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LESLIE NIELSEN BRUCE WILLIS 
UNTAMED 


THE PLAYBOY 
INTERVIEW 


MICHAEL 
JACKSON 


COURTNEY 
LOVE 


PLUS: 
CHINA 
MAVERICK 
HARRY WU 


02 


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PLAYBILL 


rs TOUGH living in the public eye. Ever since TV's Moonlight- 
ing and the blockblaster Die Hard, Bruce Willis has hyped his 
image as a blue-collar guy who made it big, whether spicing 
up Republican rallies or tooting the harmonica at Planet Hol- 
lywood, Fact is, he's one of Hollywood's savviest actors, with a 
strong will and even stronger opinions. In this month's Inter- 
view with David Sheff, he has an uncensored conversation about 
poverty and crime, the hidden pressures on his marriage with 
Demi Moore and his own on-screen violence and nudity. So 
what's Love got to do with it? Well, when the spotlight swings 
onto Courtney Love, she takes a swing at it—or flashes her tit 

Neal Karlen knew her before all that, and his profile Love Hurts 
presents snapshots of the merrily raunchy widow before, with 
and after Kurt Cobain. (Get ready to duck, Neal.) Then take 
Michoel Jackson. First there was the skin thing and the rhino- 
plasty and sleepovers with kids. Then he got hitched to Lisa 
Marie Presley and HIStory tanked. Luckily, his PR guys 
weren't asleep at the switch. In his article—uh, satirical arti- 
cle—humorist Joe Queenan got a peek at their top-secret Memo 
to Michael Jackson. For her portrait of the oddest as a young 
man, Jonet Woolley looked for Jacko's soul—and found Elvis. 

Queenan suggests, among other ideas, that Jackson com- 
plete his image makeover with a sex change. The Gloved One 
might warm up with a vasectomy—Texas writer Turk Pipkin did 
and writes about making the cut in Great Balls of Fire. I's a hi- 
larious look at a painful decision as Pipkin and a pal, Harry An- 
derson of TV's Dave's World, romp through preop and postop. 
Their doctor's name? Richard Chopp. True. 

Writer Pot Jordan admits he runs in strange circles. So when 
a soldier of fortune known in Cuba as Big Fucking Gringo 
told him about ex-Delta Force operatives who rescue kid- 
napped American children overseas, Jordan checked it out. 
His article, Rescue Impossible, is a hair-raising diary of Icelandic 
prisons, rabbi commandos in Peru and a speedboat chase out 
of Tunisia. With less muscle but higher stakes, Harry Wu has 
taken on Chinz's tyrants over human rights. Wu drew global 
attention when he returned to his homeland and was de- 
tained for secretly videotaping conditions at work camps. “Of 
all the people I've interviewed, including Yasir Arafat,” says 
Morgan Strong, who conducted this riveting 20 Questions, “Wu 
was the most intimidating because he is such a decent guy.” 

Life on the ledge: Mountaineer Mark Jenkins has faced dan- 
ger on Mount Everest and in Siberia and Tombouctou. Then 
he discovered the new extreme sport of canyoneering in his 
own backyard and lived through one of his toughest chal- 
lenges. His tale of the adventure, Black Water, Deep Canyon (Guy 
Billout did the art), is a tribute of sorts to his canyon compan- 
ion Mike Moe, who recently died near Baffin Island when a 
bowhead whale tipped his boat. In our fiction this month, an 
excerpt from Death in the Andes (Farrar, Straus & Giroux), lit- 
erary superstar Mario Vargas Llosa takes us to the mountains for 
an encounter with bloodthirsty guerrillas. Jose Luis Cuevas, who 
has his own museum in Mexico City, did the artwork. Ameri- 
can playwright and novelist Devid Mamet has a different kind 
of adventure—in a boule. Mamet went to Scotland, partici- 
pated in tastings and came back buzzing. Read Scotch. 

Nudity is one way to boost a Leslie Nielsen rating. Don't miss 
Naked Nielsen, a sexy pictorial shot by Morio Cosilli that spoofs 
such classics as The King and I and Rear Window. For a classic 
„try Kona—not the coffee, but surfer Kona Cer- 
's our Playmate of the Month from Oahu. If that's 
not enough, consider Raye Hollitt, known on American Gladia- 
tors as Zap. Everybody cry uncle! 


Б | 


WOOLLEY PIPKIN 


QUEENAN 


ZS 


JENKINS BILLOUT 


MAMET 


1478). February 1996, volume 43, number 2. Published monthly by Playboy in national and regional editions, 
«e Shore Drive, Chicago, Illinois 60611. Second-class postage paid at Chicago, Illinois and at additional mailing 


offices. Canada Post Canadian Publications Mail Sales Product Agreement No. 56162. Subscriptions: in the U.S., $29.97 for 12 issues. 


= Send address change to Playboy, PO. Box 2007, Harlan, lowa 51537-4007. E-mail 


@playboy.com. 


PLAYBOY 


Clockwise from юр le, that's Jack Daniel, Jess Mollow, Lem Tolley, Frank Bobo and Jess Gamble. (Jimmy's in the middle). 


JACK DANIEL'S HEAD DISTILLER, Jimmy Bedford, has lots of folks 


looking over his shoulder. 


Since 1866, we've had only six head distillers. (Every one a Tennessee 
boy, starting with Mr. Jack Daniel himself.) Like those before him, 
Jimmy's mindful of our traditions, such as the oldtime way we 
smooth our whiskey through 10 feet of hard maple charcoal. He 
knows Jack Daniel’s drinkers will judge him wich every sip. So 
he's not about to change a thing. The five gentlemen on his wall 
surely must be pleased about that. 


SMOOTH SIPPIN' 
TENNESSEE WEISKEY 


Tennessee Whiskey = 40-43% alcohol by volume (80-86 proof) = Distilled and Bottled by 
Jack Daniel Disilley. Len ¡Motos ‚Коюн Route. 1. Lynchburg (Pop 361), Tennessee 37352 
{ nal Register of Historic Places by the United States Government 


PLAYBOY 


vol. 43, no. 2—february 1996 CONTENTS FOR THE MEN'S ENTERTAINMENT MAGAZINE 
[i corras Se 3 
DEAR PLAYBOY ath 9 
PLAYBOY AFTER HOURS... 
MOVIES ..... 


VIDEO . 
MUSIC .. 
TRAVEL . 
WIRED 


BOOKS «+... DIGBY DIEHL 
MEN 2 -. - -ASA BABER 
WOMEN.. ‚ CYNTHIA HEIMEL 


THE PLAYBOY ADVISOR PT A 
THE PLAYBOY FORUM ........................... арала кадед END 
REPORTER'S МОТЕВООК—оріпіот............................РОВЕВТ SCHEER 
PLAYBOY INTERVIEW: BRUCE WILLIS—candid conversation .... Laie tags 
MEMO TO MICHAEL JACKSON—humor ........ eee JOE QUEENAN 
ZAP—pictorial...... "t 
DEATH IN THE ANDES—fiction . 
CIBER FASHION—fashion . 

GREAT BALLS OF FlRE—article..... “ 

PLAYBOY GALLERY: CAMERON DIAZ............... n 
BLACK WATER, DEEP CANYON—article .............. AEREOS MARK JENKINS 
ALOHA, KONA—playboy's playmate of the month 
PARTY JOKES—humor ......................... e... se he 
RESCUE IMPOSSIBLE—article > ee dye — PAT JORDAN 


«+. MARIO VARGAS LLOSA 
++ HOLLIS WAYNE 
+ TURK PIPKIN 


RAPID TRANSIT—cars............ Sepe sis casa KEN GROSS 
LOVE HURTS—playboy profile. . - . NEAL KARLEN 


SCOTCH—drink . viser «eas rines reia DAVID MANET 
SIT ON THIS—modern living .. . 

NAKED NIELSEN—pictorial....... 

20 QUESTIONS: HARRY МИ... 
WHERE & HOW TO BUY... 

PLAYBOY ON THE SCENE 


COVER STORY 
Actress Sondro Toylor (left), Ploymote Traci Adell (right) and model Catherine 
Show (bottom) ore gunning for Leslie Nielsen, who envisioned film classics — 
whot else2—noked. Our cover was produced by West Coast Photo Editor 
Morilyn Grobowski. Danny Fine did Leslie’s hair and Robert Ryon did his 
mokeup. Lone Coyle Dunn styled the cover, while Alexis Vogel ond Michelle 
von der Hule did the women's hair and mokeup. Our Rabbit is always ‘op gun. 


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PLAYBOY 


HUGH M. HEF 
edito 


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


KEVIN BUCKLEY executive editor 


JOHN REZER assistant managing editor 
EDITORIAL 

ARTICLES: STEPHEN RANDAL. editor; FICTION: 
ALICE к. TURNER editor; FORUM: JAMES к. PE 
TERSEN senior staff writer; chir ROWE assistant 
editor; MODERN LIVING: pavip stevens edi- 
lor; BETH томкач associate editor; STA! 
KLUGER CHRISTOPHER NAPOLITANO. BARBARA NEL 
Lis associate editors; FASHION: HOLLIS WAYNE 
director; JENNIFER RYAN JONES assistant editor; 
CARTOONS: MICHELLE URRY edilor; COPY: 
LEOPOLD FROEHLICH editor; ARLAN BUSHMAN 
assistant editor; ANNE SHERMAN сору associalez 
CAROLYN BROWNE, REMA SMITH senior researchers: 
LEE BRAUER. SARI WILSON researchers; CON- 
TRIBUTING EDITORS: ASA BABER, KEVIN COOK. 
GRETCHEN EDGREN, LAWRENCE GROBEL, KEN GROSS 
wautomolive), CYNTHIA HEIMEL, WILLIAM HEL- 
MER, WARREN KALBACKER. D. KEITH MANO. JOE 
MORGENSTERN, REG HOTTERTON. DAVID RENSIN 
DAVID SHEFF, DAVID STANDISH, MORGAN STRONG 
BRUCE WILLIAMSON (movies) 


х MRUCE 


АКТ 
KERIG POPE managing director; BRUCE HANSEN 
CHET SUSKI, LEN WILLIS senior directors; KRISTIN 
KaRyeren associate 


rector; ANS semt. supervi- 


sor, keyline/pasteup; vavi. cuan art assistant 


PHOTOGRAPHY 

MARILYN GRABOWSKI west coast editor; JIM LAR- 
SON, MICHAEL ANN SULLIVAN Senior editors; PATTY 
BEAUDET associate editor; skr 
BETH MULLINS assistant editors; DAVID CH: 
RICHARD FEGLEY. ARNY FREVTAG, RICHA 
DAVID МЕСЕ, BYRON NEWMAN, POMPEO POSAR 
STEPHEN WAYbA contributing Photographers 
SHELLEE WELLS stylist; TIM HAWKINS manager, 
photo archive 


E BARNETT 


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PRODUCTION 
MARIA MANDIS director; RITA JOHNSON manager; 
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READER SERVICE 


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PLAYBOY ENTERPRISES, INC. 
CHRISTIE HEFNER chairman, chief executive officer 


i 


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1996 Playboy 


A SIZZLING WARM-UP TO SUPER BOWL XXX 


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DEAR PLAYBOY 


x 


680 NORTH LAKE SHORE DRIVE 
CHICAGO, ILLINOIS 60611 
FAX 312-649-0534 
E-MAIL DEARPB@PLAYBOYCOM 
PLEASE INCLUDE YOUR DAYTIME PHONE NUMBER 


HARVEY KEITEL 


Thank you for probing the mind of 


one of the great actors of the century. As 
he has proven in his masterful perfor- 
mances in Reservoir Dogs and Smoke, Har- 
vey Keitel (Playboy Interview, November) 
only gets better with time. 
Andrew Golding 
Ann Arbor, Michigan 


Whether he plays a lead role in Smoke 
or a small one in Sister Act, Harvey Keitel 
has a commanding presence on-screen. 
Someday, there will be an Oscar with his 
name оп it. 

Jim Langton 
Danbury, Connecticut 


Films that evoke the human spiritand 
educate, such as Lawrence of Arabia, To 
Kill a Mockingbird and Schindler's List, in- 
spire the most. To me those are master- 
pieces. The Piano? No way. 

K.L. Berkshire 
Encino, California 


GORDON LIDDY 
Thank you for choosing a journalist 
with persistence to kcep after the G-man 
for an interview (20 Questions, Novem- 
ber). I'm a 20-something conservative 
who finds C. Gordon Liddy a unique 
role model. 
Steve Zasueta 
stevezas@aol.com 
Fairfield, California 


Great Gordon Liddy 20 Questions. His 
lighthearted answers revealed a little- 
known facet of Liddy's personality: a de- 
licious sense of humor. Love him or hatc 
him, there's no denying that Liddy is 
one hell of a man. 

Darlene Colomy 
San Francisco, California 


Some years ago, I met Liddy in Toron- 
to during a book tour. 1 always respected 
him because he was a good soldier who 
did what he believed to be right. Later, at 


the conclusion of the Watergate hear- 
ings, he displayed an abundance of in- 
ternal fortitude. He took his jail time. 
That makes him a stand-up guy. 
Walter Blunt 
‘Toronto, Ontario 


If Nixon resigned in 1974 and Star 
Wars came out in 1977, how come Liddy 
is known as “the Darth Vader of the 
Nixon administration”? 

Carlo Panno 
Reseda, California 


REPORTER’S NOTEBOOK 
Robert Scheer deserves a Pulitzer for 
his November Reporter's Notebook (“The 
Fed Fall Guys”) on the foolishness of 
blaming government for everything. | 
recently said to a friend online, “Sure we 
have freedom of speech to criticize the 
government, but imagine what would 
happen if someone supported the gov- 
ernment?” There was no reply. Scheer’s 
comments arc long overdue. 
David Devore 
walt@clubhouse.email.com 
Austin, Texas 


Scheer hit the mark when he said that 
the federal government has suddenly 
become the fall guy for everything 
wrong in our lives. The citizens who 
complain the most are the wealthiest. 
I've never understood the reason for 
cutting major programs that benefit the 
poor in order to provide tax cuts for the 
wealthy. Most rich people will never live 
long enough to enjoy all the money 
they have. 

B. McLain 
Yakima, Washington 


Scheer contradicts himself when he 
says the real problems facing Americans 
have nothing to do with Washington, 
D.C. He attacks the Beltway politicians 
who do not enjoy his favor or whose pro- 
paganda he does not propagate. While 
I have never read Scheer before, 1 


ns aya, таваллу зе VOLUME PUDEN 2 PURO VONTAY BY PLAYBOY. ero HORT LAKE SORE ORE 


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conclude from this strident piece that he 
is a writer who knows everything about 
the party line and nothing about liberty. 
“Ted Kraft 
Cape Coral, Florida 


Scheer makes a lot of valid points in 
“The Fed Fall Guys.” I do not identify 
with Timothy MeVeigh, but with onc 
year of college, I can't make it on 
$20,000 per year at age 34. And Bob 
Dole wants to take away the only luxury 
I have: my $3 X-rated rental 

Christopher Kent 
Bethesda, Maryland 


PLAYROT 


Scheer needs to realize the feds are a 
good deal more than just fall guys. They 
are accomplices in the making of bad 
government. One need only mention 
a program and the words inefficient, 
wasteful and corrupt immediately come 
to mind. Americans are angry with the 
government because it has become obvi- 
ous that we pay far 100 much for its 
services. Let's hope we can find the po- 
litical will to destroy programs the gov- 
ernment thinks are beneficial. 

David Carl Argall 
La Puente, California 


HOLLY WITT 
November Playmate Holly Witt (Hel- 
lo, Holly) is the pinnacle of perfection. 
In fact, there's no reason to continue 
searching for a Playmate of the Year. 
Bruce Eylmann 
Millwood, New York 


DAVID DUCHOVNY 
The X-Factor Actor article (November) 
by Jack Hitt is as much fun as The X-Files 
series. I especially love Ed Paschke's 
painting of Duchovny covered in an 
cerie green and red ünt. 
Ruth Morgan 
Elizabethton, Tennessee 


AFTER HOURS 
I found the etiquette lesson posted in 
women's rooms at Cosmopolitan (Playboy 
Afler Hours, November) very amusing. 1 
wonder if Cosmo also needs an etiquette 
list for plumbers. “Funny plastic ob- 
jects,” indeed. 
Lisa Cassera 
Manchester, New Hampshire 
TONY TAHNEE 
1 didn't think it was possible to top 
your Lisa Boyle cover, but you've out- 
done yourselves with November's. 1 
would love to die and come back as a 
pair of fuzzy pink mittens on Tahnee 
Welch's hands. 
Robert Fisher 
Hamilton, Ontario 


I've liked Tahnee Welch since Cocoon, 
so I was glad to see her on your cover 
and in a pictorial (Totally Tahnee). But I 

10 have to wonder why PLAYBOY thinks it's 


sexy to show a woman smoking. C'mon 
guys, the shots can be ssssssmokin' with- 
out the subject doing the same. 

Ken Meyer Jr. 

San Diego, California 


Tahnee's bare-bottom pose on the rug 
is something to behold. 
Perry von Reich 
Nanuet, New York 


It must be the genes. Tahnee Welch is 
a fine successor to her mother's legacy. 
Harold Dunn 
Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania 


Tm glad you found the daughter of a 
famous parent, who is not only a beauty 
but is also my age, to do a photo spread. 
The older daughters look good for their 
ages. Tahnee looks good for the ages. 

Karl Morgan 
Indianapolis, Indiana 


My only disappointment is that Ms. 
Cocoon didn't take her skin off. 
Paul Kasky 
Boulder, Colorado 


Your description of Tahnee Welch as 
adorable is not adequate. Please add ex- 
otic, erotic, intriguing, strong and smart. 

Dick Sanders 
Joshua Tree, California 


In Tahnee's beautiful face, you can 
definitely see the resemblance to her 
mother. I hope to see her at my neigh- 
borhood theater soon. 


REAL COPS 

It's hard for me to understand why 
people would bother to read fict 
about cops when they can read Stone- 
Cold Cases (November) by Bob Drury in- 
stead. For every Mark Fuhrman, there's 
more than one guy like Mike Palladino 


who keeps going when everyone else has 
quit. I salute him. 
Roger Johnson 
Boston, Massachusetts 


SEX, HOME & VIDEOTAPE 
All 1 can say about Dean Kuipers’ 

piece (Sex, Home & Videotape, November) 
is that it saves the embarrassment of go- 
ing to the video store and asking a per- 
fect stranger for help. 

Jane Lang 

Los Angeles, California 


My husband and I made a sex tape 
and it entertained us. But now we have 
to figure out where to keep it. I have this 
terrible feeling my parents will come 
over and my husband will accidentally 
shove the wrong tape in the VCR. 

Mary Barnes 
San Jose, California 


My wife and I enjoyed Kuipers’ arti- 
cle. In it, he mentions a distributor of 
amateur videos, Video Alternatives. Can 
you give us the address? 

Brian Davis 
San Diego, California 

Sure: 2317 Markoe Avenue, Wentzville, 

Missouri 63385. 


My girlfriend and I took Kuipers' ad- 
vice. We had a lot of fun, but we also had 
a lot of laughs. For some reason this was 
a funnier experience than it was erotic. 

Jack Martin 
Providence, Rhode Island 


SEX IN CINEMA 
The only serious sex in cinema last 

year was in The Last Seduction (Sex in Cin- 
ema 1995, November). If Linda Fiorenti- 
no didn't turn you on and terrify you, 
I'll eat your celluloid 

Ron Randall 

New York, New York 


LIFESAVERS 

I'm writing to thank PLAYBOY and the 
Hawaiian Tropic girls for saving my life 
and the lives of my two friends, Kevin 
and Bart. We work as subcontractors for 
a major oil company just outside Cody, 
Wyoming. One morning we were asked 
to carry out maintenance on a pumping 
unit. We were about to leave when Bart 
came in with his copy of pravsoy, Kevin 
and I admired the Girls of Hawaiian Trop- 
ic pictorial (April) and then got to work. 
As we pulled up to the location, the 
pumping unit crashed to the ground 15 
feet in front of our truck. There was no 
way we would have survived had we ar- 
id five seconds earlier. Had it not 
been for the Haw ic beauties, 
we would not be a 


Cody, Wyoming 


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PLAYBOY AFTER HOURS 


MODEL CITIZEN 


It appears the call to public service 
runs in the genes. Hunter Reno is a 
spokesmodel for L'Oréal Hair Care. She 
is also Attorney General Janet Reno's 
niece. That may explain why she does 
volunteer work with the civic-minded 
organization pisHEs—Determined In- 
volved Supermodels Helping to End 
Suffering. We did not male this up. 


TERRIER PERRIER 


If you drink designer water but your 
pet drinks from the tap. Marc Duke, 
founder of the Original Pet Drink Co., 
thinks your behavior borders on animal 
abuse. To remedy the situation, his com- 
pany makes two lightly carbonated bev- 
erages: beef-flavored Thirsty Dog and 
fish-flavored Thirsty Cat. A liter bottle of 
each retails for $1.79. Apparently, vita- 
min additives also make the drinks more 
healthy than tap water. Duke allows that 
some dogs may not immediately find the 
drinks to be to their liking, so he sug- 
gests that owners withhold other liquids 
until their pets develop a taste for them. 
This strategy, presumably, does not qual 
ify as animal abuse. 


SNAPPY PROSE 


What, no wet noodle? Susan Orlean, a 
writer at The New Yorker, discovered that 
Kate Rankine of London's Daily Tele- 
graph had appropriated some of Orlcan's 
writing as her own. Orlean offered to 
The New York Observer this punishment: 
“I want to pull her hair, snap her bra and 
say, Don't do that.” 


YOU BET THEIR LIFE 


This January, brokers, office workers 
and homemakers will participate in a 
fast-spreading game called the ghoul 
pool—a morbid cousin of the baby pool 
or football pool. The idea is to predict 
the deaths of the rich and famous. Ac- 
cording to the Los Angeles Times, the 
pools go by such monikers as the Game 
(regarded as the most venerable) and 
Bet They Don't Make It. Shortly after 
New Year's, players compile lists of ten 


famous people they think will drop be- 
fore the next ball in Times Square does. 
Some games offer straight points for 
each correct guess; others offer premi- 
ums based on the age of the deceased 
The more actuarial-minded keep track 
of suddenly canceled concerts, lifetime 
achievement awards and similar fore- 
shadowings of a visit by the Grim 
Reaper. Future husbands of Anna Nicole 
Smith should also qualify for special 
scrutiny. 


A VERY SHORT CIRCUIT 


Consumer Reports pointed cut the cau- 
tionary directions for what must be an 
extremely specialized heating pad: "This 
pad is not to be used on or by an invalid, 
a sleeping or unconscious person or a 
person with prior blood circulation un- 
less carefully attended." 


FLUSHED WITH SUCCESS 


Leave it to The Wall Street Journal to rip 
the lid off the seamy underbelly of na- 
ture recordings. Apparently, Americans 
spend $100 million annually on record- 
ings of waterfalls and forest sounds, but 


ILLUSTRATION BY GARY KELLEY 


what they hear may not come from na- 
ture at all. The journal cites Bernie 
Krause, who lugged his tape recorder on 
a fruitless search through the woods try- 
ing to capture the gurgle of a stream for 
his first album of outdoor sounds. He 
wound up using the sound of his toilet 
bowl filling up. Such chicanery horrifies 
nature-recording purists. But critic Jim 
Cummings told the paper that while the 
purists’ recordings may be more real, 
they're not as “riveting” or “dramatic.” 
May we add we heard a fabulously rivet 
ing and dramatic recording of what was 
purported to be a bear experiencing a 
private moment in the woods. Naysay- 
ers, however, claim it could have been 
the Pape 


FOR AGOODTIME, CALL SAL MINELLA 


The GTE 1994-1995 telephone direc 
tory SE Iowa Crossroads ran an address 
and phone number under the listing 
"JABLOWMI, Haywood.” 


DUCT TALE 


Turns out that the handyman's fa- 
vorite all-purpose adhesive tape isn’t 
right for every need. According to 101 
Secrets to Winning Beauty Pageants, a book 
full of inside tips for aspiring beauty 
queens, contestants should be cautious 
when applying tape to enhance their 
bustline. While mailing tape is best, and 
masking and surgical tapes are OK, the 
book warns: “Never use duct tape, be- 
cause it will take your skin off.” For reck- 
less pageant hopefuls it adds, “That's 
dangerous!” 


A DELTA DAWNING 


According to The Times-Picayune, Rep- 
resentative John Travis of the Louisiana 
legislature said (in opposition to an ap- 
parently popular proposal), “I can't be- 
lieve that we are going to let a majority 
of the people decide what's best for this 
state.” 


FUCKIN’ A TO Z 


We'll leave the heralding of the new 
lexicon The F-Word, edited by Jesse 


RAW DATA 


SIGNIFICA, INSIGNIFICA, STATS AND FACTS ] 


QUOTE 
“Don't think of 
him as a Republican, 
think of him as the 
man I love. And if 
that doesn't work, 
think of him as the 


COUSIN MARIA SHRIVER 
INTRODUCED ARNOLD 
SCHWARZENEGGER ` TO 
UNCLE TED KENNEDY 


THE BIRD 

According to 
claims made by emu 
ranchers, percent- 
age of NBA teams 
that use the bird’s oil 
to alleviate players’ 
aches: more than 80. 


FACT OF THE MONTH 
According to a recent study 
by the Center for Lifestyle 
Management, the average 
couple devotes only four min- 


DUDES WITH 
Do's 
Percentage 
of teenage boys 
in U.S. who use 
hair spray: 36. 


SELF-MADE MEN 
In a recent study 
of 1000 male plastic 
surgery patients, the 
number who said 
they were entrepre- 
neurs: 250. 


BUTTER UP 
= Annual per capita 

consumption of but- 
ter in the U.S. in 
1994: 4.2 pounds. 
The last year that 
butter consumption 
hit that level: 1977. 


utes per day (out ota possible 


THE BIG O NO 

In a Glamour sur- 
vey, percentage of 
female respondents 
who said that their 
male partners didn't know when they 
faked orgasms: 98. Percentage of 
women who said their partners would 
be devastated if they knew: 38. 


SPITTING DISTANCE 
Average distance between conver- 
sational partners in the U.S.: 18 inch- 
es; in Japan: 2 feet; in Mexico: 12 
inches. 


HOME BOYS 
Percentage of women in their 20s 
who live with their parents: 35; per- 
centage of their male counterparts 
who do: 45. 


BID BUDGET 
Estimated cost of winning a major- 
party presidential nomination in 
1988: $30.7 million; in 1992: $37.1 
million; in 1996: $44.7 million. 


MUST BE THAT SLIDING POLE 
Number of times firefighters in 
Syracuse, New York were injured 
putting out fires in 1994: 25. Number 
of times they were injured at the fire 
station: 28. 


1440) to meaningful conver- 
sation—and often several of 
those minutes are spent decid- 
ing whetheror not to have sex. 


LONG LAYOVER 

Number of years 
that Alfred Nasseri, 
one of the most fa- 
mous residents of 
Paris' Charles de Gaulle Airport, has 
been detained while waiting for a res- 
olution to his immigration problem: 
6. Number of diary pages Nasseri has 
filled during that time: 6000. 


TRUE FLU 

Percentage of Americans who nev- 
er call in sick for work when they 
aren't really sick: 76. 


PRICKS 
Number of acupuncturists who 
have been certified by the National 
Commission for the Certification of 
Acupuncturists since 1985: 4000. Es- 
timated number who were certified in 
1995: 1200. 


FAT CITY 
Average ratio ofdoughnut shops to 
people in the U.S.: 1 to 30,000. Ratio 
of doughnut shops to people in Los 
Angeles: 1 to 7500. 


PAIN'S PEAK 

The percentage increase of cata- 
strophic skiing injuries since 1985: 
500. — LAURA BILLINGS 


Sheidlower, to the guy who wrote the 
foreword, humorist Roy Blount Jr: 
"When I was a boy you couldn't even 
find a book with f**k in it. Now we have 
an entire dictionary devoted to nothing 
but fuck and all its offspring, from my 
own personal least favorite, which would 
be (pace Robert Mapplethorpe) fist-fuck- 
ing, to the one that pleases me most, 
which would be Bumfuck, Egypt. 1 am 
aware that many people won't sce this as 
progress. Fuck 'em." 


WAYNE'S WORLD 


Next thing you know, Ress Perot will 
claim that he's descended from Dumbo. 
Wayne Newton, who over the years has 
made much of the fact that his grandfa- 
ther was pure Powhatan, now claims to 
be a direct descendant of Pocahontas. 
He wants to have the bones of the Indi- 
an princess, who died in England in 
1617, dug up and reburied in her native 
Virginia. In which case, we hope to see 
Russell Means sing Danke Schoen to the 
Waynester. 


KUNG FU: GESUNDHEIT 


American movies may be big in С 
but their titles don't fare so well. Cons 
er the following films and their new Chi- 
nese names: True Lies was turned into 
Devil Emperor True Lies, Kindergarten Cop 
to Devil King of Children, Under Siege to 
Devil Warrior General, Indecent Proposal to 
Peach-Colored Transaction. The Shawshank 
Redemption was inexplicably changed to 
Excilement 1995. 


LOVING SPOONFULS 


A Musical Feast (Global Liaisons) is a 
cookbook featuring the favorite recipes 
of more than 100 pop stars. The project 
is definitely earnest—proceeds benefit 
homeless people—but we couldn't help 
wondering about the missed opportuni- 
ties for wordplay. For example, while 
Seal is on the menu, it's for his special 
penne—not an Arctic meat dish; Vince 
Gill avoids fish; Roy Rogers’ chicken is 
anything but fast food; Meat Loaf for- 
goes the obvious and does a cheese grits 
number; Live bakes broccoli instead of 
boiling lobster; and Sponge does salsa, 
not cake. Hootie didnt bring his blow- 
fish, but the saccharine peanut butter 
swirl bars seem apt enough. At least 
nothing is Rancid. The only artists who 
fulfill our expectations are Madonna, 
who lends her name to a cherry torte, 
and sexy Salt-N-Pepa, who offer tantaliz- 
ing, well-seasoned jerk chicken. 


IT CAN'T HAPPEN HERE 


We think he would enjoy the irony: 
‘The same week the Rock and Roll Hall of 
Fame opened in Cleveland, it was an- 
nounced that a six-foot-tall statue of Frank 
Zappa will be erected in the central park 
of Vilnius, the capital of Lithuania. 


The Gold Medal Winner 
’95 Great American Beer Festival 


Red Dog Beer. Best American Lager. Enjoy It Responsibly. Plank Road Brewery. 


WHEN YOU CAN'T SMOKE. 


INTRODUCING 
SKOAL FLAVOR PACKS. 


Skoal Flavor Packs give you 
Sey Jat tasting tobacco satisfaction. 


They're small, discreet pouches 
II SKOAL. that are easy to use and control. 


E With long lasting flavor in either THIS PRODUCT 

— cool mint or refreshing cinnamon. IS NOT A SAFE 

/ SKOAL And because they're a smooth blend O 
| FAVOR PACKS “i of tobacco, they'll never taste 


harsh or bitter. 


Skoal Flavor Packs is a trademark of U.S. Tobacco Co. or its affiliates for its smokeless tobacco. 


MOVIES 


By BRUCE WILLIAMSON 


THE SEETHING sexuality that England's 
proper Victorians kept hidden gives An- 
gels & Insects (Samuel Goldwyn) plenty of 
emotional sting. Director Philip Haas, 
co-adapter with his wife, Belinda, of a 
novella by A.S. Byatt, presents a tantaliz- 
ing family drama about love, lies and 
lurid secrets. Patsy Kensit stars as Euge- 
nia, a well-bred beauty who sets her 
sights on a penniless explorer named 
William (Mark Rylance) as he works with 
her father on his collection of rare bugs. 
Even after William marries the fair, so- 
cially superior Eugenia and they begin 
raising a brood of children in the family 
mansion, he never ceases to be amazed 
at having won her. The goings-on in an 
ant colony bear symbolic relevance as we 
watch base, instinctive human behavior 
erode the foundations of a rigidly or- 
dered society. Angels & Insects makes its 
points without overstating them as a 
hypnotic, hot-blooded period piece apt- 
ly described by one of the performers 
as “Merchant-Ivory meets Tennessee 
Williams.” УУУ 


A fictional movie inspired by the grisly 
facts behind the now-famous headline in 
The New York Post, Headless Body in Topless 
Bar (Northern Arts) throbs with intensity. 
Director James Bruce's insidious thriller, 
written and co-produced by Peter Kop- 
er, features six people held at gunpoint 
by a crazed ex-con (Raymond Barry) 
who subjects them to torture, humil- 
iation and truth games. The hostages 
include a lawyer (David Selby) whose 
briefcase is full of high-colonic para- 
phernaliz; a stripper (Jennifer MacDon- 
ald), braless and daring throughout; a 
neighborhood braggart (Taylor Nichols) 
forced to dance in the nude; and a 
wheelchair-bound voyeur played by 
composer Paul Williams. The others are 
a pizza deliveryman (Rustam Branaman) 
and the stripper's friend (April Grace), 
an unlucky lesbian who is compelled to 
decapitate the dead bartender. It's prob- 
ably too stomach-churning for the 
squeamish, but Headless Bodys trashy 
terror still rattles the schlock meter. ¥¥ 


Who is human and who is a human 
replica programmed to kill? That's the 
question posed by Screamers (Triumph), 
an apocalyptic science fiction epic st 
ring Peter Weller (the first Robocop). Di- 
rector Christian Duguay's physically 
spectacular production compensates for 
some familiar aspects of the script, 
adapted by Dan O'Bannon from a story 
by the late Philip K. Dick (whose works 
also inspired Blade Runner and Total Re- 


Rylance and Kensit give Angels a lift. 


