personnel, were welcome.

Okinawa. the last island of the Ryuky
Island chain south of Japan, site of one of
the great battles of World War Two, wa

the early Sixties a place of smoldering re-
sentment between the Okinawans and the
overwhelming American military pres-
ence there, The last American military
man who had tried to go into the village
where our Marine planned to goin pursuit
of Michiko had been caught, beaten, his
ankles ued to the rear bumper of a taxi,
his battered head the consistency of toma-
to pulp after being dragged for miles over
rough roads.

пе of this stopped our Marine in rut.
He talked Michikos sister into telling him
her exact location and prepared for a long-
range patrol. He taped his dog tags to-
gether so they wouldn't rattle, put on
camouflage clothing and camouflage paint
and a black knit hat and drove his jeep as
close as he dared to the village in question.
With his K-Bar between his teeth—he
swears its true—he crawled several hun-
dred meters across rice-paddy dikes, past
open sewage ditches, through mud and
slime, past chickens and dogs, so that he
could infiltrate, reconnoiter, lie in wait
in the bushes until the place scemed
asleep. then silently invade Michiko's room
through the window of the shack in which
she was being held prisoner.

Once in her bedroom, he luxuriated for
a couple of hours in love and still-remem-
bered lust. He tried t0 get her to escape
with him, met refusal, said several senti-
mental goodbyes, finally crawled out the
samc way hc had crawled in and made it
back to the ісер and safety just before
dawn. “It was crazy, but I did it,” he says
today. “I just kept telling myself that 1 was
doing what the Marines had trained me to
do. As I saw it, 1 was on a mission from
God. Loved it.”

These adventures may sound apoc-
ryphal. They are not. They are representa
tive and true stories, testimonies to the
male spirit, to male energy and ingenuity.
Risk is often good, frantically pursued love
frequently warm and wonderful, release
п the midst of danger can be exquisite.
Men know this in their genes. Almost all
of them have participated in some risky
sexual business. It comes with the male
territory.

Love and risk are not incompatible for
men. Not by a long shot. They represent a
potent and memorable mix, a combination
of self-expression and reaffirmation, a way
of living and loving that will never die and
cannot be wished or legislated away.

What do men risk for love? Sometimes.
everything. And they never forget it
Shortly before his death, Tolstoy glanced
at his bare feet and suddenly remembered
Aksing Bazykina, a young pea
who had been the mother of his oldest son
some 50 ycars previously.

‘Tolstoy, the old rogue, was smack in the
middle of an honorable male condition
that is usually composed of revery and
lust, seduction and remembrance.

And most of us know exactly how ће felt

[y]

139

PLAYBOY

мо

ТНЕ BUNDYS (continued from page 128)

“Marcy is on the witness stand and the motels law-

yer holds up a pair of handcuffs. ‘Look familiar? "

style she has always worn—her "fanc
figure 3-2-7 has been discontinued. lb
calm his troubled wife, Al goes to a spe-
тіс shop in search of the elusive
ош-
raged Rakolta. A mannequin in tasseled
leather pasties. A geezer in a garter belt. A
young stud modeling а tiara. Several
scantily clad creamies—one of whom re-
moves her bra. Viewers saw a naked ba
and a sidelong wedge of tit. Rakolta was
not amused.

Alter she saw The Bra Show, Rakolta du-
tifully took notes on subsequent appalling
episodes. Then she wrote a letter and
led it to 45 of the show's advertisers,
whom she accused of "helping to feed our
ids a steady diet of gratuitous sex and vio-
lence.” She got headlines, a talk-show tour,
15 minutes of fame. And she cost the show
one sponsor, Tambrands, the makers of
‘Tampax tampons,

Fo: 'erybody did the man-

ly thing,” says Moye, “which was immedi
ately dive behind desks and point fingers
at us. You couldn't get your legs under a
desk for all the executives under there. You
have never seen such wussing. And we're
going, ‘One leuer? One leiter?” I mean, this
is an example of what a bored housewife
can do with her husband's computer."
к one letter was taken to heart at Fox
nd Columbia, says Garth Ancier, because
it was "intelligently written.” It was “type
written.” It was "well thought out.” And it
could cost them big bucks. A 30-second
commercial on Married now sells for about
$200,000. Thats nearly five times what it
cost when the series debuted, and more
than twice the price for commercial time
оп Fox's less popular shows. “Advertisers
pay attention to people who w
gently and thoughtfully.”

This peek through the corporate key-
hole comes from Ancier, who now works at
Disney, because no one at Columbia or Fox
would go on record—abow Rakolta or
Leavitt and Moye or anything else. Not onc.
executive would talk, not even the Colum-
bia somebody who gave Leavitt. the
inflatable monster he keeps in his office, a
ay gift from years ago. Not even the
Fox censor, “You can't talk 10 him," I was
told. A censored censor.

L
weather Rakolta’s onslaught
them off was the gag order served th
Columbia, the folks who sign thei
checks.

“We u first,” says
Moy don't want us
to talk 10 the press. I mean, look at us. 1
guess we look like a couple of bar

avitt and Moye knew they could
What pissed.
n by

the ‘Outlaws of Comedy, у know? God
knows what'll h: you put a camera
in front of us. They bly thought we'd
moon the world. But we figured that if we
werent going to be allowed to defend
ourselves, somebody was gonna do it. We
didnt do anything wrong, and for us to si
here mute gives the illusion that we did
something wrong, that were sorry for
something, which is not true. So if уоште
not going to let me defend myself, some-
body damn well better do и. And when no-
body did, I just said, ‘Fuck the muzzle."
Move ing па Leavitt's office.
105 Wednesday, two days before they tape
The Leaky Roof Show, but Moye isnt
thinking of Al Bundys home improve-
ments. He's thinking about the Fox censor
nd he's thinking about the tape of The
Lost Show he's about to load into Leavitt's
VCR. He's agitated. These things так

By the time she went back to mothering
id country-clubbing, Rakolta had p
bly boosted the ratings of the show she
d to sink, Head
all, and all that talk about gratuitous sex
probably added a few Lan to the fold. Ital-
so brought the censor down on The Guys
Fox had had a standards-and-practices
man in place since the network started, but
he'd Jet the producers roam on a pretty
loose leash, That was the deal. They lost a
joke here and there, hassled over an осса-
sional line. Nothing major. Then after
Rakolta's epistle came a script called “ГИ
See You in Court." The Lost Show

Moye says they got 15 censor notes on
the script, meaning 15 words or lines the
censor considered "100 graphic" or “over
the edge” or “offensive 10 certain groups.”
These were the things they'd been hearing
from the censor all along—at the rate of
two or three а script—but 15 notes was а

new game.

were gonna play ball,” says Moye
They made some changes and sent the
script back. The censor was on the phone.
They made some more changes, caught
some more flak. “It got to the point where
we had given them all but four notes
which to us was bending double. We were
really doing a contortionist job.” Still, the
censor wasn't happy.

By the end of the week, they'd made 13
changes and "the integrity of the show was
shot to hell,” says Moye. “They we
us to change things that two months e:
er would have been just fine, except all of a
sudden, we're supposed to clean it up be-
cause one woman wrote a letter. The show
had just started to catch on and the atti
tude was, Oh, God! What if somebody sees

'oba-

us? Suddenly, we're popular and every-
body wants to play it close to the vest. My
fecling was, if you wanted a clean show,
you should have bought My Tivo Dads in
the first place. I mean, is this not my show
anymore? Do I all of a sudden пог und
stand my show?"

Moye cues up the video tape in Leavitt's
office and sits on the edge of a chair, drink-
ing decaf, chain smoking. He watches the
опе episode of his show that got away from
him: 13 censor changes, integrity shot and
still it never aired. Ancier says it's the only
sitcom episode he's heard of in his 11 years
in television tha r because of

The Lost Show is about sex. Although
Rakolta would no doubt disagree, it's a
show that reaflirms, in a convoluted,
Bundyesque way, Al and Peg family
It begins with Peg and neighbor Marcy's
discussing ways to spice the Bundy sex life.
How about a change of venue? Cut to the
Hop On Inn motel. See Aland Peg watch
porn. Watch Al and Peg lean back in bed.
Know they've done the wild—and, as al-
ys with the Bundys, brief—thing, Later,
we learn that Al and Peg were video-taped
at the motel, as were Steve and Marcy be-
fore them. Cut to a courtroom, where
Steve plays prosecutor in the couples’ law-
suit against Ihe Hop On In

Unfortunately for the Bundys, Steve
screens the video tapes in court. Steve and
Marcy win $10,000 for their multihour
performance; Al and Pegs one-minute
boogie is judged inconclusive. О: the
jury foreman says, "No sex, no money.”

“I's a cartoon, у” know?" says Moye, fast-
forwarding through a commercial br
“A cartoon.”

Moye is mostly silent as he watches, but
there are seript changes that still grate.
One is when Marcy is on the witness stand
and the motels lawyer holds up a pair of

handcuffs. “Look familiar?” the attorney
asks. In the original script, those hand-
cuffs were radishes, "A bunch of radish-

es—they went wild, Moye chimes in
during the scene. “This was an example of
where you open the window and do а
planet check. 1 mean, radishes? 105 not
even sexual. Its just a joke!"

In the convoluted paranoia of the day,
the censor ruled for bon toys over a
nonsense visual joke. Haudculls he under-
stood. Radishes were the great unknown.

Moye flashes to another episode—
planet-check time again—when the censor
balked at the word crewcuts. In that show,
a dykish PE. coach was to say to a group of
cheerleaders, including Kelly Bundy, “Ай-
er the game, we'll go over to my house and
give each other erewcuts. You seniors know
what I mean.

“We got a phone call,” Moye remember
"Wild. "You gott out crewcuts,"
“Why? "Well, Guys, everybody knows wh

MARILYN

By Jack Cardiff

On behalf of Marilyn fans, Jannes Art Publishing is proud to release
Jack Cardiff's Marilyn, a limited-issue photographic reproduction. In 1956, Marilyn granted
an exclusive photo session with Mr. Cardiff while filming The Prince and the Showgirl.

This outstanding image has been delicately enhanced by hand The surface of the paper is silk textured, with a mother-of-
coloring. It is reproduced on 100-percent-rag, pH-neutral pearl finish that gives the artwork an iridescent quality.
paper, conforming to the highest archival standards. The print is available in two editions. Paper size: 30" x22”.

Available in a limited edition of 2000 unsigned prints, $100.00,
and in a limited edition of 1000 prints, signed by Jack Cardiff, $175.00.
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АН prints will be eccompanied by Print Authantication Certificates to ensure the collectors’ peace ol mind regarding this most important and beautitul eddition to their collections. Please allow
four to six weeks lor delivery. Marilyn © 1987, Jannes Art Publishing, Chicago, U.S.A. ® Photography by Jack Сагди! @ Printing by Black Box Collotype, Continuous-Tone Printers, Chicago, Ú SA.

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JANNES

ART PUBLISHING
3318 North Lincoln Avenue, Chicago, Illinois 60657

PLAYBOY

м2

that means. "What does it mea t means
e going to shave each other's pubic
Ме said, What? You got that out of.
crewcuts? "Well, everybody knows what
that means... 2

“I looked in every book," Moye says,
holding his temper in. “I looked in dic-
tionaries from other countries. I wanted
to see if anywhere in the world crewcuts
was slang for pussy shaving. Nowhere.
Nowhere! But they really truly believed
this, so we took the line ou

Moye restarts The Lost Show tape and
leaves the room. He knows how the
episode ends. He doesn't want to see it
again. He wants to calm down

On the monitor, the motels lawyer
doubts Peg's claim that in their one filmed
minute, she and Al had 5

Peg: "All right, it may not be sex to you,
but it is to me. Just because you all have
husbands who can last long enough to
an egg doesn't mean what Al does doesn't
count. .. . Isa crumb not a banquet for a
starving person? . . . Isa fig leaf not cloth-
ing for the naked?"

Now Peg's off the witness stand, she's be-
ing dragged back to her seat, and she’s
begging with every step. "You cant do this
10 Al! He'll lose what little confidence he
has! You were great, baby! Please, oh,

please, dont listen! Dont give up!"
Al and Peg are

The courtroom clea
alone. He leads her behind the judge
bench and does what we all hope we
be doing after 16 years of marriage. Th
hands of the clock spin. Then we hear voic-
es from behind the bench.

Al: “Now, was that sex, or was that sex?”

Peg: “That was sex, AL”

Peg lights a cigarette and exhales a cloud
of smoke.

Its no news flash to viewers that the
Bundys play rough. But Aland Peg, for all
th ill never cheat on each oth-
er. The Guys promise. Al may dream
about it. He may drool over cach passing
piece of nubile scenery. But when he gets
ned on by a blonde, he buys his red-
ded wife a bleached wig and hauls her
upstairs. Peg may go to Chippendales and
stash dollar bills in jockstraps, but when
she gets the hots for the stripping cowboy,
she goes home and shoves a Stetson on АГ
head.

The simple, unsentimental fact is that Al
and Peg Bundy love each other. They nag
and rag and spit insults and fume; that's
their game. It's fun. And fricti
other name still throws spa
episode has ended with Al and Peg gliding
ari arm up those well-worn Bundy
stair

Later on Wednesday, Moye and Leavitt
and the writers watch a run-through of
The Leaky Roof Show. Between scenes, the
rehearsal-hall phone rings. A production
assistant disappears into the phone booth,
comes out, tells O'Neill his wife has called.
O'Neill excuses himself and steps into the
booth. The Guys and their gang w

actors glance through thei
Sagal—who was about to begin a scene
with O'Neill stands with her hands

thrust into her jeans pockets, eyebrows up,
eyes wide, staring at the phone booth.
“This is not a good time for that,” she says
quietly to the director. He shrugs. An awk-
ward minute ticks by, then somebody jokes

detecte

“Oh, Margo, the pain! Will I ever get over
losing you? Probably not. But thats not why I called. Is that
hot-looking roommate of yours anywhere around?"

that this is a commercial break

“Buy а douche!" chirps Leavin, in the
perky voice of a TV pitchman. “Get those
cunts smelling clean and fresh!”

Strangers shout at O'Neill. He might be
standing in line for a movie, or buying a
hamburger, or grocery shopping. “Yo, А!
they yell. “Al Bun-der!" Strangers go up to
O'Neill and tell him he's shorter or taller
than they expected, younger or older, or
just what they imagined. They talk to him
asif he were Aland they talk to him in the
voice he uses when he's playing Al; they do
Al for Ed.

“Weird,” says O'Neill. But this is part of
it, This is what happens when your mug is

ns paste bumper stickers on
their cars (FLUSH IF YOU LOVE THE BUNDYS)
and your show it. It goes along with
the new home on the beach and the new
black Porsche and the guest shot hosting
Saturday Night Live. This is life as a bon
fide small-screen sta

Like the other Married actors, O'Neill
approaches his newly minted celebrity
with modesty, with surprise. They all have
shiny new toys now. Brentwood-raised
Sagal, daughter of the late movie director
Boris Sagal, jokingly traces her TV career
as a Hollywood climb up the automotive
ladder: First season, she drove a 1976 El-
dorado convertible; second and third se;
sons, a Mercedes; fourth season, a Jag.
“Cars are cool,” she says with a crooked
smile. And buying the cliff-hung hacienda
she used to rent was nice, too. “But it’s just
stuff," she says. "Y" know? It doesn't fix
your

O'Ncill borrows a word from Moye.
They all still feel like “outlaws,” he says,
like they felt the first season, when they
w knowns. Nobody dreamed of the
T-shirt-and-bumper-sticker days to come.
O'Neill never imagined he'd go to hi
high school reunion in Youngstown, Ohi
and spend the night signing autographs.
That happened last year. So did his and
Sagal's appearance on the Emmy Awards
show— passing out st
ing them. O'Neill liked that, i
ort of w.
Katey and I walked on stage and there
was this reaction of, 'Oh, geez, here's these
two. They're not going to get anything

they're not even nominated for
thing—but they're here, and th
funny: .

He pauses for a minute, remembering.
It's Thursday, dress-rchearsal day in the
studio, and O'Neills standing near the
empty bleachers, killing time between
scenes.

“The show is very popular" he says
ally, “but we get no kind of nominations,
no kind of a 'ognition in the
television community. I like that. I think in
a strange Us a compliment. Maybe it's
just the Dev me, but Ethink ind of
cool.

Some weeks, dre:

rehearsal lasts only a

few hours, but on this Thursday. for this
technically tough Leaky Roof Show. it
takes all day. The action stops every couple
s can adjust the I
or the lights or the cameras. O'Neill spends

of minutes so techi

the down time shooting the breeze with
the crew. Sagal, an avid reader, sticks her
nose in а book
Christina Applegate

MINIME DEL CRE
David Faustino hud-

dles with his tutor.
The director, The
Guys and the writ-
ers zip back and
forth between the
control booth. and
the set.

Word from real
life leaks into the
Bundy world in the
middle of the after-
noon. The studios
plainclothes сор re-
ports a shooting out
on Sunset Boule-
vard, just up the
street from the lot.
Moye is on the set at
this point, hanging
out with the crew.

“Man, everybody
lax a litle
bit,” he says. d
hard to tell if he's
kidding. Was that a
deadpan delivery?
Isa joke en route?

ceds to re

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“I try to spread it
around.”

The techies and
Moye's secretary
burst imto laughter

“You laugh,” says
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opens the trunk of his white BMW and

strips off his T-shirt. He re

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dressed like Al dangles outside the living-
room window in the last moments of the
show. There's a new line in the script, а late
addition by the writers
living room on hands and knees after his

Al slinks into the

“AL You're tracking mud on the carpet,”

says Peg.

“Well, из not all
mud.” Al whimpers.
“Some of its colon."