Proper Victorians exposed, 
bar patrons held hostage and 
innocents doomed to die. 


call). Jennifer Rubin shows style as the 
beautiful woman essential to a hero try- 
ing to survive on another planet. In the 
end, everyone but Weller gets zapped in 
a pop thriller designed to play like a gi- 
gantic video game. ¥¥/2 

. 


Jack Nicholson works hard to pull The 
Crossing Guard (Miramax) out of the dol- 
drums. He plays Freddy Gale, a man ob- 
sessed with vengeance toward the 
and-run driver (David Morse) who kil 
his young daughter six years earlier. 
Writer and director Sean Penn shows 
glaring weaknesses as a filmmaker—with 
arch dialogue, jumpy camera work and 
a dark pretentiousness throughout. 
Earnest performances by all—including 
Anjelica Huston as Freddy's former wife, 
and Robin Wright as the marked man’s 
girlfriend—are allowed to wallow in a 
morass of depressing mediocrity. ¥ 

° 


Cry, the Beloved Country (Miramax), 
adapted from Alan Paton's novel, is set 
in South Africa in the Forties—back even 
before apartheid became law. Paton's 
poignant story of racism, forgiveness 
and reconciliation describes how a black 
minister ( James Earl Jones) and a white 
landowner (Richard Harris) come to- 
gether when the minister's wayward son 
is condemned to hang for robbing and 
murdering the white man's son. First 
filmed in 1951, with newcomer Sidney 


Foitier in a supporting role as a sympa- 
thetic priest, Beloved Country subsequent- 
ly became a stage musical. This new ver- 
sion, directed with stolid conviction by 
Darrell James Roodt and shot at South 
African locations, has a sluggish pace but 
a potent message. Both Jones and Harris 
ooze nobility as neighbors separated by 
color until they are bonded in anguish 
over their dead sons. Here is cinema of 
the old school—sentimental, simplistic 
and every inch a classic. ¥¥¥ 
. 


How to get rid of family members, ro- 
mantic rivals and annoying strangers is 
the gist of The Young Poisoner's Handbook 
(Cinepix Films). Inspired by an actual 
case, director Benjamin Ross' black com- 
edy is a walk on the wild side. The movie 
follows the career of teenager Graham 
Young (played with wide-eyed wicked- 
ness by Hugh O'Conor), whose pen- 
chant for murder makes him famous. 
Adjudged criminally insane, he serves 
time in prison before being released and 
presumably rehabilitated by a loopy psy- 
chiatrist (Antony Sher) who has prob- 
lems of his own. This amoral study of 
obsession treats its dark deeds as serio- 
comic social satire. ¥¥/2 
. 


Youngsters are kidnapped by the 
henchmen of a mad scientist named 
Krank (Daniel Emilfork) who taps into 
his captives’ dreams because he can't 
dream оп his own. A circus strongman 
known as One (Ron Perlman) and a pre- 
cocious nine-year-old, Miette (Judith 
Vittet), join forces to fend off evil, which 
is sometimes represented by a set of 
Siamese twin sisters called the Octopus. 
You still with us? The City of Lost Children 
(Sony Classics) is a surreal fantasy co-di- 
rected by France's Marc Caro and Jean- 
Pierre Jeunet, who made Delicatessen, 
a 1991 cult comedy that scored a hit 
with audiences hungry for something 
different. Lost Children fills the bill as a 
movie of fairy tales and mind-bending 
adventure. YY 


South Philadelphia circa 1933 looks 
oddly golden throughout Two Bits (Mira- 
max), a tearjerker virtually smothered in 
its Depression-era atmosphere. With oc- 
casional narration by Alec Baldwin, the 
story concerns a dying old man (Al Paci- 
по) on the last day of his life. He promis- 
ез to bequeath a quarter—two bits—to 
his young grandson (Jerry Barone) so 
the kid can go to the movies. Pacino, 
who obviously can't resist the chance to 
portray a grizzly old geezer, and Mary 
Elizabeth Mastrantonio, who plays the 
boy's forlorn mother, have seen better 


Demme: Happy to say uncle. 


OFF CAMERA 


On a break from editing his 
third feature, Beautiful Girls, mov- 
iemaker Ted Demme looks back with 
mixed emotions at The Ref, his 
droll comedy about a dysfunction- 
al family held hostage during the 
holidays. “A Christmas movie that 
opened in the spring,” says 
Demme, adding gratefully, “I 
think rLavsoy was the only publi- 
cation that had The Ref on that 
year's ten best list.” 

Now 32, Demme is a veteran of 
seven years in production at 
MTV—which led him to make his 
first film, “an over-the-top, silly-ass 
comedy called Who's the Man? fea- 
turing dozens of rap stars.” But he 
had other career plans when he at- 
tended State University of New 
York at Cortland. “I expected to 
become a phys-ed teacher and 
football coach, but I blew out my 
knee playing ball.” Must have 
been fate, or maybe heredity. As 
the Long Island-bred nephew of 
Oscar-winning director Jonathan 
(Silence of the Lambs) Demme, Ted 
has a strong role model. “He's my 
mentor. Imagine that you're a 
baseball player and your uncle is 
Babe Ruth. ] admire his style.” 

‘Ted is doing fine on his own, 
though, with Beautiful Girls (“It's 
what guys do, obsess about wom- 
en”) and is planning a movie called 
The Year of Frank Sinatra. “Nothing 
to do with Sinatra. It’s a character- 
driven piece about a divorcing 
couple with a 13-year-old son. The 
mom is in denial, the dad is a DJ 
who plays a lot of Sinatra.” Enjoy- 
ing a mulipicture deal with Mira- 
max, Demme aims to steer clear of 
“that bullshit Hollywood shuffle. 
So many major studios now are 
run by bullies who don't know 
dick about movies. The system 
used to work—before making 
movies became more like market- 
ing. with stars and titles promoted 
by Burger King. Can you imagine 
seeing Marlon Brando on a cup 
from McDonald' 


days. Director James Foley's previous 
credits include Glengarry Glen Ross, and 
screenwriter Joseph Stefano wrote 
Hitchcock's classic Psycho. All these tal- 
ents seemingly intend a heartwarming 
rehash of something like Cinema Par- 
adiso, but they're not even close, Y 


Disaffected young adults are exam- 
ined in Nobody Loves Me (СЕР Distribu- 
Чоп) by German director Doris Dorrie. 
Her heroine is Fanny Fink (Maria 
Schrader), who works frisking passen- 
gers at the Cologne airport and squan- 
ders her spare time brooding about sclf- 
esteem and attending evening classes 
devoted to something called Conscious 
Dying. Her life changes when she meets 
a gay black psychic named Orfeo (Pierre 
Sanoussi-Bliss) in the elevator of her 
apartment building. She also stumbles 
into a misbegotten affair with the build- 
ing manager. As droll social comment, 
Nobody Loves Me remains German to its 
roots—an original black comedy that 
succeeds in making misery look like 
bright, offbeat fun. ¥¥¥ 


Set in the court of England's Charles 
11, Restoration (Miramax) is a brainless 
comedy that sabotages a promising cast 
with bad jokes. Robert Downey Jr. pre- 
sides over the revels as royal physician to 
the king (Sam Neill), but loses the ap 
pointment after trying to mount the 
king's mistress (Polly Walker). Director 
Michael (Soapdish) Hoffman moves 
overzealously from costumed fun and 
frolic to the plague. Hugh Grant, as a 
foppish court painter, David Thewlis, as 
a medical colleague, and Meg Ryan—en- 
tirely off as an overburdened mental pa- 
tient—all struggle in vain to pump some 
life into a screenplay that should have 
been left for dead. Y 


In writer-director Julianna Lavin's 
Live Nude Girls (IRS Releasing), five Cali- 
fornia women in their 30s behave as if 
their perceptions of life, love and lin- 
gerie were gleaned from a Victoria's Se- 
cret catalog. The hostess of this bach- 
elorette slumber party is a bisexual 
named Georgina (Lora Zane). Her les- 
bian girlfriend (Olivia d'Abo) lies in bed 
upstairs and sulks while Georgina's 
more or less straight chums (Dana De- 
lany, Kim Cattrall, Cynthia Stevenson 
and Laila Robins) gossip, giggle and 
swap stories about sex with a delivery 
boy or a housepainter, threesomes and 
masturbation fantasies. Much of it is 
spelled out in flashbacks, with flashes of 
nudity in which all the actresses look ex- 
ccptionally fit. Live Nude Girls is enter- 
taining bitchery that makes women scem 
entirely preoccupied with their psyches 
or their suntans and never answers one 
question: Is that all there is? УШУ» 


MOVIE SCORE CARD 


capsule close-ups of current films 
by bruce williamson 


The American President (Reviewed 1/96) 
Douglas and Bening find love inside 
the Beltway. wy 
Angels & Insects (See review) Bugging 
some improper Victorians. ww 
Carrington (12/95) British bohemians 
leap into the Roaring Twenties. ¥¥¥ 
The City of Lost Children (See review) 
Delicatessen fans should eat it up. УУ 
The Crossing Guard (See review) Penn's 
folly—even Nicholson can't save it. Y 
Cry, the Beloved Country (See review) 
From South Africa, with love. wy 
Frankie Starlight (1/96) Pure blarney 
about a dwarf hero in Ireland. vy 
Georgia (1/96) Jennifer Jason Leigh 
acts up a storm as a god-awful singer 
and her talented sibling's rival. ¥¥¥ 
Get Shorty (12/95) Crooks go Holly- 
wood in a wry take on Elmore 
Leonard's book—featuring Travolta, 
Hackman and company. wy 
Headless Body in Topless Bar (See re- 
view) Grisly but done to a turn. ¥¥ 
How to Make an American Quilt (12/95) A 
totally girlish get-together. vy 
Lost Summer in the Hamptons (1/96) Mr. 
Jaglom stages a country weekend. YY 
Leaving Las Vegas (12/95) Cage and 
Shue win big as two born losers. ¥¥¥ 
Live Nude Girls (See review) Chitchat 
galore at a slumber party. Wh 
Mighty Aphrodite (1/96) A Greek cho- 
rus and Mira Sorvino are the main- 
stays of Woody's wacky romantic 
comedy. УУУУ 
Nobody Loves Me (See review) The per- 
ils of being young, German and 
unhappy. vv 
Reckless (1/96) Marked woman Mia 
flees her home for the holidays. УУ 
Restoration (See review) Plague kills 
comedy in the court of Charles II. ¥ 
Screamers (See review) Another sci- 
ence fiction fast move for Robocop's 
Weller LUZ 
Shanghai Triad (1/96) Beautiful Gong 
Li vs. ruthless Asian bad guys. УУУУ; 
Things to Do in Denver When You're Dead 
(12/95) Crooks fall out when a simple 
caper goes dead wrong. Wh 
Two Bits (Sec review) As a dying old 
codger, Pacino is shortchanged. ¥ 
When Night Is Falling (1/96) A woman 
recruits a woman to replace her 
man. wi 
wild Bill (1/96) Jeff Bridges rides high 
as the celebrated gunslinger. УУУ 
The Young Poisoner's Handbook (See re- 
view) Lethal British comedy. Ya 


YYYY Don't miss 
¥¥¥ Good show 


VY Worth a look 
Y Forget it 


VIDEO 


OUEST SHOT 


Peter Falk recalls few 
videos by title, but 
he's great at giving 
clues: “What's that 
picture set in a Berlin 
hotel with Garbo and 
that guy from Tug- 
boat Annie?” he 
rasps at a Columbo- 
like cadence. Grand Hotel? “Yeah—that's 
the one. Just terrific." Falk still savors the 
screen thrills of his youth: "Ingrid 
Bergman’s back was a real turn-on for me 
as a teenager," he confesses (For Whom 
the Bell Tolls, maybe?), "and | love that one 
with Cagney dancing” (Yankee Doodle 
Dandy?). But the forgetful TV cop names 
John Cassavetes as all-time best director 
{for Love Streams), with Peter Yates as a 
runner-up. “What's his picture—the one 
about the kid with the bicycle, thinks he's 
Italian?” Breaking Away? “Yeah, that's the 
one.” Case closed. ртм: 


VIDBITS 


‘Tycoons, POWs, married couples and 


the man of steel all show up on this 
month's. tube-to-tape Classic TV 
now available for rewind: Dallas, Hogan's 


Heroes and The Adventures of Superman 
(Columbia House, 800-638-2922); The 
Honeymooners Lost Episodes (12-volume set, 
MPI); and The Lucy & Desi Comedy Hour 
(four tapes, CBS). . 
Cubans, Cigars: From Seeds to Smoke 
(Time-Life) is a 43-minute history of the 
stogie, from tips for the novice puffer 
(e.g., the thicker the roll, the cooler the 
pull) to a crop of factoids (forget the 
Caribbean—wrapper leaves are often 
from Connecticut). Call 800-TIMEVID. . . . 
For gloom with a view, Home Vision has 
added four titles to its impressive 
Bergman collection. The quartet—three 
doleful, one up-tempo—includes: The 
Rite (1969, three actors are tried for ob- 
scenity), The Virgin Spring (1959, Max von 
Sydow avenges his daughter's death), 
Summer Interlude (1950, an aging ballerina 
looks back) and The Magic Flute (1973, 
Ingmar meets Amadeus). 


HO VIDEO 


If Waterworld (see Mood Meter) didn't 
float your boat, rest easy. You can always 
dip back into Hollywood's memorable 
sea fare, all available on vid: 

The Poseidon Adventure (1972): A special- 
effects Oscar went to this tale of a luxury 
liner gone south. All-star ballast includes 
Gene Hackman, Ernest Borgnine and 
Shelley Winters—who did her own un- 
derwater stunts. Yikes. 


. Speaking of 


20,000 Leagues Under the Sea (1954): James 
Mason as Captain Nemo welcomes Kirk 
Douglas and crew to his oceanic king- 
dom. Disney's Oscar-winning effects add 
pizzazz to Jules Verne's subtext. 

The Doy of the Dolphin (1973): Buck Henry 
provides the voices for two talking por- 
poises that help George C. Scott scrub an 
assassination plot. Off-the-deep-end 
premise (Buck also logged the script), 
but still compelling. 

A Night to Remember (1958): Brit remake 
of Hollywood's Titanic proves the ulti- 
mate downer (in this case, a plus). David 
McCallum, Kenneth More and doomed 
companions make the film a classic. 
‘Mutiny on the Bounty (1935): Skip the Bran- 
do-Howard pairing of 1962—as well as 
the 1985 Gibson-Hopkins outing—and 
get back to basics: Gable’s earnest Fletch- 
cr and Laughton's bellowing Bligh spark 
this deserving best-flick winner. 
Leviathan (1989): Peter Weller and Rich- 
ard Crenna play deep-sea hide-and-seek 
with Alien-type critter in bathtub caliber. 
Better to stick with 1980's The Abyss, star- 
ring Ed Harris as an oil rigger salvaging 
a sunken sub. 

The Incredible Mr. Limpet (1964): Combo 
cartoon-live action tale features Don 
Knotts as the titular wimp-turned-su- 
perfish who takes on the Nazis. Good for 
kids, great for adults. 

Jaws (1975): This fish-eats-man story still 
has teeth 20 years later. Shark-slayers 
Scheider, Dreyfuss and Shaw try to keep 
the small-town tourist biz alive. By the 
way, steer clear of sequels 2, 3-D and The 
Revenge. They bite. —DAVIDSTINE 


X-RATED 
VIDEO OF THE MONTH 


Talk about living up to a title. Every Wom- 
an Has a Fantasy 3 (МСА), the latest in 
director Edwin 
Durell's saga of 
a horny house- 
wife on a quest 
for satisfac- 


tion, boasts 

head-spinning 

sex and an end- 

less lineup of 

knockouts. But 

the jaw-dropping turn by newcomer Juli 
Ashton gives the flick its fire. How does 
she do all that nasty stuff and still look so 
sweet? Guess we'll have to watch again. 


LASER FARE 


The fashionably funny Britcom Absolute- 
ly Fabulous—all about England's flakiest 
duo—made its way to the States via ca- 
ble's Comedy Central. Now the cult hit is 
on a 12-episode, three-disc set ($100 
from CBS/Fox). But be warned: The ac- 
cents get pretty thick. . . . MCA/Univer- 
sal's homage to old horror continues 
with the boxed set The Gelden Age of Sci- 
ence Fiction Thrillers П ($100). Plumbing 
the high-anxiety, low-tech, crank-'em- 
out age of science fiction, the fearsome 
foursome includes Land Unknown (1957), 
Monolith Monsters (1957), Monster on the 
Campus (1958) and Leech Woman (1960)— 
all of them cheesy, but nicely aged 
cheese, thank you. ^ —GREGORY f FAGAN 


Waterworld (Costner’s Mad Max o” the Sea—o briny-not- 
brainy floodfest that wasn't the Fishtar critics expected), Un- 
der Siege 2: Dark Territory (terrorists 
Navy Seal Seagal isn't fazed; dumb fun). 


ee (Southern belle Roberts fini 
= 


jock train, but former 


feel free to ies EE 
cathers; ‹ SU 


Two from mm know-who: Nine Months (Grant knocks up 
girlfriend —hems, hows, weds her), The Englishman Who Went 
Up a Hill But Come Down a Mountain (Welsh villagers con car- 


togropher Grant into fudgii 


the number: 


charming fluff). 


19 


FOLK 


WITH THEIR jangly, slightly jazzy, al- 
ternative approach, Indigo Girls 
are as close to a phenomenon as the 
folk circuit can boast. They've sold 
6 million albums domestically, and 
they're nov consolidating their success 
with a double-CD live set, 1200 Curfews 
(Epic), that conveys the pure essence of 
Indigo better than any of their studio al- 
bums. Emily Saliers and Amy Ray—with 
their acoustic guitars and backup musi- 
cians—appeal with their stirring har- 
monies. Like many of their folkie con- 
temporaries, the Indigos are a shade 
earnest and are given more to straight- 
forward aphorisms than to wordplay. 
"Their detractors might describe them as 
PC, but I am not one of their detractors. 
You could live next door to them and be 
their friend, if you're not Newt Gingrich 
That's good enough for me. 

Since the late Sixties, Leo Kottke has 
wowed acoustic-guitar aficionados with 
his highly musical acrobatics. Less well 
known is his wonderfully absurd sense 
of humor, an injustice remedied on 
Live (Private Music/On the Spot). His 
monologs are guaranteed to crack you 
up, and his guitar still dazzles. 

As long as we're on the subject of 
acoustic guitar, I want to 1ave about 
Preston Reed's Metal (Dusty Closet Rec- 
ords). Ofall the guys who came up in the 
wake of Kottke (and John Fahey), Reed 
has taken the genre їп the most innova- 
tive directions, both with technique and 
with composition. The title track, an 
acoustic tribute to heavy metal, will drop 
your jaw. —CHARLES M, YOUNG 


ROCK 


The Bo Dcans arc onc of the great 
unrecognized pop-rock bands of the 
Nineties, and Joe Dirt Car (Slash/Reprise) 
is a two-disc set of 24 finely crafted 
heartland songs. Is the record company 
takinga chance releasing such an expan- 
sive chronicle of a cult band? Repeat lis- 
tening provides the answer.—DAvE MARSH 


Randy Newman's Faust (Reprise) ain't 
Goethe. It ain't Sondheim or Rodgers 
and Hammerstein either—it's more 
earthy and more cynical, respectively. 
Newman's musical-comedy rewrite of 
the soul-selling tale revels in the high- 
spirited irony that has been his specialty 
over nearly three decades as Hollywood 
rock's most respected songwriter. And 
although he may hit Broadway, he will 
never match the CD's cast: himself as the 
devil, James Taylor as God, Linda Ron- 
stadt as the good girl, Bonnie Raitt as the 
bad girl, and Don Henley in the title 

20 role. This Faust is a freshman at Notre 


Indigo Girls make Curfew. 


Newman's Faust, 
rare Dead, technomania 
and acoustic folk. 


Dame who signs the contract sight un- 
seen because he never reads on his 
own time. 

Newman's book is haphazard, but 
these songs are rich. They mock rock, 
religion, musical comedy, classics and 
American culture all at once. God is a 
palavering politician, the devil a midlife 
whiner and Faust a bigger creep than 
both of them put together. Newman 
takes so much pleasure in his own artis- 
tic hubris that his satiric vision never 
turns cheap. The love songs he gives 
Ronstadt and Raitt are his warmest ever. 
Musical comedy is the perfect medium 
for his unique synthesis of soundtrack 
grandeur, blues-savvy studio rock and 
general Americana. If he ever does 
reach Broadway vith this thing, he'll put 
Hair and Tommy to shame, and maybe 
even Sondheim. 

f, the Artist Formerly Known as 
Prince, isn't as far gone as some think. 
This is not to predict that The Gold Experi- 
ence (Warner Bros./NPG) will completely 
revive his commercial identity. But it is 
to insist that the strongest tracks here— 
P Control and Endorphinmachine—are 
funk and rock as outrageous and origi- 
nal as anything he's ever recorded. 

——ROBERT CHRISTGAU 


It’s been said that the Grateful Dead 
aren't the best at what they do—they're 
the only ones who do what they do. 
They stretch country blues into free 
form without dissolving into chaos. But 


even the band members admit it rarely 
works in the studio. Fortunately, just be- 
fore Jerry Garcia's death, the band inked 
an agreement to distribute many of their 
rarer, mostly live recordings through 
their label, Arista. The first of these, Hun- 
dred Year Hall, captures their unique live 
chemistry better than any album sincc 
1970's Live/Dead. This two-CD set is a 
near perfect blend of their traditional 
and weird sides, which bleed together ef- 
fortlessly. The second disc begins and 
ends with intense versions of Truckin’ 
and Sugar Magnolia that are both eart 
er and looser than the studio takes. 


_ Sandwiched in between is Cryptical En- 


velopment, which ebbs and flows without 
losing its footing. 

If any band is poised to take the 
Dead's place, it’s Vermont's eclectic 
Phish. While the Dead's foundation is 
built on blues, bluegrass and bebop, 
Phish is anchored in funk, fusion and 
hard rock. The group's first concert re- 
lease, A Live One (Elektra), highlights its 
blissful harmonies and absurdist lyrics. 
The high-cnergy ensemble playing en- 
ters the zone where song structure and 
improvisation mesh. — — VIC GARBARINI 


R&B 


Maxwell's Urban Hang Suite (Columbia) 
showcases the breathy, velvet vocals of a 
young New York singer. With the aid of 
Sade's Stewart Mathewman and other 
cool R&B music makers, Maxwell pre- 
mieres a smooth 11-song collection. For 
the romantically inclined, her Sumthin’ 
Sumthin', Whenever Wherever Whatever 
and the hooky "Til the Cops Come Knockin’ 
will provide perfect accompaniment 

—NELSON GEORGE 


The 22 tracks on Bobby Byrd Got Soul: 
The Best of Bobby Eyrd (Polydor Chronicles) 
conclusively prove that James Brown's 
perennial sidekick is a soul-funk genius. 
In addition to the basic Flames stuff, he 
takes on Sam & Dave and Stevie Won- 
der and damn near beats them at their 
own game. —DAVE MARSH 


TECHNO 


Moby's most recent album established 
that you can listen to techno as well as 
dance to it. Now, techno pioneer Rik 
Davis of Cybotron has made Cyber Ghetto 
(Fantasy) using a techno style and tech- 
nique that's so moody and arty the re- 
sults are all but undanceable. However, 
Davis contributes plenty of groove to 
chew on, and tracks such as Cyber Jesus 
(Tales of the D'Trexian Mythos) have plenty 
of drive. The main concern of Cyber Ghet- 
to is creating an atmosphere in which 


various stories can be told, often in a 
voice reminiscent of Sun Ra. Like Ra, 
Davis’ concerns are spiritual and musi- 
cal, and they share fundamental mes- 
sages: peace, harmony and possibility. If 
Davis’ music seems undanceable, maybe 
that's because he's trying to teach a few 
new steps. —DAVE MARSH 


RAP 


LL Cool ], a hip-hop hero since his 
debut ten years ago, is at a career 
crossroads. His previous album was a 
commercial disappointment. And he's 
become a sitcom star, which is а sure way 
for a rapper to lose credibility. 

Yet 11:5 latest, Mr. Smith (Def Jam/Poly- 
gram), is a solid return filled with sharp, 
witty rhymes, entertaining boasts and 
variations on the rapper's trademark vo- 
cals. Hey Lover, a duet with LL and Boyz 
II Men, is an ingratiating rap ballad that. 
uses Michacl Jackson's Lady in My Life 
for its instrumental bed. Equally pop but 
much funkier is Doin’ Jt. Built around a 
sample from Grace Jones’ My Jamaican 
Guy, Doin' It features LL trading sexy 
lines with female rapper LaShaun. It's 
LI's best dance track since Jingling Baby. 
For those who are looking for hard- 
edged rhymes, / Shot Ya, both in the orig- 
inal and the album-ending remix, is full 
of clever verbal gymnastics. Mr. Smith 
shows this is a rap star whose skills are 
maturing as he does. —NELSON GEORGE 


JAZZ 


George Gershwin enjoyed a reputa- 
tion as a grand pianist, and The Piano 
Rolls, Volume 2 (Nonesuch) offers proof 
to modern listeners. In the Twenties, 
Gershwin preserved nearly 100 songs on 
player-piano rolls. Now transferred to а 
computerized playback piano, the songs 
capture Gershwin's spirited rhythms 
and two-fisted virtuosity. The real treat 
comes in hearing Gershwin apply his 
musical trademarks—distinctive har- 
monies and melodic turns—to songs 
written by his contemporaries. Who 
could ask for anything more? 

Yesterday's hit parade continues with 
a dual-CD anthology from the first great 
tenor saxist in jazz. Coleman Hawkins: A 
Retrospective: 1929-1963 (Blucbird) con- 
tains classics as well as Hawkins' cross- 
generational 1963 meeting with Sonny 
Rollins. 

You ought to find a good postholiday 
sale on Blues, Boogie and Bop (Mercury), a 
seven-disc treasury of soulful sounds 
from the Forties. Packaged to look like a 
plastic vintage radio, its more than 170 
tracks chronicle the roots of modern 
rhythm and blues with such diverse 
artists as boogie-woogie giant Albert Am- 
mons and pioneering pianist Mary Lou 
Williams. — NEIL TESSER 


FAST TRACKS 


OCKMETER 


Christgau | Garbarini | George | Marsh | Young 

4 6 8 8 8 
Grateful Dead 
Hundred Yeor Ной 6 9 9 2 7 
Indigo Girls 
1200 Curfows 5 i 7 6 7 
LL Cool J 
Ме Smith 6 6 8 Ta 7 
Randy Newmon 
Faust 10 8 8 8 10 


MOTHER OF GOD DEPARTMENT: A New 
York jewelry firm is suing Medonne to 
prevent her from marketing jewelry 
under her first name. The company 
has been using the name Madonna 
since before the star was born. Its 
lawyers further claim Madonna 
doesn't have the right to use her name 
as a trademark “particularly because 
it has attained stature as the name of 
the mother of Christ.” Mama mia. 

REELING AND ROCKING: Rhino films is 
developing the Bob Wills and the Texas 
Playboys story for а film bio. . . . Annie 
Lennox is co-director of a music docu- 
mentary about her current tour. 
Vanessa Williams’ next role will be as 
Arnold Schwarzenegger's leading lady in 
Eraser. . . . liv Tyler is up for а part in 
Тот Hanks’ movie That Thing You Do. 
Hanks’ script is about a Sixties rock 
band. He also plans to direct. . . 
Robert Duvall's film company is making 
a movie about Merle Haggard's years as 
a teen outlaw. Haggard plans to write 
and perform songs for it. . . . China 
Kantner, daughter of Paul Kantner and 
Groce Slick, has been cast in the sequel 
to Terms of Endearment. . . . Penny Mar- 
shall will direct Whitney Houston in a re- 
make of The Bishop's Wife, called The 
Preacher's Wife, Co-starring Denzel 
Washington. 

NEWSBREAKS T" and Lenny Kravitz are 
discussing joint tour dates. . . . Live is 
working on a new CD... er Gabriel 
is recording a new album and has 40 
pieces of music to choose from. . . . It 
was only a matter of time: David Lee 
Roth has a Vegas-style revue that 
played in Las Vegas, of course, with 
Edgar Winter on sax. . . . Lou Reed’s next 
album was cooked up in his home stu- 
dio. Expect it to be released in the 
spring. . - . Two separate film crews 
were on hand to shoot documentary 
footage of what John Lee Hooker de- 
scribed as his last live performance. 


Hooker, at 75, plans to continue to 
record. . . . Sammy Hager has devel- 
oped a new guitar—an acoustic-elec- 
tric one called the Red Rocker—with 
Washburn guitars. Hagar says he was 
frustrated playing Where Eagles Fly be- 
cause he needed both sounds. The 
guitars will be available in retail out- 
lets, and the initial three models will 
range in price from $899 to $1899... . 
David Coverdale's next album will not 
be a collaboration with Jimmy Page, but 
Page will play on it. . . . Although Hol- 
lywood has shown considerable inter- 
est in the murder of Seattle rock 
singer Mia Zapata (and in the female 
private investigator hired to find her 
killer), band members are wary. The 
Gits want the story told without show 
business flourishes. In that vein, a 
friend of Zapata's is writing a screen- 
play. The Gits-Joan Jett CD collabora- 
tion, Evil Stig, will raise money to keep 
the investigation going. .. . The dates 
for the 1996 New Orleans Jazz & Her- 
itage Festival are April 26 to May 5. 
Mark your calendar. . . . Counting Crows 
is recording the follow-up to August 
and Everything After. . . . Phil Collins has 
recorded Somewhere from West Side Sto- 
т)... . The drummer and bassist for 
Creedence Clearwater Revival, Doug Cl 
ford and Stu Cook, are back on the road 
as Creedence Clearwater Revisited. It may 
not make John Fogerty happy, but their 
fans are. . . . Zappa Records has been 
reactivated to issue unreleased 
recordings from Frank Zappa and new 
music from Dweezil and Ahmet. . . . 
Lastly, Dolores Fuller, who worked on 
the scores for some of Elvis" movies, 
claims she has hired his illegitimate 
son to sing on a soundtrack she is 
working on. Fuller says that Elvis Aron 
Presley Jr. has court-certified proof 
that he is Elvis son. And I have some 
swampland in Florida to sell. 
—BARBARA NELLIS 


21 


TRAVEL 


IMMIGRATION STARTS CARDING 


Lines at immigration may be a thing of the past. If you're an 
American citizen who travels abroad at least three times a 
year, you can now obtain an ATM-ty pe card called an Inspass 
(it stands for Immigration and Naturalization Service Passen- 
ger Accelerated Service System) that will get you through air- 
port immigration at JFK, Newark or Toronto's Lester Pearson 
International in a breeze. It works this way: Upon arriving at 
one of these airports, the cardholder proceeds direcily to an 
Inspass kiosk. With one swipe of the card, a machine verifies 
the person's citizenship and admissibility. As a double check, 
the traveler places his hand on a screen so the system can read 
his palm geometry. (All this information was recorded when 
the person registered for the pass, free of charge, at any one 
of the three participating airports.) The entire verification 
process takes about 90 seconds. The kiosk then spits out a re- 
ceipt for Customs. Look for an Inspass kiosk at every U.S. 
point of entry sometime in the future. Meanwhile, United Air- 
lines’ new electronic ticket program, called E-Ticket, has all 
but eliminated messy 
paperwork. When you 
reserve a flight—ci- 
ther through a travel 
agent or with Unit- 
ed—your name, 
credit card 
number, Mileage 
5 Plus number and 

flight information 
are stored in United's 
computer system. At 
о the airport, you check 
in, produce a photo 
ID, receive your 
boarding pass and get on the plane. At LAX and San Francis- 
co International Airport, ticket customers have it even easie! 
They can get their boarding passes through ATM-like m. 
chines. Southwest Airlines also offers ticketless travel. It's only 
a matter of time before other airlines follow suit. 


NIGHT MOVES: RIO DE JANEIRO 


If luck sets you down in the samba capital this Carnaval 
month of February, you won't need anything other than your 
best cutoff jeans—and maybe less. Carnaval happens any 
place two people hear the scratch of the тесо-тесо or the hiccup 
of the cuica and begin to shuffle their feet and sway their hips. 
To witness moist ruling-class flesh spilling out of show-all tan- 
gas, ask your hotel concierge for help in getting into the 
Hawaii Ball at the Yacht Club on Botafogo Bay or the Nightin 
Baghdad Ball at thc Clube Monte Libano in Lagoa. The top 
samba-school parades at the Sambadromo arc expensive but 
worth every penny. Also, watch for the winner's parade on the 
Saturday night after Fat Tuesday, when up to 5000 dancers, 
ingers and musicians participate; or catch the Blocos and the 
nchos, the more modest Carnaval organizations, parade on 
Avenida Rio Branco. When things quiet down about six A.M., 
the locals do not go home. They go to the beach. Try the one 
opposite the country club in Ipanema, or head for youthful, 
surfing Barra. Eat like a pig at Mariu's or Porcáo (which 
means “big pig”). At the Academia da Cachaca in Leblon, 
you can enjoy cocktails made from local rums and tropical 
fruits and berries you've never heard of (such as cupuacu and 
Jaboticaba). Hippopotamus, on Barão da Torre Street, is the 
ruling disco. Lord Jim, on Paul Redfern, is where local girls 
who are studying English go to meet boys who speak it as a 
birthright. And if you miss Carnaval, the other 51 weeks of the 
22 year are barely a twist of the dial down in intensity. 


GREAT ESCAPE 
THE AMERICAN ORIENT EXPRESS 


The American Orient Express, a private luxury train oper- 
ated out of Seattle, is bringing back the romance of 
transcontinental rail travel. From March through April the 
11-car train will make six nine-day cross-country runs 
along the southern route. Each car is elegantly appointed 
with mahogany and brass, and each sleeping compart- 
ment features a large picture window and a private bath- 


x ee 
room. Meals in the paneled dining car are exceptional, 
and a pianist plays nightly in the lounge. Stopovers in- 
clude Charlottesville, New Orleans, San Antonio and 
Santa Fe. Price: $5000 to $7500 per person, one way. 
From May through October, the American Orient runs be- 
tween Denver and Santa Fe on ten-day National Parks of 
the West trips that include visits to the Grand Canyon, 
Rocky Mountain National Park and Zion National Park. 
The price for this journey is $4000 to $6500 per person. 
Call 800-727-7477 for more information or to book. 


ROAD STUFF 


Think of the Credit Card Companion (pictured here) as a 
toolbox that fits in your wallet. Inside its Zytel credit-card-size 
case are a stainless steel knife, a can-and-bottle opener, an awl, 
a screwdriver, tweezers and a toothpick, plus a com- 

pass and an 8X lens. And the $24.95 price is al- 
most as small as its 1.3-ounce weight. € To 
keep you dry on business trips, Totes has 4 
introduced a man-size (46 inches in di- 
ameter) collapsible umbrella that 
opens and closes at the 

push of a button. 
Colors include 
black, navy, 
khaki, gray, 


\ 
JP 
= 
айй 


crimson, teal, 
wine and forest 
green. The price 
is about $25. e 
The travel alarm 
clock from Swiss 
Army Brand is the 
perfect backup to a 
wake-up call. Its black 
clamshell case opens to 
forma stand, the analog dis- 
play is casy to read and the 
alarm tone is effective yet won't 
yank you out of dreamland too 
abruptly. Price: $65 


WHERE & HOWTO BUY ON PAGE 151 


"THE SWEET SMELL 


OF SUCCESS 


HOYO DE MONTERREY 


f You deserve it, so enjoy the superior smoking pleasure of the magnificent 


ETIT DN 
THOMPSON 


America's Oldest Mail Order 
Cigar Company. Est, 1915 


© 1995, Thompson & Co, Inc. 


61/4" x 45 ring Natural wrapper, Hoyo Churchills. 
Handmade in Honduras of select Cuban-seed tobaccos, 
Hoyos are a favorite of diplomats, executives, 
thought leaders, trend setters and those 
smokers from whom others take their 
cues in fine cigar selection. 


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WIRED 


IT'S ALL ROCK AND ROLL 


With the celebrity hype surrounding the 
opening of Cleveland's Rock and Roll 
Museum, you probably missed all its cool 
uses of technology. A wall of TV moni- 
tors inside, for example, plays an endless 
stream of music videos. You can view 
films that trace the roots of rock in one of 
two state-of-the-art movie theaters. In- 
teractive listening stations provide the 
opportunity to hear, among other 
things, sound bites from the nation's top 
radio disc jockeys. There's a re-creation 
of Sun Records Studio, where Elvis cut 
his first sides—complete with authentic 
recording gear. And that's just for 
starters. Next fall, AL&T plans to unveil 
a new interactive wing that will resemble 
a stack of 45-rpm records suspended 
atop a 55-foot spindle that rises out of 


"Su 


There, visitors will learn about AT&' 
role in the evolution of the music indus- 
try, with inventions such as LP recording 
techniques and the laser beam. If you 
can't get to Ohio, AT&T plans to bring 
the party to you with an online virtual 
Rock and Roll Museum. While this offer- 
ing is still under conceptual construction 
: no details yet), you can check out 
the Rock and Roll Museum's Web site at 
http//www.rockhall.com/. 


SEGA TURNS PC 


Computer gamers who have been beg- 
ging for better arcade-style action on 
their PC will get their wish. Sega is deliv- 
ering on its promise to begin offering se- 
lect Genesis and Saturn video games to 
the IBM-compatible market. Among the 
first Sega crossover titles are Tomcat Alley, 
an aerial combat adventure; Virtua Fight- 


7A er Remix, an updated version of the ar- 


cade bruiser; and, yes, Sonic CD. But 
there are some hitches: First, you'll need 
a Pentium-based PC that runs Windows 
95. Saturn ports require a PC equipped 
with Diamond Multimedia's 
Edge 3D accelerator (a $250 
board based on a special-ef- 
fects chip by a company called 
Nvidia). And unless you're 
buying a new Pentium com- 
puter, you'll have to wait a few 
months to take Sonic for a 
spin. Initially, the popular 
hedgehog is being bundled 
exclusively with special Intel- 
enhanced computers. 


SATELLITE SOUNDS 


Of the many new technologies promised 
by the year 2000, one of our favorites is 
digital satellite radio. Besides beaming 
CD-quality digital music to your car, 
DSR allows you to drive cross-country 
listening to the same commercial-free 
station. According to David Margolese, 
chairman of CD Radio, a future DSR 
provider, the service will debut in 
1998. At that time, you'll be able to 


purchase an automobile with a car stereo 
that features AM/FM and satellite bands 
as well as a silver-dollar-size satellite dish 
stamped onto the roof. (You'll also be 


able to buy aftermarket DSR car stereos, 
but it's too soon to speculate on prices.) 
Programming will consist of a variety of 
music stations, including rock, jazz, clas- 
sical and country, as well as 20 niche sta- 

tions that vill provide news and 
sports. Sold similarly to ca- 
ble, the DSR subscriptions 
should cost between $5 and 
$10 per month, per vehicle. 


WILD THINGS 


The incredible shrinking cellulor phone has now 
reoched lillipution proportions with the introduc- 
tion of Audiovox's new digital MVX-800. Pic- 
tured here (o tad larger thon its actual size), the 
$800 portable hos one-touch speed dioling, on 
LED light thot floshes to alert you to incoming 
calls (there's also о ringer) ond a personal iden- 
tification function that prevents illegal use of your 
cellular number. Other feotures include a nickel 
metal hydride battery that offers one hour of talk 
time with 11 hours of standby and o three-line, 
30-character LCD display. ® P22 Type Foundry, a 
company that develops computer fonts based on 
ortists and оп! movements, recently added several 
interesting selections to its library. Among our fa- 
vorites ore De Stijl, inspired by the geametric ort 
ond design of the Dutch movement of Ihe Twenties; 
Acropolis Now, featuring fonts thot resemble the 
decorotive arts of ancient Greece; ond Daddy-O, a 
typefoce commissioned by the Whitney Museum to 
coincide with its Beat Culture in America exhibit cur- 
rently on display. Each costs about $20. e Ice first, 
heat later is the advice commonly given by physi 
cians for treating minor muscle-related sports in- 
juries. Now you con do both—while getting a gentle 
mossage— with Uliratherm. Using a patented ther- 
moelectric heat-pump technology, this hondheld hot- 
ond-cold mossoger lets you alternate between set- 
tings of 40 degrees and 115 degrees with the flip of 
o switch. The price: $195, including a built-in 
rechargeable battery. € Dotasonix' Pereos is the ulti- 
mote woy to Кее up hord-drive space. The ten-ounce 
PC peripheral slares as many as 100 gigobytes on 
postage-stamp-size digital cassettes. Price: $649. 


MULTIMEDIA 
REVIEWS & NEWS 


ON CD-ROM 
Call it a shameless plug for ourselves, 
but Planit Playboy remains among the 
most comprehensive and entertaining 
personal information managers on the 
market. Aside from offering key fea- 
tures—daily, weekly and monthly plan- 
ners, to-do lists, address book, etc.—this 
CD-ROM greets each day with beautiful 
images of PLAYBOY Playmates. There are 
hundreds of photographs, gleaned 
mostly from Nineties Playmate pictori- 
als. In initial shots, models appear 
clothed, but with a double click of your 
mouse on the image, you can instantly 
link to a full-screen nude. PlanIt Playboy 


CYBER SCOOP 


We were bummed by the loss 
of The World Wide Web Dat- 
ing Game, o Web site where 
Netheads were invited to par- 
ticipote in a love match loosely 
potterned after the former TV 
game show. Apparently, Sony 
threatened to sue the site's cre- 
ator, so she was forced to pull 
the plua on her online version. 


Seventh Level has signed с 
deal with Quincy Jones to cre- 
ate Q's Jook Joint, a CD-ROM 
chronicle of the history of 
American music, Look for it in 
stores later this year. 


also features excerpts of popular Playboy 
Interviews, which change daily, along 
with Party Jokes, selections from the 
Playboy Advisor and more. And there are 
video clips: A tutorial starring 1990 Play- 
mate of the Year Reneé Tenison helps 
you navigate the interface, while a video 
Playmate advises you of your daily 
schedule. You can even enjoy footage 
from Playboy Home 
Videos in a simulation 
of the Playboy Man- 
sion's private screen- 
ing room. And for 
those rare occasions 
when you would 
rather see your own 
photos on-screen, 
Planit Playboy al- 
lows you to replace 
the Playmate shots 
with files imported 
from photo CDs. (By 
Anomaly, for Windows, about $30.) 


Take the Enterprise's captain's chair and 
engage in one hell ofa wild, cinematic 
science-fiction adventure with Star Trek: 


Biting the dust in Dust 


The Next Generation—“A Final Uni 
has been taken to make every aspect of 
this CD-ROM faithful to its TV counter- 
part. Original cast members lend their 
likenesses and voices, and all of the great 
Star Trek gadgets come complete with 
sound effects. You also have full control 
over the Enterprise's engineering and 
weaponry systems. For example, during 
Away Team Missions, where the main 
adventuring and puzzle-solving aspects 
of the game take place, you can either let 
the computer select your crew and 
equipment or 
assemble your 
own team and 
gear. What's 
more, control 
of the Enter- 
prise during 
navigation and 
battles can re- 
main in the ca- 
pable hands of 
crew members 
La Forge and 
Worf, or you 
can use a full- 
fledged space- 
flight simulation. A Final Unity is highly 
interactive, has lush graphics that arc a 
rcal grabber and is a solid adventure for 
the gaming crowd as well as a virtual 
episode for those of us who haven't yet 
made it into the Academy (Ry Spectrum 
Holobyte, for DOS, about $60.) 


From the moment the Stranger struck a 
match in the opening sequence of Dust: A 
Tale of the Wired West, wc were hooked. In 
fact, we racked up more than 20 hours 
exploring the nooks and crannics of Di- 
amond Back, New Mexico, the setting of 
this Wild West adventure. Created by 
Cyberflix, developers of the award-win- 
ning Jump Raven and Lunicus, Dust pits 
you—as the Stranger—against a cast of 
some ofthe most memorable miscreants 
to hit the computer screen. Buick Riv- 
iera, for example, is a scheming French- 
man in a bad plaid suit who bums cash 
one minute and pushes you down a 
flight of stairs the 
next. There are also 
Jackalope Jones, a 
lovestruck cowpoke 
with a Lyle Lovett 
do; Oona Canutc, a 
bawdy madam in 
need of a makeover; 
and Doc Hillary 
Rodham, the town 
M.D., whose face 
looks strangely fa- 
miliar. You'll en- 
counter these and 
other residents of Diamond Back as you 
spend five digital days searching for 
clues and solving puzzles that ultimately 
lead to a lost Indian treasure. Dust's in- 
triguing computer-rendered environ- 


Not for Trekkers orly 


ment captures your attention—and the 
characters and quest keep it. Whether 
you're wandering around town, playing 
blackjack at the Hard Drive Saloon or 
checking out Diamond Back's other cu- 
rious haunts, be sure to talk with every- 
one. But be cautious. The reception you 
get often depends on the questions you 
ask. Some characters are honest, some 
are deceitful and others are plain clue- 
less. It may take hours, and some nasty 
encounters, to distinguish between your 
allies and enemies. But the рауо is sure 
worth it. (For 
Mac and Win- 
dows, $50.) 


If you're wast- 
ing time and 
cash searching. 
the Web for 
cool and use- 
ful sights, 
check out Cy- 
bersearch. This 
handy CD- 
ROM lets you 
use key words 
to scrounge 
around offline through more than half a 
million Web locations. Scarch results 
come instantly and abundantly, and un- 
like online services, this option is never 
too busy. Subscribe to Cybersearch and 
you'll receive an updated disc every 
month. The CD-ROM comes bundled 
with a powerful Web browser that lets 
you organize your online life like a card 
file. And when you find a place on the 
disc worth visiting, a mouse click takes 
you there pronto. (By Frontier Tech- 
nologies, for Windows, about $60 for a 
six-issue subscription.) 


DIGITAL DUDS 


@ Multimedia Celebrity Poker: 


This title offers three good rea- 
sons for sticking to solitaire—Joe 
Piscopo, Morgan Foirchild and 
Jonathan Frakes, its Hollywood 
B-team stars. Piscopo's mugging 
is particulorly grating, which 
makes us wonder: What's next 
after he bombs on CD-ROM? 


The Joy of Sex: There's nothing 
joyous obout this translation to 
CD-ROM. Read the book. 


Mirage: Hallucinotion would 


have been a better name for this 
lukeworm desert mystery, which 
features bizorre imagery and in- 
audible audio thot feel like 
someone's bad trip. 


See what's hoppening on Playboy's 
Web Page at http://www.playboy.com. 


WHERE & HOW TO BUY ON PAGE 151 


25 


STYLE 


ON THE CUFF 


With the return to sophisticated menswear, 

cuff links are more stylish than ever. Here 

are some of our favorites: Alfred Dunhill's 

hexagon-shaped sterling silver cuff links 
($220) have a two-tone enamel finish. Colors 
include the blue-and-yellow combo pic- 
tured top right, as well as other mix- 


es of red, yellow, blue and green. 
For something more subtle, Eliza- 
beth Locke has combined 18-kt. gold and 
Venetian glass to create the elegant cuff links 
pictured top left and below right. Priced at 
ther smoky or clear glass. Carti- 
er’s collection of classic links 
includes knots in pure yellow, 
white and pink gold (about 
$3100). Mignon Faget goes 
classic as well with sterling silver 
or gold cuff links in crown and col- 
umn motifs ($75 to $900). For 
architechies, Emily Brooke Designs 
creates cuff links of finely etched sterling silver that 
resemble buildings. And Tino Cosma gives the accessory a 
whimsical spin, creating the navy enamel model with white 


HOT SHOPPING: MIAMI BEACH 


It's no secret that South Beach is a mecca for supermodels, 
but you may not be aware that it offers great guy shops, too. 


Area 51 (935 Wash- 
CLOTHES LINE 


ington Ave.): Club 

clothes for cyber- 

punks, including a Judge Reinhold, star of NBC's Rais- 

line of Label items ing Caines, is a retro freak. His fa- 

embossed with the vorite suit is a vintage Fifties white 

PLAYBOY logo. ө linen model that his 

Magazine (229 8th mother found ata Palm 
Beach estate sale. 
When he wears it with 


St.): High-end fash- 
his father’s brown- 


ion and accessories 

from Prada, Helmut 
and-white wing tip 
shoes, friends say he 


Lang and Dries Van 
resembles “an alco- 


Noten. * II Libra 
(629 Lincoln Rd.): 
Fine lines of boxers, holic doctor from a 
terry bathrobes and Tennessee Williams 
silk pajamas. e Post play.” Reinhold is also 
(836 Lincoln Rd): a big fan of Armani 
French and Italian suits. “1 would bathe in 
denims and leather them and wear them to 
Rugby brand bags the gym if 1 could," he 
from Canada. e De- says with a laugh. Oddly, he also 
goes for the “tacky tourist look." 
One of his favorite combinations, 


feature a man-in-the-moon design carved in ci- 


lano (1685 Collins 
Ave.) Hotelier Ian 


$1775 and $2000 per pair, respectively, they 
pin dots ($80) pictured at bottom left. 


CORDUROY IS HOT 


Eddie Vedder's penchant for corduroy seems to have 
rubbed off on fashion designers—the fabric is this sea- 
sor's top alternative to denim. Lucky Brand Dunga- 
rees offers a five-pocket relaxed jean in a thin-wale cor- 
duroy (about $70) as well as a peacoat in such colors as 
black, eggplant, gray and burgundy ($220). Diesel 


takes the retro route with its Italian-made ver- 
sion of button-front fitted corduroy jeans in 
black, white and a variety of pastels and bright 
colors ($120). Mossimo offers lightweight 
Bedford cord jeans in a fuller-cut, button-Ay 
style ($54) and a zip-Ay, slim-cut one ($50). 
Both are available in stone, tobacco and 
black. Marithé & Frangois Girbaud's Brand 

X jeans (about $80) come in plush corduroy 
that has been stonewashed for softness. Colors 
include forest green and off-white. There's also 
a matching baseball jacket ($90). Nautica offers 

a long-sleeved thin-wale corduroy shirt in a 
navy-and-hunter black-watch plaid (about 
$80). And the J. Crew catalog has its own en- 
try—a corduroy snap-front jacket in moss or 
antique, a variation of khaki (about $100). 


Schrager's urban 
beach resort features 
the Blue Door, a 
restaurant co-owned 
Ly Madura. 


for example, is a red, white and blue 
Bermuda-short-and-shirt set with 
black socks, “1 call it high tack and 
make no apologies.” 


EAU D'AMOUR 


When shopping for Valentine's Day gifts, consid- 
er one of the hot new women's fragrances that 
are described as "transparent." These light and 
fresh scents are subtle and often colorless. One 
inviting example is Acqua di Giò, a soft floral 
fragrance by Armani that's newly arrived in 
the States. There's also Spring Fever by Ori- 
gins, a blend of fruit and floral notes, and 
Princess Marcella Borghese's Profumo di 
Montecatini, a woodsy, floral fragrance in- 
spired by a tiny spa in Italy. Also from 
/ Borghese, Il Bacio (the Kiss) is a warm, sexy 
scent that hints of violet and sandalwood. For 
something more potent, Karl Lagerfeld’s Sun 
Moon Stars is an exotic mix of peach, freesia, jas- 
mine and sandlewood in a decorative cobalt-blue 
bottle. And Elizabeth Arden has just come out wit 
True Love, a heady floral perfume with weddin, 
bands on the boule. Think of the message that will send. 


E Т E R 


i 


OUT 


Two- and three 


STYLES 


COLORS AND PATTERNS 


six-button double-breasteds nipped at the woist 


Novy; chorcoal gray and rich shodes of brown; 
stripes and glen plaids 


„button single-breasteds and 


Sloppy, oversize sock-style jackets; triple- 
plected trousers with billowing legs 


Hues such as teol blue, green or 
burgundy; large ploids 


mont 


Lightweight wool blends that can be worn ten 


Heavily textured fabrics such as bouclé or wool 
meltons; drapey crepes 


ths out of the year 


Where 8 How to Buy on page 151 


By DIGBY DIEHL 


AT THE BEGINNING ОГ The Web (Bantam) 
the pace is so leisurely that a reader 
could begin to wonder if Jonathan Kel- 
lerman has lost it. Not likely. His sto- 
ry about Dr. Alex Delaware's visit to a 
Micronesian island is drawn with such 
skilled ease that it seems churlish to 
mention that there's no real crime to 
grapple with until halfway through the 
book—just lots of ominous hints. But 
when Kellerman does spring the trap. 
the reader is ensnared in a web of inter- 
secting story lines that have snuck up 
around him. 

On a whim, Alex and his wife, Robin, 
accept the invitation of a Dr. Moreland 
to travel to Aruk, an island near Guam, 
to help the doctor organize a lifetime of 
research and clinical work, In addition 
to tending to the native population, Dr. 
Moreland has a large insectary of preda- 
tory insects. He reveals to Alex that a 
murder took place on the island that had 
connections with ritual cannibalism. 
Other visitors to the island reveal myste- 
rious personal details that make them 
sound as if they belong at a stormy castle 
in an Agatha Christie novel. When a na- 
tive girl is murdered on the beach (and 
Moreland's assistant is the prime sus- 
pect), Alex has to reconsider his illusions 
about this tropical haven. 

Although Kellerman specializes in sto- 
ries that concern child psychology or 
childhood revelations, in this 11th novel 
he focuses on the adult mind. The vi- 
cious murder hits this story with a real 
jolt and then Kellerman never stops 
pushing the suspense. 

The impressive lineup of new crime 
fiction this month also includes Nancy 
Taylor Rosenberg's newest book, Trial by 
Fire (Dutton), her fourth legal thriller 
featuring a strong female protagonist. In 
this case, she is Stella Cataloni, the ris- 
ing star in the Dallas district attorney's 
office. After winning an important mur- 
der conviction, Cataloni herself is ac- 
cused of murder. Someone has shot Tom 
Randall, Stella's high school sweetheart, 
whom she held responsible for the arson 
that killed her parents 16 years earli- 
er. Randall told authorities that Stella 
had set the fire. He would have been the 
lead witness at her trial, but the case 
was dropped when he suddenly disap- 
peared. When Randall turns up dead, 
the investigation into Stella's past re- 
opens old wounds. 

Drawing on her background as a cop 
and probation officer, Rosenberg moves 
her plot along with velocity and veri- 
similitude. Particularly fascinating is a 
virtual-reality re-creation of the night of 
the fire, made via a technique called 
forensic animation. Stella has blocked 


Kellerman spins The Web. 


Intrigue in the tropics, 
an erotic movie palace and a 
fateful journey Into the Wild. 


most of her memories of the blaze. In an 
effort to remember, she dons а pair of 
goggles equipped with teleprocessors to 
walk through a computer-gencrated re- 
enactment of that experience. 

Although subtitled “a novel of sus- 
pense,” Jack O'Connell's The Skin Palace 
(Mysterious Press) is more an intense 
psychological study than a crime story. 
In front of Herzog's Erotic Palace, a 
porno theater in a seedy section of a 
New England city called Quinsigamond, 
a four-way clash occurs among televan- 
gelists from Families United for Decency, 
mace-spraying feminists, a crowd of 
tomato-throwing locals and the police. 
Sylvia Krafft, a young photographer, is 
nearly trampled. She is rescued by ego- 
maniacal X-rated movie director Hugo 
Schick, who also owns Herzog's. Fasci- 
nated by the bizarre intersection of sex, 
film and crime, she finds herself drawn 
to Jakob Kinsky, the movie-loving son of 
the local syndicate boss. Like the noir 
classics that are the reference points for 
this novel, The Skin Palace explores a pe- 
culiar aesthetic derived from the thrill of 
fear and the unknown. 

Michacl Connelly established his cre- 
dentials as a crime novelist with four 
books featuring LAPD detective Harry 
Bosch. Now he turns to Jack McEvoy, 
a Rocky Mountain News crime reporter 
whose twin brother, a Denver homicide 
detective, is found dead, with a sup- 
posed suicide note written on his wind- 
shield. McEvoy discovers that his broth- 


er is just one of a series of cop suicides, 
each connected by a quotation from 
Edgar Allan Poc. The Poet (Little, Brown) 
is a deadly game with a serial cop killer 
that accelerates rapidly. 

‘Two different journeys are described 
in new nonfiction books. Jon Krakauer's 
Into the Wild (Villard) is the story of a 
young man named Chris McCandless, 
who abandoned a comfortable life in 
Washington, D.C. to experience nature 
at its most rugged. In April 1992 he en- 
tered the Alaskan wilderness alone, on 
foot, with a .22 rifle and a backpack con- 
taining ten pounds of rice. Inspired by 
the writing of Tolstoy and Thoreau, he 
wanted to live simply by hunting and 
foraging. Four months after he em- 
barked on his journey, his partially de- 
composed and emaciated body was 
found by moose hunters. 

After writing a magazine article about 
McCandless, Krakauer (who also wrote 
PLAYBOY's Fitness column for two years) 
found himself fascinated by the young 
man's obsessions and spent more than a 
year reconstructing the steps that led to 
his death. By sharing revelations about 
his own youth and his feelings for the 
wilderness, the author takes readers in- 
to the mind of McCandless. The book 
makes sense of the dreams and idealism 
behind a seemingly senseless death. 

Playing off the Rail (Random House) by 
David McCumber is the colorful tale of 
three-and-a-half months on the road as 
stakeholder for a professional pool hus- 
tler named Tony Annigoni. From the 
September afternoon when McCumber 
demands $15,000 in cash from an in- 
credulous teller at his bank to the end of 
an all-night game in January when they 
divide $13,200 in winnings, the two go 
on a pool-shooting tour across North 
America. This is the nonfiction version 
of The Hustler with a cast of players and 
railbirds whose private jargon would 
have made Damon Runyon proud. 

Annigoni plays in tournaments that 
auract the best players, and in down- 
town pool halls, while McCumber sweats 
and counts the money. Despite consider- 
able effort and skill, McCumber and An- 
nigoni divide only modest winnings after 
a long stretch of train rides and late 
nights. But McCumber emerges with a 
book destined to become a classic. 


BOOK BAG 


The Encyclopedia of Beer (Henry Holt), 
edited by Christine Rhodes: Nine writers 
celebrate beers and brewing with more 
than 900 entries that cover traditions, 
terminology, festivals and trivia 


28 


MEN 


ome of you remember Jack Webb 

as Sergeant Joe Friday on the TV 
show Dragnet. “Just the facts, ma'am,” 
Webb would often say, looking like a 
bloodhound on tranquilizers as he inter- 
viewed a witness or suspect. 

Just the facts? Let's start with some 
facts, my fellow bloodhounds, but let's 
skip the tranquilizers. I would like you to 
be awake for this one, because it isarı im- 
portant subject. 

Please read the facts listed below. Read 
them carefully and absorb what you 
read. Take it into your gut and heart as 
well as your brain. Then string these 
facts together and ask yourself what they 
mean for us, our children and our 
future: 

No other country in the world has a 
higher divorce rate than the U.S. Today, 
40 out of 100 first marriages end in di- 
vorce (compared with 16 out of 100 first 
marriages in 1960). 

The U.S. is the world's leader in fa- 
therless families. We took over first place 
from Sweden in 1986. 

Some 40 percent of America's chil- 
dren do not live with their biological 
fathers. 

It is estimated that 55 percent to 60 
percent of all children born in the 
Nineties will spend part of their child- 
hood living apart from their fathers. 

In 1960 the number of children living 
in single-parent families was about 5 mil- 
lion. Today, the number is 18 million. 
(The total number of children has grown 
from 63.7 million in 1960 to 66.9 million 
in 1993.) 

In a study of living arrangements for 
both black and white children from 1960 
to 1993, the number of children living 
with only their fathers was 3.5 percent. 

Some 40 percent of the children who 
live with their mothers have not seen 
their fathers in at least a year. More than 
50 percent of those children have never 
been in their father's home. 

One fifth of divorced mothers see no 
value in a father’s contact with his chil- 
dren. Of that number, many try to sabo- 
tage the father's attempts to see his chil- 
dren (by sending the children away 
before the father arrives, insisting the 
child is too ill to see him, claiming the 
child has homework to do, etc.). 

Twenty-six percent of absent fathers 
live in a state different from their chil- 
dren's place of residence. 

Seventy-two percent of adolescent 


By ASA BABER 


JUST 
THE FACTS 


murderers grew up without fathers. 

Sixty percent of America's rapists grew 
up without their fathers. 

Seventy percent of the juveniles in 
state reform institutions grew up in sin- 
gle-parent or no-parent situations. 

Fatherless children are twice as likely 
to drop out of school as their peers who 
live with both parents. 

Children who exhibit violent behavior 
in school are 11 times as likely not to live 
with both parents. 

Children from low-income, two-par- 
ent families outperform those from 
high-income, single-parent homes. Al- 
most twice as many high achievers come 
from two-parent homes. 

Some 1.6 million children ages 5 to 14 
return from school to a home that is ab- 
sent of adults. 

Children, particularly boys, from di- 
vorced families score lower on average 
on reading and math tests. 

Between 1960 and 1988, the teenage 
suicide rate tripled. 

Three out of four teen ides occur 
in households where a parent is absent. 

Fatherless children are at a dramati- 
cally greater risk of suicide (as well as 
mental illness, drug and alcohol abuse, 
poor academic performance, pregnancy 
and criminality). 

Children living apart from their bio- 
logical fathers experience more acciden- 


tal injuries, asthma, headaches and 
speech defects. 

Eighty percent of adolescents in psy- 
chiatric hospitals come from broken 
homes. 

A study of preschool children admit- 
ted to New Orleans hospitals as psychi- 
atric patients found, again, that nearly 
80 percent came from fatherless homes 

Fatherless children are five times 
more likely to live in poverty than chil- 
dren living with both parents. 

One of every four children growing 
up in the Nineties will eventually enter a 
stepfamily. 1 estimated that nearly 
half of all children in stepfamilies will see 
their parents divorce again by the time 
they reach their late teens. 

In America’s most distressed neigh- 
borhoods, more than 40 percent of fam- 
ilies are headed by single women. 

In 1960 5.3 percent of all live births 
were to unwed mothers. In the Nineties 
30 percent of all live births are to unwed 
mothers. By the year 2000, 40 percent of 
American children will be born out of 
wedlock. 

Only one in six children of divorced or 
separated parents sees the father at least 
once a week. Ten years after divorce, on- 
ly one in ten children has weekly contact 
with the father. More than two thirds of 
these kids have no contact with their 
fathers. 

Roughly 75 percent of American chil- 
dren living in single-parent families will 
experience poverty before they are 11 
years old. 

More than nine of ten stepchildren 
live with their biological mother and 
stepfather. 

When asked to name the “adults you 
look up to and admire,” 20 percent of 
children in single-parent families named 
their fathers (compared with 52 percent. 
of children in two-parent families). 

Those are some of the facts. If we do 
not change them for the better—and 
soon—we will not have a society worth 
living in. 

My special thanks to Dr. Wade Horn, 
director of the National Fatherhood Ini- 
tiative in Lancaster, Pennsylvania, for his 
publication Father Facts. That booklet was 
the primary source for this column. 

Before it's too late, let's bring fathers 
back into the American family. 


WOMEN 


I went shopping today. It was heaven. 
Such a relief, going into a giant de- 
partment store, combing through tights, 
feeling the different textures Of scarves 
between my fingertips, trying on jackets 
and dresses slowly and deliberately, do- 
ing my world-famous Marilyn-Monroe- 
orracid poses in front of the mirror. 