The colon line
grosses out the stu-
dio audience. H

grosses out the ac-
tors and even the
roughneck crew

“So we know we've
done our job.” says
Leavitt

ls а line you
wouldnt hear on
any other network
show, certainly not
on another family
sitcom. And while it
may not be every-
ones idea of humor,
some of us love it
for its bravado. It
assures us thal
Married with
Children will never
preach or teach or
slime us with loving
goo. h tells us this is
just a кати

The Friday-night
tapings are rowdy as
always, every seat
taken. The audience

is a few decibels
than usual,
due to a group of
Marines in attend
Yo, Al Bun
dee!” they yell
Peg! Divorce him
and marry me

louder

ance.

Moye will say later
that he thought of
the Fox censor when
those Ma-
rines in the bleach-
imagined
pointing to the cen-
sor and saying to the
grunts, "See (hat
guy right there?
That guy thinks you
shave each others
pubic hair when you
get creweuts! He

he saw

ers. He

thinks youre a bunch of sissies.”

propped up on a counter laden with jars
and tubes of industrial-strength cosmetics.
The make-up lady applies the foundation
to Sagal's cheeks with a small sponge, then
brushes deep purple on her eyelids and
glues on fake lashes. She hands the actress
a tube of lipstick. "Raspberry Ice,” Sagal
says, reading the label. “Is that perfect?”

in the parking lot, Leaviu

taping, ch, Ron? Whoa! Lookin’ good!"
Leavitt runs one hand through his greasy
hair and smiles.

At 5:30 ем, and again two and а half
hours later, Al Bundy takes to his roof
while his family, warm and dry inside,
ridicules him. Al gets the shit kicked out of
him, like the director said. His effigy
crashes to the ground twice; а stunt man

also say later, while he and
1 aky Roof Show—Moye
laughing at the scripted jokes, Leavitt
scribbling notes—"We love a good punch

Moye will
vitt edit The L.

line, y know? Were just a couple of slap-
happy guys.”

143

PLAYBOY

CRIMES AND MISDEMEANORS (continued from page 55)

*Barry was threatened with 20 years and $1,250,000
in. fines. The whole thing stinks of a vendetta."

у of fighting it. Some war
on drugs. To get 4 the prosecutor
de a deal with Charles Lewis, the drug
id been nabbed by the FBI in
That bust was set up to
on Lewis in order to
ainst Barry.

m Salire to call justify any m

Times columnist. V
Stephens a "publicity-grubbing U

Federal offense to be a poor role
afire added that Attorney
"hormburgh had allowe
he
first time, has used the expecta
purse to lure a target
legal act in front of televi

Lewis the pu
got 15 months for d ing, was consid-
cred less important than Barry the cus-
tomer. who was threatened with 20 years

ase is 10 wave the noking rap. The whole thing stinks of a
lof the war on drugs, in which vendetta.
s are perceived so desperate as to Barry may have a problem

h drug ad-

"We may be last in on-lime service, bul we're first
in fewest customer complaints."

needs help, but couldnit
е come to his assistance in
No, bec

Tis approach to the drug prob-
defines drug use as a criminal rather
а health problem. “Narcotics abuse is
not a vietimless crime,” thundered pros
смог Stephens, as if to explain the си

ly
aign to capture the may-

or in the act.

Clearly, uncontrollable addiction of any
the addict, but why the n;
tional. preoccupation with only certain
drugs? Barry admits addiction to alcohol
nd the presc

drugs? The Government, by its mind-
numbing crusade st certain forms of
sell-abuse. has apparently exonerated all
other:

Ihe Barry case illustrates more than

nything else that the antidrug crusade
has simply gotten out of h If exces
police power is to be used to clean up Go
ernment, which scares me, then why clean
only one dirty nook?

Which is the point made by NAACP
executive director Benjamin L. Hooks.
z the Feds with "selective enforce-
ment of the law,” he noted wryly that “the
search had fi а F.
these years trying to
of cocaine, and by God, we did it, dic
- We haven't found all the people
stolen all the money from the зау-
driving
5 8, 50 obviously,
of us in ck community
have some peculiar fechngs as we
go further”

I dont know if black Democratic politi-
cians are hounded unfairly by white Re-
publican prosecutor implies,
though that is not the wildest of supposi-
tions. But one can’t ignore Hooks ques-
tioning of € erence to the
savings-and-loan scandal, with losses of
19.2 billion dollars last ye

Mayor Barry in such a detailed and
leisurely manner. Perhaps the FBI sho
recruit a seductress to entrap bank offic
as effectively as it did the hapless Barry

clear
that the FBI should be found guilty. So
maybe Barry is a pompous hypocrite—
arent they all? Politicia
he hurting other than
drugs? Until the F
ndbagged the man, Barry w
yor of one of the toughest c
ybe he blew it and therefore de-
serves no pity. But what the FBI did smacks
of secret-poli ship of the kind
£ е. And
that is a far more troubling problem than
Mayor B 's libi

run

POWER PLAY (continued from page 110)

“The latter installation will take you up to speeds

of 90 miles per hour if you dare to open the throttle.’

The boats won big and they won often,
helping spread Smith's fame and secure
his place in history-

Those who want to flaunt a piece of that
history are in luck. Although fiberglass re-
placed wood as the boatbuilder's material
of choice in the Fifties, causing even the
staunchest innovators, such as Chris-Cralt,
10 convert, a handful of entrepr
held fast, unwilling to forsake the war
character and beauty of va hed planks.
Thus, the timeless designs of Ch
are still available and still h:
one at a time, but with som
technological innovations.

Grand Craft Corporation of Holland,
Michigan, builder of
rently has a contract with C
build a limited edition of 24 reproductions
of the 1930 Model 103, a stunning 24-foot
mahogany runabout. It boasts a beautiful
sh finish just like the original one, but
the wood ructure is encapsulated in
it against the harsh
ine environment. Aside from addition-
а! reinforcements to accept the 351-cubic-
inch OMC/Ford engine, из virtually

interesting

10 the 1930 model, right down to
red-leather seats and Chris-Craft
name etched into the glass of the wind-
wings.

ARONOW ALPHA 45

Another well-known boatbuilder who
subjected his designs to the rigors of imer-
national competition was the іше Don
Aronow. During the Sixties, Aronow
owned offshore racing. Formula, Donzi,
Magnum, Cigarette—all were founded
and raced by him, often in collaboration
with noted designer Jim Wynne, who also
vented the inboard/outboard, or stern
drive, propulsion system thats standard on
many powerboats.

The Aronow Alpha 45 is one of his best
designs, an eight-foot-wide needle with a
le-engine stern-drive power plant and
an aggregate power output ranging from
1100 to more than 2100 horsepower, The
latter installation will take you up to
speeds of 90 miles per hour if you dare to
open the throttle.

The Imes of the Aronow Alpha
decidedly knifelike, with a deep V-

bottom to cut waves and cushion impact at
n

ight, lined up so that
ound the throttle
‘ol all three engines as one.
You fly this bird by the nose. When it be-
gins to rise or when the props leave the wa
ter at high speed, а quick pull on the
throtiles chops power, and as the stern set-
es back in and the bow levels off, a quick
shot of power keeps vou at speed.

Below decks, Aronow Powerboats builds
cabins to specification. You can have it
your way, from a stripped-out speed ma-
chine to a luxury cruiser h burled-
hardwood p; ing and gold-plated
hardware.

BOSTON WHALER OUTRAGE 25 CUDDY

Aronow Alpha 452
Sure, but who'd want to? Fishing is far
more pleasant when form follows intended
functi ing you to some po-
tentially inhospitable places—30, 40 or 50
miles offshore, out where the big ones are.
‘To get there, you'll want а boat that's totally

you lish from a

such as

reliable. You'll want a Boston Whaler.
When

Boston Whaler founder Dick
igned the first Whaler 13, and
pronounced it unsinkable, he knew he'd
have to prove his claim. So he arranged
a demonstration, photographed by Life
magazine in 1961, that showed him sitting

RAYNAL `

& RELAX

Poss ht poder inc Мали Fr 409 al vo!

with a Tall One!

It may seem very
adventurous to
enjoy the premium
Napoleon

in
y other than
nifter ... but
RAYNAL devotees
in 129 countries
can't be wrong
mixing it in almost
as many ways!

RAYNAL,
Aged & houled
in France.

145

PLAYBOY

146

їп а Whaler that was being sawed in half.
Both halves floated perfectly, and the
Boston Whaler name suddenly became
synony with gn
The Whalers foam-filled hull was rigid
nd strong. It sported a cathedral-shaped
bottom, which gave it walk-right-ou
the-cdge stability. Varnished-mahogany
plank seats and side steering console
added a touch of warmth, and low stain-
less-steel grab rails provided secure hand-

le boat de:

there are 34 Whaler models,
ranging from nine to 31 feet in length
The Outrage 25 Cuddy is a fi
of the practical fishing machine. y
all cockpit, perfect for fighting fish on all
sides. The helm console concentrates all
operational, navi nd fish-finding
equipment in one central structure. Seat-
g for two behind the protective console
be either a padded leaning post with
builtin rocket-launcher rod storage and
space below for a 94-gallon cooler or dual-
swivel pedestal seats that let you face alt
when slow-trolling. If you want more room
in the cockpit, order the Whaler Drive, a
special transom extender that will accept
two high-horsepower outboards. When
you're planning to run offshore, two mo-
tors can ensure that you'll have one to
turn on, just

Лю escape the sun—or for, perhaps, а
pleasurable pursuit —you can always
in the Whaler's forward cuddy
s complete with a portable head and а
forward V-berth that will sleep two adults.

1 сазе.

Семе on, SuSan—

That long. Dating
hasn't Bagel

Yeu werent married

There's also cabin lighting, bunk cushions,
shelf storage and even a forward hatch and
two aft-facing windows for ventilation and
light. For a dedicated fishing machine,
also a pretty good platlorm for catching
some rays or just kicking back and cooling
off with a beer.

төзді SWEET 16

Another real comeback story, this time
in the performance field. is the return of
the Sweet 16, Donzi Marine's low-profile 16
Ski-Sport. For most of the Sixties and Sev-
enties, the Sweet 16 was the toast of small
bays and lakes all over the country. But the
power-hungry Fighties did the Sweet 16 in.
Larger performance boats became the
boats to own, so the pocket-rocket 16 was
retired іп 1981.

Now it's back, virtually unchanged,

The same stainless-steel gra wraps
the cockpit. There are the same clean look
and lines, no windscreen breaking the
smooth flow of deck from bow to stern.
The controls are elegantly simple, from
the Momo steering wheel to the single-
shifter and throttle. Slip a slalom ski
and a jacket out from under the forward
deck, hook a rope on the towing eye and
head for the smooth wate:

b га

leve

WELLCRAFT EXCALIBUR iM

IF уоште looking for high-performance
excitement in a slightly larger, contempo-
rary=styled package, the new Excalibur
патот 20 from Wellcralt del
the БИ. The company that gave us Scarab

Then what

are Condom.

Vova performance-boat lines as pre
miere muscle boats for the past two
decades went one better with this design
1 of boxy windows, the Phantom 20
has side-by-side deck cowlings, reminiscent
of some state-of-the-art offshore:
cockpits. This may be one of the ci
most aerodynamic styles on the water, with
lines that flow uninterrupted from the
bow to the integral sw
sculpted out of the

There's substance to all this style. A Mer
Cruiser 350 Mag is the top power option
шот 20, wi

п go
but who in his right mind would
buy this beauty to go slow?) and a top end

about, the Phan-
tom 20 has ample storage space under the
front deck and jump seats aft for friends.
But it also оте other nice touches—
courtesy lights to illuminate the cockpit
after dark, comfortable swivel pedestal
seats forward. a custom sport steering
wheel and full instrumentation—not just
the basics. Resembl, s i
tion are intentional. At 65 mph on the wa-
ter, the helm of the Phantom is like a
fighter pla And you'll appreci-

аси he power steering and
the finger ols that the Phantom 90
offers

GLASTRON CARLSON 33255.

Now | те ready to fly one of the
best-looking muscle boats ever to hit the
water—a sports boat with equal emphasis
on style, performance and creature com-
forts—take a demonstration ride in the
Carlson 33CSS.

Thundering along with two MerCrui:
454 Magnum motors pouring out a re-
spectable 70 mph, the 33CSS is a sight to
behold. On the outside, the emphasis is on
acrodyn; Stainless-steel safety rails,
mooring cleats and opening hatches are
recessed neatly into the foredeck, available
instant use but tucked away. out of the
air stream. The radar arch is kept pur-
posefully low to reduce drag and relate to
the sculpted transom. Из а thing of beauty
evitably draws comparisons to top.
5 cars.

The cockpit is a well-padded playpen.
Two convertible padded bolsters allow you
10 stand or sit. A bench with headrests that
conceals two ice chests spans the cockpits
aft end, and it's a short distance across the
sun-lounging (when the bo

of course) to the wide sw
lowdecks, there's standing headroom, a
galley and a head,

two plush padded fac-
ме V-berth all the way
forward for an overnight couple.
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BOYS OF WINTER (continued fum page 92)

“Piniella says to Steinbrenner, ‘Aw, George, if yowda

been on the bus, yowda signed her ass, too.

эээ

of Right Guard as air freshener, yet the
story progresses: "So Steinbrenner hears
about this chick later, and he jumps us
about it in the clubhouse, really pissed
off...
Inficlder Pepe Frias, who has the strange
habit of repeating nearly everything he
says three times, yells to Hosley in support,
“Hose, man, you can fart, you can fart, you
1" and the Piniella story ends: “So
istens to this bullshit until he can't
iore and says to Steinbrenner,
Г you'da been on the bus,
ass, 100.”

to make the team. SaBell played one зе
son of Class A ball before the Pirates
leased him to his current career asa flight
leave of absence

says. not just because irs a chance to re-
deem what he perceives as his fai
make it in baseball but because
portunity to be part of a team ag;
points out, correctly, that those of us on the
bus have a generational tie: We all played
little league and high school ball about the
same ите, but only those with exceptional
gifts went on to play in the major leagues,
leaving the rest of us behind.
being on the taxi squad," he tells
an honor to be on the same field
with these guys. At first, I was worried I
wouldn't be accepted because 1 never
made it out of A ball. But they've been
great to me; theres no snobbery at all,
even from the big-name guys. There's
nothing fake about it, no bullshit. They?
just happy 10 have a chance to play again
Not only has SaBell been accepted; in
many ways, he is a pivotal figure in our
sc he is not tall (5/7),

is a Might steward, many jokes revolve
around him. From the back of the bus, Mc-
Catty calls out, “Hey, stewardess, we need
more Diet Coke back here.” Then: “Heads
up, you guys, Piscopos going for Coke. Get
your knees out of the aisle or you'll break
his nose.”

Grinning, SaBell yells ba
own Coke, you big dumb shit.

MeCatty, who is also a color commenta-
tor for the Oakland As, rises: “It's Mr. Big
Dumb Shit to you

“Get your

k: away; Fort Myers Sun Sets
vs пара Cold Coast Suns at Municipal
Stadium.

ning three-run homer by Otis, and this
morning, coach Tony Torchia has brought
us carly to this bleak old field for optional

- I hit first, then go to put on the
catching gear, but Torchia surprises me by
telling me to pitch instead.

1 like pitching, but the other guys seem
to enjoy it even more, teeing off on my flat
fastballs, hitting these screaming shots,
some of which would surcly kill me were it
not for the protective screen in front of
me. The fourth or fifth hitter is Pepe Frias
("You can pitch, you can pitch, vou can
pitch!”), but his cuts are interrupted by
someone yelling from the home team’s
dugout, “What the fuck are you doing out
here?”

1 look to see а small man in a Gold Coast

marching toward me, and he says
What the fuck are you doing out

Clearly, he is yelling at me, and in the
confusion of the moment, I wonder if he is
one of my disgruntled fishing clients. But
then 1 realize he is Earl Weaver and as-
sume he has spotted me as a nonpro player.
He stops at the mound and, wagging his
finger at me, demands, "What are you guys
doing out here so fucking early? We take
B.P first.”

Adding to the mayhem is a Spanish-ac-
cented voice, yelling, “Give me а peech,
man! Just опе peech!” 1 look to see 54-
year-old former Yankee Pedro Ramos,
standing next to the batting cage and beg-
ging for спе of my fiat fastballs.

Weaver says, “You guys aren't fucking
supposed to be out here yet"

1 cant tell if Weaver is actually angry, but
just in case, I point to Frias and say, "It was
his idea—talk to him," figuring that Frias
will tell Weaver to bite it, bite it, bite и. As
Weaver walks toward Frias, Ramos is still
calling, “Just one pecch, man. Just one
peech!”
me, Weaver yells over his shoulder,
ist, just throw him the fucking ball.
Its the only thing that'll shut him up.”

Standing at the batting cage, 1 watch a
new pitcher trying out for Gold Coast, He
is throwing to Paul Blair, and Weave
calling to the pitcher, “Just toss it in
easy, Jim. This is just B.P, doesn't mean
shit. This ain't your tryout.” ВІ
half dozen screamers and Weaver yells,
“OK, Jim, now try a few curves. Just spin it
up there; dont worry about it breaking.
This doesn't mean diddley” Blair knocks
the next two off the wall in left center, and
turns to the man stan
1 confides, “Christ, this guy Jim
w a fucking curve ball, either”

.
ragged Pompano held
пре fluorescence of a
. Before nearly empty

At night, thi:
glows with the st
deserted bus static

stands (attendance 400), with palm trees
rauling in a gusting sea wind, we beat
Gold Coast 14-4, with Amos Otis hitting
his second and third consecutive three-
run homers. Otis, 42, is having the best
start of his professional career, hitting 455
with 17 R.B.Ls in only seven games, and
the baseball-card collectors are waiting for
him as he exits the locker room. But Otis’
attention immediately turns toward three
little-league-age boys who are at the park
late and alone, still carrying their school-
books. He says to them, “You guys
shouldn't be up so late. Your homework
done? Open those books and let me see
your homework. You better head straight
home and get this work done—then get to
bed!”

Otis’ paternalism is not uncommon on a

team, or in a league, where nearly every
player isa father. But as 1 sit next to him on
the darkened bus, he begins to talk about
his relationship with his youngest son,
Cory, 15. His concern for those ballpark
kids comes into sharper focus.
Ay last year in baseball, ‘eighty-four, 1
was with the Pirates, hitting about .160, no
home runs, and they released me midway
through the season. Cory was just ten, but
he remembers how The Pirates told
me I was released when 1 was at the air-
port, geuing ready to board for an away
series. Seventeen years in the majors and
they tell me like chat, with my bags packed.
So the last five years, the only baseball 1
played was Cory. Wed play catch in
the yard, and he'd tell me, year in, year
out, 1 could still play. I'd say, ‘Naw, Cory, I
can't play no more.

“When 1 got the opportunity to play
here, I wanted to do good. That last season
with the Pirates. ps always kind of been a
thorn in my side; I just hated going out
like that. Thing is, I had no idea how I'd
do on the field now. f didn’t want to embar-
rass myself, but mostly, I didn't want to em-
barrass my family. I think it was like that
with a lot of guys" He grins. "So far,
though, things are working out. Last
night, I called home and Cory answered.
Не didrit say, ‘Hello, how ya doin"? noth-
ing. All he says is, ‘I told you you could still
play, Dad, 1 told you.”

One falls easily into the routine of base-
ball life on the road. After mornings spent
jogging or giving Tony Torchia fly-casting
lessons, the bus carries us to the park,
where we take B.P, stretch, play long toss,
then take infield. Because we arrive so far
in advance of the game, there's plenty of
idle time for the running jokes that are
part of the fabric of this team and proba-
bly all teams, Tim Hosley, who is fearless
on the field, has a horror of insects, so it
is not unusual to see him being stalked
by someone palming a freshly caught
grasshopper. Marty Castillo enjoys lung-
ing for throws, slapping his glove to your
head and acting as if he has saved your
life, а stunt he pulls on me almost daily
"hat woulda knocked your damn

147

PLAYBOY

148

side doors off,” he always says. It has gotten
to the point where, if Castillo is near and
the shadow of a bird passes by. 1 instinc-
tively duck, fearing for my side doors. This
afternoon, I watch g up on
Putnam, who, just before being attacked.
jogged off smiling as if Castillo did not ex
L Castillo turned toward me, hands on
nd said, "Crap, now I've lost my In-
n skills, too," in clear reference to the
early medi ism the players took.

It is my impression that, whi
ty may be judged from the bleacher
tools that make up those skills can be ap-
preciated only on the field itself.
holds up a ball, says, "Let's play some," and
n to back away, throwing easily, un-
about 50 yards apart. Castillo
probably has the best arm on the team,
perhaps the best arm in the league; and as
he begins to throw harder, I am puzzled,
as I have always been, by this strange phe-
nomenon, the major-league arm.
stillo and I are about the same size
and build, yet when he turns the ball loose,
it jumps from his hand and rises, seeming
to gather velocity. It’s the same playing
catch with outfielders Larry Harlow, Bob-
by Jones or Champ Summers. It’s as if
there is some elemental transfer of power
when they throw; as if, through some
blessing at birth, their hands are conduc-
tors in a weird kinetic. process by which the
ball is infused with energy and nearly
glows with a voltaic if temporary energy:
For those of us who do not have the gift, i
is a real pissei

Castillos throw jumps toward me and
my glove pops, emitting а slight searing
sound, the whine of leather. Г throw the
ball back, hard, but it scems suffocated by
friction, its trajectory collapsing as if a tiny
parachute has been pulled.

Amos Otis yells to me, “Hey, m
some color in that rainbow!”

Kim Allen walks by, listening to Gospel
music on his cassette player. “You're chok-
ing the ball,” he says. “Hold it higher in
your fingers. Get on top of it.”

My next throw scems beiter: The ball
appears to rise slightly; there is a brief
Ricker of life. 1 call to Castillo, "Did that
move any?

Castillo grin
moved—fre
ball back.

Castillo, who played for Detroit from
1981 to 1985, was a hitting star in the 1984
World Series but spent most of his career
ing behind Lance Parrish. At the age
the minimum age

n, put

and answers,
you to me,” and guns the

even members of the press wonder why he
is not still in the big leagues. As Glenn
a reporter who covers ba
nnett News Service, told те.
could he play in the majors.
than a lot of catchers there now

Although tempted to ask Castillo about
it, 1 have learned that discussing the cir-
cumstances of a player's release evokes a
momentary uneasiness, a reaction of near

sociat-
n of a failed marriage.
In a game built on pitiful margins of suc-
cess—one hit in three 2 r the best
hitters, six wins in ten games for the best

Even so, a sense of having f
ly, seems to be the
that binds all с:

still found time to play ball in a semi
league for no pay “For the California
Earthquakes,” he tells me, "because my
brother was manager and I knew Га get to
start every game."

We won last night 2-1, beating the St.
Lucie Legends, behind outstanding pitch-
ing from Rich Gale and Eric Rasmussen.
Tonight, though, we lost 10-9, yet it was an
extraordinary gam
Pepe Frias, Tim Ireland and Ron Pi
made all the sweet plays, and the hitting
was even better. Otis homered in the first,
the third and the ninth, but Legends
catcher Jerry 17, homered in the
sccond and in the bottom of the ninth to
win it. As Grote rounded the bases, people
in the stands took up the chant—“Jerry!
Jerry! Jerry!"—which was the most ex-
traordinary thing of all. Although official
attendance was listed au just over 400, 1
counted fewer than 200 faces in this huge
Mets spring-training complex, and their
voices made a wild sound, echoing off the
naked cement stands before thinning in
the night wind.

On the bus trip home, though, there is
no talk of low auendance—indced, players
зест unconcerned that, on this road trip,
the average attendance was closer to 500
than to the 2500 team owners say they
need for the league to survive. The players
seem focused only on the game; little else
matters. This purity of purpose cxplains,
at least in part, some of the great baseball 1
have seen these past three weeks. Magical
plays are being made each night on the
held, yet few fans are in the stands to w
ness them. Weeks later, speaking with Bill
Lee (known as Spaceman when he pitched
for Boston), he would liken these games to
a Zen discipline in which artists perform
in an empty room.

Behind me on the bus, I hear snatches of
com fi

“Catty did you sce Grote's shoes? Christ,
he musta pulled them out of the basement
or something. They had cobwebs on them.
They were fucking old Wilson Kang:
roos!"

“To be a manager in the minors, you
have to know at least twenty- four-let-
ter words, and those twenty-seven have to
include "horses ass’ and ‘you egg-sucking
mother dog.

“Somebody dumped greenies into the
coffee, but nobody knew it. Even the coach-
es were banging around the dugout like
men gone loony.”

y up in there, man! | got-

ta pee, gotta pee, gotta pee!"

A soldier boy is a hitter who ju
there with a bat on his shoulder
Baseball Jones—that's what we ar

“Rasmussen's right. You have to be Bob
Newhart to be a pitching coach
Show, because the league is filled with Mr.
Carlins.”

Ahead of me, pitcher Jim Slaton sits wi
his son Jon, 14, their heads togethe
laughing, traveling in their own private
orb. 1 rise to get another beer and Doug
Bird holds up his empty can, 1
take it, "Man, it seems weird, doesnt it?
Riding a bus again after all these

.
away; Fort Myers Sun Sets
us St. Petersburg Pelicans at Al Lang Sta-
dium.

St. Petersburg, sometimes called Cath-
burg by people who know it only as a
rctirement center, is one of the best basc-
ball towns in Florida. Players who seemed
not to notice the empty stands of Pompano
and St. Lucie now seem caught in the party
atmosphere of the Sixties rock and roll bc-
ing played over the PA. and of stands al-
ready filling an hour before game timc.

Wild thing, you make my heart sing... .

Steve МеСацу who is using a fungo bat
in the bull pen to give Tim Hosley chip-
ping lessons, looks up briefly and says to
Rick Waits, "Man, don't you hate it when
they play that song before you pitch?

Waits just grins as the Troggs sing on:
You make everything . . . groovy.

Beyond the lights of the stadium, the sky
is iridescent A moon rind rides a fading
sunset, with Venus, а bright-blue shard,
suspended above. Above the moon, | scc a
bird gliding on straight wings and holler to
Don Hood, “Hey, Hoody—an eagle!”

Hood, who is a serious amateur natural-
ist, stands beside me, watching, and says,
“Great night to be at the ball yard, huh?
Au that instant, а half dozen feral parrots
scream past us, tumbling into the fronds of
а palm uec. Pepe Frias secs the parrots
and beams; to him, they must carry the
scent of home.
was born in the Dominican Repub-
lic village of Consuelo near San Pedro de
Macoris, “the place where all the baseball
come from," he says. One of M
п, he slept on the floor in his par
ents’ house and quit school after the sec-
ond grade to help support the family. But
s had the gift of speed and the hands
natural shortstop. At the age of 16, he
оп his country's national
am, and in 1967, he signed with the Gi-
ants for $1500— money he gave to his par-
ents belore packing his clothes in a sack

n the Unit-

„һе

his leg so badly that the Giants gave

him an uncond 1 release, and ће re-

turned to the Dominican Republic, think-
ing his baseball career was over. He was
not yet 19. But then his mother hired а
voodoo shaman to pray over his leg.

“Three times she pray,” he says. “After she
pray three times, my foot, it was healed.
Three times, |

For 19 years, Frias played professional
baseball in the United States. Released by
the workl-champion Dodgers in 1981, he
traveled to the Mexican League, where he
played and coached.

As I pick up my glove and head toward
the bull pen, Frias yells after me, in tri
cate, as usual, “Hey, Rand! You can catch,
you can catch, you can catch!"

Catching is what 1 like to do—though I
am clearly out of my league with the Sun
Sets. They have Castillo, who is superb,
plus Pruitt and Hosley who, as Dobson
says, "know how to win.” That sounded
like one of those meaningless baseball
chestnuts (“Не came to play”) until I
talked with Putnam one day. After realiz-
ing, to our mutual surprise, that I had
caught him in an amateur-league game
more than 15 years ago, Putnam went on
to list the places he had played since:
nor-league ball, winter ball, eight year:
the majors, then two years in Japan. 1
to calculate the approximate number of
games we had played since little league 1
figured my total to be about 300, while his
came to around 4000. The latter figure
would be roughly the same, we decided,
for most pro players in the league. Count-
ing practices, 4000 games translates into
tens of thousands of ground balls, fly balls,
cuts at the plate and complex game situa-
tions that, to these men, must no longer
seem complex. The game of baseball,
which to most of us seems a wonderful
randomness caged between two foul lines,
must to them reduce the world to its very
sharpest focus. On the field, the options
are obvious. and Dobson is right: They
know what must be done to win.

I like catching batting practice. 1 like the
way the mask tunnels the vision so that all
that exists is the pitcher's eyes and the
spinning ball. I like watching these guys
hit, taking outside pitches to the opposite
field, taking inside pitches deep, laughing
and joking as they demonstrate a level of
craftsmanship even (hey don't appreciate.

Beter than B.P, though, is catching in
the bull pen. My first day, the pitchers
seemed wary and made sure I heard their
stories about pi g to enthusiastic ama-
teurs: grim tales of split noses and broken
teeth. We use no mask in the Sun Sets bull
pen, but my face survived— probably be-
cause of the extraordinary control these
guys have. Everything is in a box, knees to
belt, the nasty curve balls, the sliders and
the fork balls, with their weird spin. After
а few games, left-hander Dave LaRoche
would tell me, “The other pitchers and I
were talking. You do a good job back
there.” This ego boost was soon felled by
Castillo, who a few nights later said, “Yeah,
Randy, you might get a chance to play—if
there's a real bad bus crash.”

Waits, who has allowed only one earned
run in the past 23 innings, is pitching
shutout baseball for us tonight, and every-
body in the bull pen settles back. Waiters is
after a complete game, and it looks as if he
will get it. The fans are really into it, yell-
ing at the players, screaming at the um-
pires, making such a noise that people
even ten blocks away must certainly know
that a competitive sport is being played
here.

In the bull pen, one of the pitchers is say-
ing, “Two AM., and my wife and I would
hear this banging on our door. I'd open it,
and there'd be Piniclla standing in not
ing but his underwear, holding a baseball
bat. He'd say, ‘Hey, check out this stance.
You see what I'm doing here? Tell me i
helps me get my hands out quicker. . . `

Steve Luebber, who has been pitching
very well in relief, follows my gaze to the
statuesque ball girl just down the foul line
from us. We look at her, we look at each
other, then look at her again. “My gosh,”
says Luebber, “looks like she stepped on an
air hose, doesn

On the field, infielders who have suppos-
edly lost their skills are putting on a
fielding clinic, and hitters who have lost
their eye are hitting ropes. More impor-
tantly, the fans are on every pitch, having a
great time.

At night, a crowded baseball stadium
takes on a separate from the world
around it. This could be Wrigley or Can-
dlestick or Fenway or Ebbets, but it’s not,
and it doesn't matter. Not only is the game
being played here, it is being played well;
so well, in fact, that more and more people
are agreeing that the Senior League was
badly named. lt should have been called
the Masters.

In the weeks that followed, attendance
picked up (though the league's future is
still uncertain), Rick SaBell was released
(though another former Class A player,
pitcher Steve Strickland, made the team).
Tim Ireland, who never got much of a
chance in the majors, went on a 24-game
hitting tear and finally proved just how
good he was by winning the league batting
title. Frias became a home-crowd favorite,
Otis continued hitting and Dobson and
"Torchia, both gifted managers, became ac-
knowledged major-league prospects. Yet
the Sun Sets, plagued by pitching-staff in-
juries, began a losing streak that did not
end for days and days.

On this balmy November nightin St. Ре-
tersburg, though, with Waits pitching a
shutout and the fans wild with purpose, all
of that is wecks away. Castillo, who has the
night off, tosses me his catcher's glove and
says, "Ther Putnam has a better
knuckle ball than те." We go to the bull
pen, where he begins to throw that strange
pitch that brings the ball to life, drifting
and diving, and my concentration is abso-
lute.

We win again, 7-0.

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(continued from page 84)
he yearned for some indefinable improve-
ment in his lot, and to ease this yearning,
he had lately taken to penetrating ever
more deeply into the Malsueno, to daring
unknown territory, telling himself that
perhaps in the depths of the jungle, he
would find a form of contentment, but
knowing to his soul that what he truly
sought was release from an existence
whose despair and spiritual malaise had
come to outweigh any fleshly reward.

One day, toward the end of те rainy sca-
son, Arce received word that a man who
had taken a room at the Hotel America 66,
one Yuoki Akashini, had asked to see him.
In general, visitors to Santander Jimenez
were limited to scientists hunting speci-
mens and the odd tourist gone astray, and
се, according to his informant, Mr.
Akashini fell into neither of those cati
gories, Атсе5 curiosity was aroused. That
„ he presented himself at the hotel
nformed the owner, Nacho Perez, а
bulbous, officious man of 50, that he had
an appointment with the Japanese gentle-
man. Nacho—who earned the larger part
of his living by selling relics purchased.
from the maraneros at swindler's prices—
attempted to pry information concerning
the appointment out of him; but Arce, who
loathed the hotel owner, having been

cheated by him on countless occasions,
kept his own counsel Before entering
room 23, he poked his head in the door
and saw a short, crewcut man in his early
30s standing by a cot, wearing gray trou-
sers and a T-shirt. The man glowed with
health and had the heavily developed arms
and chest of a weight lifter. His smile was
extraordinarily white and fixed and wide.
"Senor Cienfuegos? Ah, excellent!" he
id, and made a polite bow. “Please
come in, come in."

"Тһе room, which reeked of disinfectant,
was of green concrete block and, like a jail
cell, contained one chair, onc cot, one toi-
let. Cobwebs clotted the transom and light
was provided by a naked bulb dangling
from a ceiling fixture. Mr. Akashini of-
fered Arce the chair and took a position by
the door, hands clasped behind his back
and legs apart, like a soldier standing at
case.

“Lam told,” he said, his voice hoarse, ‚his
попе dipped, almost as if in accu

“you know the jungle well.” He arched an
eyebrow, lending an accent of inquiry to
these words.

“Well enough, 1 suppos:

Mr. Akashini nodded and made a rum-
bling noise deep in his throat—a sign of
approval, Arce thought.

“If you're considering a trip into the jun-
gle,” he said, crossing his legs, “I'd advise
against it.”

"| do not require a guide,”

said Mr.

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Akashini. “1 want you to bring me food."

Arce was nonplused. "There's a restau-
rant downstairs."

Mr. Akashini stood blinking, as if ab-
sorbing this information, then threw back
his head and laughed uproariously. "Very
good! A restaurant downstairs!" He wiped
his eyes. “You have mistaken my meaning.
I want you to bring me food from the jun-
gle. Here. This will help you understand:

He crossed to the cot, where a suitcase
lay open, and removed from it a thick
leather-bound album, which he handed to
Arce. It contained photographs and news-
paper clippings that featured shots of Mr.
Akashini at dinner. The text of the majori-
ty of the clippings was in Japanese, but sev-
eral were in Spanish, and it was apparent
from these—which bestowed upon Mr.
Akashini the tide of The All-Consum-
ing—and from the photographs that ће
was not eating ordinary food but objects of
different sorts: automobiles, among them a
Rolls-Royce Corniche; works of art, includ-
ıg several important expressionist can-
vases and a small bronze by Rodin;
cultural artifacts of every variety, mostly
American, ranging from items such as one
of Elvis Presleys leather-and-rhinestone
jump suits, a guitar played by Jimi Hen-
drix and Lee Harvey Oswald's Carcano
rifle—obtained at “an absurd cost,” ac-
cording to Mr. Akashini—to the structure
of the first McDonald's restaurant, a meal
that, ground to a powder and mixed with
gruel, had taken a year to complete. Arce
did not understand what had compelled
Mr. Akashini to enter upon this strange
gourmandizing, but onc thing was plain:
‘The man was wealthy beyond his wildest
dreams, and although this did not overly
excite Arce, for he had few wants, never-
theless, he was not one to let an opportuni-
ty for profit slip away.