It’s way more fun than being on 
testosterone. 

I don't see how men do it, having such 
a hormone pumping through their bod- 
ies day and (especially) night. How do 
guys ever think? Or choose, or ponder, 
or find underwear? 

Why only yesterday afternoon, 1 al- 
most committed girl felony. I was at my 
close friend Lucy's for tea and ended up 
next to her husband, Paul, on the sofa. It 
is a small sofa. 1 have always known the- 
oretically that Paul is an attractive fel- 
low—beautiful greeny-blue eyes, thick 
brown hair shot with red and gold, tall, 
muscula—uh шу Gud. Paul sat inches 
from me. He was watching football. It 
took all my strength to keep my hand 
from running over his thigh. Fantastical- 
ly detailed sexual fantasies went straight 
from my brain to my groin. 1 believe 1 
began panting. 

By now 1 have every confidence that 
you are asking yourself, “What the 
fuck?” 

I'm glad you asked. I was on a book 
tour—buy my new book, please, please, 
please, so the dogs won't starve—and a 
few months ago I was in Australia, where 
I met some fabulous lesbians who told 
me about the joys of taking testosterone. 
They said it made you all horny and ag- 
gressive and, well, manly. I was riveted. 
Who knew that people could take testos- 
terone? Naturally, I wanted some imme- 
diately. I could find out what makes guys 
guys. Have the kind ofbrain that can ac- 
tually understand what a carburetor 
does. Differentiate my right brain from 
my left. Be (he sort of person who says 
he's going to call and then doesn't. 

Back in Los Angeles my doctor said 
that a day or two of wearing a testos- 
terone patch would not cause me to 
grow a beard or anything. And he gave 
me a prescription for testosterone patch- 
es. Yes! 

The pharmacist looked at me kind of 
funny. 1 paid her and took the patches 
home, went into the bathroom, applied 
them to my skin and heated them up, as 
directed, with a hair drier and waited. 


By CYNTHIA HEIMEL 


MY LIFE 
AS A MAN 


The stuff hit me while 1 was sitting at 
the computer. Suddenly the screen was 
all bright and the rest of the room 
looked darker. I shook my head, con- 
fused. Shook it again. Everything still 
looked weird. 1 wondered if I had a 
brain tumor. Wherever I looked, things 
were either bright or dark. No modula- 
tion, just high contrast, very weird. 

Then the guys came over to watch 
football. Forced me to drink beer, eat 
those horrible orange corn chips. The 
beer bored me, but the football game 
was infinitely more interesting. My gut 
twitched sideways when the quarterback 
was sacked, My quarterback. He was my 
guy, part of my gang. Nobody had better 
fuck with him. And when my team won, 
I couldn't recognize myself. Normally. 
when they show the losing team on TV I 
worry about them. 1 want them to feel 
better. Not now. Now I wanted them an- 
nihilated, even more. 

We went out to a nightclub to see if 1 
suddenly wanted to pick up broads. I 
didn’t, All my mounting lust was direct- 
ed toward men. ? 

I was quite fabulous at that bar. Every- 
thing I said was smart, witty, important, 
cogent. I had many fascinating stories to 
tell. I knew that everyone was interested, 
that my perceptions were more fascinat- 
ing than anyone else's. In some deep 
cavity of my brain 1 wondered if this was 


simply the testosterone, but it couldn't 
be. 1 was just too brilliant, that's all. 

1 drove home and wanted anyone who 
cut me off on the freeway immediately 
dead. I reveled in the power of my truck. 
1 was bigger and faster than anyone. 

I got home and phoned my son. 

"Call me Dad," I said. 

“Geta life,” he sai 

The next morning I was really surly. 
Nobody could do anything right. The 
cellular phone company tried to fuck 
with me. They didn't get away with it. I 
wasn't in the mood to cuddle the dogs. 
I was tired of my new weird eyesight, 
bored with everyone phoning and as 


And my lust was growing. Usually I 
feel lust when there is reason to feel lust: 
during sex. Watching Dennis Quaid in 
The Big Easy. Eating large carrots. But 
now my lust was constant, just sitting 
there in my body, waiting for something 
to attach it to. The guy doing the weath- 
er on TV looked great. The UPS man, a 
weedy little weirdo, took on an interest- 
ing vibe. And then Paul, my friend’s hus- 
band, put me over the top. 

I tore myself away from Paul. Drove 
home sweaty and nauseated. Knocked 
over a couple of my neighbors’ trash 
cans as I swung my truck into the drive- 
way. Ran into the house and sat down on 
the floor as a wave of dizziness careened 
through my head. 

Horrible stuff! Not funny anymore. 
No wonder teenage boys go goofy and 
violent, with this drive suddenly coming 
upon them. This stuff needs major mi- 
cromanagement. It’s something that 
swings your mind around, whether you 
want it to or not. All women should try it 
for a day to see what men deal with. All 
men should try estrogen once or twice, 
maybe when they decorate their houses. 

I pulled up my skirt, ready to rip off 
those pesky patches. (Maybe I shouldn't 
have used three when I was told to use 
one. I was never any good at following 
drug directions.) 

But I stopped. I had one more thing 
to do. I went into the bedroom and mas- 
turbated. A harsh, really short orgasm. 
Like ten seconds instead of a minute 
Or so. 

Ten seconds. What's the point? 


29 


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Mr 1 had a dime for every time I've been 
told “You're the nicest guy I've ever met" 
or “You'll make some woman very happy 
someday," I'd be able to retire the na- 
tional debt. Once you're labeled a nice 
guy, it's like you have a disease. Why do 
women prefer jerks who treat them bad- 
ly? Even worse, who do you think they 
complain to about Jerk Man? You 
guessed it. Help! —L.M., New Orleans, 
Louisiana. 

Take heart. Nice girls do fuck nice guys. 
They're only toying with Jerk Man, who will 
die angry, bitter and heartbroken (say that 
aloud—it feels good). Nice guys, on the oth- 
er hand, are like annuities: We pay off in the 
long run. So when does а nice guys luck 
turn? The moment he stops being a schmuck. 
If you're hot for a woman and she doesn't re- 
spond except lo bend your eai, find a smarter 
woman. Many nice girls share your frustra- 
tions, by the way, wondering why guys drool 
over bitchy bimbos at the bar while ignoring 
the adventurous, sexy woman who lives next 
door. There's probably a nice girl in the 
wings of your life waiting for you to stop 
whining about all the women who think 
you're a nice guy. 


ve heard that sex and chocolate pro- 
duce the same chemical reaction in the 
brain. Is that true?—PC., Boise, Idaho. 
If she’s naked, walking toward you and 
drenched in the stuff, you bet. Chocolate con- 
tains an antidepressant (phenylethylamine) 
that’s also found in the pleasure center of the 
brain (it’s the chemical responsible for that 
euphoric feeling you get when you fall in 
love). During orgasm, your PEA level rises 
sharply—even if you haven't just downed a 
handful of green M&M's. Inspired by sur- 
veys that reveal that many people crave 
chocolate more than sex, cosmetics compa- 
nies have marketed chocolate body paint and 
chocolate-scented perfume and bubble bath, 
among other sensual products. Not that any 
of this is news. Centuries ago, the Aztec em- 
peror Montezuma H supposedly consumed 
50 cups of chocolate a day because of its rep- 
ulation as a sexual stimulant. We doubt it 
gave him more than a massive headache, 
Still, play it safe and take along condoms 
when you deliver that heart-shaped box. 


IM, boyfriend keeps telling me he's 
going to give me a pearl necklace for 
Valentine's Day, but I don't think he 
means jewelry. Is this a sexual refer- 
ence?—K.M., Upton, Massachusetts. 
Sounds like you snagged quite the roman- 
tic. In sexual slang, a pearl necklace refers 
to what happens when a man comes on a 
woman's neck, either after fellatio or while 
sliding his erection between her breasts. 


We've heard there's birth control that 
can be taken after sex. Is that true? My 


girlfriend and J had a scare after a con- 
dom broke, so we're curious about any 
safety valves out there.—R.W. and PG., 
Oakland, Californi 
Given our culture’s reliance on pills to 
battle everything from tension headaches to 
lackluster personalities, i's surprising that 
we haven't embraced more drugs that combat. 
Ihe serious social problem of unwanted preg- 
nancy. Last year, six reproductive-health ex- 
perts published "Emergency Contraception: 
The Nation's Best-Kept Secret," which ex- 
plains three liitle-known but legal methods 
The first, a combination of birth control pills 
taken within 72 hours after unprotected sex, 
can improve a woman's chances of not gel- 
ling pregnant by at least 75 percent (the 
drugs prevent the fertilized egg from im- 
planting in the uterus). The other two are a 
copper-T intrauterine device inserted by a 
doctor within seven days afier intercourse, 
and minipills—birth control that doesn't 
contain estrogen. These methods are not well 
known, the aulhors say, largely because drug 
companies aren't eager to market products 
that stop pregnancies. after fertilization 
occurs. The irony is that widespread use 
could cut the need for abortion considerably. 
The book identifies 1500 physicians and 
clinics that provide legal morning-after con- 
traceptives (to order a copy of the book, call 
800-721-6990). A list of providers is also 
available on the World Wide Web at hitp:// 
opr.princeton.edu/ecfec. html. 


IM, girlfriend loves oral sex, but I 
don't like the taste of her vaginal fluid. I 
once left the bedroom to clean up after 
she reached orgasm and she got upset. 1 
don't know why I'm so squeamish. Is this 
sort of reaction abnormal?—L.M., 
Boston, Massachusetts 


ILLUSTRATION BY ISTVAN BANYAI 


No, but most men get over it the moment 
they elicit that first moan of pleasure. Before 
we offer a practical suggestion, reconsider 
your attitude toward a natural substance 
that is mostly water, low in calories and was 
once revered in the Far East as an elixir. (You 
may not live forever licking her clitoris, but 
you can make time stop.) We can understand 
your girlfriend's reaction to your skipping 
out of the room as if you had eaten a bad oys- 
ter. Who wouldn't be offended? Next time 
down, place a warm, wet washcloth under or 
near the bed. Dive into cunnilingus enthusi- 
astically, and after she reaches orgasm and 
falls back on the pillow to collect herself, dis- 
стеейу wipe your mouth and chin, This 
method works all the better if you're still un- 
der the covers—and she's busy thanking you. 


A fter a recent lovemaking session, I 
told my girlfriend that her vagina 
seemed warmer than usual and that it 
left my penis feeling very hot. She 
poured a glass of ice water (we were in 
the kitchen foraging for food) and said 
playfully, “Let me cool it off for you." 
She then reached inside my boxers, took 
out my cock and submerged it in the 
glass. 1 shivered like a madman but im- 
mediately got another erection. I lifted 
her onto the counter and reentered her 
She said her pussy felt like an oven that 
was melting me. After a few minutes, 1 
withdrew and gave myself another dous- 
ing. We kept going for a good 20 min- 
utes before she came. What do you 
think?—].M., Buffalo, New York. 

We've always loved sex on Ihe rocks. Why 
not add a chill to foreplay as well? Have 
your girlfriend lie on her back, then draw an 
ice cube gently across her body. Touch the ice 
to her nipples, to her vulva, to the bottoms of 
her feet. Place a small cube between your 
tecth and tease her clitoris, When she can't 
take anymore, hand over the reins. Years 
ago, one female reader told us that she en- 
joyed putting crushed ice in her cheeks before 
giving her boyfriend a blow job. As the ice 
melted, the water cascading down his erec- 
tion caused quile a sensation. 


A year after graduating with an ad- 
vanced degree, I'm living with my par- 
ents and working as a temp. My friends 
have urged me to move to a larger city 
and hit the bricks. 1 know many people 
my age have done this, but what kind of 
plan do you suggest?—L.]., Louisville, 
Kentucky. 

If you've been living at home, you proba- 
Му have a cash cushion to tide you over for a 
few months. If not, get cracking. Make find- 
ing a decent apartment your first priority. A 
serious job search can take time and energy 
(sometimes more than a job itself), and hav- 
ing a confortable place 10 relax will help 
keep your spirits up. Because you're already 


31 


PLAYBOY 


32 


working as a temp, ask your agency if it has 
a branch in the city where you're relocating. 
Someone тау be able to schedule an assign- 
ment for you. That will provide rent money, 
and you'll probably have access to a fax ma- 
chine, a computer, a phone and a network of 
co-workers who have overcome the same 
challenges you're facing. 


Because I'm in a long-distance rela- 
tionship, I use a vibrator nearly every 
day. Will overuse desensitize my vul- 
va?—D.P, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. 
Most women find that the more they use a 
vibrator, the more challenging it can be lo 
reach orgasm with one. You can remedy the 
situation by varying your routine. Bring 
yourself to the brink of orgasm with the vi- 
rator, then use your hand to take you over 
the edge. Or start with yowr hand, finish 
with the vibrator. Change your position 
(walk around, sit in a chair, roll to your 
knees). Call your boyfriend and ask him to 
tease you by taking control of your pleasure: 
At his command, you have to turn off the vi- 
brator and stimulate yourself some other 
way; when he says so, you can rev it back up. 


Can you get herpes if someone who 
has a cold sore gives you head?—O.D., 
Cincinnati, Ohio. 

Yes. The strain of herpes that causes cold 
sores has also been identified as the root of 20 
percent to 30 percent of genital herpes cases, 
suggesting these viruses were contracted 
through oral sex. The good news, if you can 
call it that, is: Research indicates that geni- 
tal herpes contracted through oral sex reacti- 
vates far less often (if ever) than herpes 
spread through intercourse. While not every 
fever blister or canker sore is a sign of her- 
pes, hold off on oral sex until it heals. Open 
sores or culs in the mouth are also a route by 
which the AIDS virus can spread. 


IV, pas relationships have been sen- 
sual, long-term affairs. 1 definitely push 
the envelope in bed. However, nothing 1 
do seems to inspire my new boyfriend. I 
rent videos, but he doesn't want to watch 
them. I buy books and they sit on the 
shelf unopened. I've asked him to per- 
form cunnilingus on me, but he has only 
half-attempted twice. I try to talk to him 
about it, but he just waves me off. I know 
he's from the Midwest, but give me a 
break. He never seems to protest the fast 
and furious blow jobs or two-hour mas- 
sages I give him. I'm trying to save this 
one. What's a liberated woman to do?— 
T.R., Houston, Texas. 
Move on. 


Wa March, a buddy will celebrate 40 
years of marriage. We would like to re- 
create the bachelor party we threw for 
him in 1956, complete with some black- 
and-white stag films. Is there any way I 
can get these classics?—N.A., Topeka, 
Kansas. 

There sure is, and the reels are as grainy 


and unerotic as you remember. A wide vari- 
ety of vintage stag films have been collected 
and transferred to video. For starters, sample 
a later volume of Video Specialists Interna- 
tional's “What Got Grandpa Hot” (717- 
675-0227) or Something Weird Video's 
“Grandpa Bucky” series (206-361-3759). If 
the blue bug really bites, Filmfare Video Labs 
stocks 70 similar tapes (800-344-2992). As 
we explained here last month, however, many 
mail-order distributors not ship adult 
videos to certain federal districts for fear of 
harassment by overzealous prosecutors. Un- 
fortunately, this includes Kansas. 


What are the differences among VS, 
VSOP and XO cognacs?—J.S., Fresno, 
California. 

The higher the grade of cognac, the older 
the blend; the more flavor and color it ab- 
sorbs from the oak barrel, the smoother it 
tastes. Although French law sets minimum 
standards for the aging required in cach 
grade, the four major cognac houses raise 
the bar higher. In general, the cognacs used 
1o create Very Special blend have been aged 
an average of five years, those used for Very 
Superior Old Pale 10 to 12 years, Napoléon 
20 to 25 years, eXtra Old 35 to 40 years and 
premium brands such as Hennessy's Paradis 
55 10 60 years. 


Ive noticed in adult magazines that 
oral, anal and vaginal penetration is al- 
most always blocked out with a black dot. 
Why is this?—PT., Dayton, Ohio. 

When a magazine places a black dot over 
penetration, it’s covering its ass. There are 
no specific federal regulations that require 
this censorship, but in many locales a dot, a 
star or even a red circle around the word 
Gulp! means the difference between harm- 
lessly erotic and illegally obscene. Because 
the defense against an obscenity charge is to 
argue that a work has some literary, scien- 
tific, artistic, political or social value taken 
as a whole, a photo excised from a magazine 
or film for use in an advertisement loses the 
benefit of that context. That makes it all the 
more difficult to defend. Who needs the has- 
sle, especially when censorship can be an ef- 
fective marketing tool? No matter what's un- 
der it, the dol leaves the impression that 
you're missing out on something very, very 
naughty. 


V have always longed to be able to have 
my husband suckle my breasts, but I 
would prefer to avoid the inconvenience 
of having a baby. Can it be done?—L.L., 
Baltimore, Maryland. 

Some women can achieve lactation with 
constant and prolonged manual and oral 
stimulation of the nipples, but few have the 
patience, and the results (besides leaving you 
sore) will probably be disappointing. Long 
ago, nannies served as wet nurses for other 
women's newborns, but they did this by con- 
tinuing breast stimulation after weaning 
their own infants. Your desires are not un- 
usual: Many women become aroused during 


breast-feeding. But forcing lactation for 
someone who doesn't need the milk sounds 
like more trouble than it’s worth. 


A visiting client suggested we have 
lunch at a strip club. Is this a good place 
to take a client, or should I have suggest- 
ed an alternative?—L.H., Dallas, Texas. 

It depends on what you plan to talk about. 
Many clubs cater 10 executives, and the dis- 
tractions they provide can encourage quick 
decisions ("let's gel this over with. . . ."). On 
the other hand, we can think of easier places 
to make a sales pitch—if you think he's dis- 
tracted when the restaurant bar has a game 
on ТИ wait until a topless dancer grinds her 
navel in his face. Half the salesmen surveyed 
recently by “Sales & Marketing Manage- 
ment” magazine said they had entertained a 
client at a topless club; most said it wasn't 
their idea but that they considered it part of. 
doing business. 


ast night when my husband and I 
were opening responses to our ad in 
a swingers’ magazine, he went pale as a 
ghost. One letter included a photo of a 
nude woman, and it was his sister. We 
had no idea she and her new husband 
were swingers and we don't think she 
knows we are (we use a pseudonym in 
our ads). My husband says we should re- 
turn the letter and photo marked "not 
interested" and say nothing more. I ar- 
gue that we should discuss the situation 
with them, because our paths are sure to 
cross and that would be more uncom- 
fortable. I'm not suggesting that we 
swing with them, but perhaps they could 
benefit from our experience. What do 
you think?—M. J., New York, New York. 

Small world, eh? Acknowledge the letter 
for exactly the reason you state. Rather than 
senda written reply, invite your sister-in-law 
and her husband to dinner. Don't reveal 
your shared lifestyle with the idea that they 
might benefit from your experience—who 
says they're beginners? Simply explain that 
you wanted to acknowledge the unusual sit- 
uation in a comfortable, familiar setting 
rather than after rounding the corner at a 
party. Then have a good laugh. It's a great 
story, after all, and your husband couldn't 
buy a better opening line than “Say. do you 
know my sister?" 


All reasonable questions—from fashion, food 
and drink, stereo and sports cars to dating 
problems, taste and ctiquette—will be per- 
sonally answered if the writer includes a 
stamped, self-addressed envelope. The most 
provocative, pertinent questions will be pre- 
sented in these pages each month. Send all 
letters to the Playboy Advisor, PLAYBOY, 680 
North Lake Shore Drive, Chicago, Illinois 
60611, or by e-mail to advisor@playboy. 
com. Look for responses to our mosi fre- 
quently asked questions on the World Wide 
Web at http://urun.playboy.com/fag/fag html. 


THE PLAYBOY FORUM 


Т Computers Hu: Ёк 


how private is private in the digital age? 


Privacy has always been a vital issue 
in American social and political life, 
and the widespread use of computers 
has made it even more so. We asked 
André Bacard (abacard@well.com), 
author of The Computer Privacy Hand- 
book, to discuss the state of privacy in 
the digital age. The exchange took 
place via electronic mail, so millions 
of you may have already read this. 


PLAYBOY: What is your definition 
of privacy? 

mACARD: Privacy is the ability to 
control what, when and how 
your personal data is given to 
other people. Powerful institu- 
tions believe their right to priva- 
cy has a bona fide basis (for 
instance, "national security" or 
“trade secrets”), while the indi- 
vidual's claim to privacy is suspi- 
cious and subject to these insti- 
tutions’ veto. For me, privacy is 
a necessary part of democracy. 
That's why we vote with secret 
ballots. 

playboy: Do you find that most 
Americans share your concerns 
about privacy? 

naca: F think Americans place 
a high value on privacy. They 
just don't know how to protect 
themselves. Movies such as The 
Net show people how easily their 
privacy can be invaded but offer 
no solutions. 

PLAYBOY: Yet many people read- 
ing this may be thinking, So what? 1 
have nothing to hide. 

BACARD: Show me someone who has 
no financial, sexual, social, political or 
professional secrets to keep from his 
family, neighbors or colleagues, and 
I'll show you someone who is either 
an exhibitionist or a dullard. Show 
me a corporation that has no trade se- 
crets or confidential records, and ГЇЇ 
show you a business that isn't very 
successful. Discretion and tact are pil- 
lars of. ion. 

PLAYBOY: Do Americans have a double 
standard about privacy? 


BACARD: Many do. Dan Quayle was 
upset when Business Week obtained his 
credit report. Is he equally upset 
when his family's newspapers investi- 
gate the finances of public figures? 
George Bush complained bitterly that 
the press snooped into his family af- 
fairs. Yet, is Bush, a former director of 
the CIA, as morally repulsed when 
that agency intrudes into people's 
lives? President Clinton criticized the 


tabloids for exposing his sexual af- 
fairs. But at the same time, he sup- 
ported the clipper chip, which would 
have given the government access to 
all online communications and was a 
huge threat to privacy. Most of us feel 
it is our natural right to search our 
childrer's closets, but we are shocked 
when our children snoop through 
our belongings. 

PLAYBOY: If you were Big Brother and 
wanted to create a surveillance soci- 
ety, where would you begin? 

BACARD: I would start by creating 
dossiers on kindergarten children so 


that the next generation could not 
comprehend a world vithout surveil- 
lance. I'd also scare the public with 
stories about terrorists, pedophiles 
and drug dealers. In fact, that's exact- 
ly what's going on right now. 
PLAYBOY: But Americans want Uncle 
Sam to protect them from criminals. 
How do we balance these two expec- 
tations—that the government will 
catch bad guys and won't violate any- 
one's privacy in the process? 
BACARD: Government surveil- 
lance is justified when there is 
evidence that someone is plan- 
ning or has committed a serious 
felony, such as a bombing. At the 
same time, police agencies have 
always used private data about 
people in order to squash dis- 
sent. A Russian dissident told 
me that he once asked a KGB 
agent why he spent so much 
time tailing him. The agent 
shrugged and said, "We dont 
have computers like the CIA." 
Computers help snoops because 
they have huge, reliable memo- 
ries, they're unforgiving, they 
allow sophisticated memory 
searches and their records are 
easily and cheaply transferable. 
PLAYBOY: In 1994 Congress 
passed and President Clinton 
signed the Digital Telephony 
Act, which ensures that the FBI 
and other agencies will someday 
have the technical ability to 
wiretap phones by remote control. 
What is your take on this? 

sacar: Each year there are roughly 
1000 court-authorized wiretaps in the 
U.S. Does Big Brother need the pow- 
er to wiretap 250 million people in 
order to catch 1000 mafiosi, drug 
dealers and pedophiles? No. This law 
will cost taxpayers at least $500 mil- 
lion, which is the down payment 
needed to reengineer the nation's 
telecommunications systems for these 
kinds of wiretaps. 

PLAYBOY: How about the National 
Crime Information Center? 


33 


34 


BACARD: The NCIC is the FBI's data- 
base. Before privacy advocates protest- 
ed, the FBI had proposed an updated 
version that would tie into the comput- 
ers used by airlines, banks, car-rental 
companies, credit bureaus, the IRS 
and phone companies. If this isn't a 
surveillance state, what is? 

PLAYBOY: The Supreme Court has 
ruled in several privacy cases that peo- 
ple have “a diminished expectation of 
privacy in some situations.” That is, if 
you give your name to a department 
store or travel agency, the court might 
argue that living in a digital age means 
you can't expect it to remain private. 
BACARD: The "diminished expectation 
of privacy" is a power game. Say a cor- 
poration gives its employecs the im- 
pression that their voice mail is private. 
But when an employee discovers that 
his boss reads his electronic mail, the 
corporation says, "You should have 
known that e-mail is not private." How 
are employees supposed to know? 
PLAYBOY: Is the solution never to give 
anyone any information that might be 
entered in a computer database? That 
seems impossible. 

BACARD: That's why we must persuade 
legislators and the Supreme Court to 
have more respect for our privacy. It is 
possible for each of us to reduce the 
amount of data that we give out, but it 
will take thought and sacrifice. 
PLAYBOY: Is it really that easy for some- 
one to get information about us, or does 
it take the resources of James Bond? 
BACARD: Learning to run a computer 
program can take a bit of work, but 
James Bond skills aren't needed. To 
make a point, the editors of Macworld 
recently investigated a group of promi. 
nent Americans, people who usually 
take more steps than the average citi- 
zen to hide personal information. Us- 
ing a budget of $100 per person, Mac- 
world editors sought all legally 
accessible data from four commercial 
and two governmental data suppliers. 
In addition, the magazine inspected 
freely available public records. The ed- 
itors were able to obtain birth dates, 
civil court filings, commercial loans 
and debts, corporate ties, driving rec- 
ords, home phone numbers and ad- 
dresses, marriage records, neighbors" 
addresses and telephone numbers, real 
estate records, Social Security num- 
bers, tax liens and vehicle and voter 
registrations. 

Not so long ago, only a few private 
detectives knew these tricks. When the 
common criminal becomes computer- 
literate, America will be in trouble. 
PLAYBOY: Besides the government, who 
are the foremost enemies of privacy? 


BACARD: In America, mass marketers, 
credit bureaus, employment agencies 
and data peddlers assert that personal 
data is an economic commodity that 
belongs to thern. They claim that the 
First Amendment gives them the right 
to trade or sell your personal data be- 
cause you gave it to some department. 
store or travel agency. 

PLAYBOY: You've said that computers 
make it easier for people to snoop. 
How easy is it for someone to read your 
electronic mail? 

BACARD: What if the Postal Service were 
to photocopy all of your incoming and 
outgoing mail and store it for six 
months? You would be alarmed. How- 
ever, this is common practice for e-mail 
providers, In addition, e-mail snoops 
can easily scan your mail for “subver- 


sive” key words such as sex, marijuana, 
maybe even PLAYBOY. 

PLAYBOY: Who are these snoops? 
BACARD: Many times they're employers. 
One survey of businesses found that 
roughly 25 percent admitted that they 
eavesdrop on their employees’ com- 
puter files, e-mail or voice mail. E-mail 
sent over the Internet is child’s play to 
intercept. The typical message travels 
through many computers before 
reaching its destination. Of course, 
most snoops will deny they're reading 
your e-mail because they want to con- 
tinue doing so. 

PLAYBOY: Can't you delete the e-mail 
you've sent or received to prevent oth- 
ers from seeing it? 

BACARD: Many Internet providers and 
network administrators store incoming 


COLE — 5$ 


and outgoing mail even after you think 
you've deleted it. This is what hap- 
pened, ironically, to the Reagan and 
Bush administrations over Iran-contra. 
Oliver North deleted electronic mail, 
but the e-mail lived on and last year 
was published as a book. 

PLAYBOY: Is there any way to keep your 
e-mail away from snooping eyes? 
pacaro: I suggest that people learn to 
use PGP (pretty good privacy) encryp- 
tion software, which scrambles and un- 
scrambles data. For example, PGP can 
encrypt “André” so that it appears as 
“457MRTROS54. ” If you have PGP, 
you can then decrypt that code back in- 
to “André.” Until recently, government 
agencies such as the National Security 
Agency had a monopoly on encryp- 
tion. Personal computers make it possi- 
ble for everyone to use encryption, 
which is how it should be. Thomas Jef- 
ferson was an amatcur cryptographer. 
He developed a private crypto system 
with James Madison, and he invented 
an elaborate wheel cipher. No doubt 
King George's allies considered Jeffer- 
son suspicious, if not criminal, for hid- 
ing his diplomatic thoughts. 

PLAYBOY: Do a lot of people use encryp- 
tion? Our impression has always been 
that it’s a hassle. 

BACARD: It's not if you have something 
you want to keep from prying eyes. 
Politicians running election campaigns, 
citizens storing tax records, therapists 
protecting clients’ files, entrepreneurs 
guarding trade secrets, journalists pro- 
tecting their sources and people seck- 
ing romance are a few of those who use 
it. Suppose you're a manager and you 
need to e-mail an employee about his 
job performance. You may be required 
by law to keep the letter confidential. 
Encryption also helps secure online 
financial transactions. And yes, crimi- 
nals use encryption, but they're more 
likely to use cars, gloves and ski masks 
to evade capture. Should we restrict or 
outlaw those items? 

PLAYBOY: Is encryption foolproof? 
BACARD: An agency with multimillion- 
dollar supercomputers, crypto experts 
and a burning desire to spy on you 
could probably break your code and 
read your mail. But your boss, friend, 
online provider or neighborhood 
hacker has zero chance. Using encryp- 
tion protects your privacy far better 
than not using it 

PLAYBOY: We see your point. But we 
can't help fecling this all sounds overly 
dramatic. Some people might even see 
it as paranoid. 

BACARD: 1 don't have any patience for 
paranoia; it immobilizes people. But 
everyone should be aware. 


DIGITAL PRIVACY TIPS 


ANONYMOUS REMAILERS 

Ап anonymous remailer strips your 
return address from electronic mail 
to protect your identity. It also al- 
lows other online users to reply to 
your messages anonymously. There 
are about a dozen free public re- 
mailer services on the Internet, but. 
none are foolproof. If you're blow- 
ing the whistle on your boss, for in- 
stance, he or she can see your mes- 
sages en route to the remailer if 
you're using your work account. Re- 
mailers have also been compro- 
mised during police investigations. 
A list of public remailers, along wich 
instructions on how to use them, are 
available by pointing your World 
Wide Web browser to http://www. 
cs.berkeley.edu/—raph/remail- 
erlist.html. 


CORDLESS PHONES 

It’s illegal to eavesdrop on cellular 
phone conversations, but since 
when has that stopped a deter- 
mined snoop with a scanner? Newer 
900 MHz digital phones are less vul- 
nerable. If you're using a cellular 
phone—and 20 million Americans 
do—ask your service provider if it 


offers encryption. 


ELECTRONIC MAIL 

Before you sign on to any online 
service, read the consent agreement 
carefully. Some providers reserve 
the right to inspect e-mail messages 
without notice. If you're using an 
account provided by your employer, 
your e-mail is probably not consid- 
ered private. 

Also know that while your e-mail 
account may be secure, the people 
you're corresponding with may not 
be so fortunate. And most e-mail 
messages that are sent over the In- 
ternet bounce around before being 
delivered, allowing hackers and 
snoops plenty of opportunity to in- 
tercept them. 


ENCRYPTION 

André Bacard's Privacy Page (point 
your Web browser to http://www. 
well.com/user/abacard) includes an 
introduction to using PGP (Pretty 
Good Privacy). This free software 


can be downloaded from http:// 
web.mit.edu/network/pgp.html. If 
you prefer point-and-click, Via 
Crypt offers a Windows and Mac in- 
terface for about $125 (800-536- 
2664), and there are several less ex- 
pensive freeware and shareware 
shells floating around the Net. 


PASSWORDS 
Passwords are crucial to maintain- 
ing your digital privacy. That's why 
you should change them regularly, 
including those on answering ma- 
chines that offer remote access and 
your bank personal identification 
number. You should not usc the 
same password on all your accounts. 
A computer password offers more 
flexibility because it can be longer 
and have more variety than a PIN. 


"Sex," for example, 
is an awful 
password—it's 


short, common 
and easy 
to break. 


The best passwords combine letters 
(uppercase and lowercase), num- 
bers, punctuation and symbols and 
ideally are easy to remember but 
hard to guess. 