^] am listed in the Guinness Book of
World Records," said Mr. Akashini proudly.
"Three times." He held up three fingers in
order to firmly imprint this fact on Arces
consciousness.

Arce tried to look

B on, "to eat.
the Malsueno. Not everything in it, of
course.” He grinned and clapped Arce on
the shoulder, as if to assure him of the lim-
its of his appetite. “I wish to cat those
things that will convey to me its essence.
Things that embody the soul of the place.”

“I sec," said Arce, but failed to disguise
the puzzlement in his voice

“You are wondering, are you not,” said
Mr. Akashini, tipping his head to the side,
holding up a forefinger like an earnest lec-
turer, “why I do this?

“It's not my business.”

“Still, you wonder.” Mr. Akashini turned
to the wall above his cot, again clasping his
hands behind his back. He might have
been standing on the bridge of a ship, con-
sidering a freshly conquered land. “I ad-
mit to a certain egocentric delight in
accomplishment, but my desire to consume
stems to a large degree from curiosity;

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152

from my love for other cultures, my desire
to understand them. When I eat, you see, 1
understand. I cannot always express the
understanding, but it is profound . . . more
profound, | am convinced, than an under-
standing gained from study or travel or
immersion in some facet of one culture or
another. I know things about the United
States that not even Americans know. 1
have tasted the inner mechanisms of
American history, of the American experi-
ence. I have recently finished writing a
book of meditations on the subject." Не
turned to Arce. “Now, it is my intention to
understand the Malsueno, to derive from
its mutations, from the furies of the radi
tion and chemicals and poisons that creat-
ed them, a comprehension of its essence.
So I have come to you for assistance. I will
pay well.

He named a figure that elevated Arce's
estimate of his wealth, and Arce signaled
his acceptance.

“But how can you expect to eat poison
and survive?" he asked.

“With caution.” Mr /
and patted his flat belly.

hini chuckled

Arce pictured tiny cars, portraits, statu-
ary te
e

nples, entire civilizations in minia-
и nside Mr. Akashini’s stomach,
floating upon an angry sca like those de-
picted by the print maker Hokusai. The
image infused the man's healthy glow with
a decadent character.

“Please, have no fear about my capacity,"

. “I am in excellent con-
dition and accustomed to performing feats
of ingestion. And I have implants that will
neutralize those poisons that my
cannot handle. So, if you are agreed, I will
expect my first meal tomorrow’

“Til see to it.” Arce came to his feet and,
easing around Mr. Akashini, made for the
door.

"Excuse, please!”

Arce turned and was met with a flash
that blinded him for a moment; as hi
sion cleared, he saw his employer lowering
a camera.

‘See
Akashir

He nodded and smiled as if he already
understood everything there was to know
about Arce.

ou at suppertime!” said Mr

Although determined to earn his fee,
Arce did not intend to risk himself in the
deep jungle for such a fool as Mr. Akashini
appeared to be. Who did the man think he
was to believe he could ingest the v
omous essence of the Malsueno? Likely, he
would be dead in a matter of
efficient his implants. And so the following
afternoon, without bothering to put on
protective gear, Arce walked a short dis-
tance into the jungle and cast about for
something exotic and inedible . but
nothing too virulent. He did not want to
lose his patron so quickly. Soon he found

an appropriate entree and secured it in-
side a specimen bag. At dusk, his find laid
out in a box of transparent plastic with a
small hinged opening, he presented him-
self at the hotel. Room 23 had undergone a
few changes. The cot had been removed,
and in its place was a narrow futon. Domi-
nating the room, making it almost impos-
sible to move, was a mahogany
table set with fine linens and silverware
and adorned with a silver candelabrum.
Mr. Akashini, auired in a dinner jacket
and a black tie, was seated at the table,
smiling his gleaming edifice of a smile.

“Ah!” he said. “And what do you have
for me, Señor Cienfuegos?”

With a flourish, Arce deposited the box
on the table and was rewarded by an ap-
preciative sigh. In the dim light, his culi-
nary offering—ordinary by the grotesque
ndards for the Malsueno—looked spec-
tacularly mysterious: an 18-inch-long sec-
tion of a rotten log, shining a vile, vivid
green, with the swirls of phosphorescent
fungus that nearly covered its dark,
grooved surface; scuttling here and there
were big spiders that showed a negative
black against the green radiance, like intri-
cate holes in a glowing film that was sliding
ack and forth . . . except now and again,
they merged into a single many-legged
blackness that pulsed and shimmered and
grew larger still. Bathed in that glow, Mr
Akashini's face was etched into a masklike

inner

d shadow.
he said, his eyes glued

pattern of garish lig

“What are they
to the box.

For Mr. Akashini's benef
ed to invention.

"They are among the great mysteries of
the Malsueno,” he said. “And thus, they
have no name, for who can name the in-
comprehensible? They are insect absences,
they live, they prey on life, and yet they are
lightless and undefined, more noth
than somethi "hey are common yet the
essence of rarity, They are numberless, yet
they are one,

At this, words failed him. He folded his
arms and affected a solemn pose.
Excellent!” whispered Mr. Akashini,
leaning close to the lid of the box. He
made one of his customary throaty growls
“You may leave now. I wish to eat alone so
as to maximize my understandi

That was agreeable to Arce, who had no
wish to observe the fate of the spiders and
the fungus-coated log. But as he turned to
leave, pleased with the facility with which
he had satisfied the terms of his employ-
ment, Mr. Akashini said, "You have provid-
ed me with a marvelous hors d'oeuvre,
señor, but I expect much more of you. Is
that clear?"

"Of course,” said Arce, startled.

“No, not of course. There is nothing of
course about what I've asked of you. | ex-

Arce resort

pect diligence. And even more than dili-
gence, | expect zeal.”

Ó
1r. Akashini, fitting his gaze
10 the glowing feast, his face again ordered
by that impenetrable smile. "Exactly"

Although [or weeks he obeyed Mr.
Akashini's instructions and sought out ev-
er morc exotic and deadly suppers, to
Аксе surpi his employer did not sicl
en and die but thrived on his diet of p
sons and claws and spore. His healthy glow
increased, his biceps bulged like cannon
balls, his eves remained clear. 1t became a
challenge to Arce to locate a dish that
would weaken Mr. Akashini's resistance,
that would at least causc him an upset
stomach. He did not care for Mr. Akashini
and had concluded that the nian was some-
thing more sinister than a fool. And when
cho asked again what was the nature of.
his business in room 23, Arce had no
qualms about telling him, thinking that
Nacho would make a joke of his employer's
diet. But Nacho was incredulous and
shook his fist at Arce. “I'm warning you
he said, "I won't have you taking advantage
of my guests."

Arce understood that Nacho was con-
cerned that he might bc swindling Mr.
Akashini and not cutting him in for a per-
centage. When he tried to clarify the mat-
ter, Nacho only threatened him again,

demanded money, and Arce walked away
in disgust.

It was evident by the way Mr. Aka
used his camera that he had no reg:
anyone in the town. He would appro
potential subjects, all smiles and bo
proceed to pose them, making it pla
he was ridiculing the person whose pho
tograph he was preparing to take. He
posed confused, dignified old men with
bouquets of flowers, he posed Nacho with
a toy machine gun, he posed a young
with an ugly birthmark on her cheek hold-
ing an armful of puppies. Afterward, he
would once again smile and bow, but the
smiles were sneers and the bows were
slaps. Arce understood the uses of con-
tempt—he had witnessed it among his ow
people in their harsh attitude toward
Americans. Yet they were expressing the
с resentment of the poor toward the
wealthy, and he could not fathom why Mr.
, who was wealthier than an
should express a similar аш-
tude toward the poor. Perhaps, he thought,
Mr. Akashini had himself been poor and
was now having his revenge. But why
mself upon those who had never
? Was his need to under-
stand, to consume, part and parcel of a
need to dominate and deride? All Arce
knew of Japan had been gleaned from
books dealing with the samurai, with
knights, sw d а chill formal morali-
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154

detailed in these books were of moment to
i, though in some distorted
fashion. Yet, in the end, he could not de-
Mr. Akashini were as simple as he
red or if there were more to him
than met the eye, and he thought this
might be a question to which not even his
employer knew the answer

Be he complicated or simple, one thing
was apparent—Mr. Akashini did not know
as much as he pretended, He could spout
volumes of facts concerning the Malsueno.
Yet his knowledge lacked the depth of ex-
perience, the unifying character of some-
thing known in the heart of the mind, and.
Arce could not accept the idea that con-
sumption bestowed upon him a deeper
comprehension. The things he claimed to
understand of America—rock-and-roll
music, say—he understood in a Japanese
way imbuing them with watered-down
samurai principles and a neon romanti-
cism redolent of contemporary Tokyo
nightclub values and В movies, thereby
transforming them into devalued icons
that bore little relation to the realities from
which they had sprung,

However, Arce was not such a fool that
he claimed to understand Mr. Akashini,
and putting his doubts aside, he made an
interior renewal of his contract and set
himself to feed Mr. Akashini the absolute
essence of the Malsueno, hoping to cither
prove or disprove the thesis. He was begi
ning to feel an odd responsibility to his
job, to a man who—though he paid well—
had shown him nothing but contempt, and
while this conscientious behavior troubled
him, being out of character with the per-
son he believed he had become, he had no
choice but to obey its imperatives.

Arce' searches carried him farther and
farther afield and one morning found
in a clearing three days’ trek from 5
tander Jimenez. Mr. Akashini would be oc-

cupied for the better part of a week in
devouring his latest offering, which in-
cluded lapis bees and lime ants, a section
from the trunk of a gargantua garnished
with its thorns, an entire duende cooked
with blood vine, various fungi, all sea-
soned with powder ground from woohli
bones and served with a variety of mush-
rooms. Thus, Arce, being in no particular
hurry, stopped to rest and enjoy the other-
worldly beauty of the clearing, its foliage
mingling of mineral brilliance and fairy
shape such as occurred only within the
confines of the Malsueno.

At the center of the clearing was a cloud
pool, a ragged oval some 12 feet in diame-
ter, whose quicksilver surf. ed the
surrounding foliage—yellow weeds; boul-
ders furred with orange moss; mushrooms
the size of parasols, their purple crow
moitled with spots of vermilion; mattes of
dead lianas thick as boas; shrubs with
spine-ipped viridian leaves that quested
ceaselessly for some animal presence in
which to inject their venom; and, dangling
from above, the immense red leaves of a
antua, each large enough to wrap
about oneself several times.

Through gaps in the foliage, Arce could
see the slender trunks of other gargantuas
rising above the canopy, vanishing into a
bank of low clouds. And in th ака
tance, its translucent flesh. barcly visible
against the overcast, a rainbird flapped up
from а stinger palm and beat its way south
against the prevailing wind. Arce watched
it out of sight, captivated by the almos i
palpable vibration of its wings, by the en-
tirety of the scene, with its gaudy of
colors and exotic vitality. At times like this,
he was able to shrug off the bitter weight of
his past for a few moments and delight in
the mystery he inhabited.

Once he had carefully inspected the
area, he settled on а boulder and opened

“I hope you don't think Гт too informal.

jagu

the face plate of his prorective suit. The
heat was oppressive after the coolness of
the suit, and the air stank of carrion and
sweet rot, yet it was refreshing to feel the
breeze on his face. He took a packet of
dried fruit from a pocket on his sleeve and
ate, ever aware of the rustlings and cries
and movement about him—there were
creatures in this part of the jungle that
could pluck him from his suit with no
more difficulty than a man shelling a
peanut, and they were not always easy to
detect. Absently, he tossed a piece of apı
cot into the cloud pool and watched the sil-
very surface eflloresce as it digested the
fruit, ruffles of milky rose and lavender
spreading from the point of impact toward
the edges like the opening of a convulsed
bloom. He considered collecting a vial of
the fluid for Mr. Akashini—that would test
the efficacy of his implants.

Yet to Агсе® mind, the cloud pool did
not embody the essence of the jungle but
rather was a filigree, an adornment, and
he doubted that he could provide his cm-
ployer with any more quintessentially Mal-
suenan a meal than some of those he had
already served him, Mr. Akashini had c:
en fillet of tarzanal, woohli, ghost lemur,
malcoton; he had supped on stews
of tar fish, manta bat, pezmicl, manatee;
he had consumed stone, leaf, root, spore;
he had gorged himself on sauces com-
pounded of poison, feces, animal and
plant excrescence of every kind; yet he ap-
peared as healthy and ignorant as before.
What, Arce though, if it were the very
efficacy of his implants that kept him from
true understanding? Perhaps to attain
such a state, one must be vulnerable to that
which one wished to understand.

He unzipped another pocket on his
sleeve and removed a packet of pavonine
spores. Arce was no addict, but he enjoyed
a taste of the drug now and again, and
when attempting to scck out certain
mals, he found it more than a little useful.
He touched а spore-covered finger tip to
his tongue, enough to sensitize him to his

immediate env
he felt a tighte

g at the back of his
throat, а qucasiness and a touch of vertigo.
A violent cramp doubled him over, bring-
ing tears and spots before his eyes. By the
time the cramp had passed, he seemed to
be crawling along a high branch of a ga
gantua, hauling himself along with knob-
by hairy fingers tipped with claw;
pushing aside heavy folds of dangling
leaves with ropy patterns of veins,
inflamed by a dark-red emotion that
sharpened into lust as he was being lifted,
ken, pincers locked about his chitinous
body and, above him, impossibly tall pale
arcs of grass blades and the glowing white
blur of an orchid sun; and then, fat with
blood, he hung dazed and languorous in a
shadowy place: and then he was leaping,
his jaws wide, claws straining toward the
flanks of a flecing tapir: and then his mind
went blank and still and calm, like a pool
of emerald water steeped in a single

thought; and then, his shadow casting а
lake of darkness across a thicket of sapodil-
la bushes, he roared, on fire with the ecsta-
sy of his strength and the exuberance of
his appetites.

Less than three minutes after he had
taken the pavonine, Arce came unsteadily
to his feet and started hunting for the calm
een mind that his mind had touched
like nothing he had touched before. Calm,
and yet a calm compounded of a trillion
minute violences, like the jungle itself in
the hour before first light, brimming with
hot potentials, but, for the moment, cool
and peaceful and hushed. Whatever it had
been was close by the pool, Arce was cer-
tain, and so he knew it could be nothing
large. He overturned rocks with the toe of
his boot, probed in the weeds with a rotten
stick and at length unearthed a smallish
snake with an intricate pattern of red and
yellow and white tattooed acress its black
scales. It slithered away but did so with no
particular haste, as if—rather than trying
to elude capture—it was simply going on
its way, and when Arce netted it, instead of
twisting and humping about, it coiled up
and went to sleep. Sceing this, Arce did not
doubt that the snakes skull housed the
nd he had contacted, and although ће
had no real feeling that the snake would
plement Mr. Akashini’s understanding,
still he was pleased to have found some-
thing new and surprising to feed him.

On his return to Santander Jimenez, he
served Mr. Akashini a meal that included а
palm salad with diced snake meat. Then,
leaving him to dine alone, he walked
across town to the Salon Tia Flaca, a ram-
bling three-story building of dark-green
boards close to the market, and there
cured the companionship of a whore for
the night. The whore, his favorite, was
named Expectacion and was а young
thing, 19 or 20, pretty after the fashion of
the women of the coast, slim and dark,
with full breasts and a petulant mouth and
black hair that tumbled like smoke about
her shoulders. Once they had made love,
she brought Arce rum with ice and lim
and lay beside him and asked questions
about his life whose answers were of no in-
terest to her whatsoever. Arce realized that
her curiosity was a charade, that she was
merely fulfilling the forms of their unwrit-
ten contract, but nevertheless, he felt com-
pelled to tell her about Mr. Akashini and
the peculiar business between them, be-
cause by so doing, he hoped to disclose a
pattern underlying it, something that
would explain his new sense of responsibi
ity, his complicity in this foolhardy mission.

When he was done, she propped herself
up on an elbow, her pupils cored with or-

nge reflections from the kerosene lamp,
and said, “He pays you so much, and still
you remain in Santander Jimenez?

“vs as I've told you... I'm as happy here
as anywhere. I've nowhere to go."

“Nowhere! You must be crazy! This"—
she waved at the window, at the dark wall

of the jungle beyond and the malfunction-
ing neons of the muddy little town—"this
nowhere! Even money cant change that.
But the capital . . . with money. That's a dif-
ferent D
оште young.” he said. “You don't un-
derstand

She laughed. "The only way you can un-
derstand anything is to do it... . Then it's
not worth talking about. Tell that to your
Japanese man. Anyway, youre the one who
doesnt understand." She threw her arms
aboı her breasts flattening against
his chest. "Let's get out of here, lets steal
the Jap's money and go to the capital. E
if the theft is reported, the police there
dont care what happens in the Malsueno.
You know thats true. They'll just file the
report. Come on, Papá! 1 swear ГІ make
you happy:

Arce was put off by her use of the word
papá, and said, "Do you think I'm a fool?
In the capital, the minute I turned my
back, you'd be off with the first good-look-
ing boy who caught your eye.

“You are a fool to think I'm just a slu
She drew back and seemed to be searching
his face. “Гуе been a whore since I was
twelve, and Гуе learned all I need to know
about good-looking boys. What gets my
heart racing is somebody like you. Some-
body rich and refined wholl keep me safe.
I'd marry a guy like you in a flash. But
even if I was the kind of woman you say, no
jury 1 did you would be worse than what
you're doing to yourself by g here"

He thought he detected in her eyes a
flicker of something morc than reflected
light, of an inner luminescence like that
found in the eyes of a malcoton. It oc-
curred to him that she herself was of the
Malsueno, one of its creatures, the calm
green habit of her thoughts every bit as in-
explicable to him as the mind of the snake
he had captured. And yet there was some-
thing in her that brought back memories
of his dead wile—a mixture of energy and
toughness that tempted him to believe not
only in her but in himself, in the possibility
that he could regain his energy and hope.