"Sex," for example, is an awful 
password—it's short, common and 
easy to break since it appears in the 
dictionary (hackers often use scan- 
ning programs that submit dictio- 
nary words until they get a match). 
One study found that more than 
half of the women at one company 
used “baby” as their password; the 
men preferred four-letter vulgari- 
ties. Your user name spelled back- 
ward, the default you're given when 
you open an account, the name of 
your spouse, your phone number, 
your hobbies, the titles or characters 
of TV programs or movies, slang 


words and cultural icons (Madonna, 
Cosby, Celtics, Jesus, Goethe) are 
lousy passwords. Instead, use long- 
er, more complex combinations 
such as 52=LeTSFUNfun or 
1619like768dogs4567. 

Finally, never trust your software. 
Many software developers in- 
clude "back doors" in password 
systems because so many users for- 
get theirs and ask for help. "These 
firms don't want angry customers 
suing them for lost data," notes 
Bacard. Trouble is, this provides 
snoops with a way in. 


SOCIAL SECURITY NUMBER 
It's hard to believe that this innocu- 
ous nine-digit number can wreak so 
much havoc in the wrong hands. 
But because many federal agencies, 
banks and other institutions use it to 
identify records in their databases, 
over the years the Social Security 
number has become one of the digi- 
tal keys that helps snoops learn 
more about you. The Internal Rev- 
enue Service and financial institu- 
tions can require it, but you are un- 
der no legal obligation to provide it 
to merchants who use it for record 
keeping. Never have your number 
printed on your checks, business 
cards or other identification, and it 
doesn't have to be on your driver's 
license. Notes Bacard, "The FBI, 
Secret Service and other govern- 
ment agencies know the dangers of 
stolen Social Security numbers; yet 
many bureaucrats still hassle you for 
refusing to give it out." 


VOICE MAIL 

If you use voice mail, assume that 
your phone company, voice mail 
firm or employer can monitor your 
messages. A case that may help 
define privacy rights in this area 
is pending in New York. Michael 
Huffcut, a regional supervisor for 
McDonald's, and a manager were 
having an affair and exchanged 
voice mail at work. The messages 
were retrieved by another manager 
and played for Huffcut's boss and 
Mrs. Huffcut. Huffcut, who protest- 
ed and was fired, has filed suit in 
federal court. — CHIP ROWE 


36 


HUGH DONE IT 

“The Rules of the Game” 
(The Playboy Forum, October) 
gives Hugh Grant another mil- 
lion dollars’ worth of free pub- 
licity. Curious that Elizabeth 
Hurley, referred to as room- 
mate and best friend but never 
lover, doesn't seem to mind all 
the hoopla. 

Jim Perkins 

St. Thomas, Virgin Islands 


1 thought we had finally real- 
ized that, now more than ever, 
sex is a dangerous business. 
Unfortunately, Che Hugh Grant 
story is juicier from the betrayal 
angle, so the frightening statis- 
tics about the diseases prosti- 
tutes carry have been over- 
looked. My view on Hugh? It's 
up to you if you want to expose 
yourself to syphilis, warts or 
AIDS, but how dare you threat- 
en the life of a woman you pro- 
fess to love. 

Elizabeth Ballinger 
Bethlehem, Pennsylvania 


As one who used to “pay for 
it,” I think Hugh Grant should 
have gone for someone more 
respectable and not from the 
street. There are health risks 
involved. 


Edward Johnson 
Houston, Texas 


CYBERSCARY 

Your article on Internet pornog- 
raphy is commendable ("Cyberscare 
Scrapbook,” The Playboy Forum, No- 
vember). As the operator of a private 
adult bulletin board system for seven 
years, | am curious as to why there is 
suddenly such a big deal being made 
over adult material that's available “at 
the touch of a button.” I have seen it 
for at least 15 years. However, even 1 
find it difficult to access sources of 
adult material other than my own ser- 
vice. The Internet has not been an easy 
avenue; I have yet to find adult mate- 
there. Private bulletin boards are 
the only places where I see adult files, 
and every one requires that I send a 
copy of my driver's license to prove my 
age. Private BBSes are closed commu- 
nities. To enjoy what is offered, you 
must have the same interest as the pro- 
prietors. If the subject matter is unap- 


FOR THE RECORD 


CHIEF EXECUTIVE 


"If God is truly a man, then we've hit the ulti- 
mate glass ceiling.” 
— OVERHEARD AT A WORKSHOP ON THE SUBJECT 
OF WOMEN AND RELIGION AT THE 1995 UNITED 
NATIONS CONFERENCE ON WOMEN IN BEIJING 


to discuss the Rimm statistics in 
а way that defines what they are 
worth. Perhaps some of our 
government leaders will take a 
good look at this information 
and commit to doing research 
of their own. One statistic that 
Rimm omitted was the number 
of BBSes that require a copy of 
a driver's license and a signed 
statement of age. Most BBSes 
and a growing number of Inter- 
net Web sites that maintain col- 
lections of adult material now 
require this sort of information 
before they will issue an access 
password. 

Dennis Fabiszak 

Nesconset, New York 


Thank you for your cyber- 
porn coverage. Censorship on 
and restrictions of the Net, and 
of publications like yours. are 
dangerous in a democracy. 1 ab- 
hor all censorship, especially 
when it is supported by hypo- 
critical right-wing demagogues. 

Lance Mertz 
Anchorage, Alaska 


Thanks for your story on 
Rimm's flawed study. Let us 
hope his bogus statistics—and 
the recent arrest of more than a 
dozen America Online cus 
tomers on child-porn charges— 
doesn't fuel enthusiasm in 


pealing or offensive, do yourself a favor 
and log off. 
Jason Myers 
Yorktown, Virginia 


Leave it to people like senators 
James Exon and Charles Grassley to at- 
tempt to regulate something they know 
nothing about. Marty Rimm's study of 
Internet pornography was laughably 
stupid and inaccurate. It amazes me 
that Time was duped by the politically 
correct, morally corrupt idiots who 
make up our Congress. That they 
could attempt to legislate something as 
complex and expansive as the Internet 
makes me wonder ifa second American 
revolution isn't necessary, 

Michael Carnes 
Papillion, Nebraska 


I'm glad to see that someone (not 
surprisingly pLaveov) is finally willing 


Washington for giving federal 
agents more power to srioop online. 
What wasn't largely reported about the 
recent FBI sting, dubbed Operation 
Innocent Images, was that the agents 
opened thousands of private messages 
under the guise of rooting out child 
porn. An article in the Austin American- 
Statesman said that federal officials dur- 
ing the investigation "were mindful of 
the privacy interests of those they mon- 
itored and that they ignored other pri- 
vate communications, including tran: 
missions of adult pornography 
Whew! Reading that made me breathe 
so much easier, especially since the FBI 
has so seldom abused its power in the 
past 


Cecil McDonald 
New York, New York 


As a former Amcrica Online sub. 
scriber, I was amused when I stumbled 
across a document, which apparently 


R ES 


Р О 


N US CE 


has been floating around the Internet. 
for years, that purports to be AOL's 
guidelines on what is acceptable vocab- 
ulary in cyberspace. Hundreds of 
words are verboten. The interesting 
parts of the document are the foot- 
notes that detail the sticky wickets of 
context. Асс ng to the guidelines, 
“Life's a bitcl acceptable, but “My 
mom's a bitch” is vulgar. “Nirvana 
kicks ass" is OK, “Jenny is an ass"—no 
way. Wet is acceptable unless it refers to 
feminine arousal; hot is OK except 
when describing sex. Thankfully, you 
can call yourself a dyke or queer, you 
can use the word sex unless you're ask- 
ing someone to have it with you and 
you can say that AOL sucks. 
Bill Long 
Los Angeles, California 
As AOL and other computer online ser- 
vices that strive to provide family atmos- 
pheres have now learned, censorship can be 
hard work. 


FLORIDA'S DRESSING-DOWN 
In 1991 the state of Florida issued a 
performance permit for my stage pro- 
duction MacArthur: The Man, the Beach 
& the Play. The work documents the life 
of billionaire John MacArthur, who 
owned and established Palm Beach 
County's nude beach, which still bears 
his name. The state interrupted the 
performance by arresting me and 
three others for indecent exposure. Af- 
ter my lawyer successfully motioned 
that all charges be dismissed, the Amer- 
ican Civil Liberties Union sued the 
state for violating my First Amendment 
rights as the playwright. That resulted 
in an $11,000 settlement. The cherry 
on the sundae? The ACLU sued the 
state for violating the First Amendment 
rights of my audience. That suit was 
settled out of court for $2500 and a 
long overdue acknowledgment of a 15- 
year-old Florida Supreme Court ruling 
that nudity is protected speech when 
combined with another form of expres- 
sion. The settlement stipulates that the 
show—nudity and all—must go on, and 
it will (at noon on February 19, 1996 
at MacArthur Beach in North Palm 
Beach). The performance is dedicated 
to audience rights, the aspect of the 
First Amendment that guarantees us 
access to every conceivable point of 
view in an open marketplace of ideas 
and information. 
TA. Wyner 
Palm Beach, Florida 


ART ATTACK 
Senator Jesse Helms doesn't need to 
worry about images that destroy our 
collective moral fiber as long as censor 
cops like him are around. Take the 
property manager who shuttered the 
Fifth Annual Sensual & Erotic Art Ex- 
hibition at the Desmond Gallery in Los 
Angeles last fall. The show was closed 
two days after it opened because, ac- 
cording to the manager, the gallery did 
not get prior approval and the exhibit 
was not in keeping with the clean im- 
age the landlord wanted to project. 
The same show ran for three days in 
San Diego, where 2000 people saw it 
and nobody complained. Why was the 
exhibit censored in Hollywood? As an 
artist whose work appeared in the 
show, my First Amendment rights were 
abridged—not by the sheriff but rather 
by the whim of a property manager 
who appointed himself my censor and 
art critic. 
Bernadette McNulty 
Apple Valley, California 


RUBY RIDGE 

Kurt Fischer is dead wrong in his 
perceptions ("Overkill,” Header Re- 
sponse, The Playboy Forum, October). 
That Sammy Weaver was the first per- 
son in the Ruby Ridge incident to fire 
on another person is not relevant and 
indeed may not even 
be true. What is rele- 
vant is that a federal 
agent opened fire, 
purportedly to pro- 
tect his cover (the 
logic of that escapes 
me). The agent was 
not in immediate 
danger and there- 
fore had no legal 
right to fire a weap- 
on. The attitude of 
law enforcement offi- 
cers seems to be that 
even if they instigate 
an incident, any re- 
sponse constitutes a 
felony. I support the 
many courageous 
officers who defend 
me and my rights, 
but I just as ardently 
want to see felonious 
officers in jail with 

the other thugs. 

Mike Williamson 

Champaign, Illinois 


Sergeant Kurt Fischer of the Pitts- 
burgh Police Department can be ap- 
plauded for his reasoning that the 
Weaver family might have been partial- 
ly to blame for the standoff that result- 
ed in several unnecessary deaths. But 
then he asks the question, “Who fired 
the first shot at a human being?" The 
question was a good one, but Fischer 
neglected to give the answer: a young 
boy who had just seen his dog shot by 
an unknown man in combat gear. How 
rational would any of us be if we dis- 
covered that a small army (which had 
already demonstrated its hostile intent) 
had surrounded our house and killed a 
child? When were the federal agents 
planning on announcing themselves? 
We must consider how much better 
things could have worked out if the 
FBI had simply walked up to the front 
door of the Weavers’ cabin with a 
search warrant. 

Allen Beard 
Memphis, Tennessee 


We would like to hear your point of view. 
Send questions, opinions and quirky stuff 
to: Ihe Playboy Forum Reader Response, 
PLAYBOY, 680 North Lake Shore Drive, 
Chicago, Illinois 60611. Please include a 
daytime phone number. Fax number: 312- 
951-2939. E-mail: forum@playboy.com 
(please include your city and state) 


‘inally, the cops admit what we knew all alo} 
The boysjin blue give new meaning to the 
mug shot on a line of cups and T-shirts. 


ДТО 


38 


ASSL SARA SATAN POM ERS (AES LAS 


THE 


LOCKED 


BOX 


MESSE SEZ SSE SESSA 
at cornell, what you don't know can hurt you 


Hidden away within the College of 
Arts and Sciences at Cornell Universi- 
ty is a mysterious locked box. The 
purpose of this box is to preserve in- 
formal complaints of sexual harass- 
ment until they are needed to ruin a 
career. 

When its existence became wide- 
ly known last year after a professor 
was accused of harassment, the box 
(which may actually be a locked filing 
cabinet or desk drawer) took many 
faculty members by surprise. It 
shouldn't have. At a sparsely attended 
spring faculty meeting five years ago, 
the “locked box” had been 
approved as part of a new 
sexual harassment policy. 
Supporters had hoped the 
box would make it easi- 
er for victims to report 
harassment without fear of 
retribution, 

Instead, it created a cli- 
mate of fear among the fac- 
шу. If an informal com- 
plaint is made, the accused 
is not told how serious the 
charge is, or even that it ex- 
ists. He or she can't find 
out, either. The only people 
with access to the box are 
two “senior sexual harass- 
ment counselors,” faculty 
members appointed to their 
positions. After recording 
the informal complaint, 
these counselors decide 
whether to forward the 
charge (with the com- 
plainants approval) to the faculty's 
nal-ethics committee. If that 
step is taken, the box is opened and 
anyone сїзє who has made an infor- 
mal charge is invited to join the chase. 
Thus, a “pattern of harassment" can 
stantly from thin cloth 

The box is shrouded in such mys- 
tery that it may even be empty (as it 
was in the case considered last year by 
the ethics committee). The only cer- 
tainty is that any accusations within 
are unproved and perhaps even in- 
vented. Who knows? Despite being 
championed by two history profes- 
sors, the sexual harassment guide- 
lines that prompted the creation of 
the box offer none of the historical 


By CRAIG L. MYMOWITZ 


guarantees of due process: There is 
по right to face one's accuser, no pre- 
sumption of innocence, no impartial 
jury no statute of limitations. Ac- 
cusers may graduate and move on, 
but the files remain sealed. Because 
students would never be safe from 
possible retaliation, they can сусп 
add charges to the box long after they 
leave school, 

Cornell's locked box is especially 
forbidding because allegations of sex- 


ual harassment have become the scar- 
let letter of the Nineties—the accusa- 
tion for which there is no defense. 
Professors lecture on controversial 
topics with trepidation, fearful of cre- 
ating a hostile environment in the 
mind of a morally outraged student 
Which comment might offend? What 
behavior might be reported? Which 
charge might be dropped into the 
box? Should accusations of sexual ha- 
rassment come to light, they could 
prove toxic even if later dismissed as 
exaggerations or falschoods. 

Before the new procedures were 
approved in 1991, harassment 
charges were handled informally 
within the college or referred to the 


university's office of equal opportuni- 
ty, the office of the ombudsman or the 
judicial administrator. These infor- 
mal procedures allowed the dean or 
department chair to discuss the 
charge with the accuser and the ac- 
cused and attempt to gauge its validi- 
ty. Sometimes what is viewed as ha- 
rassment is the result of a simple 
misunderstanding. Other times it is 
more ominous. At the very least, the 
accused professor is made aware that 
his or her actions were viewed as in- 
appropriate or threatening. 

All this flexibility disappeared 
when the College of Arts 
and Sciences called its first 
meeting to discuss what 
some faculty felt were “in- 
adequate procedures” for 
dealing with harassment 
charges. A small ad hoc 
committee took upon itself 
the task of producing new 
guidelines. 

The committee decided 
to focus not on individual 
charges but on whether sex- 
ual harassment had oc- 
curred in a broad sense. 
History professor Isabel 
Hull said that she and the 
other members of the com- 
mittee were “leery of treat- 
ing innocence as if it were 
an easy, objective matter. If 
the actions of the accused 
were unintentional, the ac- 
cused feels innocent. Yet, 
how does one judge a case 
in which the accuser felt harassed?” 
In other words, if a student felt ha- 
rassed, he or she was harassed. 

By allowing the box to exist, Cor 
nell has not only aborted due process 
but also violated its original goals: to 
raise awareness about what consti- 
tutes sexual harassment and educate 
offenders. In the McCarthyite atmos- 
phere that created the locked box, 
one can never be sure of one’s own 
innocence. 


Craig L. Hymowitz, a 1994 Cornell 
graduate, is a student at the University of 
Pennsylvania Law School. A longer ver- 
sion of this article originally appeared in 
“Heterodoxy.” 


М E W 


S F К 


O JN X 


what's happening in the sexual and social arenas 


DANIA, FLORIDA—Using decoy hookers 
to fish for johns, the Broward County 
Sheriff's Department landed a whopper— 
a Mass Transit Division bus driver still 
driving his bus. The driver had completed 


his run when he picked up one last passen- 
ger, who happened to be an undercover cop 
dressed in tube top, high heels and cutoffs. 
The driver allegedly bartered for a $15 
blow job. 


OKLAHOMA CITY Communications gi- 
anis ATT, MCI and Sprint are instru- 
ments of the devil. At least that’s the claim 
of Lifeline, a self-described Christian long- 
distance service. The big three are in 
league with Satan, suggests Lifeline, for 
accepting homosexuals as employees and 
customers. Lifeline's long-distance callers 
can avoid this electronic consorting by sub- 
scribing to its 800-number service. “With 
one toll-free call," Lifeline's ads state, "you. 
can make a sland for morality in Ameri- 
ca." You will also contribute ten percent. 
of your monthly bill lo such groups as 
the Christian Coalition, Operation Rescue 
and the American Family Association. 


MONTPELIER. VERMONT— The ACLU 
has filed a lawsuit on behalf of five sex of- 
fenders in St, Albans State Prison who 
participated in a "victim empathy class.” 


The inmates were forced to undergo simu- 
lated anal intercourse while a therapist 
screamed obscenities al them. Officials de- 
fended the program as a form of “drama 
therapy” designed lo help rapists under- 
stand whal their victims go through. The 
ACLU claims the program could actually 
undermine efforts to reform prisoners by 
demeaning them. Many prisoners felt they 
had been "deeply and lastingly trauma- 
tized, sickened, terrified and humiliated.” 
Prison therapists thought that was the idea 
behind the victim empathy program. 


MCALESTER OKLAHOMA—A condemned 
prisoner tried to cheat the state by overdos- 
ing on smuggled drugs shortly before his 
scheduled execution. He was revived at a 
hospital and returned to the death cham- 
ber, where the execution proceeded as 
planned. The U.S. Supreme Court has 
ruled that a condemned prisoner must be 
awake for his execution, so he is aware that 
he is being executed. 

JEFFERSON CITY, MISSOURI— Missouri 
prison officials couldn't understand why 
their lethally injected prisoner was still 
alive after 30 minutes, until guards fig- 
ured out that the straps restraining him 
were culting off his blood circulation. Once 
the straps were loosened, the man died 
without further complications. 


LOS ANGELES—A 59-year-old North 
Hollywood man has been sentenced to 20 
years in prison for molesting two underage 
girls. While posing as a space alien, the 
man told his victims he was sent to recruit 
a team of girls with superior beauty and 
intelligence for a female-dominated utopi- 
an society on the planet Cabell. After a 
round of strip poker to break down the re- 
cruils' subconscious barriers, the man had 
intercourse with them, saying that semen 
injections would ward off space diseases. 
One victim later commented to the “Los 
Angeles Times,” "I don't feel like J was the 


smartest of people for going along.” 


SAN DIEGO— What kind of man starts a 
group called Center for Family Values? 
Jim Harnsberger, who founded the outfit, 
has been married five times, owes almost 
$20,000 in delinquent child support and 


reportedly kept a former girlfriend in line 
by telling her he would cut her into little 
pieces and throw them into the ocean. 


LONDON—A policeman sent to investi- 
gate a burglary spent more than two hours 
en one of the victim's phones, calling sex 
chat lines. The bobby was busted when the 
phone bill showed the calls had been made 
while he was on the premises. 


LONDON—A new version of the Bible 
combines traditional biblical text with dai- 
ly readings designed to strengthen rela- 
tionships. The "Couples' Devotional Bi- 
ble” openly discusses female orgasm, male 
fantasy and sex as food. The contemporary 
text counsels readers that “sometimes you 
sit down to a gourmet feast with candle- 
light, soft music, seven courses. Other 
times it’s a snack on the run. Neither 
would be healthy all Ihe time.” 


WASHINGTON, D.C —The campaign to 
replace dollar bills with dollar coins has 
encountered a group of formidable foes. 
strippers. Some limber ladies are con- 
cerned that the practice of tucking a buck 
in а G-string would die with the green- 


backs. Tipping with anything but foldable 
green, they say, would be as erotic as drop- 


ping a com in a beggars cup. 


40 


DEAD-BROKE DADS 


e ааа авала: 
why cold, hard cash just isn’t enough 


nn nn 
by STUART MILLER and ARMIN BROTT 


Some fathers refuse to pay child 
support. We can seize their property, 
confiscate bank accounts, intercept 
tax returns, destroy credit ratings. We 
can attach their wages, suspend li- 
censes and publicize names and ad- 
dresses. We can print mock "wanted" 
posters that make them look as dan- 
gerous as gangsters. And they still 
won't pay. 

It shouldn't come as a surprise, 
then, that President Bill Clinton and 
many members of Congress demand 
tougher, more punitive legislation. In 
fact, federal prosecutors are on the 
casc right now. 

But what will these new collection 
measures accomplish? According to 
most research on the subject, the an- 
swer is "not much.” In 1992 the In- 
stitute for Research on Poverty at 
the University of Wisconsin found 
that 52 percent of obligors who 
are delinquent in their child sup- 
port payments earn less than 
$6155 per year. That's not y 
enough to support one per- 
son. And in a report by the 
General Accounting Office, 

66 percent of mothers who do 
not receive support report that 
the fathers cannot afíord to pay 
the support ordered. (The report 
also found that up to 14 percent of 
child-support obligors are deceased.) 

Other government reports show 
that when there are court orders for 
support, 76 percent of fathers pay. 
According to Justice Department sta- 
tistics, there are about 950,000 men 
in state and federal prisons. A survey 
of these inmates found that 76 per- 
cent of federal prisoners and 64 per- 
cent of state prisoners have one or 
more children. And there are thou- 
sands of men in mental institutions, 
drug rehab centers and homeless 
shelters. When you consider the 
number of unemployed, disabled or 
ill, the portrait of the deadbeat dad as 
callous falls apart. 

Granted, there may be some over- 
lap in these categories. But the bot- 
tom line is that the true percentages 
don't warrant the hysteria. The child- 
support crisis we've heard so much 
about doesn't exist. 

What does exist, though, is an ab- 


sent-father cri In 1992 the Nation- 
al Center for Health Statistics report- 
ed that a child living with a divorced 
mother is almost twice as likely as a 
child living with both parents to re- 
peat a grade of school and is more 
likely to suffer from chronic asthma. 
headaches, bed-wetting or stuttering. 

A recent study of 273,000 children 
conducted by Peter Benson and Judy 
Galbraith, authors of What Kids Need 
to Succeed: Proven, Practical Ways to 
Raise Good Kids, reports 30 require- 
ments necessary to a child’s develop- 
ment. Benson and Galbraith divide 
those assets into two categories— 
internal and external. Of the 16 ex- 


ternal assets, more than half are 
parental contributions, including 
approachability, communicativeness 
and involvement at school. Financial 
support is not mentioned as being es- 
sential to the emotional well-being of 
a child. 

Many of our greatest citizens grew 
up in poverty, but they managed to 
succeed because both parents were 
involved in their lives. It is timc wc fo- 
cused on the most critical aspects of 
child support: the emotional and psy- 
chological support of the child 

Not surprisingly, research shows 
that fathers (and mothers) are less 
likely to pay financial support if they 
are cut off from their children. If the 
government would put one tenth of 


the time, energy and money it spends 
trying to squcczc blood out of turnips 
into ensuring that fathers are allowed 
to play an active role in their chil- 
dren's lives, the child-support prob- 
lem would evaporate 

Women who receive child support 
are rarely asked to account for how 
they spend the money, nor are their 
own financial contributions scruti- 
nized. What counts is that they spend 
time with their kids. Fathers should 
be held to the same standard. 

According to a 1989 study by the 
Census Bureau, more than 90 per- 
cent of fathers with joint custody pay 
child support on time and in full. Al- 
most 80 percent of fathers with visita- 
tion arrangements do so. 

Tt's also important to recognize that 
almost 30 percent of delinquent child- 
support cases involve parents who 
live in different states. In 80 percent 

of these cases, the custodial moth- 
er is the one who moved, shatter- 
ing the father-child bond that is 
critical to children's develop- 
ment. Still, among the fathers 
who have no custody, no visitation 
ог no access of any kind, almost 45 
percent pay child support. 

The answer to the financial child- 
support problem is to focus on more 
important aspects of child support— 
namely emotional, psychological and 
physical presence. If we want to in- 

crease child-support compliance and 

minimize the impact of divorce, sep- 

aration and illegitimacy, we need to 
consider the complete range of a 
child's needs. Let's create a system 
where it is more attractive for women 
to marry the fathers of their children 
than to collect welfare. The nurtur- 
ing, discipline, caring and teaching 
that each parent provides cannot be 
replicated by one parent. And when 
families do break apart, let's foster an 
atmosphere that allows children the 
closest thing possible to a two-parent 
family. This is what real child support 
is all about. 


Stuart Miller is the senior legislative 
analyst for the American Fathers’ Coali- 
tion їп Washington, D.C. 

Armin Brolt is a journalist from Berke- 
ley and author of “The Expectant Father." 


Reporter's Notebook 


INTEGRATION: THE BIG LIE 


in critical ways, whites and blacks 


Wynton Marsalis was there. So were 
Quincy Jones, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar 
and Johnnie Cochran. My friend Anna 
Perez had invited me to a charity recep- 
tion at Creative Artists Agency's head- 
quarters in Los Angeles. Perez, who used 
to be Barbara Bush's press secretary, the 
first black press secretary in the White 
House, now does public relations fo 
Mike Ovitz and for other heavies in the 
entertainment industry. 

It was a great night. Marsalis played 
and the hors d'oeuvres were superb, but 
1 noticed something was strange: There 
were hardly any white people present. 
When the talk turned to the O.]. Simp- 
son verdict, as it almost always will, 
Cochran was not hailed as a hero, but 
neither was he vilified. There was a clear 
sense that any minority person can at 
any time be sct up by the police simply 
for being the wrong color in the wrong 
neighborhood. 

The same benefit of the doubt was ex- 
tended to Louis Farrakhan, who had just 
organized the Million Man March. Even 
in Los Angeles, among these enormous- 
ly successful people, there was a sense 
that blacks were far from secure in 
America. 

Three days later I was at another bash, 
this one in honor of former Washington 
Post editor Ben Bradlee, who had pub- 
lished his memoirs. Guess what? There 
wasn't a single black person there who 
wasn't waiting tables. Again, the subject 


of O.J. came up, and this time there was 
much snickering about the "Cochran de- 
fense.” Most contemptuous of it was Su- 


san Estrich, the lawyer and talk-show 
host, a former liberal who had once 
managed Michael Dukakis’ dismal pres 
dential campaign. She also was vitric 
in her contempt for Farrakhan. Scores of 
people there told me their liberalism 
“had died with the OJ. verdict" or with 
Farrakhan's rhetoric, 

Such scenes of 
have been lifted from South Afr 
ing apartheid. But we were socializing 
in one of the more integrated venues 
of American life ment, alon; 
with sports and big-city politics, 
occupation where Af 
have made major gains. Vet, despite this 

creased mixing on the job, there seems 
to be less (rather than more) social inter- 


ге 


are more apart than ever 


opinion By ROBERT SCHEER 


action in our culture. 

Whatever happened to integration? 
For some black people, greater econom- 
ic success does not seem to produce 
more mixing of the races. Indeed, as a 
recent Los Angeles Times article pointed 
out, affluent blacks are choosing increas- 
ngly to live among other blacks rather 
than move into mixed or white neigh- 
borhoods where they can now afford to 
live. Black students now attend college 
in far larger numbers, but, as a recent 
New York Times article concluded, life on 
campus is often quite segregated. At 
MIT many black students choose to live 
on three dormitory floors that they call 
Chocolate City. 

Separatism has become an accepted 
practice. Maybe it always was. In the 
black community, separatism has been a 
vital sentiment since the days of Marcus 
It’s reinforced today by a sense 
among black Americans that the slogans 
of integration haven't made this the 
promised land. 

The big lesson of the Million Man 
March is that many blacks, of all classes, 
feel besieged. They place a premium on 
black unity as a precondition for further 
progress in white society. As the speakers 
at the march, Farrakhan included, made 
clear, they were not offering a doomed, 
romantic notion of black secession. The 
speeches called for a black rei ince to. 


tion. While most blacks assert that rac- 
ism remains an impediment to prog- 
ress, whites overwhelmingly think that 
view is rubbish. 

A majority of whites polled 
ington Post-Harvard University survey 
said that “the average black is faring as 
well or better than the average white in 
such specific arcas as jobs, education and 
health care." But, as the Post pointed 
out, the truth is quite the opposite: 
"Whites, on average, earn 60 percent 
more than blacks, are far more likely to 
have medical insurance and are morc 


n a Wash- 


than twice as likely to graduate from 
college.” 
The 


cts don't matter. Whites are pes 
ic about their future and asi 
ly threatened. That's why the 
affirmative action is so controversial. 


e of 


Whites see it as a threat to their job secu- 
ity in a shrinking economy. But for 
blacks, affirmative action has been a lad- 
der up out of poverty, and most don't 
want it withdrawn now that it's doing 
some good. Even my Republican friend 
Anna Perez counts herself as "an af- 
firmative action hire—Barbara Bush de- 
cided it was about time to have a black. 
press secretary in the White House, and 
she sent out a directive to find a qualified 
one. I qualified." There was a time when 
many whites would have cheered that 
tale. But that was when they were in a 
mood to be generou: 
Remember that the promise of the civ- 
il rights movement was born at a time of 
unprecedented prosperity in America. 
We are now witnessing the withering of 
the American dream. The Post-Harvard 
poll found that six out of ten Americans 
feel they are further away from "the 
American dream" than they were ten 
years ago. 
The economic reali 


is far gri 
for blacks. That reality, of course, is con- 
cealed by the fact that some black ath- 
letes and entertainers earn enormous 
sums and indulge in lavish lifestyles. It's 
difficult to recall now, but O.J. Simpson 
once symbolized the myopic hope that 
America had overcome its racial prob- 
lems. To all outward appearances. Simp- 
son led the perfect of an integrat- 
ed black man. Farrakhan, in his speech 
to the participants in the Million Man 
March, had a diflerent perspective: “You 
say, “That Negro can run. "Look at 
how high he jumps.’ Then you take 
them into the NBA, the NFL, and they 
become megastars. And when they be- 
come megas! their association is no 
longer black. 

The Simpson case will go down as a 
profound moment of racial antagonism, 
bur it was clearly a symptom of an exist- 
ing estrangement. In any case, that 5 
plisúc O.J. model of integration, on 
terms dictated by the dominant white so- 


reliance and outreach. of the Million 
Man March should provide a more real- 
istic model for the interaction of whites 


and blacks in the future. 


41 


Feel Your Ginsana. 


wmm BRUCE WILLIS 


a candid conversation with film's sensitive tough guy on living hard, revel- 
ing in the demi monde and why bob dole is dead wrong about movie violence 


Bruce Willis surveys the crowd at the de- 
but of yet another Planet Hollywood, this onc 
in San Diego. Al this opening, becfy security 
guards whisper into walkic-lalkies while 
celebrities such as Sylvester Stallone, Arnold 
Schwarzenegger, Roseanne, Whoopi Gold- 
berg, Luke Perry and Gérard Depardieu sip 
champagne or mineral water. 

But it’s not until the music begins that the 
party really revs up. It's a Planet Hollywood 
: опе of the club's co-oumers, 
climbs onstage aud vips through a number of 
roch and soul songs, singing and playing 
harmonica. He is joined onstage by such 
Jaux rockers as Goldberg and Roseanne. 
Then comes the 1993 Playmate of the Year, 
Anna Nicole Smith, who, as “The New York 
Times Magazine” reported, “flips a breast 
ош of the side of her тей dress, waves it in 
Willis" face, then unbuttons his shirt and 
proceeds to lich his chest.” 

All in a night's work for Bruce Willis. 