“Maybe someday,” he told her. “I'll think
about

"Don't kid yourself, Papá. I don't think
it's in you.” She arched her back, and her
breasts rolled on her chest, drawing his
eyes to the stiffened chocolate.
ples. “I guess you w
marañero. But at least you ve got good taste.
in whores.

She went astri nd made love to
him with more enthusiasm than before,
and as he arched beneath her, watching
her in the dim light that penetrated the
fall of her hair, which hung down about his
head, walling him into a place of warm
breath and musk, he imagined that he
knew her, that he could see past the deceits
and counterfeits in her rapt features to à
place where she was in love not with him
but with the security offered by his circum-
stance. Not truly in love but—like a beast.
that has spotted its prey—in the grip of a

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PLAYBOY

156

fierce opportunism, a feeling that might as
well have been love for its delirium and
consuming intensity,

The next day, when Arce visited the ho-
tel, Nacho Perez, dressed in a sweat-
stained guayabera and shorts, questioned
him about his activities in room 9%

“What's going on up there?” he asked,
mopping perspiration from his brow. “I
won't have any funny business. Is he a drug
addict? A pervert? What are you doing
with him? He never lets anyone in the
room, not even the maid. 1 won't tolerate
this kind of behavio

“You'll tolerate anything, Nacho,” said
Arce, “as long as youre paid to tolerate
Ask your questions of Akashini

“Listen to me . . ." Nacho began, but
Arce caught him by the shirt front and
said, “You bastard! Give me a reason—not
а good reason, justa little one—and I'll cut
you, do you hear

Nacho licked his lips and said, "1 hear”
but there was no conviction in his voice.

On reaching the room, Arce discovered
that Mr. Akashini had spent a sleepless
night. His color was poor, his brow clam-
my, his hands trembling. Yet when Arce
suggested that he forgo his meal, the
Japanese man said, “No, no! I'm all right."
He passed a handkerchief across his brow.
“Perhaps something simple, A few
plants .. . some insects.” Arce had по
choice but to comply, and for several days

thereafter, he served Mr. Akashini harm-
less meals from the edge of the jungle; yet
despite this, whether because of the snake
or simply because of a surfeit of poisons
that had neutralized his implants, M
Akashini continued to deteriorate. His
skin acquired the unhealthy shine of milk
spore, his eyes were clouded, his manner
distracted, and he grew so weak that it
took him three tries to heave himself up
from his chair. Nothing Arce said would
sway him from his course.

“1 feel" —Mr. Akashini had to swallo
“I feel asif 1 am . . . close to something.”

Close to death, was Arce's thought, but it
was not his place to argue, and he only
shrugged.

“Yes,” said Mr. Akashini, as if answering
a question inaudible to Arce. He ran a
palsied hand along the linen tablecloth,
which—like its owner—displayed the ef-
fects of ill usage: stains, rips, embroideries
of mildew. Even the candclabrum secmed
afflicted, its surface tarnished. On а
chipped plate were the remains of a meal:
philosopher beetles thrashing in a stew of
weeds and wild dog. “I... uh. . |” Mr.
Akashinis eyclids fluttered down and he
gestured fecbly at the plate. “Stay with me
while I finish, will you

Astonished at this breach of custom, for
Mr. Akashini had never before permitted
him to rema 1 him while he ate, Arce
took a seat on the futon and watched in
lence as his employer laboriously swal-

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lowed down the stew. At last, пе fell back in
his chair, the muscles bunching іп his
jaw .. . or so Arce thought at first, his у
sion limited by the flickering candlelight
But then, to his horror, he realized th:
this was no simple muscular action, It ap-
peared that a lump was moving beneath
Mr. Akashini’s skin, crawling crabwisc
across the cheek, along the cheekbone,
then down along the hinge of the jaw and
onto the neck, where it vanished as if sub-
merging into the flesh. However, the truly
horrifying aspect of this passage was that
in its wake, the skin was suffused with
blood, darkened, and the lump of muscle
lefi—as a receding tide might reveal the
configuration of the sand bencath—an ex-
pression such as Arce had never seen on
any human face, one that scemed a rende

ng in human musculature of an emotion
too poignant for such a canvas, embodying
something of lust and fear but mostly а
kind of feral longing. The expression fad-
ed, and Mr. Akashini, who had not moved
for several minutes, his mouth wide open,
let out a gurgling breath.

Certain that he was dead, Arce leaned
over him and was further horrified to no-
tice that the man’s arms were freckled with
vaguely phosphorescent patches of gra
fungus. Closer inspection revealed other
anomalies: three fingernails blackened
and thick like chitin; strange whitish
growths, like tiny outcroppings of crystal,

nside the mouth; a cobweb of almost
infinitesimally fine strands spanning the
right eye. Arces thoughts alternated be-
tween guilt and fear of implication in the
death, but before he could decide how to
proceed, Mr. Akashini stirred, giving him
а start.

“1 really believe that 1 am making prog-
ress,” Mr. Akashini said with surprising
vigor, and gave an approving growl

Arce was inclined to let Mr. Akash
have his illusion, but a reflex of morality
inspired him to say, “I think you're dying."

Mr. Akashini was silent for a long time.
ally, he said, “That is not important. I
m making progress, nonetheless.”

This confused Arce,
wonder whether or not he had misjudged
Mr. Akashini by labeling him a fool. But
then he thought that his original judgment
have been correct, and that Mr
i's judgment concerning his own
asm must have been in error. Arce
hy for him, and yet, contrasting
ashini's attitude with his own de-
ichment, he envied him the rigor of his
ment.

“Will you continue to help me?" Mr.
Akashini asked, and Arce, suddenly infect-
ed with а desire to know his emplo:
comprehend the obscure drives that moti-
ed him, could only say ves.

Mr. Akashini nodded toward his suit-
case, which lay closed on the futon
“There .. . look beneath the clothing”

In the suitcase was a fat sheaf of travel-
ers checks. Arce handed them to Mr
Akashini, who—barely able to hold the

Fı

pen—began endorsing them, saying, “You
must keep them away from me. .. the peo-
ple who would report my condition. Some-
one tries the door when you are away: 1

want nothing to interfere with . . . with
what is happening.”
Considering Nacho suspicious ques-

tions and avaricious nature, Arce knew
that Mr. Akashinis worries were well
founded, yet he could not understand why
his employer trusted him with such a vast
sum of money. When he asked why, Mr.
Akashini replied that he had no choice.

“Besides,” he said, “you will not betray
me. You have changed as much as 1 these
past months, but one thing has not
changed—you're an honest man, though
you may not want to admit it

Arce, convinced that because of his
proximity to death, Mr. Akashini might
have clearer sight than ordinary folk,
asked how he had changed, but his em-
ployer had fallen aslecp. Watching him,
Arce thought it might be possible for him
to know Mr. Akashini, and that they might
have been friends, though only for a brief
period. If they were both changing—and
he believed they were, for he sensed
change in himself the way he sometimes
sensed the presence of a lurking animal in
a shadowy thicket—then they were chang-
ing in different directions, and in passing,
they were likely to experience a momen-
tary compatibility at best.

Unable to care for Mr. Akashini every
hour of the day, Arce recruited Expecta-
cion to assist him, bestowing trust upon
her with the same hopeful conviction with
which Mr. Akashini had bestowed it upon
him. Yet he was not so thoroughly trusting
as his employer. When forced to be away

from the room, he would leave valuables
tucked into places where a cursory search
would reveal them. Not once did he discov-
er anything missing, and he tock this for

lieved Expectacion had made a search—
but of wisdom. He understood that she
was interested less in making a minor
profit than in changing her life, and since
wisdom was an ultimately more reliable
virtue than trustworthiness, he came to
value her more and more, to dote upon the
sweetness of her body and the bright par-
ticularity of her soul.

Yet as they watched Mr. Akashini being
transformed into the artifact of his under-
standing, a strong bond developed be-
tween them, one that stopped short. of
untrustworthy passion and yet had many
of the dependable consolations of love. It
would have been unnatural had they not
developed such а bond, because the event
to which they were bearing witness was so
monstrous it enforced union. 1 the
space of a few weeks, fungi of various sorts
grew to cover much of Mr. Akashini's body.
creating whorls of multicolored fur—saf-
fron, lavender and gray. His visible skin be-
came pale and puffy, prone to odd
ftings and spasms, and his right eye was

totally obscured by glowing silver webs
and green spiders scarcely bigger than
pinheads, and more cobwebs spanned be-
tween his shoulders and neck and the
walls, and a bubbled milky film coated his
tongue, until finally, he had undergone a
metamorphosis into a fearsome creature
whose eyes glowed silver with greeny
speckles in the darkened room, burning
out from a head shaped like a tuber, his
body sheathed in a mummy wrapping of
cobwebs and moss, stalks of mustard-
colored fungi clumped like tiny cities here
and there, a thing capable only of emitting
croaked entreaties for food or asking that
a photograph be taken. On one occasion,
however, he appeared to regain something
of his old spirit and strength and engaged
Arce and Expectacion in conversation.

“You must be concerned, my
friends," he sai is gloriou

The effect of his lips, almost sealed with
clots of fungus, splitting and the effortfully
spoken words oozing forth, struck Arce as
being more ghastly than glorious, but he
refrained from saying as much

“Why does it seem glorious?” he asked.

Mr. Akashini made a noisc that appro:
mated laughter, the heaving of his chest
and diaphragm causing pulls of dusty
spores to spurt into the air. The candle
flames flickered; a faint tide of a
lapped up his legs, then receded. “1 .. ." he
said. “I am . . . becoming.”

Expectacion asked in a tremulous voice
if he wanted water, and he turned his head
toward her—the laborious motion of a
statue coming to life after a centurieslong
endi animent.

g here, |, ignoring her
question, “I am arrowing toward comple-
tion. Toward . I wanted tobe-
lieve but never could. I understand.

“The Malsueno?” Arce asked. “You un-
derstand the Malsucno?”

“Not yet” was the answer. “I under-
stand . .. not everything. But I had no un-
derstanding of anything before.”

He appeared to drift off for a moment.

“What's happening to you?” Expecta-
cion asked him.

“When I was young," he
dreamed of becoming a samurai.

He gave another horrid laugh.

Expectacion looked perplexed, and
Arce wondered if his employer were ram-
bling as men would in the grip of fever; yet
he could not quite believe that. He sensed a
new rectitude in Mr. Akashini, one that ac-
corded with the ideas about Japan he had
gleaned from his reading. But neither
could he accept that what he sensed was
wholly accurate, because Mr. Akashini's
horrifying appearance seemed to put the
lie to the notion of beneficent change.

In that stomach where once he had envi-
sioned cars and paintings and other odd-
ments of culture, he now pictured a
miniature jungle, and sometimes, on en-
tering the room from the bright corridor,
he would think that a demon with eyes
of unreal fire had materialized in Mr.

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157

PLAYBOY

158

Akashinis chair. He and Expectacion
spent hours on end sitting side by side, lis-
tening to the creaky whisperings of new
growth emanating from the mans flesh,
gazing at the awful pulsings of his chest
and belly Mr. Akashini was so self-in-
volved that they were not embarrassed
about making love in the room. Sex acted
to diminish the miserable miracle before
them and to make their vigil more tolera-
ble, and if it had not been for Nacho's ques-
tions, knockings on the door and general
nt, they might have been happy.
.
ly one morning, before dawn, Arce
went to buy breakfast for himself and Ex-
pectacion—they had slept poorly dis-
turbed by the noises of Mr. Akashin
nd his constant troubled movement.
ing, he heard angry voices issu-
ing from room 23. The bulbous form of
Nacho Perez was blocking the door. He
was haranguing Expectacion, while two
men—maraneros, judging by their tat
toos—scarched the suitcases, doing their
utmost to avoid contact with Mr. Akashini
who sat motionless, emitting a faint
buzzing, shifting now and again amid the
fetters of his cobwebs, the shifts redolent
not so much of muscular contractions as of
vegetable reflex. In the dimness, due to the
activity of microscopic spores, his glowing
eyes appeared to be revolving slowly:

Arce drew his knife, but Nacho caught
sight of him, seized Expectation and
barred an arm beneath her chin.

“TI break her neck!" he said.
xpectacion threw herself about, trying
to kick him, but when Nacho ughtened his
grip, she gave up struggling, other than to
pluck feebly at his arm. Behind him, the
two marañeros had drawn their knives.
Arce recognized one of them—Gilberto
Viera, a thin, sallow man with pocked skin

and a pencil-line mustache.
“Gilberto,” said Arce, “you remember
the time on the Blanco Ojo? 1 helped you

med but only low-
The other man—taller,
of a man born
asked Nacho,

eyes.
darker, with the nappy hai
n the eastern mountains
“What should we do?

“Well,” said Nacho, beaming at Arce,
“that depends on our friend here”

“What do you want?” Arce had to exert
tremendous restraint to resist aiming a
slash at Nacho's double chin.

There must be something,
archly, paying no attention и
sification of Mr. Akashini’s buzzing.
there, Arc

When Arce remained silent, he tight-
ened his grip—Expectacions feet were
lifted off the ground and her face grew
dark with blood. She dug her nails into Na-
chos arm but with no effect.

“There's some money hidden behind
one of the bricks" Arce said grudgingly.
"Let her go.”

Another flurry of buzzing from Mr.
Akashini, accompanied by a series

throaty dicks, as if he were trying to speak
The two marañeros edged away from
chair, bumping against Nach

Which brick is it?” Nacho asked, and
Arce, thinking furiously of how he might
«tricate Expectacion from the fat man's
grasp. was about to tell him, when—with
the ponderous motion of a bloom bursting
from its husk—Mr. Akashini came to his
feet. With his glowing eyes and dark, de-
formed body, рићу strips of pallid skin
showing through the fungus and moss like
bandages, he was a gruesome sight. Gilber-
to tried to shove Nacho aside in an attempt
to escape from the room. However, the
other man spun about and slashed Mr.
Akashini with his knife,

The knife passed through Mr.
Akashini's side, its arc slowing as if en-
countering resistance of the sort that
might be offered by sludge or mud; the
dark Huid that leaked forth flowed with
the sluggishness of syrup. Mr. Akashini
staggered against the wall; his buzzing
and clicking reached furious proportions,
sounding like a nest of bees and crabs to-
gether. A tiny spider scuttled out from hi
right eye, diminishing its glow by a speck
of green. His check bulged. One arm be-
gan to vibrate, his skin bubbled up in
places, his chest puffed and deflated as if

responding to the workings of an enor-
mous flabby heart. Arce was repelled and
retreated along the corridor, but when Mr.
Akashini gave out a growly hu
faction,

i—of satis-
Arce thought—he realized that
«tion of his cinployer's personality
was yet embedded within this vegetable
demon. The man who had wielded the
knife shrieked, and Nacho half-turned to
see what had gone wrong, blocking the
doorway entirely. Arce scizcd the opportu-
nity to leap forward and stab him low in
the back. The hotel owner squealed,
clutching at the wound, and released Ex-
pectacion, who slumped to the floor and
crawled away Arce prepared to strike a
second time, but the hotel owner lurched
to the side, permitting him an unimpeded
view into the room, and what he saw
caused him to hesitate, allowing Nacho to
stumble out of range.

Clouds of spores were pouring up from
Mr. Akashini, filli the air with a
whirling gray powder that reduced the
flames of the candelabrum to pale yellow
gleams, like golden tears hanging in the
murk, and reduced the figures of the two
marañeros to dimly perceived bulks that
kicked and shuddered. One—Arce could
not tell which—collapsed on the futon and
the other crumpled beneath the dining
table, both holding their throats and chok-

Looming above them was Mr.
Akashini, his luminous eyes the brightest
objects in the room, the outline of his body
nearly indistinguishable from the agitated
gray motes around him, looking as om
nous and eerie as a Fate. There was a
flurrying at the edges of the body,
with a rustling sound—a horde of wi
things were developing from the |

skin, Auttering up to add a new density 10
the whirling spores, darkening the air fur-
ther. Several danced out through the door
big carrion moths with charcoal wings. He
must have inadvertently fed Mr. Akashini
some of their eggs, Arce thought, and now
they were hatching. And more than spor
and moths were being born. Spiders, cen-
tipedes, insects of 100 varieties were bur-
rowing up through bis skin, pustule
opening to reveal the heads of infant
snakes and baby beetles, bulges erupting
into larval flows, as the process of Mr
Akashinis understanding, a process of
adaptation and fertilization and fecundity,
at last reached fruition.

Within a minute or two, the room grew
as dark as night, and yet still those strange.
silver eyes burned forth. [t seemed to Arce
that the body must have dissolved, that the
eyes, thickly woven cobwebs, were suspend-
ed by a clever arrangement of strands. But
then the eyes moved closer and he realized
that Mr. Akashini was taking one unstcady
step after another toward the door.

Expectacion caught Агсез arm. “Hu
y!” she cried. “Nacho has gone for help!

Turning, Arce saw that, indeed, the ho-
tel owner was nowhere to be found, a
snail's track of blood along the wall giving
evidence of his passage toward the stairs.

“For Christs sake, Papá!” Expectacion
gave him a push. "Dont just stand there
gawking.”

“No, wai

Arce shook her off, ripped off his shirt
and wrapped it about his face. Then he
dashed into room 23, dived onto the floor
and groped for the brick behind which he
had hidden the money, trying not to
breathe. Once he had secured the packet
of checks, he scrambled to his feet and
came face to face with Mr. АКазћи ith
a gray deformity, with newborn moths
breaking free from a glutinous grain of
skin and mold, with a shadow ofa mouth,
with tepid slow breath, with two eyes of
green and cold silver. The webs of the eyes
were a marvelous texture admitting to an
nfinite depth of interwoven strands, and
Arce saw within them a tropic of green
and silver, a loom of event and circum.
stance, and felt that if he were to continue
ring, he would see not only the truth as
had come to know it but also
xpectacion's. Then he be-
came afraid, and the eyes were again only
webs, and the face before him, with its
hideous growths, appeared a thing
calculable menace. Yet the spores and the
insects and the moths that had trans-

formed the marañeros into anonymous

heaps were keeping clear of hi nd he
realized even then that some тећс of Mr
Akashini's soul was employing restraint.

Arce wanted to say something, to convey
some good wish. but he could think of
nothing that would not seem foolish. With
mixed emotions, not sure what he should
feel for Mr. Akashini, he retreated into the
corridor, grabbed Expectacion by the arm
and sprinted for the stairs.

A line of pink showed above the black
wall of the jungle, and only а few stars
pricked the indigo sky directly overhead:
the neon signs over the bars were pale in
the brightening air, and shadows were be-
ginning to fill in the ruts in the muddy
streets. The coolness of the night was al-
ready being dispelled. There were only a
handful of people out—two drunks stag-
gering along arm in arm; an old Indian
man in rags hunkered down beside à door,
smoking a pipe; farther along, a whore was
yelling at a shirtless youth, Arce led Fs-
pectacion out of the hotel and started to-
ward the jungle, but after about 90 yards,
she balked.

“Where are you
pulling free of him.

“The Malsueno. Well be safe there. I
know places..."

“The hell with you! Im not going in
there!”

He made to g
away.

“You're nuts, Papá! У
body looking for u
way! The capital!
well be safe.”

He stood gazing uncomprehendingly at
her, sceing faces from another time
by old pains, experiencing a harrowing
fear of displacement like that he had felt
on being forced to flee the capi

"Come on!” she shouted. “Nacho'll be
here any second. We can take one of the
cars parked back of the market

"Tran."

“What do you mean, you can't?” She
went back to him and pounded on his
chest, her face twisted with anger and
frustration. “Youre going to get us
Killed . . . just standing here.”

Although the blows hurt, he let her be:
on him, ashamed of his fear and incapa
ty. Even when he saw Nacho turn the cor-
ner, at back a group of marañeros
armed with machetes, he was unable to
y from the place where he
id hidden from memories and pain and
life itself for all these years.
ion, too, had begun to cry “You
really blew it, Papá! We had a chance, vou
and те“ She went a few falte
ward the highway
“Damn you!” Then, with her arms pump-
ing, she fled along the street.

In the other direction, Nacho was limp-
ing forward, holding his back with one
hand. pointing at Arce with the other.
while at his rear. like a squad of drunken

g?" she asked,

цо!

b her, but she danced

iacholl have ev
We have to get f
Thats the only place

soldiers, the maraneros whooped and bran-

knife, determined to make a final stand.
Ar that moment, however, torrents of
spores and insects and serpents and
identifiable scraps of life exploded from
the windows and the door of the hotel.
n ng it appear that the building had
been filled to bu g with black fluid. A
whirling cloud formed between Nacho and.
Arce. At its core, Arce thought he spotted a
shadow, an indi ¢ shape with

glowing eyes, but before he could be cer-
tain of it, the edge of the cloud fraved and
streams of insects raced toward him and
stung his face and neck and arms.

Blinded, he sta d this way and that,
harrowed by the insects, and then he ran
and ran, the dark cloud sending forth riv-
ers of tormenting winged things to keep
him on his course. As he passed through
the outskirts of town. a white pickup госк-
eted out of a side street and swerved to the
side, barely missing him, coming to a rest
against a light pole. Through the wi
shield, he made out Expect
face. Without thinking, desperate to es-
pe the insects, he flung himself into the
truck, began g up the window and
shouted at her to drive. She gunned the
engine and, pursued by the swarm, they
fishtailed out onto the highw

‘They drove into the hills with the sky
ng at their backs, and after exper
encing a flurry of panic on recognizing the
course that had Бе n La sie for.
seemed to Arce th;
process of self-
to Mr. Akashini's—he was shedding a coat-
nd distorted view
iF а shell ниске breaking Away Dom sone
more considered inner man. Not the man
he had been but the man he had become
without knowing it, tempered by years of
solitary endeavor. He felt strong, directed,
full of youthful enthusiasms.

He would go to the capital, he decided,
ot to inhabit the past but to build a future,
to make of it a temple that would honor the
eccentric. brotherhood that existed. be-
tween himself and Mr. Akashini, a broth-
erhood that he had not embraced, that he
could not have acknowledged or under-
stood before, that he did not wholly under-
stand now, but whose consummation had
filled him with the steel of purpose and the

redden

fire of intent. He realized that they were
both men who had lost themselves. Mr.
Akashini to the persuasions of arrogance
and wealth, himself to the дер
air, and how because of the
inquity of a peculiar ambi-
tion and a woman of energ: rength
da he at least had been
allorded the opportunity to move on.

He could not ı ny such pl
Mr. death,
when he looked at Expectaci ion, the lines
of her face aglow with hi, when he
felt the tenderness she had begun to rouse
in him and saw the challenge she present-
ed, the potential for poign:
nd joy and love, those vital flavors he
ected for so long, the prospect of an
adventure with her was dimmed by regret
that he had been unable to do more than
speed Mr. Akashini to his end.

It wasn't fair, he thought.

He had done little, risked little, and yet
he had won through to something real,
whereas Mr. Akashini had only suffered
and died among strangers far from home.
This inequity caused Arce to think that
perhaps he had won nothing, to wonder if
everything he felt was the product of delu-
sion. But as they climbed high into the
hills, on glaneing back toward Santander
Jimenez, he saw there a sight that seemed
to memorialize all that had happened:
illions of insects and spores and things
unnamable were spiraling above the m
able little town, а towering blackness
that—despite a blustery wind—main-
tained its basic form, at one moment ap-
pearing to be the shadow of a great curved
sword poised to deliver a sundering blow
and at the next, a column of ashes climbing
то heaven inst Ihe crimson pyre of the
ing sun.

ions of.

howev

“As a result of our environmental-impact study, we've decided
to abandon Ihe entire project!”

159

PLAYBOY

AARON NEVILLE

(continued from page 112)

“Keith Richards told те, Pue been listening to you

since the early Sixties.’”

as ever. Then he goes back a little further.
“Now it’s time to say goodbye / To all our
company,” he sings, caressing the lyrics
so tenderly that even though you know
whats next, you can't really believe it
-C-K-F-Y ... M-O- Ee

It doesn't make sense. In fact, it's down-
right silly. But still, the goose bumps come.
But it raises a question: If Aaron Neville
can break your heart by singing the theme
to The Mickey Mouse Club, isn't it a trick,
not a response to genuine emotion but sim-
ply a weird reflex to his vocal acrobatic:

And then you realize it’s a stupid ques-
n. This is a man who can break your heart
by singing the theme to “The Mickey Mouse
Club.” And that, as he and Linda Ronstadt
sing, is all you need to know.

April 1986. New Orleans.

This is not the New Orleans of the
tourist brochures, of intricate wrought-
iron balconics, sweet alcoholic drinks
hurricane glasses, professionally seedy
strip clubs, Mississippi River steamboats
and brass bands playing When the Saints
Go Marching In.

This is Uptown. And this part of Up-
town is not where out-of-towners go to

play; its where people without a lot of
money live. It’s a funky, dusty, largely black
neighborhood 20 minutes west of the
tourist haunts, past the glitzy debauchery

of the French Quarter and the fading
stateliness of the Garden District. If the
French Quarter is where good times are a

profitable, thr
Uptown is whe:
wher

ng commercial ente)
e the расе is slower and
good times are serious busine
1 because somebody has more mon
than you,” says Cyril Neville, Aaron's
younger brother, defiantly, “doesn't mean
they can party any heartie:
the middle of Uptown, running north
from the Mississippi River, is Valence
Street, Thi ille Brothers home
turf. Around the comer is Tipitina’s, а
long, high-ceilinged night dub named for
a song by legendary pi Profess
Longhair; its the first place the
Brothers ever performed asa band. Closer,
on Valence Street itself, is Benny's Bar, а
ramshackle house where there's no cover
charge, where the audience watches the
band through holes knocked in the walls
and where various Nevilles often perform.
And a few doors down from Benny
Aaron's house. И5 а long, narrow wooden

“Are you folks ready to order?”

А frame, in Southern parlance a “shotgun
shack.” This is the New Orleans version of
a duplex: two doors open off а small front
porch s run from
those doors to the back of the house. Cyril
and his family live in one of those room
Aaron, his wife and at least one of their
Iren live in the other.

The house, one of two Valence Street
dwellings that he and his brothers have
inherited, is modest, and so are the fu
nishings. The walls are cluttered with
paintings, posters paraphernali
most of it religious but some career-orient-
ed. Theres a picture of the Virgin М.
pshot of Neville on stage in the
Sixties there.

Neville goe
some music on thi

to the stereo and puts on
nuggy afternoon. Не
has recorded but th:
never been released. He starts with a
version of the Hoagy Carmichacl standard.
Stardust: There's а single bass guitar,
Neville’s lead vocal and what sounds like
dozens of voices—all his—making up an
ethereal chorus. Is gorgeous. He record-
ed it with bassist Rob Wasscrman, he say
for an album that may bc out soon. He
doesn't know when.

Then he puts on another tape. This one
sion of Franz Schubert's sublime set-
ting of the Ave Maria, The only instru
mentation is a synthesizer imitating a
string section. The song is the voice of
angel singing the song of the angels. But
has never been released, and Neville
doesn't think it will be.

On the wall near his front door, there's a
framed 45-rpm single, a gold record for
Tell It like Н Is. h їзїї an authentic gold
record.

"Some friends of mine took a record,
painted и gold and gave it to me,” he sa
betraying just a touch of hurt. “Never did
get my real gold record:

Neville grew up nearby, surrounded by
songs: His grandmother would rock him
on her knee while listening to spirituals,
his father collected Nat "King" Cole
records, his mother, Amelia, and her
brother, George Landry, had been profes

опа! dancers; and at the movies, Neville
watched the singing cowboys and tried to
yodel the way they did.
And when he put away hi

really turned me on to the sy
lle says of Cooke. “ Cause a lotta other
s would do a lotta screamin’ and hol-
nd Sam would just sing so pure and
pretty, Man, he touched the soul, you
know? Td go see him, and hed just rui
chills through me”
Neville’s eldest broth
doo-wop group: “Either you sang or you
were with one of the gangs,” Art says. "We
were the gang that sang.” Frequently, his
little brother would tag along and sing

Art, formed a

along; by the time Aaron was in junior

high, he was singled out by a high school

teacher who ran several local bands, all of
them dubbed the Avalons.

There was a detour in 1958: Then 17.
Neville served a six-month jail sentence for
stealing a car. In jail, he once said, “There
as nothing to do but sing and fight.” He
preferred 10 sing, using the Nat "King"
Cole song Mona Lisa 10 keep himself sane.
He also wrote a song called Every Day
while behind bars, and when he got out. he
got married and signed a deal with a local
record label

It was a great time for rock and roll
New Orleans. Rock was in its infancy,
drawing much of its drive from the sala-
cious rhythm-and-blues songs that South-
ern blacks had be
only was the Crescent City a rich source for
blues and R&B songs but local musicians
added a rollicking, jazz-derived, horn-
driven spirit that resulted in such hits as
Rockin’ Pneumonia and the Boogie Woogie
Flu, Sea Cruise, Fortune Teller, Mother-in-
Law and Working in a Coal Mine.

But if the records were successful, most
of the musicians were not: The town was
full of great singers and players who lived
atypically (for New Orleans) easygoing life

ment saying you owed ¿hem so much.

“1 got married young,” he adds, “so I
had to take care of family. 1 had jobs like
longshoreman, truck driver, house painter.
You пате it, I done it, and sang on the
weekends, 1 figured we ought to be able to
get a big record ош, but we never really
did—at least that’s what the record compa-
ny told us. Later, Keith Richards told те.
‘I've been listening to you since the early
xties. And | said. “They told me my
records werent gettin’ no further than
Baton Rouge. "

He recorded one song, Tell It like It Is,
that reached number two on the pop
charts and gave Neville the status to play
Harlem's historic Apollo Theater, but be-
cause of a bad cont he didn't nany
royalties. The summer after his hit, he was
unloading ships on the New ОП
docks. He didn't abandon music, pl
а succession of bands with brothers Art,
arles and Cyril

But nothing caught on. During the late
Sixties and early Seventies, Neville record.
ed with noted local producer Allen Tous.
saint, turning in some remarkable vocal
performances that were released only lo.
nest

and paid scant attention to business. One cally, if at all, Once more, one of the
by one, they were exploited by the folks singers in the cou

bel:

who ran the record “You got paid (h.
for the s

Neville. "You could go down

dollars. But other than that.
alties? “No. They'd always give you а state- tration of ha

y was making music
few people heard and doing other
ion, and that was about it,” says things to support hims

“L was working
id get ad- ata club," he says, “and doing longshorc-
vances, а hundred dollars or two hundred man work on the side.”

" No roy Drugs were one way to ignore the frus-
g a remarkable voice that

few people ever heard —but drugs didn't
bring in money; they cost money. There
were times, Neville says, when he was “out
on the streets,” hungry and dead broke:
there were long stretches when he gave up
singing professionally. “I had to take care
of the family,” he says, “but 1 wasn't mak:
ing no money singing. So at times, that's all
I would do: painting houses or working on
boats or driving a truck or something. But
always, Га sing to myself”

In 1976, the four brothers came together
10 back their uncle, George Landry, on an

fectious record called The Wild Tchoupi-
toulas. And shortly afterward, when they
were able to escape their restrictive con-
tracts, the Neville Brothers were formed
"After 0 aron, “I didn't do no
other kinda work, 'cause we were making
enough to make ends meet."

Looking back on the years during which
his music was rarely heard or even re.
leased, Neville swears | 1 bitter—even
though his old songs are now available on
packages for which he receives no тоу:
alties. "As long as I could sing," he says, “1
felt blessed. I figured, Pm rich. And I
figured, one day, everybody will hear it.”

Art Neville, on the other hand, figures
that his brother must have suffered. “Pm
sure he had to be frustrated,” he says. *
was frustrating for me to watch it

And during one conversation with pro-
ducer Joel Dorn, Aaron admitted just how
bad it had been. “We were walking som
c, talking about hard times and

ut,” says А

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scuffling and stuff,” remembers. Dorn.
"And he said that at one time, the only
thing he owned was his walk.”

.
January 1990. New Orlean:

they're building new ranch-style houses
g good deals for those
who've been able to save money despite
southern Louisiana's depressed. oil-hased
economy, is where Neville lives now. His
new home is a good-sized single-story
brick house at the end of a cul-de-sac;
there's a big yard strewn with bicycles and
toys, a two-car garage and a red Broncı
the driveway.

His living room is furnished sparsel
few pieces of bamboo furniture, two cabi-
nets for china and curios and an upright
piano with an open hymnal. The coflee
ble sports a Don't Know Much dictionary
that bears the same picture as the one on
the cover of the Ronstadt album that has
earned him a real gold record.

He scems relaxed today, dropping some
of the guard that had been up during pre-
vious meetings and laughing frequently as
a steady stream of relatives troops through
the room, from his wife and mother-in-law
to his two grandchildren to his 18-year-old
son, Jason, the youngest of his four kid:
(The eldest, Ivan, is also making records.)

As Neville did almost four years cat
he plays tapes. He starts with another un-
released song; the difference between this
onc and the tapes he played in 1986 is that
this song, a version of Leonard Cohen's
Bird on a Wire, cut carlicr in the weck by
the Neville Brothers, will be the title track
to a major Mel Gibson/Goldie Hawn movie
out this summer. Then he plays Stardust
again—but. this is the video to Stardust
which was released to some acdaim in
1988 and will soon be part of a video collec-
tion. The video tape keeps running, and
on the big-screen TV set, Neville sings a
tender but steamy duet with Ronstadt.

"This video started a lotta rumors," he
says with a chuckle, watching as a chorus
ends in an embrace. Не grins; Joel, hi
wife of 31 years, walks by with barely а
glance at the screen. “But Linda and I,
we're just friends."

Don't Know Much, of course, did more
than start rumors of a romance: It also
kicked Neville's career into high gea
more than a duet to tui
It also took, he says, divin

Лоо many years of frustration, too many
years of being cheated had done some-
thing to Neville and his brothers. “Grow-
ing up in the South in the Forties and
Fifu says Charles, two years older than
Aaron, “the prospects were not that bright
for a black person. I guess а lotta people
from our generation got into that ‘Socie
against me, so | may as well be againsı
society” We all had that attitude. We were
all, like, gangsters.” He stops and reconsid-
ers this. “Or thugs."

And for years, that scared away much of

the record industry “Every place 1 went,"
says one insider who tried to stir up inter-
est in the Nevilles, “people said, ‘Hey, 1
ten, I aint messing with these guy
kill me!’ The record industry was full of
people who were afraid of them.”

The reputation for drug abuse and a
threatening, confrontational style hurt
their career. After a lackluster debut al-
bum 1978 anda masterful 1981 release
titled Едо on the Bayou, record la-
bels turned their backs. Only small, inde-
pendent companies were willing to run the
risk of dealing with musicians whose drug
habits made them unreliable; who were for
years managed, in the words of one former
associate, “by a fairly loose aggregation of
people without much business sense”; who,
on more than one occasion, the associate
adds, were caught trying to cheat pro-
moters and agents, as they themselves had
been cheated. “These аге strect-wise,
tough motherfuckers,” Joel Dorn says
flatly. “These aint cats you can walk up to
and say, ‘Hi, fellas, I wanna produce you.
Гт a genius’ and expect them to say, ‘Oh,
please, hurry by our side and save us, white
man. They'd been fucked from here to
the equator and back, and they'd heard
the same story from five hundred guys,
seven hundred ways.”