As one of Hollywood's most highly paid ac- 
tors, Willis is known for movies in which 
property is vaporized. speed laws are broken 
and assorted propellants are ignited. But he 
is nol merely a pumped-up action hero à la 
Schwarzenegger or Stallone. Indeed, he of- 
Len chooses supporting roles in a wide range 
of movies for which he receives neither 
above-the-title credit nor big bucks. For those 


“Fuck scenes are just hard work. You're 
naked in front of 90 people with, most of the 
time, a woman you hardly know. You're 
sweating. Some guy says, `1 can see your 
dick. Tuck your dick in." It's very unsexy." 


roles, in films such as last year's “Nobody's 
Fool,” which starred Paul Newman and 
iffuh, Willis has received consid- 
rable praise from critics. Terry Gilliam, who 
directed Willis in his most recent film, 
“Twelve Monkeys,” has said, “Bruce is very 
powerful when he’s still—not blowing up 
half the known universe. 

For his first thrill pic, “Die Hard,” Willis 
was paid a landmark $5 million (it and its 
tremendously popular sequels have grossed 
more than $700 million). “Die Hard” led to 
a mixed bag of films, including “TI 
Boy Scout,” “Death Becomes Her, 
ing Distance,” “Blind Dale,” "In Country” 
and, with his wife, Demi Moore, “Mortal 
Thoughts.” He was also the voice-over for 
the annoyingly precocious baby in the “Look 
Who's Talking” movies and the reporter in 

“Bonfire of the Vanities.” In 1994 he played 
Butch, the boxer who is paid to throw a fight 
and then refuses to go down, in Quentin 
Tarantino's “Pulp Fiction.” 

Willis always makes an impression, in his 
personal life and on the screen. He was a 
tabloid favorite in his party-animal days and 
continues to be in his more respectable per- 
sona as a political mover and shaker who 
campaigned for George Bush in the 1992 
election. There has also been an unending 
string of stories about his marriage to Demi 


“See, you become a criminal because you're a 
sociopath, because your parents weren't there 
when somebody should have been saying, 
“This is right and this is wrong.’ It's not be- 
cause you see "Pulp Fiction.” 


Moure—a celebrated union few in Holly- 
wood thought would last. 

This high-profile, whirlwind life is a giant 
leap [vom Willis! modest beginnings in Car- 
neys Point, New Jersey, an industrial town 
on the Delaware River, where his father was 
a welder. His youth was typical of the time: 
His parents split when he was 16, he was 
student council president and occasional 
class clown and he was expelled for fighting 
and busted for smoking pol. 

Willis stutiered when he was a child, but 
the speech impediment vanished when he 
gan acting in high school, After graduating 
he then enrolled at Moniclair State College, 
where he studied theater. Next came a move 
to New York City, where he ardenily pursued 
а career as an actor, paying the rent on a 
Hell's Kitchen apartment with tips he made 
bartending. Acting jobs came slowly, first in 
commercials—he was the guy blowing the 
harmonica in a popular Levi's ad—and 
finally, in 1984, as the lead in an off-Broad- 
way production of Sam Shepard's “Fool for 
Love.” From there. an agent sent him to Hol- 
lywood to audition for a TV pilot that 
starred Cybill Shepherd. “Moonlighting” 
rekindled her career and launched his. 

Willis met and married Moore in 1987, 
and they now form Hollywood's most power- 
‘ful acting partnership (if they file jointly, the 


PHOTOGRAPHY BY MIZUNO 
“Im a Republican because I believe some of 
what they choose to believe: that less govern- 
ment is belter. But you have to spend money 
on education, on helping people who can't 
eat. Do that first. Is common sense." 


43 


PLAYBOY 


pair must pay taxes on more Ihan $20 mil- 
lion a year; for her current movie, “Strip- 
tease,” Moore reportedly received $12.5 mil- 
lion). But they have more in common than 
their enormous salaries: Both actors are ea- 
ger to take risks. She posed nude on the cou- 
er of “Vanity Fair" when she was seven 
months pregnant. In a film called “Color of 
Night," he did a much-discussed underwater 
sex scene in which there's a brief flash of his 
genitals. 


and Moore are completely devoted 
to their three daughters, Rumer, Scout and 
Tallulah. When he isn't playing music or 
making movies, Willis divides his time be- 
tween his family’s apartment on New York's 
Upper West Side, a home in Malibu and an 
expansive ranch tucked into the mountains 
of Hailey, Idaho. That's where Contributing 
Editor David Sheff met up with him. Here's 
Sheff's report: 

"Willis and I met at his newly opened 
restaurant, the Mint, in a renovated former 
whorehouse. Downstairs is a dining area 
and upstairs is a club for music, comedy and 
dinner theater. In the entryway is a poster- 
size photo of a precocious-looking child, cap- 
tioned OUR FOUNDER— Willis at the age of 
four. The founder, now 40, with a sparse 
goatee and supershort haircut, escorted me 
upstairs to an office with leather chairs and 
couches, a Tiffany lamp and a long, polished 
mahogany bar. Above the door is a sign that 
reads BE YOURSELF. He said il was a gift 
from his wife: As far as motloes go, it’s a 
pretty good one." he added. 

“Throughout the interview, Willis was a 
conslantly moving target, always pacing, go- 
ing from the floor to the couch to a chair. He 
took a break in the middle of one session to 
have dinner with his children. When we met 
again an hour or so later, he picked up one 
of the tape vecorders and, in his unmistak- 
able whisper, said, "We're back with Bruce 
Иш” 


PLAYBOY: Is it safe to hang out with you? 
Ме half expect something to blow up. 
WILLIS: Life is taking chances, right? 
PLAYBOY: After all the movies you've 
done, does it bother you to be so closely 
tied to the action hero guy in the Die 
Hard series? 

WILLIS: You just minimized him in a sen- 
tence. In fact, "the action hero guy” is an 
archetype, a classic storytelling figure. 
Action films serve the same function as 
Westerns—they present morality plays, 
albeit with cursing, a lot more blood and 
violence, and tits. The heroes are all un- 
derdogs, and in America, people love to 
root for the underdog. I'm drawn to 
them because they have obstacles to sur- 
mount. It's more interesting than play- 
ing the George Hamilton character who 
shows up with the great car and the 
beautiful girl. When I chose those mov- 
ies. I never thought about whether or 
not they had similarities. 1 thought 
about whether they were good stories. 
The only time I was conscious of doing 


44 parts that were similar was after Die Hard 


2, when I was about to begin The Last Boy 
Scout. It was about another cop or detec- 
tive, a kind of down-on-his-luck guy. I 
thought I should come up with a differ- 
ent guy—a different way of breathing, of 
thinking, of speaking. 1 think 1 did, 
though it was in a 
PLAYBOY: The movies are 
traying a lot of violenc 
spond to those who cri 
der and mayhem? 
WILLIS: In my mind, a big, exciting, 
thrilling, scary, violent film is no differ- 
ent from the newest ride at Disney 
World. You're sitting in a darkened room 
with 100 or 200 people and these little 
flashing points of light on the screen are 
able to scare you, thrill you, make you 
jump. That's the trick, that's the art 
form. It can make you feel good or make 
you cry. Some of the films I do are roller- 
coaster rides, some are dark character 
pieces and some are comedies. I don't 
want to limit myself. 

PLAYBOY: Do you at least admit that the 
guys you play make violence seem cool? 
WILLIS: Ever see any Humphrey Bogart 
movies when you were a kid? James 


ze all that mur- 


Bob Dole talks about 
Hollywood and violence. 
When he deals with the prob- 
lems that cause people to kill, 
we'll talk about not doing 
films about people who kill. 


Cagney movies? Edward G. Robinson 
movies? Did you ever think that that was 
the thing to do? See, you become a crim- 
inal because you're a sociopath, because 
your parents weren't there and you were 
left alone, on your own, at a time when 
somebody should have been saying, 
“This is right and this is wrong." That's 
where criminals come from. It's not be- 
cause you see Pulp Fiction. 

PLAYBOY: Yet many people think violence 
in movies contributes to street violence. 


probably been "killed" in films I have 
done. But no one has ever said to me, “I 
thought so-and-so was really killed in 


your film." I don't think anyone walks 
out of the theater crying, "Oh my God! 
Forty people were killed! They're dead!" 
No, Mom, they're not dead, they're just 
acting. I've never been shown proof that 
there's any correlation between movie 
violence and real violence. Our audi- 
ences have the intelligence to know the 
difference. Bob Dole talks about Holly- 
wood's culpability for the violence in 
America. Fine. When he deals with the 
problems in society that cause people to 


kill people, we'll talk about not doing 
films about people killing people. Stop 
crime. Let me walk out of my house and 
not have to think about somebody put- 
ting a gun to my head. Don't tell me that 
the problem is the movies and that if we 
stop making all these films, anything is 
going to change. It isn't. It's a violent 
world. While we were shooting Tivelve 
Monkeys, which is about a deadly virus 
that's released into the atmosphere, 
somebody opened that jar of sarin in the 
Japanese subway. While 1 was doing 
publicity for Die Hard With a Vengeance, 
somebody blew up the building in Okla- 
homa City. So it's not like this fiction is so 
far from reality. Fix society—don't blame 
movies. Reality is what's scary. 

PLAYBOY: David Geffen said that The Last 
Boy Scout was the one movie of his career 
that he was embarrassed to have pro- 
duced because of its extreme violence. 
Did that one cross the line? 

WILLIS: It’s a specific taste, but there's an 
audience for it. And there was some ii 
teresting stuff in the movie. It ultimately 
didn't live up to the promise of the story, 
but I liked the character. I know some 
people were offended not only by the vi- 
olence but by the way the kid spokc to 
his father—he had a foul mouth. Sorry, 
Aunt Irene. It was offensive, but it made 
a point 

PLAYBOY: Were you reluctant to do the 
Die Hard sequels, because the first one 
was a hard act to follow? 

Yeah, especially the third time. 
The third in many series has had partic- 
ularly bad luck. Prior to Die Hard there 
weren't that many sequels, except for 
Sly's work in the Rocky series. They are 
tough to do because they aren't new 
movies. Because it's really another chap- 
ter in a movie people have already seen, 
a story in which people kind of know 
who everybody is, you have to live up to 
the promise of the first film or films. 
PLAYBOY: Does the day-to-day work re- 
main interesting? 

WILLIS: Even in these movies, you're try- 
ing to do new things each time. It's not 
that I think I broke any new artistic 
ground. [ didn't come to any acting 
epiphanies while shooting the film—but 
T kept the character interesting. 

PLAYBOY: How did you get the role in the 
first movie? 

WILLIS: They just asked me to do it. I was 
in the middle of Moonlighting. 1 have to 
thank Cybill Shepherd for enabling me 
to do it. She got pregnant and they shut 
down Moonlighting for 12 weeks. During 
that time, I fit in Die Hard. 

PLAYBOY: Did its success come as a sur- 
Prise to you? 

WILLIS: It definitely turned out to be big- 
ger than what I had imagined, but 1 
knew it was good when I saw early 
scenes. I think John McTiernan [the di- 
rector] shone. He would do things with 
the camera that 1 wouldn't always un- 
derstand. He made it really exciting— 


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nonstop, claustrophobic. 

PLAYBOY: Now it's relatively modest, but 
your fee for Die Hard —$5 million—was 
unprecedented. 

WILLIS: Yeah, it was phenomenal. 
PLAYBOY: Alan Ladd Jr., then chairman of 
MOM, complained that your salary was a 
standard that would "throw the whole 
movie business out of whack.” 

witus: I'm sure Alan Ladd would like to 
have a film that did as well as the Die 
Hard series has done. Leonard Gold- 
berg, the former head of Fox who paid 
the money, looks like a genius. We would 
be having a different conversation if that 
film had failed. In fact, you wouldn't be 
talking to me. But Goldberg took a 
chance. Everybody was up in arms the 
next day: “How can they pay this kind of 
dough, especially toa TV actor?” 
PLAYBOY: You are one of the highest paid 
actors in the world. When you reflect on 
your salary, do you chuckle? 

witus: Every day 1 wake up laughing. 
For whatever reason, if there is a reason, 
if there is destiny—1 am a fortunate 
man. Some religions hold that I am be- 
ing rewarded in this life for whatever 
happened to me in a past life. Whatever 
happened back then, I don't know. I 
have no explanation for it. I'm just lead- 
ing a charmed life. 1 have fallen into—or 
created... fortunate circumstances. 
PLAYBOY: And so has your wife. She broke 
the salary record for actresses with the 
$12.5 million she got for Striptease 
WILLIS: I can't comment on what she ac- 
tually made, but, yeah, she's breaking a 
lot of barriers. It's not a mystery. You 
have to be able to deliver, and she does. 
She hits a home run out of the park each 
time. 1 think Ghost has made something 
like $550 million. If she consistently 
makes phenomenally successful movies, 
as she has, she should get what guys 
get. Let any of these other girls open a 
film that goes on to earn $100 million, 
$150 million or more, and they're going 
to get that kind of dough. 

PLAYBOY: Do you find that it changes the 
type of work for you when you've made 
so much money that you don't have to 
work anymore? 

WILLIS: You can become more selective 
about projects. For the past six, seven 
years I haven't had to work on any film 
that has come along. Most actors take 
any job, because they want to work. Now 
I say no to things that 1 would have 
jumped at before. 

PLAYBOY: Have you said no to any movies 
that turned out to be hits? 

witus: How about Ghost? Knucklehead 
Bruce Willis. I just didn't get it. I said, 
“Hey, the guy's dead. How are you 
gonna have a romance?” Famous last 
words. But I don't regret it, because it 
just doesn't matter. It's down the road, 
under the bridge. 

PLAYBOY: Ghost was your wife's break- 
through film. In it was the provocative 


48 clay-and-sex scene with Patrick Swayze. 


She has also had sex scenes with Robert 
Redford in Indecent Proposal and Michael 
Douglas in Disclosure. Do you ever get 
jealous? 
WILLIS: Never. 
PLAYBOY: Not even a tinge? 
WILLIS: Not yet, no. I guess I'm not jeal- 
ous in that way. I feel pretty secure with 
my wife and how we are with each other. 
PLAYBOY: How about the other way 
around? There was the story that she 
had onc of your co-stars in Hudson Hauk 
fired because she was too sexy. 
WILLIS: Bullshit. The fact is, fuck scenes 
are just hard work. They are the most 
uncomfortable acting days you will ever 
experience. You're naked in front of 90 
people with, most of the time, a woman 
you hardly know. You're trying to devel- 
op a language of intimacy to make the 
scene believable. Everybody is watching. 
You're bare-ass naked. You're sweating. 
Some guy says, "I can see your dick. 
Tuck your dick in." "I can see your 
breast, honey. Your nipple's showing. 
Move your arm." It's very unsexy. By the 
time it gets on-screen it's hot, but that's a 
fabrication. Гуе heard stories about how 
some people really get into it and are 
lovers in real life, but that's never hap- 
pened for me. 
PLAYBOY: Did you have any hesitation 
about how far you went in the sex scenes 
in Color of Night? 
witus: I didn’t have any hesitation about. 
doing them at the time, hecause the di- 
rector assured me that I would be able to 
look at the footage and tell him what 
scenes 1 didn't want used. 1 would have 
been able to say, “I really don’t want to 
see my cock dangling in the fucking 
1” 


pool. 
PLAYBOY: Then what happened? 

WILLIS: When the movie was completed, 
there was a big brouhaha because no one 
involved with getting the film out agreed 
with the director's ага Rush's] cut. 
He had his own artistic idea, which was 
of a much longer and more languid 
movie, He got territorial and thought 
they were taking his film away, which 
wasn't the case. Everybody just wanted 
the movie to move faster and to be more 
commercial. A settlement was negotiated 
that allowed him to do a director's cut 
for the video version. In the video, there 
are shots of my cock. He assured me it 
wouldn't happen, but it did. I didn't 
write out an agreement with him be- 
cause I trusted him. And now it's there 
forever on laser disc. Who cares? 
PLAYBOY: Sharon Stone says she was 
promised that her famous crotch shot 
in Basic [nstinct wasn't going to be used, 
cither. 

миц: Well, my film didn't do $250 mil- 
lion. If it had, because my dick was 
what the hell. The point is, it's difficult. 
being lied to and deceived. If you tell me 
you're going to do something, I take you 
at your word. All you have is your word 
and how you behave. My wife is more 


forgiving of bad behavior in this business 
than 1 am. I don't forget. Demi is much 
more generous to people who don't have 
integrity all the time. I say, “Look, either 
you have integrity or you don't. And if 
you don't, get the fuck out of here. 1 
don't want to deal with you, I don't want 
to talk to you." I don't know if there's 
any other business more ruthless than 
the movie industry. 

PLAYBOY: Is it frustrating that your work 
as an actor is so thoroughly tied to the 
enormous, occasionally unscrupulous, 
Hollywood machine? 

WILLIS: It’s the most frustrating part of 
what 1 do. Making films and telling sto- 
ries in a cinematic way is an art form, but 
the movie business is concerned not with 
art but with money. It's all about the stu- 
dios' accumulation of large amounts of 
dough. If you star in their films and 
they're putting all this money on the 
table, they are also saying, “OK, Champ, 
make this a big hit.” It's easy to forget 
that you're there to act. Instead, you're 
pulled into the game of worrying about 
how much money this thing is costing, 
how much it's going to make, how it's 
marketed. In the past I've worried about 
all that, but now I show up as an actor 
and do my job and let the others worry 
about thc rest. 

PLAYBOY: Therefore, after big-salary, 
mainstream films that bring in more 
than $100 million, is it riskier for you to 
take on smaller, quirkier roles? 

WILLIS: I kind of got slung into being the 
star, both on TV and in movies. I never 
went through the phase of playing sup- 
porüng roles, so I have alot of fun doing 
them now. I've done a lot of films in the 
past couple ycars just because 1 wanted 
to do them. I have worked for little or no 
money. I've done it because I like to act 
and 1 don't always want to be the big 
cheese up on the screen. 

PLAYBOY: Which of those roles are your 
favorites? 

маш: The ones in Nobody's Fool, Pulp 
Fiction, Billy Bathgate. 1 just did another 
job for Quentin Tarantino, working for 
two days on his new movie, Four Rooms. 
Nobody's Fool is a good example because it 
is such a simple movie. It’s about a 
man—Paul Newman's character—who 
makes a small change in his life. It's done 
in a subtle way, almost imperceptibly. It 
was very satisfying to tell a story like that. 
PLAYBOY: What was it like working with 
Newman? 

wiLus: He is unbelievable. Seventy years 
old and he still tries new things on every 
take. A guy like him wouldn't have to; he 
could just show up and be the star. But 
he wasnt that way for a minute. We 
spent a lot of time just cracking each oth- 
er up. It was a guy thing, trying to break 
each other's balls. It was a gas. It went by 
[saps fingers] like that. 

PLAYBOY: On your most recent movie, 
Twelve Monkeys, you worked with Brad 
Pitt. How does a veteran like Paul 


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PLAYBOY 


Newman compare with a relative new- 
comer like Pitt? 

WILLIS: You could draw a straight line be- 
tween those guys. They both want each 
take to be great, each take to be differ- 
ent. They are there to do the work, to try 
to paint a picture and tell the story as in- 
terestingly as possible. 

PLAYBOY: While filming Tivelve Monkeys, 
Pitt allegedly came to call you "O Great 
Bald One." 

wiLLIS: Yeah. My head was shaved for the 
film, which was weird. It's a scary, mon- 
strous look. Fortunately, I have a nice 
round head. What you don't want to do 
is shave and find out you have one of 
those misshapen pinheads. 

PLAYBOY. How did you get the role in 
Pulp Fiction? 

WILLIS: Harvey Keitel's little girl came 
over to the house one day to play with 
our girls. He came to get her. It was after 
he had done Bad Lieutenant and Reservoir 
Dogs. 1 was talking with him about those 
movies and he said, “You know, 
Quentin's doing a new film. There are a 
lot of good parts in it. You should talk to 
him." 1 got the script that day. Harvey 
happened to be having a barbecue at his 
house the next day and I walked down 
and met Quentin. We talked for a long 
time and I told him I wanted to be in the 
film. The script was so good. 

PLAYBOY: What was it that struck you? 
WILLIS: Well, the dialogue was perfect. 
There's so much real life in this wild sto- 
ry—that's what I like about it. The 
speech I have with Maria de Medeiros at 
the end is an example. I've just gone 
through this hellacious morning—worst 
morning of my life—and we have to get 
out of town. But I have to take the time 
to ask her about her breakfast—did she 
get blueberry pancakes like she wanted? 
Î know every guy in America understood 
that moment. I'm dying, my nose is bro- 
ken, I'm bloody and gashed up. “Oh, 
you didn't get the blueberry paricakes? 
I'm so sorry. What happened?” It was a 
great, great moment. And it was part of 
what made the film great. 

PLAYBOY: You've had some good luck 
with reviews, including those for Pulp 
Fiction, and some bad luck. How much 
power do critics have? 

WILLIS: If they put their mind to it, they 
can crush a movie or an actor. The criti- 
cal media in general can conspire to 
make people feel fucking stupid if they 
see a movie. It happened with Hudson 
Hawk. It had nothing to do with the film. 
PLAYBOY: Could that be sour grapes be- 
cause the film was trashed? 

WILLIS: No, because they were reviewing 
Hudson Hawk before anyone saw a frame 
of it. It was just my time to catch a beat- 
ing in the press. 

PLAYBOY: It sounds as if you imagine a 
conspiracy of critics sitting around in a 
room saying, "Let's get Wil 
wuus: That's almost what happens. 


50 They get together, go on these press jun- 


kets, hang out, influence one another. It 
doesn't happen by accident. A couple 
years ago it happened to Arnold 
Schwarzenegger. Last Action Hero was no 
better or worse than any other Schwarz- 
enegger film. But it was time for Arnold 
to catch it. We heard that the movie was 
a bomb before it was released. Look at 
what happened with Kevin Costner's 
Waterworld. Before anyone saw a frame, 
they were saying, “Bomb.” The way it 
works is that the media imply that every- 
body involved in the movie is stupid and 
you're stupid if you see it. That senti- 
ment can gain momentum. Soon you 
hear “Waterworld” and you go, “Ugh.” 
After the criticism I received for Hudson 
Hawk, I stood back and looked at how 
much power 1 was giving to these peo- 
ple. I thought, If they say I'm good, am 
1 good? If they say I suck, do I suck? I 
realized that wasn't the scale by which to 
measure oneself. 

PLAYBOY. Have the critics always been 
wrong when they have trashed your 
movies? 

маци: The only movie I would not do 
again, given the opportunity, is Bonfire of 


I didn't actually see the 
alleged breast incident. But 1 
heard stories that she flung it 
out, that she lifted it out and 


set it on the tray of a waiter. 


the Vanities. 

PLAYBOY: What went wrong with that 
movie? 

WILLIS: It was stillborn, dead before it 
ever got out of the box. It was another 
film that was reviewed before it hit the 
screen. The critical media didn't want to 
see a movie that cast the literary world in 
a shady light. In the reviews, they were 
recasting the film. They were saying, “If 
we were doing this film, we would cast 
William Hurt instead of Tom Hanks," or 
whatever. Well, if you were doing the 
film, then that might mean you had 
some fucking talent and knew how to tell 
a story instead of writing about what oth- 
er people are trying to do. But they were 
right. I was miscast. [ know that Tom 
Hanks thinks he was, too. The movie was 
based on a great book. But one problem 
with the story, when it came to the film, 
was that there was no one in it you could 
root for In most successful movies, 
there's someone to cheer on. 

PLAYBOY: You were also taken to task in 
The Devil's Candy, a brutal book about the 
making of the Bonfire movie written by 
Julie Salamon. Among much more, 
she said, "[Willis] was trapped by the 


itations of his range." 

WILLIS: Brian De Palma chose to have this 
girl corne on the set and write a book 
about the making of the film. But he ne- 
glected to tell the actors about it until she 
had already been skulking around for 
about four weeks. By the time we 
learned what she was doing, the damage 
was done. Basically, she decided to take a 
big shit on a bunch of people she would 
never get to be in her own life. I can say 
this about her: She had the worst fuck- 
ing breath of any organism I have ever 
encountered on the planet. You had to 
turn away when she talked to you. Julie 
Salamon and her ilk are parasites. It's 
just one of the more unpleasant things 
about being a public figure. They can say 
anything about you and they hound 
you. Ir's like anything else bad in the 
world. Air pollution. Car accidents. 1 
know we could probably go out to some 
newsstand right now and find something 
shitty that somebody has said about me. 
It sells magazines. So to all those people 
who have written shitty things about 
me for the past 11 years: Fuck you. I'm 
still here. 

PLAYBOY: Because you are under scrutiny 
by the press, are you more sympathetic 
when you read about scandals involving 
your peers? 

WILLIS: Ycah, and 1 know how much is 
completely made up. People think that if 
it’s written down, it must be true. What- 
ever they want to say is fine, man. Some 
of the harshest things ever said about 
anybody have been said about me. 1 just 
walk through it. Somebody's making 
money. It's a really shitty side of show 
business. It trades in human foibles, hu- 
man tragedy, human misbehavior and 
humiliation. And most of it isn't true. All 
they give a fuck about is selling this shit 
in the stores. 

PLAYBOY: So is it safe to assume that one 
recent press report—about Anna Nicole 
Smith licking your chest at an opening 
for one of your Planet Hollywood res- 
taurants—is untrue? 

WILLIS: [Laughs] All right. She did not lick 
my chest. As they say in sex movies, she 
simulated the act of licking me. She had 
a bit too much to drink, that's all. She 
was just a little frisky. It happens to 
everybody. 

PLAYBOY: And what about her exposing 
her breast onstage? 

WILLIS: 1 didn't actually see the alleged 
breast incident, because 1 had retreated 
to the guitar area of the stage. But I 
heard stories about it: that she flung it 
out, in one version, and that she lifted it 
out and set it on the tray of a waiter who 
happened to be passing by. There was 
every kind of fucking story. What I think 
actually happened is that one of them 
just shock loosc. Some women wear 
scanty outfits, and she's a big girl. 
PLAYBOY: So when was the last time you 
hit someone? 


(continued on page 76) 


SORT OF MAN READS PLAYBOY? 


He's a trailblazer. He lives for fresh powder on a Rocky Mountain moming. He knows when to jump 
a mogul and when to buy one a drink. He finds a similar sense of excitement in his favorite mag- 
azine. PLAYBOY readers spend $350 million a year on sporting equipment. Whether it's shopping 
or out on the slopes, one out of every eight downhill skiers is a PLAYBOY reader. What sort 
of man reads PLAYBOY? A man who's been to the mountaintop. (Source: Spring 1995 MRI.) 


52 


MEMO TO 
MICHAEL 
JACKSON 


in a desperate attempt to 
keep the gloved one from 
sinking into history, 

his public relations firm 

has come up with some 


radical solutions 


humor by JOE QUEENAN 


= he following is a copy of a con- 
fidential memorandum recently 
sent to the embattled pop star 
Michael Jackson by his longtime 
public relations firm, Images n’ 
Things. The letter was written by 
company president Slade Gruber. A copy of 
the memo was forwarded to this magazine by 
a disgruntled glove manufacturer. 

Dear Michael 

First ofall, a heartfelt apology. When 
we ran the numbers on the tykes, we 
figured on a maximum of 300 cases, at 
$15 million a pop, which would still 
leave you pretty Aush. Wrong! What 
happened is, when we tallied up the 
maximum hush-hush payout, we were 
using one of those dud Pentium chip 
computers, and it spat out these 
screwed-up numbers. Anyway, the 
figure we came up with was $45 mil- 
lion—chicken feed for a star of your lu- 
minous magnitude. But the correct 
figure is $4.5 billion, which puts you 
right up there in Bill Gates-Warren 
Buffett-George Soros territory. Like, 
sor-ree. 

We also feel we should apologize for 
that whole Diane Sawyer thing. As 
promised, she sucked long and hard, 
but somehow the American public 
came away with a bad taste in its 
mouth. Why? Frankly, Mike—and I 
have to level with you here—the public 
didn't fall for it. Any of it. The weepy 
stuff about kiddies? Not happening. 
The anguished protests about being la- 
beled an anti-Semite? Next contestant. 
The Lisa Marie lovey-dovey shtick? 
Hey, as Swifty Lazar—or was it Freddie 
de Cordova?—once said, you can fool 
some of the people some of the time, 
but Rome wasn't built in a day. 

We also want to apologize for our 
lack of progress on the LP front. We 


tried our best to push that story about 
your setting Billboard's all-time record 
with the first single off HIStory, but so 
far nobody has taken the bait. For rea- 
sons that are not entirely obvious, the 
record-buying public seems to have 
come away with a clear and present im- 
pression that HIStory sucks. Not that 
it does. But maybe releasing a video 
where you look like Benito Mussolini 
in drag wasn't such a good idea. Espe 
cially at a time when you're being ac- 
cused of anti-Semitism. Hey, I don't 
need to tell you, it's just one short step 
from Fascism to Nazism to anti-Semi- 
tism. And then you're really in trouble. 
Especially in a place like Los Angeles 

I know, I know, at this point you're 
probably asking yourself, What do I 
pay these assholes for? They tell me to 
stage a marriage with Elvis’ daughter, 
but no one buys it. They tell me to pre- 
tend to be a child abuse victim, but no 
one buys it. They tell me to say that I 
used the word kike on my last record to 
heighten public awareness of the anti- 
Semite lurking inside all of us, but no 
one buys it. And they tell me to set up 
the royal lube job with Diane Sawyer, 
but no one buys it. So what gives? 

In our defense, Mikey, let me remind 
you that until you started allegedly hit- 
ting on those alleged kids, we'd had a 
pretty good run. Remember how we 
handled the rhinoplasty controversy? 
Right, the septum got deviated. Re- 
member how we handled the rumors 
you were gay? Hey, you have to admit, 
the Brooke Shields ploy was top-shelf 
material. And don't forget how we han- 
dled all those questions about your 
weird skin color. Was that rare-pig- 
mentation-disease stuff inspired, or 
what? C'mon, Mikey, give it up: It was 
créme de la créme material. Fucking 


ILLUSTRATION BY JANET WOOLLEY 


PRSASYESOST 


créme de la créme. 

All that said, it's now obvious that 
your career has hit a rough patch. The 
record isn't selling. Teenagers think 
your dancing is corny. Black people 
think you're a sellout. Your videos are 
widely perceived as lame. Your little 
sister is hotter than you are. Your mar- 
riage is history. And Dawn Steel thinks 
you're an anti-Semite. You must be say- 
ing to yourself, Jesus H. Christ, if. 
Dawn Steel is bailing on me, what 
friends do I have left in this town? 

Hey, suck it up, bucko! As bad as 
things may seem at this moment, all 
is not lost. Other performers have 
dragged themselves up off the deck to 
breathe life into a moribund career. 
Frankie. Travolta. Jackie Mason. And, 
well, Rosemary Clooney. It could hap- 
pen to you, too. 

But nothing, I'm talking nothing, is 
going to happen unless you listen and 
listen good to what we have planned 
for you. We're talking about a complete 
image makeover. A complete reposi- 
tioning. We're talking about complete- 
ly reinventing yourself. Can it be done? 
You bet your ass it can. Remember, 
Mikey, Regis Philbin played Ed McMa- 
hon on a talk show with Joey Bishop 
and it didn't ruin his career. Barbra 
Streisand made a record filled with 
songs by Laura Nyro and Randy New- 
man and it didn't ruin her career. Mike 
Tyson fucking raped a girl and it didn't 
ruin his career. And Lana Turner's 
daughter killed a guy—fucking iced 
the son of a bitch—and it didn't ruin 
Lana's career. Just like it won't ruin 
OJ.'s—he'll be back on Fox doing side- 
line interviews by preseason. So I ask 
you, did you kill any of the kids you're 
accused of dicking around with? Did 
you? Because as long as the answer is 
no, I can think of no reason within the 
parameters of conventional reality why 
we can't get your care 
But you have to bc willing to stick with 
the program. Here, then, is the game 
plan for Operation Reposition: 


THE BIG LIE 


Does the name Mark Fuhrman mean 
anything to you? Well, it should. He's 
the dirtball LAPD cop who framed— 
I'm sorry, allegedly framed—O.J. The 
creep who said he bad never used the 
word nigger, when it turns out that 
some dipshit screenwriter from Ap- 
palachia had him saying it on tape 41 
times. Forty-one fucking times, Mikey! 
Anyway, he worked for the same LAPD 
that’s been on your case. Our propos- 
al? Accuse Fuhrman of scaring those 
kids into fingering you as the perp. 
Claim he planted those splotches—I 
mean, those alleged splotches—on 
your pecker. Say he coached the kids 
and their parents to say you're a wee- 


nie-wagger. Hey, this guy hates blacks 
And technically speaking . . . well, you 
are black, aren't you? We already know 
he used the word nigger at least 41 
times. This makes a nice, round 42. Ifa 
guy can beat the rap for spousal decap- 
itation just because some scuzzball flat- 
foot lied about his affection for the N 
word, there's no reason you can't beat 
the rap for molesting a bunch of kids. 
That is, for allegedly molesting a bunch 
of kids. We're on your side, cowboy. 
We're on your side big-time. 