Darryl Johnson, а local mu
played with the Neville Brother
years, saw the roughest period fi
He was good friends with Nev
Ivan. Aaron today, he says, is "totally the
opposite” from what he saw in the Seven-
ties and early Eighties. Back then, he says,
there were drugs and violence. “I guess
you would say Aaron was a hoodlum. Vi-
cious, kinda. You name it—I mean, real
gangster shit—and he done it.

During the worst times, he still had mu-
sic. "No matter what, boy, he could sing,”
Dorn marvels. “And even in the darkest
times, he always respected his talent. Im
talking about when things were really bad,
even when it looked like he didn't, he knew
what he had. And he held on to it.

Adds Cyril, "Aaron constantly said that
we were put here for a reason, that God
had something He vanted us to do and wc
weren't gonna leave this earth until we did
it. But, speaking for myself, drugs almost
took me out. I can truthfully say Гуе been
dead twice, when we were dealing with the
drugs and the alcohol and everything.
And Aaron can tell you about that, too,
you know?"

Except that Neville doesn't want to tell
you about that. When those days are men-
tioned, his face hardens. “Everybody had
their own individual thing, you know?" he
ike, Гуе dabbled into it. Sometimes
t feel like I wasn't getting my due or
ever I was supposed to be getting,
singing-wise. And there was a time when 1
was separated from my wife. I don't know
where my mind was at the time, because 1
had been married since 1 was, like, seve
teen, and all of a sudden, I was on my

“But I don't talk about it.
g gone, you know?"

During the Eighties, Neville kicked
drugs, as did his brothers. “You gotta get
past the point where you're looking at all
the disappointments and letting that take
you out," says Art. "One disappointment
after another ‚ou ain't really strong,
you ain't praying, if you dont believe in
God, you're gonna be in bad shape."

Things began to improve in ıhe carly
Eighties, when praise from bands such
as the Rolling Stones and tours with
the Stones and Hucy Lewis spread the
Nevilles’ name outside New Orleans. The
clubs got a little bigger, the money a lit-
ue beter and the frustrations а little
smaller—and when legendary rock impre-
sario Bill Graham saw that the Nevilles
were losing their unsavory reputation, hi
company took over their management.
Better gigs followed, as did a deal with
EMI Records—and while the resulting al-
bum was the disappointing Uptown, A&M
Records subsequently became interested
in the band и had signed once before.
When producer Daniel Lanois also cx-
pressed interest in the Nevilles, A&M
signed them and sent them into the studio
with Lanois, It was an ideal match: Lanois,
dedicated to capturing the spirit of the
Nevilles rather than getting them on th
radio, draped his control room with
Spanish moss and drew from them Yellow
Moon, an album that brilliantly summa-
rizes the Neville Brothers’ social concerns
and musical strengths.

“When you meet those guys, they're
kinda spooky, you know?” says Lanois, who
made his name working with the likes of
U2, Peter Gabriel and Robbie Robertson.
“My initial impression was of these quite
heavy characters, and I could hardly un-
derstand anything they said.” He laughs
“But Aarons just a Teddy bear, you know?
Or at least he is now. Ten years ago, it
ight have been something different.”
The change, Neville says. comes from
ion. “1 guess my spirituality brought
me through a lotta. times in life when I
guess the average person might have got
frustrated,” he
tions one particul
difference. “When I was in school,” he
says, "I was fascinated by the Ave Maria. 1
didn't know the words, but the music
so intriguing. It used to, like, cleanse me,
just to be able to sing that. That song, just
bcing in my heart, brought me through
lotta hard times. ng Í could
gave me a lotta inspi

It took some other kinds of prayer, toc
Neville, who recites a lengthy prayer every
morning while he's brushing his teeth and
goes to a Catholic shrine where he wa
up the steps on his knees, has fi
thanked Saint Jude on every one of his al-
bums. Saint |
you, is the patron
did Neville consider himself a lost cause?

“At times" He smiles a bit sadly. “He was
the saint of the impossible, and sometimes

He frown:
That's someth

own!

I needed some impossible things.” He
laughs and finge nt Jude medallion
nging from his left car. and
gs next to a crucifix around hi
*He came through, know?"

As he sits in his living room and talks
about the salvation of his career and his
life, Neville is making plans for a solo al-
bum that Ronstadt will produce after he
hes work on the next Neville Brothers
record. He doesnt know for sure which
songs will be on it. Narrowing songs down
10 just a. handful is especially difficult
Eventually; he wants to record all the songs
he loves. “Pd like to have enough money to
have me a recording studio,” he says,
"where 1 can record anything I want, to be
here for the world. I don't want to die with
anything left in my heart. 1 wanna
to sing it out.”

For now, he knows one song that will
definitely be on the record: the Ave Maria.
ІСІ be similar, he says, to the version that
he played four ycars ago in his old
Street house. This time, though, he'll use a
real string section.

“I'm gonna do that onc at George Lucas
ranch, where Linda did her album,” he
says. “In the big movie studio. You sing in
there, you sound like you're in heaven."

Which, of course, is the proper place for
an angel to sing.

.
Once more, Neville is in Uptown. R>
night, as they do а couple of times a month

whenever they're home, the Neville Broth-
ers are playing Tipitina's, the smoky club
that sits next to a few dilapidated wooden
houses on a corner just across from the
railroad tracks and the Mississippi River.
"The crowd spills out of the club and onto
the sidewalks, cabs drop off a steady
stream of late-comers and a trash can out-
side is soon overflowing with empty cups
left by locals taking advantage of the New
Orleans ordinance that allows you to drink
24 hours a day on the street.

Its not tourist season, the Super Bowl
a couple of weeks away and there arent
any big conventions in town, so this is a
hometown crowd. It's the second night of a
two-night stand and there's an air of ccle-
bration here tonight: The Grammy nomi-
nations were just announced (Dont Know
Much got two, a song from Yellow Moon,
one), he and Ronstadt are getting satura-
rplay, the coach of the New Orleans
ts has come down to see the show and,

according to a rumor that sweeps the club,
here, too.

backstage,
ed by friends and admirers, celebrities and
old pals. While he sometimes seems ill at
ease and guarded in public situ :
tonight he's grinning constantly, working
the small backstage room like a pro. Не
takes Jocl over to say hello to Ronstadt,
huddles with Quint Davis—who heads the

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164

al New Orleans Jazz & Heritage Festi-
id books the Nevilles to close it every
uns to ask Ronstadt if she's fa-
miliar with a Leonard Cohen song some-
one said would be good for his album

ly he and his brothers—intro-
duced as “the heartbeat of the Crescent
he Uptown rulers of the
teenth Ward" —take the stage.
Standing underneath a huge banner of
Professor Longhair, they begin with their
adaptation of the Mardi Gras Indian an-
them Hey Pocky Way and rampage through
1wo sets and three hours of sinuous Big
Easy funk, pausing just long enough for
Neville to sing a few ballads, including Zell
It like Ii Is and Dobie Grays Drift Away.
Mostly, though, he whacks on a ta
bourine or a cowbell as the band er
out an irresistible beat. It's music that takes
the strains of New Orleans mu-
sic—from blues and R&B to Di:
carnival songs and tribal cl
makes of them а gumbo so intoxi
and danceable that by the end of the night,
tiles have been dislodged from the floor of
the balcony.

anni
ЕТЕ
year—then

ње

Then, at 3:30 in the morning, Neville
steps to the microphone. He takes a breath.
Only Art is on stage, standing behind his
keyboards; the rest of the musicians have
dropped back.

And in hushed, cthereal tones, Neville
begins to sing Amazing Grace. Some of the
people in this room have heard him sing it
countless times; others have watched him
с it, “How sweet the sound,” he sings,

At the end of the first verse, the bass
player steps out of the shadows to kick the
band into Bob Marley's One Love, the way
he usually does at this point in the show.
But tonight, Neville stays at the micro-
phone. “Twas faith that brought me safe
this far” he sings, his voice cutting
through the haze and quieting the cr
“And grace shall lead me on.”

is sleepi
borhood bai
dred spine:
of redemption.

"My media advisor doeswt understand me."

QUINCY JONES

(continued from page 66)
Jones Entertainment. Well be developing
new musical talent, making records, pro-
ducing TV shows
саду got a half-hour sitco
home-video show under consider
the networks, and жете plan
the life of the poet Alexander Pushkin—
who was of Ethiopian descent—in a copro-
duction with the Russians. We've also
bought a TV station, and we've got plans to
buy ten or twenty more. 1 mean, this ma
Pittman is out for action. On Friday, he asks
me what I think about a politically orien
ed one-hour television talk show for Jesse
Jackson, and on Monday, we're meeting
with Jesse about it, and we've got a d.
PLAYBOY: What do you think about a
show for Jesse:
JONES: lis a very marketable idea and it’s a
showcase for an important voice who de-
serves a forum for his views. Dve been a
close friend and supporter of Jesse's ever
ке he started Operation PUSH back
the Seventies. Over the years, I think he
has really grown in stature
and even though we c
each other sometimes, | don’ nk theres
any doubt that he's a force for keeping
hope alive. And lets face it, we just dont
have anybody else at this point in our his-
tory. He spans the whole spectrum, from
the streets all the way to the corridors of
power all over the world. There just isnt
anybody else who stands up for us and

what do you think Jesse stands fc
JONES: The same things he has always
stood. for. When Jesse started Operation
PUSH, he and his brain trustcame up with
a slogan, a kind of logo, that still sums up
the challenge black people face in getting
themselves together. He said the compo-
nents that make up a human being can be
expressed in the letters M-A-M-A-P-C-V,
almost like a chemical f
motor skills. A is for affective, which is our
The next M is for morality, and
is for aesthetic. P is for percep-
ion, С for cognition, which is related to
education, and V is for volition. And he
said that many of our Kids in the ghetto
have all those components in abundance
except two, like having
cies. One big problem we

are the two areas he has addressed since
the start of Оре n PUSH: buildi
up the ily unit and building self-e
teem, through education and by crea
economic opportunities that give people
chance in life.

PLAYBOY: There's a widely held perception
that the cause of equality has actually det
ted over the past twenty years, that
the gulf between races has widened. Do
you think that's t

JONES: You'd have го be deaf, dumb, blind
or just plain stupid to deny that we have a
world of problems left to overcome. But
we've got to take the long view. Two cen-
turies of racism arent going to be erased
in twenty years, or probably even fifty.
we've got to keep on keepin on. But I think
we've got plenty of reason to feel good
about what we've managed to accomplish
so far Because we've taken enormous
strides, I think people get a misleading im-
pression of what's really going on, because
negativity is what makes news. They dont
hear about all the folks who are getting
along fine together. They dont see the ev-
eryday progress that's going on all over the
country, North and South. I speak at a lot
з brothers
getting it together
the

and sisters out then
ad doing u
ket. place, building careers, living in
е homes, raising kids who go to good
schools—building their own proud version
of the American dream.
PLAYBOY: That's all true, but we also seem
10 be experiencing a resurgence of racial
violence—eross burnings. letter bombs,
personal assaults. Why now?
JONES: It baffles me and it saddens me, be-
cause 1 sce young people involved in
and it's the younger generation we h;
look to for hope. But some of these nco-
N inhcads are worse than the
bears. In the past, you could chalk up such
incidents to ingrained attitudes pi
down from one generation to the пе
I thought we were starting to move beyond
the Neanderthal period in race relations. 1
don't understand how its possible to hate
yourself so much that you have to hate
omebody else just to feel better. I don
understand how these sick, poisonous
hatreds can be surfacing again alter all
we've gone through and triumphed over.
But the roots of prejudice run deep, and I
guess we're going to have to keep pulling
them up with every generation until we've
stamped it out forever
he drug problem is another bat-
tleground for society today. Do you agree
with President Bush that it's the most ur-
gent crisis we're facing as a nation?
JONES: Well, Um glad he finally decided to
get on the right side of the issue. But Im
not sure he fully understands what he's try-
g to deal with. Because we're not just
talking about a threat to America, We're
talking about an epidemic that has the po-
tential to bring civilization to its knees and,
frankly, | dont know how were going to
«e it through, ‘cause we're going to los
a whole generation of kids to 4

dred dollars a day in front of thirteen-
year-olds to sell dope? Vou can't tempt
them with the promise of a college degree
brothers with master's d

grees carrying bags at the airport or push-
ing fries at the Burger King. And I'm not
alking about. black

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165

like heroin. Smack was a crime until it got
10 Westchester, and then it became a social
problem. Harlem preachers were scream-
ing for help when the foot cops still could
have stopped it in the street, but nobody
gave a damn till the white kids started
mainlining out in the suburbs. Well, it's e
erybody's problem now, and we'd better do
something about it before it's too late-
PLAYBOY: No matter what we do, isn't thi
always going to be a demand for drugs?
JONES: | guess there's always been some
kind of libation you could take to get away
from reality, and 1 guess there always wi
be, because that seems to be a part of hu-
man nature. And reality seems to be get-
ting more complicated all the time. But so
are the drugs. We've got designer drugs
now that are stronger than cocaine or
heroin. They'll take you further,
cheaper than anything we've ever s
lore. For seven or eight dollars, you can
buzz your brain in seventeen seconds. The
trouble is that whatever problems you took
the stuff to get away from are still gonna be
there when you come down, and you'll
have a brand-new problem to deal with on
top of the oncs you've already got—finding
the money to get another hit, and another
one, until you've run out of shit or bread.
Then you've got to steal or deal to keep go-
g until somebody blows you away or you

PLAYBOY

do it to yourself.
PLAYBOY: Is there any way out?

JONES: 1 feel strongly that we've got to le-
galize drugs. The only way we're going to
е is to take

get through this plague a
away the profit motive. El
crime and you eliminate the criminals.
Then you'll be left with the problem of ad-
ion, but I think most of the people
who'd even think about getting high are
already doing it. That's not saying more
people wont start once its legal, but 1 think
you'll also sce a big drop-off as a lot of peo-
ple lose interest, because it’s not clandes-
tine cnough for them anymore
But the Government doesnt want to
ke drugs legal. For a long time, Nancı
Reagan tried to tell kids “Just say no,” but
of course, anybody who was really into
drugs just laughed at her, and the rest we
100 hip to liste inda shit. So now
Bush has decided to declare war on drugs
and thats not gonna make a damn bit of
difference, either, because you НИ one
grower or one dealer, and ten more spring
up to take his place.
egalization won't help those who

might try it if they were legalized. What's
the hope for them?

JONES: On an individual basis, the cu
traight back to the basics. If
and yo

1. You've got to realize you can't do it
alone and surrender yourself to a higher
power, like they say in А.А. Then you've
got to clean yourself out: You've got to sit
down and talk about the people who've

166 wronged you, and the people you've

wronged, and forgive them and forgive
yourself, and start making amends. And
start helping other people straighten out
their lives. And decide how you want to
spend your own. There's a lot of steps on
the road back, and they're heavy steps, but
I've seen it work for hundreds of people I
know, because whatever the program, it's
about the basic ethics of living, about the
essence of what it means to be alive.
PLAYBOY: You said earlier that those are the
themes you're trying to deal with in your
work. Isn't it enough just to provide great
entertainment?
JONES: Not for me. If you want to be a
whole musician, I think you have to be a
whole human being, That's why you've got
to be concerned with whats going on in the
world around you—not only in your work
but outside your profession—and do what-
ever you can do to help fight the deadly
enemies: racism, ignorance, disease,
homelessness and hunger. If you've been
fortunate in life, you're not really straight
until you've done everything you can to see
that everybody else gets at least as good a
shot as you did. Thats why I feel such a
strong obligation to contribute го worth-
while causes, whether it’s cancer or sickle-
cell a or the Africans or the United
Negro College Fund or Operation PUSH
or the A.C.L.U. or the NAACP Legal De-
fense and Educational Fund or the env
ronment or Save the Whales. But it gets to
the point where they're all important and
they're all urgent, so one time, I just saved
sts 1 was receiving and ри
them in a big basket, and at the end of a
week, I added up what it would cost me to
make all the contributions they asked me
for, and it came to about seven hundred
thousand dollars just for that one week. So
1 have to pick and choose the ones that
mean the most to me—and if the rest
of them think I'm cheap or I dont care,
g 1 can do about it, because
' just no way L can deal with all of it
It’s the same with all the requests I get
from people asking me to chair a fund
raiser or set up a show or host a tribute ог
sit on the dais with Mayor Bradley to wel-
come some African diplomat or conduct
the Berlin Symphony or шесі a preacher
who's got some new program for stopping
drugs in the streets. Гуе got to be even
more selective about that kind of obliga-
tion, because what those people want from
me is my time. That's more valuable than
all the money in the world. Its the most
precious commodity we have, and
placeable. 1 realize that most especially
when 1 think about my children. 1 was an
absentee father for a lot of years when they
needed me to be there for them. I'm doing
my best now to make up for all the love we
missed out on together.
PLAYBOY: If you could clone yourself into
three people, what would you assign each
of them to do?
JONES: A few years ago, I'd ha
the chance. Га have had one
dealt exclusively with creative th

jumped at

come up with all the ideas for new projects.
The second man would carry out those
concepts: Hed be the executive producer.
The third man's job would be to have a ball
twenty-four hours a day l'd send h
around to do all the things 1 don't have
enough time for—going places I've never
been, having a great meal, swimming in a
tropical pool, seeing a nice lady, making
the people 1 care about feel good. But 1
guess ГИ have to do the best I can with only
one of me to go around.

PLAYBOY: You seem to be doing a better job
of it now than when you were trying to be
three people.

Yeah, I feel like I'm behind the
n my life now. Pm running it. It's
not running me. Гап letting go and groov-
ing with the current, wherever it takes me.
I had big dreams when I was a little boy
locking out a window in Bremerton. 1 went
after all of them, and most of them have
come true. But the way I went at it, like
there was no tomorrow, almost guaranteed
that I wouldn't be around to enjoy it. But
now that I've stopped pushing, all the
doors in my life have been opening by
themselves. And I'm walking through
those doors to new adventures, places I've
never been, things I've never done.

1 don't know what Гт going to be doing
six months from now and that's just the
way I like it. I just love jumping out and not
knowing where I'm going to land but
knowing I'm going to land on my feet. And
even if I don't someta Iknuw
be all right, because I've had some killer
bumps in my life, and I've learned some-
thing from all of them that makes life even
sweeter for me.

PLAYBOY: Of course, you're secure enough
financially to be able to take such chances.
JONES: Sure | am, and that makes it a lot
easier, But nobody can afford to be afraid
of taking chances in life. И you're afraid to
ко chasing after your dreams, they're go-
ing to shrivel up, and so will you. You've
got to create in your mind an invisible net
underneath you, and jump. IF you expect
pain, that's just what you're going to get.
PLAYBOY: And sometimes even when you
don expect it.

JONES: Of course. No matter what you do,
you're going to po through some suffering.
That goes with the territory. But you doi
have to let suffering become your expe
ence of life, and you don't have to pass it
along to other people just because it hurts
Learn from it. And grow from it. And
teach your pain to sing. I always think
about Ray Charles when I think about the
jov and the pain in Ше. He and I used to
talk about how closely related they are.
How he learned that the heavier the pain.
is, the higher the joy. And nobody knows
that better than Ray Charles. All I can say
is, after living through the pain and sor-
row in my own life, if that's the price I've
had to pay for all the joy l've known, it's
been worth every minute of it, man.

THE WRONG WAR ы»

“As presently marketed, the war on drugs stands to
become а parochially political false crusade.”

electronic intelligence to the exclusion of
the human variety, heavy on quantifiable
data and short on savvy Traditionally,
we've been better at some things than at
other

These worries were not altogether іші
ion,
reading about miscalcula-
tions (one senior official in the Pentagon
called it bungling”). In the end, God took
care of us. The Pineapple Pimpernel was
run to ground to the sausfaction of most of
his people. Our losses were, as they say, ac-
ceptable. Nevertheless, it would seem un-
wise to draw the wrong moral from our

success in Panama.
The egregious phoniness of this war on
drugs doe that thei nothing

to lose. On the one hand, the Administra-
tion carries on the same weary game of
cops and robbers, running down tips,
turning informers, bribing hit men for tes
£ In other words, it tacitly accepts
the hope that the prob-
te sufficient political capital
and then go away Meanwhile, on the
streets, where the real problem is being
lived out, the user the person most in
trouble—has nowhere to turn.

Anyone who talks with drug users
knows how desperately many of them
would like to quit. Ask any street junkie or
crackhead if he knows anything about
where to get help. For the overwhelming
à f use
Even people with money to
spend on therapy have to wait months for
space in programs. This situation is the di-
rect result of the Administration's deliber-
ate refusal to assign realistic priorities.
Does it make sense to talk billions of dol
lars, diplomatic pressures, armies of cops,
aircraft carriers, paratroopers and Cig-
arette boats and make no remotely com-
ble provision for the street junkie who
s to get straight?

This is not, per se, an argument for le-
izing, decriminalizing or Federally reg-
ulating the importation and manufacture
of presently illegal drugs. But it is an in-
stence that no Federally financed band
be permitted, unopposed, to ste
roll inconve ions and deprive the
people of their right to thoughtful counsel
И we elect to deal massively and effectively
with drug use, we are going to have to be-

s, there is no t

gin by taking the issue seriously As
presently marketed, the war on drugs
ids to become а parochially political

false crusade, and its warriors already dis-
play that mixture of naiveté and cynicism
that characterized the war in Vietnam.
What we require instead is deliberate, de-

politicized, depropagandized examinati
of our needs and options in this
Law-enforcement people in a numl
places have alrcady requested such a study:

Lets remember the past and not repeat
it. During the Vietnam war, our Gove
ment promised the people not
tary victory but an absolute solution го our
domestic difficulties. Th 10 be pio-
vided simultaneously, without any refer-
ence to possible со tions. The
results, guaranteed, were 10 be threefold.
We would maintain the tremendous есо-
nomic power that had accrued to us after
World War Tivo. We would win the war on
poverty, which was what Lyndon Johnson's
Administration called its social program.
At the same time, in Vietnam, we would
prev

ything declared desirable was to be
available at once. There was to be no re
soning of need, no economy of objectives
whatsoever, It was not to be admitted thi
any of these results might be obtainable
only in part and at (he relative expense of
others. It was as though no one in the en-
tire country had ever heard of the Aesop
fable of the dog and the bone. Remember
it? A dog with a bone in its mouth goes to
the river, sees its own reflection in the wa-
ter, thinks, There's a nice bone. ГИ ta
that one, too. Guess what happens?

Maybe we should remind ourselves now,
s fortunate hour, that none of John-
were achieved. Our relative

wealth began to decline during his Admin-
istration for reasons directly conr
the war: The results of our war on poverty
can be scen today in the streets of any
ghetto. In Vietnam, the war was lost.
There is a Rolling Stones song titled You
Can't Always Get What You Want. One of its
refrains goes, “But il you try sometime,
you just might find, you get what you
need.” The: pre horse sense in that
lile dite 90 percent of the offi-
cial utterances regarding drugs. Maybe it
should be incorporated lective
wisdom. Of course, it may be argued that
the song emanates vaguely from the direc-
tion of the drug culture. But why should
od tunes
in our unlimited

have missed the point of the past year's
events entire!

of triumphali
our late in the Kremlin ended
as the rea aries of what happened
at last year's end, Whose days are num-
bered—those who are capable of correctly
determining history's direction or those
who allow good fortune to reinforce their
complacency and their illusions?

In the s of 1990, we Americ
w л the lords of creation, any more
than the Soviets or the great powers of the
past were. Neither our resources nor out
will is limitless. The sky overhead is as nar-
tow for us as for any people and the spa
of history as wide. We will make our fu
out of who we are and we shall have to take
the world as it is. Nothing is free, not eve
for America. It is as true of the drug prob-
lem as of everythi

"Maxine, I think you should try to become more
involved in our sex life."

167

Toy wonder Francis Goldwyn
has a new idea that's
150 million years old. He also prefers

Christian Brothers Brandy.

- |

Founder, The Manhattan Toy Co., Ltd --

Prehistoric and modern toys.
Last years sales: $5,000,000.

Christian Brothers.

When you know better.

ON: THE

“SCENE

IT’S IN THE BAG

ith golf enjoying such a renaissance, we're
pleased that manufacturers have kept an inno-
vative eye on the one accessory that every

player (or his caddie) totes—the golf bag. Syn-
thetic fabrics such as nylon have helped lighten the load, but
many golfers still opt for status bags that are all or part leather.

STEVE CONWAY

Above: This tourna-
ment-styled Series
901 golf bag that’s
made of vinyl and
leather features
double-entry — full-
length clothing
pockets and three
ball pockets, plus a
three-point harness
suspension for easy
carrying, heavy-duty
hardware and four
club covers, by Mac-
Gregor Golf, $300.

Right: A handsome
Burberrys golf bag
made ofleather and
canvas, from Bur-
berrys, Chicago,
$445; and a vinyl
Tommy Armour Sig-
nature bag, from
Tommy Armour
Golf, Morton Grove,
Illinois, $190. (In the
bag are Tommy Ar-

Silver Scot
metal woods, $432,
and irons, 5700.)

mour

Hot shopping tip: Before buying, look inside the bag fora lin-
ing made of fleece, felt or wool. The last thing you need is a
Ping iron dinged because the bag failed to cradle it properly.
Ample pockets are also important; some bags even have
space fora change of clothes (also a case foran umbrella), just
in case the clubhouse is fresh out of lockers, Play through!

Left: Yamaha has come up with a
line of jazzy-looking Secret Series
fleece-lined golf bags made of
nylon that are available in a variety
of bright color combinations, in-
cluding hot pink and black (shown),
from Yamaha Sports, $114. (Golf
cart, by Bag Boy, Milwaukie, Ore-
gon. Ultra woods and irons, by
Wilson Sporting Goods Company.)

169

Hot Fun in the Sun
This is not merely another SEDUCTION on the
beach. With Nothing Matters Without Love, these
girls have crossed over from the dance to pop
charts. The sexy trio plans to try its hand at writing
and producing next time out, mixing rap, R&B, pop
and ballads into an alluring musical brew. We'll be
checking out their tan lines while we wait.

Actress LISAAXELROD has appearedin the movies

Road Ноизе апа The Metal Years, on MTV and in

videos. ha shown up in Harley-Davidson

talogs а! И be in the 1991 Easyriders calen-

f. For us, Lisa hit the beach in a salute to summer,
We're excited. How about you?

No
Deletion
Necessary
The two Brits in ERASURE found each other
musically in 1985, but it took until 1990 for
America to find them. Wild! hit the charts and
their concerts made converts. Catch their
act this summer and don't erase anything.

No More Lisa
Bonet Jokes
Musician/song-
writer LENNY
KRAVITZ’ ІР,
Let Love Rule,
has finally
focused at-
tention on
his music
and он
his mar-
riage.
Amen!

PAUL NATKIN / PHOTO RESERVE INC.

Temporary
Arrhythmia

DAVE
STEWART and
ANNIE LEN-
NOX won't pro-
duce another
Eurythmics
album until
1991, but Dave’s
working on a
solo LP due out
later this year.

Kid
and
His
Nuts
KID CREOLE
AND THE CO-
CONUTS' single
The Sex of It
was penned by
Prince, which
may just be
their ticket into
the mainstream.

e NICK CHARLES

Net Worthy

Movie starlet ANDREA HENRY was on the big screen
in Puppet Master, which you can now rent at your
video store. We don't want you to think Andrea's

lying around waiting for her career to take off.
She's doing it in Grapevine because she
knows you'll love it.

POTPOURRI

LONDON BODIES w
FALLING DOWN M 2

As you may have guessed, Martin Fido's Murder
don, published by Academy Chicago
nurder to read. All of Blighty’s bad-
, from Burke and Hare, Di
night stalker Jack the
ts оооу

who battered a hotel gue
Best of all, Murder Guide's
your wallet: just $14.
Institute Place, Chicago 60601. Bloody good.

OUTDOOR FURNITURE LIGHTENS UP

According to mpson, who designs and manufactures
Kaldari outdoor fur A пи
Greek words that ad if you can и
eyes off the enduring beauty who's basking above, we think you'll
11 to know that Simpsons furniture has some very unusual

es. Although the pieces look like stone, they're actually made
ich as the chaise longue shown. will
id all are м

and won't de
from $600 f,
not included.) For

ОРСҮС U
Зан Dr Sho, The Big Book of Harley-
S ЧЧЕМ АЈ L? ЕТТУ

же most six pounds, and il
you're man enough to tote
this coflee-table-sized,
462-page edition home
from (he bookstore, you
probably can handle the
wildest wheels Harley has

ue
ide table to $3000 for
more info, call Ka

HAVE A CALIFORNIA BALL

“The ball from the future” is how Winter Design,

BIG WHEELS

smooth-ski
spirals like

ulpted polyurethar
Joe Montana pass when tossed
even looks great just sitting on а table. The Zwirl
is ble in two colors, hig! black or bright
yellow, weighs about a half pound and costs only
$14.95, postpaid. Pick one up and give it a fing!

10 offer. Harley-Davidson
employee Thomas С.
Bolfert wrote The Big
Book, collecting in the
2000.
i

process more th:
photographs that chro
cle the company’s history,
which spans almost nine
decades. The soficover
Big Book is available at
bookstores or at Harley-
Davidson dealers for
$39.95, Well-heeled
Harley fans, however, may
wish to pick up the num-
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(1500) version that’s
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HARLEY-DAVIDSON

172

FIVE STARS, TEXAS STYLE

Mobil Travel Guides has bestowed just 3
Five-Star Awards in 1990 to the 21,000
hotels, inns, motels, resorts and restau

dude The Mansion on Turtle Cree

Dallas (pictured below) and Jean Lo
French restaurant in Washi
However, И you

100 many stars, Mobil also publishes Lodg-

ings for Less, which lists good-

Two- and Three:

its pi qi

MORGANNA'S HOT NUTS

the official pork-
"silent Bush, has intro-

ssing Bandit roasted peanuts.

And everybody knows who the Kissing
Morganna Roberts. of course,
39 statistics and penchant for
isses on major-league
are legendary. Morgannas nuts
ble in stores and ball parks for
69 cents a bag. A case (48 bags) costs $3
sent to Carolina Fine Snacks,
се Drive, Greensboro, North

rolina 27407. Get crackin"!

LET THE SUN SHINE IN

You say your girlfriend would
like to acquire an all-over tan
but doesnt want the hassles of
going nude at the beach or by
hen check out Solar
Tanning Suits, one- or two-piece
women’ bathing suits in sizes 5/6
through 13/14 that are opaque
wet or dry. The suits allow some
penetration of UV rays yet

provide protection equivalent to
wearing an 5.РЕ 10 lotion. To
place a credit-card order with
Swimsuit International, whi
handles Solar Tanning Suits, call
800-458-9640. The price for this
etch be
$59, plus postage.
hey sell tan-

ts for men, too.

In the Seventies, the water bed was the hot
room. ‘Today, it’s Select Comfort Sleep Syste
tresses that feature single or dual (an option on double, queen
king sizes) air chambers, a small clectronic air pump, hand con-
trols, foam side walls and a mattress cover.
can be inflated or deflated to desired firmness at the touch of a
button. Prices range from $400 to $800. For a dealer, call Select in
Minncapolis at 800-535-2337. Just don't fall asleep on the button.

THE SEY'S THE LIMIT

Back in May 1985, Porpourri
featured The World Unfolds, ki-
netic city guides that open and
fold with one hand. VanDam,
Inc., in Manhi has recently
introduced The Cosmos Un-
folds, a series of six EcoGuides
that take a nonlinear, intei
disciplinary, extradimensional
pproach to such d
jects as The Univ
Forest, Oceans and Deserts The
Universe is a portable guide to
the seasonal sky. The Rain Forest
melds stories of indigeno
forest peoples with scie
for EcoGuides in museum gift
shops and bookstores or phone
800-321-MA PSandorderindi
ual ones for $12 each, postpai

174

NEXT MONTH

BAYWATCHABLE BABE

“SOFTBALL HAS BEEN BERY, BERY GOOD ТО МЕ"--
FORTY MILLION AMERICANS CAN'T BE WRONG.
PLAYBOY CHRONICLES THE NATIONS TRUE PASTIME
AS WE SHOW YOU HOW TO KNOCK ONE INTO THE
PARKING LOT AND, MOST IMPORTANTLY, HOW TO PLAY
BALL WITH WOMEN—BY THE AUTHOR OF THE DICK-
SON BASEBALL DICTIONARY, PAUL DICKSON

“THERE /S A GOD”—THE RISE AND WELCOME FALL
OF CHARLES KEATING, JIMMY SWAGGART, ED
MEESE AND OTHER GREAT HYPOCRITES OF THE
EIGHTIES—BY JOE DOMANICK

A VERY FRIENDLY VISIT TO OUR NEIGHBOR TO THE
NORTH FOR A PLAYBOY PICTORIAL FEATURING THOSE
NATURAL TREASURES, THE “WOMEN OF CANADA”

LARRY KING TALKS ABOUT FRANK SINATRA AND
ASKS SOME HYPOTHETICAL QUESTIONS OF THE REA-
GANS AND BARBARA WALTERS IN A PLAYBOY INTER-
VIEW THAT CONFIRMS WHY THE DEAN OF ОВА. 15
AMERICA'S SECOND-BEST REASON TO STAY UF LATE

“BODY”—WHEN EARLINE TURNIPSEED AND BILLY BAT
MEET AT A COSMOS BODYBUILDERS CONTEST, IT'S
LUST AT FIRST SIGHT—A PREVIEW OF THE NEW NOVEL
BY HARRY CREWS

"JERRY SEINFELD'S BLAND AMBITION”—HANGING
OUT WITH AMERICA'S SLOWEST FAST-RISING COMIC
AS HE MAKES THE LEAP FROM HOKUM TO HIPNESS—
BY STEPHEN RANDALL

“THE WOUND”—A FIRSTHAND ACCOUNT OF THE BRU-
TAL TOLL GEORGE BUSH'S DRUG WAR HAS WROUGHT
ON COLOMBIA—BY JONATHAN SILVERS

“BAYWATCHABLE BABE"—JULY 1989 PLAYMATE ERI-
KA ELENIAK COMES UP FOR AIR FROM HER NEW
SERIES TO MAKE A PLAYBOY SPLASH

“IN THE RAT'S NEST”—MEET THE AUTOCRAT OF AS-
TROTURF. ST. LOUIS CARDINALS MANAGER WHITEY
HERZOG, A.K.A. WHITE RAT, IS THE GUY TO WATCH
THIS OR ANY SEASON—BY THOMAS BOSWELL

DANA CARVEY PITS THE CHURCH LADY AGAINST THE
LIAR IN A NOT-SO-FRIENDLY GAME OF POOL, RE-
VEALS THE BACKSTAGE SINS OF SATURDAY NIGHT LIVE
AND TELLS US WHAT IT'S LIKE TO BE AMERICA'S TOP
DRAGMEISTER IN A SPECIAL “20 QUESTIONS”

PLUS: THIS SUMMER'S FASHION SENSATION: “DICK
TRACY CLOTHES"; WHY, IN TV SETS, “BIGGER IS BET-
TER”; AND MUCH MORE

1976.

You always come back to the basics. ¡Bt

TOR OFT OEVER њезине CAL 1-8004 0473 "DCEFT WHERE МОНЕТЕ MAIOR CRED AJOS исто.
SLAG VERANO SDN RE NSD Rae а ar. ҚА Ер На WRES DO WATE RANS NY 10608 190

Stoli. For the purist. _

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