CROSSOVER DREAMS 


OK, OK, so scamming. Fuhrman 
might be a bit of a stretch. But the 
linchpin of the LAPD's case are those 
funny splotches the kids allegedly spot- 
ted on your dingdong. One quick way 
to solve this problem is to ditch the ev- 
idence. That's right, M.J., I'm talking 
sex-change operation. Armed with the 
vulva and vagina of your choice, you'll 
dispose of the one remaining piece of 
evidence that could possibly be used 
against you. Not that it actually exists. 

A drastic measure? Sure. But look at 
the upside. You already have the voice 
of a woman, so you won't have to 
worry about any Mary Richards hassle. 
Or was it Rence Richards? Whatever. 
What's more, once you resurface as 
Michelle Jackson, you can compete 
with your sister for Pop-star suprema- 
су. You could even team up with La 
Toya and Janet in a television docudra- 
ma about the Supremes. You could be 
Diana. Some people already think you 
are Diana. It's an option, Mikey, that is 
all I'm saying. It's an option. 


THE MTV SPECIAL, 


Every raggedy-assed two-bit loser— 
not that you're one of them—has used 
MTV Unplugged to jump-start his pa- 
thetic career: Poison, Dylan, Neil 
Young, Springsteen, Rod Stewart. Am 
I suggesting you do an Unplugged with- 
out an electric band? No, I am not. Beat 
It would sound hopeless with mando- 
lins and harmonicas and acoustic gui- 
tars in the background. And the am- 
bient level on Unplugged is so low 
everyone can hear the words. Meaning 
the audience would hear that stuff 
about kikes. Bad idea: Jews watch MTV. 

My suggestion? An MTV special ti- 
Чеа Michael Jackson Undanced. Just like 
the rock stars who do stripped-down 
versions of their songs while sitting on 
a bar stool, you could do stripped- 
down versions of your songs while sit- 
ting on a swing. Basically, you could 
just dangle your legs and croon Thriller 
and Ben. It'd be, like, minimalist. Then 
the critics would write all this neat stuff 
about how you're getting back to your 
roots and returning to an earlier, sim- 
pler time before fame, fortune, inter- 


national adulation and inviting all 
those little kids into your bedroom to 
see the Elephant Man's bones turned 
the dream into a nightmare. People 
would do a cover: MICHAEL JACKSON- THE 
UNDANCED STORY. Sony would issue a 
double CD: Michael Jackson: Unloved, 
Unplugged, Undanced. Are you follow- 
ing me on this, Mikey? There is poten- 
tial here. 


THE DUET RECORD 


Another can't-miss proposition. Na- 
talic Cole was just another washed-up 
lounge lizardess before she made that 
Unforgeltable record with her long-gone 
dad. And Frankie, long past his prime, 
now has two Duets records to his name, 
both of which did major box office 
The same deal could work for you. 
Who are some of the artists you might 
hook up with? Tony Bennett. Mel Tor- 
mé. Probably not Sinéad. But maybe 
Jerry Vale. Its a stretch, but who 
knows, the public might decide that 
a Jerry Vale-Michael Jackson That's 
Amore is just what the doctor ordered. 
Anyway, Vale, Tormé, Sting, Pavarotti, 
people of that ilk. The only fly in the 
appointment is: These people are all 
sull alive. What made Natalic’s duet 
with her father so special was that he 
had been dead for 30 years, so you 
had a kind of wholesome necromantic 
thing going there. 

That's why we think our little twist 
might strike a chord with the public 
Mike, we want to hook you up with one 
singer, and one singer only: your own 
father-in-law, the King. The public 
would love it. Lisa Marie would love it. 
The whole fucking planet would love 
it. It would enable an entire solar sys- 
tem to bond. 

What material do we have in mind: 
Oh sure, you would want to cover Love 
Me Tender, Can't Help Falling in Love 
With You and all the other obvious Elvi: 
hits. But to really make things interest- 
ing—to show that you have an impish, 
self-effacing side—we think it would be 
a good idea to cover Song of the Shrimp 
and, of course, In the Ghetto. And isn't 
this a grabber for a record title: Girls! 
Girls! Girls! You know, to take people's 
minds offall that stuff about boys, boys, 
boys? Nothing personal. 


THE HUG 


We've established that you like kids, 
correct? What people don’t under- 
stand is the way you like them. Yes, you 
like to show your affection in a tactile 
way, but not that tactile. How, then, do 
you make it clear to the kid or kids 
you've offended that you didn’t mean 
anything by it? A good start is a nation- 
ally televised hug. Hugs are a vibrant 
and important part of American 

(continued on page 140) 


SATEEN, Raye Hollitt did more than kick the can with the boys in her neighborhood. "In fact,” she boasts 
kicked 


ir little butts." Even then the Pennsylvania tomboy was acting a lot like her future alter ego, Zap, the 
female head hunk on American Gladiators. The popular weekly coliseum games (a cult hit in 50 countries) com- 
bine the sexy sweatiness of roller derby with the hype of pro wrestling and the futuristic look of Mad Max. Zap, 
who was argua 's most alluring perspirer, outlasted the rest of the original stars—but now she's hung up her 


jousting stick after six seasons. "I'm lucky to have survived," admits Raye, who despite countless close calls has emerge 


bliss- 
56 


fully unscathed. Indeed, her fast track to stardom has been a wild ride. After graduating from high school with honors in 


PHOTOGRAPHY BY ARNY FREYTAG 


Although Zap's familiar long-tressed 
look is history, Raye is still a Samson at 
heart, lifting weights with any number 
of lucky spotting partners (above). “For 
years | could feel like a waman anly 
with men aver 6'3" and 250 pounds,” 
she says. “But naw | feel feminine na 
matter what kind af build my guy has.” 


TS: ROUGHEST, 
BUFFEST LADY WARRIOR 
GETS PHYSICAL 
LIKE NENER BEFORE 


accounting, she supported herself as a paralegal ("I'm so incredibly anal 
1 love that kind of job") while entering bodybuilding competitions. Then 
Raye went for the gold: She headed west to tackle the iron-pumping scene 
in Los Angeles, matching flexes with the best. “My plane landed, and 1 
asked the taxi driver to take me to the mecca of bodybuilding." That meant 
Gold's Gym in Venice Beach. 

Before you could clean and jerk, Raye muscled her way to a bodybuilding 


itle (Ms. Los Angeles), manhandled John Ritter in Blake Edwards’ Skin Deep 
John was great, especially in our nude scenes”) and then bagged the role of 
the brutal but beautiful Zap. “Gladiators was something America needed at 


"Dod is muscular, but Mom is as thin аз o rail,” nates Raye of her genetic gift. 
“They're both musicians who never tried sports." But Raye become a jock of oll 
trades: "Would you believe I was my hometown’s tap athlete and prom queen? | 
used to weigh 102 and wear size-one jeans,” she laughs. "Look at me now!” We are. 


the time of its inception,” reflects 
Raye, “a sporting event any house- 
wife or waitress could audition 
for.” But what was once “amateur 
friendly" soon became serious 
competition. “Now it's like football 
without the pads," says Raye. 
These days, with the school of 
hard knocks behind her, Raye 
much prefers to sip carrot juice 
and enjoy sunrises from the ter- 
race of her home on a Malibu 
bluff. Yet in some ways, the athlete 
formerly known as Zap has re- 
mained true to her killer instincts, 
notably in her stint on TV's /A.G. 
*1 played a Navy pilot," she says, 
“and shot enemy planes out of the 
sky." But before we could ask for 
a body count, Raye was gone. See 
you later, Gladiator. —bavip STINE 


4 f 1 | | 


БОРУ 


non 


62 


DEATH 
IN THE 
NDES 


the rebels are out 
for blood—but 
señora d'harcourt 
will tour the 


mountains anyway 


fiction by MARIO VARGAS LLOSA 


ARLY THAT morning, as she 

did whenever she was leav- 

ing On a trip, Señora d'Har- 

court woke while it was still 

dark, just seconds before the 
alarm went off. And with the same tin- 
gle of excitement she felt each time she 
traveled to the countryside, either for 
work оз for pleasure (they were indis- 
tinguishable as far as she was con- 
cerned), even though she had been do- 
ing it for nearly 30 years now. She 
dressed quickly, tiptoed out of the 
room so as not to wake her husband 
and went down to the kitchen to make 
coffee. She had left her packed bag by 
the front door the night before. As she 
was rinsing her cup, Marcelo appeared 
in the kitchen doorway, wearing his 
bathrobe and yawning, his feet bare, 
his hair tousled. 

“No matter how I try, I always make 
noise,” she apologized. “Or does my 
unconscious mind betray me? Perhaps 
I really want to wake you.” 

“TIl give you anything if you don't go 
to Huancavelica” He yawned again. 
“Shall we negotiate? 1 have my check- 
book right here.” 

"The moon and stars, just for open- 
ers,” she laughed, handing him a cup 
of coffee. "Don't be silly, Marcelo. I'm 
safer up there than you are going to 
the office. Statistically speaking, the 
streets of Lima are more dangerous 
than the Andes.” 

“I have never believed in statistics.” 
Yawning and stretching, he watched 
her, observing the orderliness with 
which she arranged cups, saucers and 
spoons in the cupboard. “I must say 
these trips of yours are going to give 
me an ulcer, Hortensia. If they don't 


give me a heart attack first.” 

“1 will bring you some nice fresh 
cheese from the sierra.” She brushed a 
lock of hair off his forehead. "Go back 
to bed and dream about me. Nothing 
will happen, don't be silly." 

Just then they heard the Jeep from 
the Ministry pull up outside, and Seño- 
va d'Harcouit huııied to leave. She 
kissed her husband, reassuring him 
that there was nothing to worry about 
and reminding him to send the enve- 
lope with the photographs from Yana- 
ga-Chemillén National Park to the 
Smithsonian. Marcelo accompanied 
her to the door, and when he said 
goodbye, he told Cañas, the engineer, 
what he always told him: “Bring her 
back safe and sound, Señor Cañas.” 

The streets of Lima were deserted 
and wet. In a few minutes the Jeep 
reached the central highway, where 
traffic was still fairly light. 

“Does your wife get as nervous as my 
husband does when you travel, Señor 
Cañas?” asked Señora d'Harcourt. In 
the milky glow o£dawn, they were leav- 
ing the lights of the city behind them. 

"A little," the engineer said, nodding. 
"But Mirta is not very good at geogra- 
phy, and she has no idea that we're go- 
ing into the lion's den." 

“The lion's den?" said the driver, and 
the Jeep bucked. "You should have 
told me before, Señor Cañas. Then I 
wouldn't have come. I'm not going to 
risk my neck for the miserable salary 
they pay me." 

“Pay us," Cañas laughed. 

“Pay the two of you," declared Seño- 
ra d'Harcourt. “1 don't earn a red cent. 
I do all this for the sake of art." 

“You know you love it, señora. You 


ILLUSTRATION BY JOSÉ LUIS CUEVAS 


PLAYBOY 


would pay them to let you do the 


Well, yes, that's true,” she admitted. 
“It fills my life. It must be that plants 
and animals have never deceived me, 
but people sometimes do." 

When they reached Matucana, the 
sun was beginning to break through 
between the hills. It was a dry, cold 
morning, and for the rest of the trip, as 
they crossed the frozen peaks of La 
Oroya and the temperate Jauja Valley, 
the engineer and Señora d’Harcourt 
were planning how to obtain new back- 
ers for the reforestation project in the 
Huancavelica sierra, which had been 
sponsored by the FAO and Holland. 
They were now going to inspect the 
early results. It was a victory they had 
celebrated together a few months earli- 
er at a Chinese restaurant in San 
Isidro. Close to four years of meetings, 
memos, conferences, articles, letters, 
negotiations, recommendations, and 
finally success. The project was under 
way. Instead of being limited to herd- 
ing and subsistence farming, indige- 
nous communities would begin to raise 
trees. In a few years, with adequate 
funding, leafy quenua forests would 
once again give shade to those caves 
filled with magical inscriptions, draw- 
ings and messages from remote ances- 
tors. And as soon as there was peace 
again, archaeologists from all over the 
world could come to decipher them 

They reached Huancayo in the early 
afternoon and stopped to have a quick 
lunch and allow the driver to fill the 
Jeep's tank and check the motor and 
tires. They went into a restaurant on a 
corner of the square. 

“1 almost persuaded the Spanish am- 
bassador to come along,” Señora 
d'Harcourt told the engineer. “He 
couldn't because he had to meet with 
some kind of delegation from Madrid. 
He promised me he would come the 
nexttime, and that he'd make inquiries 
to see if the Spanish government will 
help us. It seems ecology is becoming 
fashionable there, too.” 

“I'd like to visit Spain," said Cañas. 
“My maternal grandfather came from 
Galicia. 1 must still have relatives over 
there.” 

They could barely talk during the 
second part of the trip because of the 


the ruined highway. The ruts and fall- 
en rocks between Acostambo and Iz- 
cuchaca were so severe that they almost 
turned back. They clutched at their 
seats and at the roof, but with every 
pothole they crashed into each other 
and were almost thrown from the Jeep. 
The driver was enjoying it, shouting, 
“Look out below!” and ild bull on 
the loose!” It was dark by the time they 
reached Huancavelica. They had put 


on sweaters, gloves and scarves to pro- 
tect themselves from the cold. 

The prefect, who had received in- 
structions from Lima, met them at the 
Hotel de Turistas. He waited while they 
cleaned up and invited them to have 
supper with him in the hotel. They 
were joined by the two technicians 
from the Ministry who would accompa- 
ny them and by the garrison com- 
mander, a short, cordial man who 
saluted in military fashion and then 
shook hands. 

“It’s a great honor to welcome some- 
one so important, señora,” the com- 
mander said, removing his cap. "I al- 
ways read your page in El Comercio. 
And I've read your book on the Huay- 
las Canyon. What a shame I don't have 
it with me now so you could sign it." 

He told them that the patrol was 
ready; they could start their inspection 
atseven the next morning. 

"Patrol?" Señora d'Harcourt said, 
questioning the engineer with her eyes 

“1 explained to you we didn't want 
an escort," Cañas said to the prefect. 

"1 conveyed that information to the 
commander,” the prefect replied with a 
shrug. "But the crew doesn't give or- 
ders, the captain does. This is an emer- 
gency zone under military authority." 

“I'm very sorry, but 1 can't allow you 
people to go up there without protec- 
tion," the commander informed them. 
He was a young man with a carefully 
trimmed mustache, and he was making 
an effort to be pleasant. “Señora, it's a 
dangerous area. The subversives call it 
‘liberated territory.’ I can't assume the 
responsibility. I assure you the patrol 
will not interfere in any way." 

Senora d'Harcourt sighed and ex- 
changed dejected looks with the engi- 
neer. She would have to explain her 
position to the commander, as she had 
explained it to prefects, subprefects, 
captains, majors, commanders, Civil 
Guards, National Guards and ordinary 
soldiers ever since violence began to fill 
these mountains with corpses, fear and 
phantoms 

"We're not political and we have 
nothing to do with politics, Command- 
er. Our concern is nature, the environ- 
ment, the animals and plants. We don't 
work for this government; we work for 
Peru. All of Peru. The military as well 
as those hotheads. Don't you under- 
stand? If they see us surrounded by 
soldiers, they'll have a false impression 
of who we are and what we do. I ap- 
preciate your good intentions, but I as- 
sure you we don't need anyone to take 
care of us. Our best protection is to go 
alone and prove that we have nothing 
to hide." 

"The commander was not convinced. 
It had been rash enough to travel over- 
land from Huancayo to Huancavelica, 


where there had been dozens of as- 
saults and ambushes. He apologized 
for insisting. They might think him im- 
pertinent, but it was his obligation and 
he wanted no recriminations later. 

“We'll sign a paper freeing you of all 
responsibility, Cañas proposed. "Don't 
take offense, Commander, but for our 
work we shouldn't be identified with 
the military. 

The discussion ended only when 
Señora d'Harcourt declared that if the 
officer insisted, she would cancel the 
expedition. The commander drew up 
a document and had the prefect and 
the two technicians sign as witnesses. 

"You're a hard man,” Señora d'Har- 
court commented in a conciliatory way 
when she said goodnight. “But thank 
you for your kindness. Let me have 
your address, and ГІЇ send you a book 
of mine on the Colca Valley that's com- 
ing out soon. It has some very nice 
photographs." 

Señora d'Harcourt went to Mass the 
next morning at the Church of Saint 
Sebastian, where she spent some time 
looking at its majestic colonial arches 
and antique retables of sleepy-eyed 
archangels. They left in two vehicles, 
she and the engineer in the Jeep, the 
technicians and the prefect in an old 
black Ford. On the road to the Santa 
Bárbara mines they encountered a pa- 
trol of soldiers who carried their rifles 
with fixed bayonets and seemed ready 
to fire. A few kilometers farther on, the 
road became an indistinct trail, and the 
Jeep reduced its speed so as not to 
leave the Ford too far behind. For an 
hour or two they drove up and down 
hills through the semidesert, passing a 
succession of barren mountains. On 
the slopes, in occasional touches of life 
and color, a few huts came into view, as 
did fields planted in potatoes, barley, 
beans, oca and mashua, The Ford was 
no longer in sight. 

“The last time I was here, there 
weren't so many painted slogans and 
red flags,” Cañas observed. “What the 
commander said must be true. It seems 
they control this area.” 

“I just hope that doesn't interfere 
with the reforestation project,” said 
Sefiora d'Harcourt. “That would be 
too much. Four years to get the project 
off the ground, and when it finally 
happens —" 

“1 haven't put in my two cents yet, 
and that's a fact," the driver interject- 
ed. “But if you ask me, 1 would have 
felt a lot happier with that escort.” 

“Then they would have thought we 
were their enemies,” said Señora 
d'Harcourt, “and we're not. We're not 
anybody's enemies. We are w 
them, too. Don't you under 

“I do understand, señora,” the man 
grumbled. “1 only hope they do. 


"Oh, no—you’re not hiding the view . . . quite the contrary. . . Y 


65 


PLAYBOY 


66 


Haven't you seen on TV how brutal 
they are?” 

“I never watch television," replied 
Señora d'Harcourt. "That must be why 
1 feel so calm.” 

At dusk they reached the Indian 
community of Huayllarajcra, where 
one of the nurseries was in operation. 
The campesinos came there for the 
queñua seedlings and planted them 
around their fields and along the banks 
of lagoons and streams. The village 
center—a small church with a tile roof 
and collapsed tower, a little adobe 
school, a cobblestone square—was al- 
most deserted. But the mayor and el- 
ders of Huayllarajcra, their staffs of au- 
thority in hand, showed them around 
the nursery, which had been built by 
communal labor. They seemed enthu- 
siastic about the reforestation program 
and said that until now all the co- 
muneros had lived in the highlands, iso- 
lated from one another. But if the plans 
to bring them together were to become 
a reality, they would have electricity 
and drinkable water. In the fading light 
they could still make out the vast ex- 
panse around them, with its patchwork 
of cultivated fields and a terrain that 
grew stonier as it rose and disappeared 
into the clouds. The engineer took a 
deep breath and spread his arms wide 

“I lose all my Lima neuroses in this 
landscape.” he exclaimed. pointing 
around him in excitement. “Don't you, 
señora? We should have brought a lit- 
tle bottle of something for the cold.” 

Next to the nursery was a shack 
where meals were served. The family 
that used to live in the house had been 
reduced to one old woman, who would 
not explain where her kinfolk had 
gone, or why. The place was empty ex- 
cept for a small cot. The woman said 
nothing and busied herself with tend- 
ing the fire, stirring the pot, keeping 
her back to them. The mayor and el- 
ders returned to their houses. The two 
watchmen at the nursery had gone into 
their hut and barred the door. The lit- 
tle reed corral, where Señora d'Har- 
court recalled seeing sheep and chick- 
ens, was empty, the stakes pulled out of 
the ground. A ragged piece of red flan- 
nel fluttered on a stick setinto heaps of 
straw оп the roof. 

By the time the prefect and the tech- 
nicians drove into Huayllarajcra in the 
Ford, the stars were shining in a deep 
black sky. The engineer and Señora 
d'Harcourt were unpacking. They had 
set up their sleeping bags in a corner 
and inflated their air pillows and were 
heating their coffee on a portable 
Primus stove. 

“We thought you'd had an accident,” 
Cañas greeted them. "I was ready to go 
out and look for you.” 

But the prefect was a different per- 


son; the helpful, good-natured little 
man from Huancavelica was beside 
himself. They had, in fact, had a flat 
tire, but that wasn't why he was frantic. 

“We have to go back immediately,” 
he ordered as he dimbed out of the car. 
“We cannot spend the night here, ab- 
solutely not.” 

“Have some coffee and a biscuit and 
enjoy the view,” the engineer said, try- 
ing to calm him. "You can't see this 
anywhere else in the world. Take it 
easy, friend.” 

“Don't you know what's going on?” 
The prefect raised his voice. His chin 
trembled and he squeezed his eyes 
open and shut as if his vision had 
blurred. “Haven't you seen the slogans 
painted all along the road? Isn't there a 
red flag right over our heads? The 
commander was right. This is sheer 
recklessness. We can't expose ourselves 
like this. And you least of all, señora.” 

“We've come here to do work that 
has nothing to do with politics,” she 
said, in an effort to reassure him. “But 
if you feel unsafe, you can go back to 
the city.” 

"I'm no coward.” The prefect’s voice 
changed and he spoke with wounded 
pride. “But this is foolhardy. We're in 
danger. None of us can spend the night 
here. Not me, not the technicians, not 
the engineer. Listen to me: We've got 
to leave. We can come back with the pa- 
trol. Don't put other people's lives at 
risk, señora.” 

Cañas turned toward the two techni- 
cians, who were listening in silence. 

They were fairly young and wore 
poor men's clothing. They seemed un- 
comfortable and exchanged glances, 
not saying anything. 

“Please, don't feel obliged,” Señora 
d’Harcourt intervened, “If you would 
rather go back, you can.” 

"Are you staying, Señor Cañas?” one 
of them finally asked in a northern 
accent. 

“Absolutely,” he said. "We've fought 
too long to establish this project, to ger 
money from the FAO and the Dutch. 
I'm not going to retreat just when it's 
getting under way." 

"Then we'll stay, too," said the one 
who asked the question. "God's will 
be done." 

"I'm very sorry, but I'm leaving,” de- 
clared the prefect. "I hold political 
office. If they come, I'm done for. I'll 
ask the commander to send the patrol 
for you." 

"Under no circumstances," Señora 
d'Harcourt replied, offcring him her 
hand. "You can go, but don't do any- 
thing else. ГІ see you in Huancavelica 
in a few days. Have a good trip back. 
And don't worry about us. Somebody 
up there is taking better care of us than 
any patrol could." 


They unloaded the technicians’ blan- 
kets and packs and watched the Ford 
drive away into the darkness. 

“It's crazy to travel alone at night 
along these roads,” murmured one of 
the technicians. 

For some time they worked in si- 
lence, making preparations to spend 
the night in the small house. After serv- 
ing them a very spicy soup with chunks 
of yuca, the old woman lay down on 
her cot. They arranged their sleeping 
bags and blankets side by side, then 
built a fire and sat next to it, watching 
the stars twinkle and multiply. They 
had ham, chicken and avocado sand- 
wiches, and Señora d'Harcourt passed 
around pieces of chocolate for dessert. 
They ate slowly, talking about the next 
day's itinerary and their families in 
Lima. The northern technician, who 
came from Pacasmayo, spoke of his 
fiancée in Trujillo. Last year she had 
won second prize in a folk-dance com- 
petition. Then the conversation cen- 
tered on how bright, how infinite in 
number, the stars were when viewed 
from the Andean peaks. 

Señora d'Harcourt changed the di- 
rection of their talk abruptly. “I've 
been traveling in Peru for 30 years and 
never dreamed that things like this 
could happen one day.” 

The engineer, the technicians and 
the driver were silent, reflecting on her 
words. Later they went to sleep, fully 
dressed. 


They arrived at dawn, just as the 
party of travelers was waking up 
‘There were about 50 of them: men, 
women, many young people, a few 
children, most of them campesinos but 
also some urban mestizos, in jackets, 
ponchos, sneakers, sandals, jeans and 
sweaters embroidered with crude fig- 
ures in the style that decorates pre-His- 
panic pottery. On their heads they 
wore mountain caps with earflaps, 
berets or hats, and some hid their faces 
with balaclavas. They were poorly 
armed: Only three or four carried 
Kalashnikovs; the others had shotguns, 
revolvers, hunting carbines or simple 
machetes and sticks. The old cook had 
disappeared. 

“You don't need to point those guns 
at us,” said Señora d'Harcourt, step- 
ping forward. “We're not armed, and 
we won't try to run away. Can I speak 
with your leader? To explain what 
we're doing here?” 

No one answered her. No order was 
given, but they all seemed well trained, 
for in twos and threes they separated 
from the larger group and surrounded 
each of the five, searched them careful- 
ly and took everything they had in 

(continued on page 151) 


CYBER 


fashion 


into the night with the 


latest in tight and bright 


clothes for club crawlers 


by. 
HOLEFS WAYNE 


When it comes to the clothes 
you wear for clubbing, syn- 
thetic fabrics strike a hot 
note. His outfit includes а 
mesh buttondown shirt with 
patch pockets, by Katharine 
Нотпећ Denim ($100), 
leather jeans by DKNY ($650) 
and patent leather shoes by 
Kenneth Cale ($145). 


PHOTOGRAPHY BY CHUCK BAKER 


“Meat 


~e. 


á 


4 


“Bumping Seventies-style in 


clothes also reminiscent of 
the disco era, he combines 
a translucent jacket made 
of polyester, nylon and 
polyurethane, by Searle 
(5210), with a mesh zip- 
neck polo shirt by MNW 
Wardrobe ($155), stretch 
pants with piping down the 
sides, by Istante ($1600), 
end leather high-vamp 
loafers with welt stitching, 
from Wannabe by Patrick 
Cox (abaut $180). 


nergy surges in today’s club 
scene, whether you're hanging 
out at the Good Luck Bar in Los 
Angeles or rocking in your 
patent leathers on the dance 
floor of Coney Island High in 
Manhattan (where we photographed this fea- 
ture). Clothes that are tight and skinny, such 
as painted-on pants and body-hugging shirts, 
are after-dark winners. What makes these 
cyberfashions work are their shiny, synthet- 

ic fabrics that stretch for a perfect fit. Col- 
ors are important, too, and flashy, fluores- 
cent brights are a great way to get noticed 
on the dance floor. Pants are cut to be worn 
low on the hip, but high in thecrotch, with 
wide belts. We like black—and for an 
over-the-top look, black worn with a white 
belt and a pair of white slip-ons. Leather 
jeans in unexpected colors, such as red, 
also look slick, as do tight-fitting, jeans | 
style pants with stripes down the legs 

and color-trimmed pockets. Also check 

out satin-look racing jackets and jog- 
ging-style bottoms. Pair these with a 
solid-color zip-front shirt, or with a 

basic black or vivid T-shirt. 


Above: This fashionable club crawler 
teoms a three-button rayon-and-ny- 
Ion jocket with zipper-slash pockets, 
by DKNY ($450), with a viscose jer- 
sey-knit shirt by Moschino ($420), 
plaid twill pants by l'Energia ($139) 
ond a studded leather belt by Versus 
(5270). Left: Neon brights are big, 
‘and his yellow snap-front jacket by 
Versus ($650) is the perfect partner 
to a black V-neck T-shirt by Girbaud 
(555), white jeans by Joop Jeans 
($140) and a white leather belt with 
а square buckle, by Iceberg Jeans 
(abaut $95). 


WOMEN'S STYLING BY USA VON WEISE 
FOR MAREK 4 ASSOCIATES 


HAIRANO MAKEUP BY DAWN JACOBSON 
FOR STREETERS 


outfit includes a Tencel-and- 
nylon zip-front overshirt with 
snap cuffs, by Joop Jeans 
(5130), polyamide jogging- 
style pull-on pants with mul- 
ticolored side stripes and on 
elostic waist, by l'Energio 
($129), and Air Mox sneakers 
with neon detoils, by Nike 
(5140). Under the jacket, we 
suggest wearing a colorful 
tight-fitting V-neck T-shirt. 


ка 


YU 


ы 


WHERE & HOW TO BUY ОМ PAGE 151. 


Back-to-back retro: His long- 
sleeved cotton sweater by 
UEnergia (about $130) fea- 
tures multicolored vertical 
stripes, a plastic-patch breast 
pocket and sports-style num- 
bers on the back. It’s com- 
bined with a pair of cotton- 
and-Lycra knit five-pocket 
jeans by Girbaud ($110) and 
a white leather belt with a 
military slide buckle, by Ice- 
berg Jeans ($110). 


72 


article by TURK PIPKIN 
our writer goes on a 

double-date vasectomy 

with harry anderson—yes, 


that harry anderson 


DONT know about you, but be- 

forc I would let someone set 

my testicles on fire, 1'd be 

damn sure 1 didn't want to 
have any more kids. And when you get 
2 vasectomy, guys, that's what they do: 
set your balls on fire. I've seen the 
white smoke spiraling from my groin 
and sniffed the bittersweet aroma of 
my burning genitalia. It's not so alarm- 
ingas the smell of napalm in the morn- 
ing, but it is close. 

On the other hand, there comes a 
time when you have to say, Enough is 
enough. Even though I always liked 
the idea of a big family, my wife and I 


GREAT 
Se 


FIRE 


agreed after the birth of our second 
child a year ago that we had filled our 
quota. Like a lot of couples in their 30s, 
it had taken us years to get pregnant 
"That's years of wild, carefree sex, do- 
ing it like teenagers at the drop of a 
zipper, whenever and wherever we felt 
like it. It had been almost a decade 
since we had used any serious birth 
control, and neither the side effects of 
the pill nor a wallet full of sheepskin 
dick-waders sounded exciting. To put 
it bluntly: We were tired of fucking 
with birth control. We wanted to do it 
the way it’s meant to be: skin to skin, 
but without producing any more off- 
spring. What's the advantage of a 15- 
year monogamous relationship in the 


ILLUSTRATION BY ROBERT GUSTI 


PLAYUOY 


74 


time of AIDS if you can't do what you 
want with your own true love? 

Truthfully, it was hard to argue 
against it. I’m no spring chicken, and 
though my wife occasionally gets asked 
for an ID when she's out for a drink— 
something she's darn proud of, I guar- 
antee—neither of us relish the idea of 
raising kids when we're past retire- 
ment age. It was never mentioned, but 
I imagine my wife also liked the idea 
that I wasn't trying to preserve my op- 
tions for a future midlife crisis and off- 
spring with a bimbo to be named at a 
later date. 

To top it off, the whole thing was 
damn near free. Not that many years 
ago, few health insurance companies 
would pay for vasectomies, but most of 
them have now reconsidered, knowing 
that it's a heck of a lot cheaper to shell 
out five hundred bucks once than to 
pay thousands in medical and dental 
on a child. 

Among the permanent birth controls 
available, a vasectomy—permanently 
cutting the vasa deferentia, which carry 
sperm from the testicles to their ap- 
pointed destination—is clearly the sim- 
plest and safest. ‘Tubal ligation, by con- 
trast, involves surgical entry through 
the woman's belly button, which— 
much as I hated to admit it—sounded 
even worse than messing with my balls. 
Suill, ше а уасиошу LO шом men 
and they'll double over in mock pain 
like someone uttered the word castra- 
tion. Get over it, guys. Sometimes a 
man's got to be a man—or half a man, 
if that’s what it takes. 


My mind was already made up when 
my buddy Harry Anderson came into 
the picture, and that’s when the going 
got weird. After Harry's sitcom Dave's 
World filmed an episode about Dave 
getting a vasectomy, Harry told me he 
was ready to subject himself to the un- 
kindest cut. And, Harry reasoned, as 
long as we both were going to suffer, 
why should we suffer alone? The next 
thing I knew he was suggesting a road 
trip to Vegas for double vasectomies on 
the Fourth of July, our very own decla- 
ration of independence. 

This so-called vasectomathon would 
be performed by a fan of Harry's, a 
gonzo urologist with the unlikely name 
of Dr. Rod, and Rod's busty, I mean 
trusty assistant, Nurse Kielbasa. Surely, 
I thought, Harry was yanking my 
chain with some grand practical joke. 
But one call to Rod's office confirmed 
that we were in for a road trip worthy 
of Hunter S. Thompson himself. Call it 
Fear of Loving in Las Vegas. 

Despite all the dick jokes that kept 
popping up like erections in a boys’ 


choir, in the bottom of my scrotum 1 
had a feeling I was headed for an ugly 
scene. My wife, however, was so enam- 
ored of my vasectomy that when I sug- 
gested I receive a commemorative blow 
Job every year on the Fourth of July, 
she readily agreed to the deal. 

I was packing my jockstrap when 
Harry called with the disappointing 
news that Dr. Rod was either indis- 
posed or had left the state (which, now 
that I think about it, seems to happen 
to a lot of Harry's friends in Nevada). 
Not wanting to know any more about 
this than was necessary, I simply had to 
admit that the game had been called 
without so much as a single foul ball. 

About to lose a lifetime of scheduled 
head—an unparalleled signing perk— 
I decided it was time to take matters in- 
to my own hands, so to speak. Harry 
declined my offer of a visit from the 
mobile vet (who was already coming 
out to neuter the cat), so I suggested 
dueling vasectomies with a legendary 
Austin urologist by the name of Dr. 
Chopp. That's Dr. Richard Chopp, yes, 
asin Dick Chopp. Tell me truthfully, how 
could Harry decline? I had called his 
elementary-school Nurse Kielbasa gag 
and raised him a doctoral dick joke. 

° 


After an unscheduled layover at the 
DFW airport bar, Harry got off the 
plane in Austin already anesthetized 
for his vasectomy, which wasn't sched- 
uled until the next day. He had a 
crazed look in his eye and a cheap bot- 
tle of warm champagne the stewardess- 
es had given him in celebration of his 
impending bravery. 

"T panicked on the way to the air- 
port," he told me as we waited in front. 
of baggage claim swilling the bad bub- 
bly, "and decided maybe I should make 
a deposit at a sperm bank. But it was 
the weekend—I had to use an ATM.” 

"Well, I hope they get it in the right 
account," I replied, as a nearby woman 
rushed her two French poodles away 
so they wouldn't have to hear us act 
like total dicks (something we would be 
incapable of in less than 24 hours). 

We'd pretty much sobered up by the 
time we walked into Dr. Chopp's office 
the following morning, both a little ap- 
prehensive but determined to go 
through with it. “It’s for my wife,” said 
Harry, “and for me that’s the bottom 
line.” Of course, right after that noble 
statement, he told the receptionist, “I 
don't want you to think I'm nervous— 
but you can cut 'em if you can find 'em.” 

Harry went first, which was my idea. 
Not hearing any loud screams, I soon 
followed Chopp into his office for some 
last-minute counseling about the dim 
prospects of vasectomy-reversal opera- 


tions. I told him I had already been in- 
formed that the procedure would not 
change my sexual behavior—which 
came as quite a disappointment to my 
wife. He didn't find anything funny in 
that quip, or in anything else 1 said. 
Shoot, I was hoping for Shecky Green 
in a lab coat doing a lounge act for my 
bollocks and me: “What do you say to a 
guy with five penises? Say, those pants 
ht like a glove!” Despite his name, Dick 
Chopp turned out to be quiet, efficient 
and bordering on humorless. Sucking 
to a wellrehearsed routine, Chopp 
verified that I didn't want to have any 
more children, then reassured me that 
a decade-old preliminary study which 
suggested a relationship between va- 
sectomies and prostate cancer had re- 
cently been debunked by several med- 
ical surveys. But you can be damn sure 
I had verified that already. 

I would have preferred to have my 
family jewels lathered and shaved by a 
beautiful blonde—I never have found 
out what Nurse Kielbasa looks like— 
but had to settle for an efficient razor- 
ing by a male nurse with the name of 
Gene Manly. With the irony of the 
names starting to overwhelm me, I 
asked Chopp how he ended up as 
a urologist doing vasectomies and 
Circumcisions. 

“Destiny.” he answered in total dead- 
pan as he picked up a long syringe with 
one hand and my nuts with the other. 

So I asked Manly, who was arranging 
the scalpels on a tray, how a guy with 
his moniker came to be an assistant to 
the nutty professor, and Manlv said, 
"Coincidence." 

Finally, I asked an orderly how a guy 
with a completely normal name came 
to be working with Dick Chopp and 
Gene Manly. 

"I was here first,” he replied without 
batting an eye. 

° 


For all you guys out there who are 
considering a vasectomy and would 
like to know what specific medical de- 
lights await you, the bottom line is: If 
you've ever had a medium-swift kick in 
the nuts—make that two kicks in the 
nuts—then you know what to expect. 
After you've been swabbed and shaved, 
the doc will sncak up on you with a 
needleful of local ancsthetic and prob- 
ably tell you it will hurt a bit. You may 
even flinch when the needle gives your 
scrotum a little prick—so to speak but. 
when the urologist sticks the needle di- 
rectly into your vas deferens, it truly 
feels like you walked too close behind a 
nervous mule. 

Once the anesthetic takes hold, your 

(concluded on page 139) 


“TIL be a little late this morning, boss. Му wife's having 
a bad case of morning sickness.” 


75 


PLAYBOY 


76 


BRUCE WILLIS. ee 50) 


I have bodyguards to protect other people. I don't 
want to punch somebody's lights out and get sued. 


WILLIS: I haven't hit anybody, I don’t 
know, probably since the carly Eight- 
ies. 1 came close to smacking somebody 
at the Die Hard With a Vengeance pre- 
miere. I'm having a great time. There's 
a guy—H'm not going to tell you who— 
and I'm sure his boss had told him, 
“Go be an asshole and try to instigate 
something." But for no reason—as far 
as I knew at the time—this guy is say- 
ing shit about my old lady. He's going, 
"Are you gonna dump Demi when she 
gets dumpy?" Shit like that. I'm like, 
"What is this, fucking Satan here? 
say, "Hey, what's the matter with you?" 
A little later he's saying something else 
shitty to me. I say, “Hey, motherfucker, 
what's wrong with you? Stop! Get out 
of here.” 1 tell somebody about him 
and they go to throw him out, but 
he sneaks around again. I’m standing 
there talking to somebody and he says 
one more really shitty thing about my 
wife. I was this close. “Hey, let me ex- 
plain something to you. You may think 
Um a fucking celebrity and above 
punching your lights out. but you're a 
fucking cunt hair away from going 
down and having to spit your fucking 
teeth out.” It stopped after that. That 
was the closest I've come in a long time. 
PLAYBOY: Are you extra careful because 
you could be sued? 

WILLIS: Yeah. Once you become a public 
figure, all someone has to do is take a 
swing at you, and if you hit them, you 
can be sued. They have a good shot at 
getting some money, at least a settle- 
ment. I'm not interested in getting 
fucked like that. People ask why I have 
bodyguards. For two reasons. One is 
for my kids, when I travel with them. 
The other isn't to protect me from peo- 
ple but to protect other people from 
me. 1 don't want to punch somebody's 
lights out and then get sued. 

PLAYBOY: Is it your nature just to start 
swinging? 

WILLIS: Let's just say there are some 
things about me that I'll never com- 
pletely eliminate. One is that there's 
only so far ГЇЇ go, and then I'm going 
to hit you, no matter what. I don't give 
a fuck if I have to pay a million dollars. 
I can be gotten to. I wanted to punch 
someone the other day after 1 saw this 
talk show. If these shows were really 
about helping people—if they were re- 
ally about helping child molesters or 
their victims—you might see another 
side. But there is no other side. 1 saw a 
Maury Povich show on which he had 


nine- and ten-year-old children who 
had watched their moms and dads 
shoot cach other. For the opening of 
the show, they played tapes of the 911 
calls. The kids are screaming [mimics a 
child screaming] and then you hear pow! 
pow!, then more screams. Then Povich 
interviews the kids and gets them cry- 
ing again. They play the tape again, 
this time while the kids are sitting 
there. I wanted to punch Maury Povich 
in the fucking face. He's making mon- 
ey off of these children. Somewhere 
in some sleazy, slime-encrusted back 
room, money is changing hands—from 
the people who advertise on Maury 
Povich's fucking show to these little 
kids, who not only had to go through it 
but have to relive it. The producers jus- 
tify it by saying, “Here, son, we're go- 
ing to pay you. Here’s some money.” 
It's the downfall of fucking civilization. 
You tell me we're a civilized planet? 
Watch any of these shows any day. 
PLAYBOY: Yet people choose to spill 
their guts on talk shows. 

WILLIS: People want to be famous. They 
want to get on TV any fucking мау. “I'll 
tell you how I fucked my little doggy if 
you put me on TV.” They will talk 
about the shittiest things. It's not their 
fault, because they don't know that you 
should just keep your mouth shut and 
not embarrass yourself. The ones to 
blame are the ones cashing in. It’s not 
just Maury Povich and his ilk. It's also 
the people behind the scenes who say, 
“Yeah, run that story, go with the 911 
tape. Beautiful, Maury. Gorgeous. 
Think of the ratings!” They are all 
making money off someone else's mis- 
fortune. The fucking whores. Imagine 
where it's going: televised executions, 
the 24-hour Violence Channel, on 
which you can see somebody get 
whacked over the fucking head with a 
shovel or something. 

PLAYBOY: Many of these tabloid shows 
have another favorite topic—you and 
your marriage. How much of a burden 
is this treatment? 

WILLIS: It's irrelevant. We laugh it off. I 
always know when there’s a lull in the 
tabloid market—when nobody's fuck- 
ing up—because they always come up 
with the BRUCE WILLIS AND DEMI MOORE 
ARE BREAKING Ur! story. It has happened 
once or twice a year since we got mar- 
ried. It's just gotten to be funny. Those 
shows and magazines are outside the 
realm. I don't need to hear that 1 was 
on a horse and saved a little girl from 


drowning in a fucking stream or some 
cockamamie thing. People think the 
National Enquirer is a newspaper. 
PLAYBOY: How did you and Demi meet? 
WILLIS: We were both at a screening of 
an Emilio Estevez-Richard Dreyfuss 
movie called Stakeout. 
PLAYBOY: Though she was going out 
with Estevez at the time, was it an in- 
stant attraction? 
WiLLIS: We got married four months 
later, so 1 guess 1 wouldn't call it in- 
stant. But it was rapid. I was enamored 
pretty quickly. 
PLAYBOY: We heard that Little Richard 
presided at your wedding. 
WILLIS: That was later. First we married 
in Las Vegas and then a friend was 
kind enough to throw us a huge wed- 
ding party on a soundstage in Holly- 
wood. We invited all our friends. When 
we were married the first time it was 
me, Demi, the reverend, a friend of 
mine and a friend of hers in a hotel 
room at the Golden Nugget 
PLAYBOY: Was the wedding in Vegas 
spontaneous? 
WILLIS: We had been talking about it for 
a while, then happened to go there to 
see a fight. I said, “You know, we could 
walk down to the little wedding chapel 
and get married,” and she laughed. We 
joked about it, and later that night she 
said, “Let's go.” I said, “Well, let me 
finish this one hand " [Laughs] V 
called these guys | knew and they 
pushed some buttons and—boom—it'll 
be nine years. 
PLAYBOY: That’s a reasonable accom- 
plishment in Hollywood. You've sur- 
vived the seven-year itch. 
WILLIS: We both get asked, "How do 
you do it? How do you work this magi- 
cal fairy tale of a life? How do you jug- 
gle it all?" The answer is: I don't know. 
The fact is, this is the longest either of 
us has stayed with anybody, so we're in 
uncharted waters. We deal with it one 
day at a time. 
PLAYBOY: What was it like working to- 
gether in Mortal Thoughts? 
WILLIS: I worked only about ten days on 
that film, but it was great. There was no 
husband-wife "I'm the boss, you're not 
the boss" thing. That was my favorite 
movie until Pulp Fiction. 
PLAYBOY: Would you say that you are 
both fairly headstrong? 
WiLLIS: Yeah. But we're both smart 
enough to know the truth when we 
hear it. 1 don't really give a shit about 
being in charge. 1 don't give a shit 
about being the boss. I just want to 
make it a good story, so we work out 
whatever comes up. 
PLAYBOY: How about at home? 
WILLIS: We've gotten pretty good at it. 
We each have things that we acquiesce 
about. There are certain areas she 
(continued on page 125) 


PLAYBOY GALLERY 


In 1994 Cameron Diaz told pLavñov that despite her break- ers McMullen director Ed Burns. Not bad for a girl who was 
out stardom as Jim Carrey's leading lady in The Mask, fame modeling at 16 and a star at 22—and who still dreams of 
can be fleeting. Wrong. The Long Beach, California native becoming a zoologist. Perhaps that's the explanation for 
has three new movies, among them She's the One from Broth- the birdcage. Or maybe it's just because she's so captivating. 77 


black water, deep canyon 


MIKE AND 1 escape over the mountains at midnight. In a blizzard, fitting- 
ly. Flakes as fat as miniature parachutes swoop into the windshield, tires 
hiss. Headlights scout through the trees as a radio preacher tongue- 
^ s lashes us. 

> Anyone else would have called it off. Not us. When it looks bad, when 
a storm is blowing in and everyone is advised to stay home, watch TV, 
” > аб ar Š look at the world through their living room window, that’s when we toss 

E Pr - the climbing gear into the truck and head out into the bellowing. 
= Usually we strike out for the mountains. Mountaineering is what we 
know. The Rockies, the Andes, the Himalayas, Tanzania to Tibet. We 
= know how to climb. That's why we're not doing it this time. There's no 
- Е: adventure in doing what you know. Ме figured that it was time we went 

РА canyoneering. 
7 E . You've never heard of it? No surprise. Canyoneering is a strange, lit- 
2 E | tle-known sport practiced by a handful of spartan disciples living near 
er the deserts of the Southwest. That's where the canyons are, from the 
5 > middle of Utah south to the middle of Arizona: Grand Canyon, Glen 
mo aw Canyon, Grand Gulch; and thousands more that are less known: Black 
Dragon Wash, Old Woman Wash, Dirty Devil, Escalante. This is the Col- 
Ё р a- бр E orado Plateau, the most paradoxical geography in the U.S.—bone-dry 
e PR desert designed by water. Earth cut to the bone. 

E y. e^ Generally, all the canyons were formed the same way: Crooked knives 
of water slowly sliced down through a layer cake of sedimentary rock. 
2: Took millions of years. There are three types of canyons: V-shaped, 
ч s^ se which form in uniformly soft rock; stair-stepped, which form in 


жу à am 


when it's dark 
and raining 
and the river 
is rising; 
canyoneering 
is the most 
dangerous sport 

in the world 


article By Mark Jenkins » 


ILLUSTRATION BY GUY BILLOUT 


eave IO 


alternating layers of hard and soft rock 
(the Grand Canyon is a fine example); 
and slot canyons, which cut straight 
down through uniformly hard rock. 
Slot canyons are the favorite of 
canyoneers. 

Slots are fissures sometimes 300 feet 
deep but no wider than a man's shoul- 
ders; curving, smooth-walled incisions 
so unfathomable the sun never touches 
the stygian streams at their bottoms. 
Inside a slot, stone walls connect hid- 
den chambers, deep vaults and subte 
ranean passageways. 

To canyoneer is to explore one of 
these incisions. To slip, drop, wriggle, 
crawl, scrape, climb, float and choke 
through a crack in the lithosphere. To 
fight up through the waterfalls. To 
swim through dungeons. In a way, 
canyoneering is the inverse of moun- 
taineering—instead of going up, you 
go down. But whenever you go down 
you have to come back up, and vice 
versa, so they're closer than you would 
think. And the skills required are simi- 
lar: technical rock climbing, rappel- 
ling, route finding. 

“To be a good canyoneer," one veter- 
an curmudgeon told us, "you have to 
be able to climb sheer walls like a 
lizard, squeeze through holes like a rat 
and swim in freezing-cold water as natur- 
al as а trout. Can't be afraid of heights 
or afraid of the dark or afraid of tight 
spots. Big balls come in handy. long as 
they don't get you stuck somewhere.” 

He thought he was scaring us away. 
Instead, we thought we'd better try it 
before MTV put it on the tube for all 
those people who hide inside during 
a storm. 


We follow the path of the water. Out 
of Wyoming into Colorado, slanting to- 
ward Utah, wipers shoveling sleet. The 
mountain snow melts and flows into 
rivers that crash down green moun- 
tains. Eventually it will cut across the 
desert, where it continues to carve the 
canyons we'll soon explore 

We get gas and candy in Glenwood 
Springs, Colorado. Switch drivers. 1-70 
West. Mike shoves his red head out the 
window and howls. 

Green River, Utah. Gliding down 
Main Street at four a.m. Neon lights 
dripping and buzzing. Preacher has 
given up and gone to bed. Gas for the 
truck, candy bars for us, switching 
drivers again. West 14 miles then 
south, straight into the desert. The 
stars begin to shut down. Black sand- 
stone turns to indigo. Clumps of sage- 
brush become turtles or panthers or 
trolls, anything you want. 

Before us, below wet silver clouds, 
lies a ribbon of asphalt perfectly level, 
perfectly straight, perfectly empty. I 


flatten the pedal. We float over Glen 
Canyon, magically suspended above 
the deep drop. The bridge is a tight- 
rope hung in the sky like a Magritte 


Just as the sun ruptures the horizon, 
we pull off the asphalt into wet red 
mud. Cut the engine, push open the 
doors. Not a sound. Then a bird. A 
meadowlark. 

You ever need to make it to another 
world, just drive all night. 

We step out, pop our necks, peer 
over the landscape. We know there's а 
gorge right in front of us, right off the 
bumper, but we can't see it. All we can 
see is a wet desert. Mesas the shape of 
crushed cowboy hats. Scrub junipers 
with snow in their hair. Clouds press- 
ing down like metal clamps. It all looks 
level and calm and safe. But it's a fabu- 
lous lie. 

1 move forward and the chasm opens 
below my feet. It's like being on the roof 
ofa building and walking to the edge. 

Everything is perspective. On the 
ground the Colorado Plateau appears 
benign. One continuous piece. Just 
pick a point and walk to it. Fact is, the 
whole place is so deeply dissected it’s 
untraversable. You can see it from a 
plane or a topo map. Canyons of all 
sizes, like serpents, have eaten out the 
land. Some are half a mile wide and 50 
miles long with a vast oxbow that could 
circle an entire city. Others are deep. 
short troughs with sudden, inexplica- 
ble doglegs. Still others are loopy rents 
as thin as string. 

We sit on a stained rock and change 
from jeans and T-shirts into plastic: 
polypropylene long underwear, poly- 
ester shirts and pants, fleece jackets 
and caps. Canyoneering can be a cold, 
wet business, so cotton can kill you. 
Cotton keeps water against your skin, 
sucking away heat. 

Off with the sandals, on with the 
boots. You would think sport sandals 
would be ideal for walki astream, 
but you're wrong. Boots, solid leather 
hikers, are the answer. Canyoneering is 
not simply walking a streambed; it's 
scrambling and clambering between 
walls of stone. Even tough toes would 
be shredded in sandals. 

We spread out our map on the tail- 
gate. White Canyon is the invisible 
gorge before us. We want to explore 
опе of its remote side canyons. We also 
want to travel upstream rather than 
down; climbing is always more interest- 
ing than rappelling. We choose a nar- 
row slot perhaps 12 miles long that on 
the topo looks like a lightning bolt. It 
enters White Canyon from the oppo- 
site side of the rim we're standing on. 
We have an obscure guidebook called 
Canyoneering 2: Technical Loop Hikes in 
Southern Utah. It was written by a guy 


named Steve Allen, an intrepid, articu- 
late fellow with no address and no 
phone number. 

"Man's unreachable,” said his pub- 
lisher. "He's a genuine desert rat. Dis- 
appears into those canyons and doesn't 
come out for months.” 

Our canyon is the most difficult, thus 
the most dangerous, in his book. We 
sort gear as I read out loud. 

“This is a technical route that should be 
attempted only by experienced canyoneers.” 

Mike grins. We've done a lot of stuff 
together, but the only canyons we've 
done have been by accident. 

Besides, guidebook writers have to 
write like that. They don't and they get 
their asses in a sling when some ten- 
derfoot gets bumped. Case in point: In 
1993, five teenagers and three adults 
try canyoneering in Zion National 
Park. Hard rain, strong water, two 
adults drown immediately. Swept over 
falls. The six left alive spend five days 
on a ledge before being rescued. They 
file a $24.5 million lawsuit against Zion 
National Park and the Washington 
County Water Conservation District. 

"The leader must be familiar with belay 
techniques and capable of leading the climb- 
ing sections without protection. There are 
several places with lots of exposure.” 

“Yes!” Mike snaps his fingers like a 
belly dancer. We divvy up gear. Tent 
and hags, stove and fuel, food for days, 
dry suits and the climbing eq 
two #165 climbing ropes, h: 
slings, hardware we can insert into the 
rock to anchor the ropes to get our- 
selves out of whatever we manage to 
get into. We cram it all into airtight, 
waterproof dry bags, then pound the 
bags into our packs. Our packs will 
float, even if we don't. 

“There is a lot of wading and swimming 
on this trip, so air temperatures should be 
reasonably warm. There is the potential for 
flash floods.” 

“Huh,” Mike says. “Don't go when 
it’s cold and don't go when it's raining. 
Now how you gonna have any fun?" 

. 


A hidden cleft in the canyon wall. 
Red water, blood of the earth, pours 
from the portal. This is the mouth of 
our canyon. 

We found a way down into White 
Canyon without rappelling. Then we 
hiked the streambed until this opening 
in the right-hand wall appeared. 

We splash into the water and imme- 
diately pass through the ancient hatch- 
way into a tunnel of stone. The cold 
cuts through our boots and burns our 
tocs. 

“This is a secret passage,” Mike 
whispers. 

We are drawn inside. Swallowed. We 

(continued on page 136) 


"It's room service. They're looking for you.” 


81 


82 


[Л 


do 


ALOHA 


ERE IN downtown Chicago, 

making our way to Nick's Fish- 
market, and Kona Carmack is living up 
to her name. It's short for Konaluhiole, 
which in Hawaiian means "never 
weary.” She has just finished a ten-hour 
photo shoot, and she's famished. 

We visit Nick's because he serves 
great fish. Kona orders abalone, then 
ahi for both of us. Beautiful and 
poised, she is confident beyond her 19 
years. Her smile is a tonic. Our waiter 
seems distracted. 

Kona was born and raised in Hono- 
lulu but has been living in North Car- 
olina for the past year while she attends 
college. Regardless of the subject, Ko- 
na sits in the front row so she doesn't 


miss anything. “It's kind of nerdy, but 


[ОЖАЙ < latest 
natural wonder, 
hans cama, 
is no stranger 


to paradise 


‚ KONA 


it works,” says Miss February, a market- 
ing major with a 3.4 GPA. “1 also raise 
my hand a lot. If I don't understand 
something, I'm not going to just sit 
there.” 

One of the most liberating moments 
of her first year came during English 
101, when she wrote a term paper 
blasting antiporn crusader Catharine 
MacKinnon. "She argues that PLAYBOY 
is pornography," says Kona. ^I don't 
happen to agree." She got an A. 

Kona excels in the classroom, but 
she's no egghead. She enjoys the clubs 
too much, where on any given night 
you'll find her dancing into the wee 
hours. She wasn't always light on her 
feet, though. “1 remember getting off 
the school bus when 1 was 12 and 


Kono, who was brought up in Honolulu, 
hos clwoys been o big-city gol. “In smoller 
towns, everybody knows your business. 
“See what she's weoring? Look ot her hoir." 
In the city, of least people gossip obout 
your career.” They're certainly talking now. 


PHOTOGRAPHY BY RICHARD FEGLEY 


Kono is proud of her Hawoiion heritage. “The cul- 
ture is so interesting,” she says. “1 olso love lucus. 
Any excuse and we have a porty. That’s the Howoi- 
ian philosophy." How else does she relax? Moybe 
you'll catch her cruising Oohu on the fomily Harley. 


Kono's favarite surf spot is Canoe's, near 
Waikiki. "It's a rush when you go down the 
foce of a wave,” she says. "But I'm always 
running over taurists." If a glimpse of Kona 
doesn't make you want to visit the beaches 
of Hawaii, there probably isn't much that 
will. She readily took up her board (and took 
off her top) for Contributing Photogropher 
Richord Fegley ct Portlock, neor Hawaii Kai. 


aving goodbye to my friends as I walked away. Then—wham!—I 
ran right into a stop sign. It even vibrated. I heard about that one for 
the rest of the year: 
By thetime she turned 16, they were talking about Kona again. She 
had followed her younger brother, La'au, into the surf and soon was 
challenging ten-foot waves (well, one anyway—and that was enough). 
“1 was always the only girl out there surfing, besides my friend Kili,” 
she says. "I hated it when the guys would try to cut me off." Maybe 


& 
* 
i 
А 
A 


they too were just distracted, I think to myself as the waiter 
dears our plates. Now Kona has one thing on her mind: 
mangoes. She orders a plateful, sweet and delicious, then 
surprises me by pining for a cigar. "I got hooked on them on 
vacation in Martinique,” she says. "After dinner, they're the 
biggest turn-on.” 

We consider finding a cigar shop, but by now it's past mid- 


night and Kona shows signs of being, if not weary, at least 
sleepy. She has another shoot in the morning, and as we 
leave Nick’s, 1 ask what she'll do with her Playmate model- 
ing fee. “Tuition,” she says, "and ГІ pay for my new car. I 
named it Basia. My boyfriend always asks, ‘How's Basia? 
Let's take Basia for a ride.’ He knows how to score points 
—CHIP ROWE 


with me.” Gentlemen, name your engines. 


PLAYMATE DATA SHEET 


we. Kma Cormack __ 

pust: 34 (D wars: eld mrs: ЭЧ _ 
3 

негснт: 2'4" werc: 107 

BIRTH DATE: 107) /Tlo - BIRTHPLACE: 


AMBITIONS: lO 


and nahal T 

FAVORITE SUBJECTS: Tim 
h Tm 

Wuth, a T +o 

FAVORITE BOY NAMES: E Icher | 


I FALL ASLEEP ТО: en = 
He ocan, boring leurs: 


WHY I LOVE HAWAII: à 
LAY 


PLAYBOY’S PARTY JOKES 


Three women were dressing after an aerobics 
workout and talking about their spouses. “My 
husband," said the first, “is a marriage coun- 
selor. He always buys me candy or flowers be- 
fore we make love.” 

“Mine is a jeweler,” the second said. “He al- 
ways brings me a pearl or two before we make 
love.” 

The third woman paused. “Well,” she finally 
said, “my husband works for Microsoft. He just 
sits on the edge of the bed and tells me how 
great it's going to be when 1 get it.” 


Р\лувоу ciassic: Midway through the film, 
indy turned to her friend and whispered, 
"The guy sitting next to me is masturbating." 
“Well, tell him to stop.” 
"I can't,” Cindy replied. “He's using my 
hand.” 


How do you know when a blonde has sent you 
a fax? There's a stamp on it. 


A scruffy guy came into а bar and ordered a 
scotch. He downed it quickly and ordered an- 
other. The bartender, eyeing his unkempt ap- 
pearance suspiciously, demanded money first. 
ook,” the fellow pleaded, "I'll show you a 
trick you'll never forget in exchange for anoth- 
er drink." 

The bartender reluctantly set another scotch 
on the bar and watched as the fellow took a rat 
out of his pocket. The animal scurried toward 
the piano, jumped on the keys and began play- 
ing a Gershwin song. A moment later, the guy 
took a frog out of his other pocket, set it on the 
bar and smiled triumphantly as it began to belt 
out a tune from Porgy and Bess. 

A well-dressed man at the end of the bar 
walked over and offered the man $100 on the 
spot for the frog. The customer quickly accept- 
ed. As its new owner walked out with the frog, 
the bartender said, “How could you be so 
dumb? You just gave away a fortune.” 

“Don't be so sure,” the guy replied. "The 
rat’s a ventriloquist. 


A man phoned his doctor saying his wife ap- 
peared to have appendicitis. 

; [hats impossible; the physician replied. 
“She had an appendectomy last year. Have you 
ever seen anybody with a second appendix?” 

"No, asshole," the husband replied. "Have 
you ever seen anybody with a second wife?" 


The six-year-old came into the bedroom and 
shook her mother awake. "Mom," the little girl 
said, "would you tell me a story?" 

“Honey,” the groggy woman replied, glane- 
ing at the bedside clock, "it's four o'clock in the 
morning." 

“I know, but I want you to tell me a story." 

"OK, climb in, sweetheart," she said, pulling 
back the covers. "Well wait for Daddy to come 
home and he'll tell us both a story.” 


THIS MONTH'S MOST FREQUENTSUBMISSION: What 
do politicians and porn stars have in common? 
They're both experts at changing positions in 
front ofa camera. 


A socially conscious suburban couple decided 
to take in a homeless girl. In exchange for per- 
forming cooking and housekeeping chores, 
the girl would receive food, shelter and a nice 
salary. Although the girl was not very compe- 
tent or enthusiastic, the couple put up with her 
and continued to pay her wages. 

After two years, the girl confessed that she 
was pregnant. The couple discussed the situa- 
tion and decided not only to retain her but to 
adopt the baby as well 

A year later the girl was pregnant again. 
Once more the couple adopted her child. 
Within six months the girl announced that she 
gain expecting a baby. "We're disappoint- 
ed,” the wife said, “but, of course, we will 
adopt this child too.” 

“I'm also going to quit,” the girl said 

“How сап you even think of quitting?” the 
shocked husband stammered. 

“Well,” the girl said,“L never agreed to cock 
and clean for a family with three kids.” 


deputies came to the house. They dug 
inch of the backyard.” 

Hurley picked up his pen. “Dear Helen,” he 
wrote, “now is the Lime to plant the potatoes.” 


Heard a funny one lately? Send it on а post- 
card, please, to Party Jokes Editor, PLAYBOY, 
680 North Lake Shore Drive, Chicago, Illinois 
60611. $100 will be paid to the contributor 
whose card is selected. Jokes cannot be returned. 


“I just had a vasectomy. Would you like to 


help me celebrate?” 


95 


96 


RESCUE 
IMPOSSIBLE 


a team of ex-delta commandos 
travels the globe to right wrongs. 
dont tell the government 


ARTICLE BY PAT JORDAN 


band. Foued. and their daughter. Leila. in 

Foued's parents’ home near the Mediterranean 
in Tunisia in 1987. Sometimes, Foued went out and 
would come home with lipstick on his shirts. And he was 
beating Laurie. Finally, Foued told Laurie he was going 
to send Leila to Libya for a clitorectomy and see that she 
was raised as a Muslim. Laurie was so distraught over this 
she sought out a Tunisian lawyer for a divorce. But in 
Tunisia, non-Islamic mothers with Tunisian husbands 
have no rights over their children. 

In 1980, when Cathy Mahone divorced her Jordanian 
husband, Ali Bayan, she was awarded sole custody of 
their infant daughter, Lauren, by a Dallas court. For the 
next seven years, Ali was a dutiful divorced father. He 
would take his daughter for weckend visits and return 
her promptly. One day in October 1987, he took his 
daughter for a weekend visit and fled with her to his 
home country of Jordan. 

Kim Hefner knew that her husband Charlie, an Army 
demolitions expert, had a volatile temper. But she 
thought it was just part of her husband's dangerous, 
stressful job. When his behavior began to affect their 
family life, however, Kim filed for divorce. They were 
separated in 1990, but before their divorce went through 
Charlie fled with their daughter, Amy, and son, Jeremy, 
to Ecuador. 

The children of all three women were living in Third 
World countries with their fathers. The mothers were 
U.S. citizens, but their own State Department could do 
nothing to help. 

All three women took steps to get their children back 
to the U.S. Because the government couldn't help, each 
hired a team of ex-Delta Force (continued on page 120) 


| aurie Swint Ghidaoui was living with her hus- 


PAINTING BY KENT WILLIAMS, 


“rá 


playboy 's stable 

of aftermarket 
supercars can do 
anything but ease on 
down the road 


article By KEN GROSS 


RAPID TRANSIT 


Fast cars don't cost a fortune. A new Camaro or a Mustang Cobra, for exam- 
ple, will hit 60 miles per hour in less than six seconds. You can buy either 
one, loaded, for about $25,000. For $10,000 to $15,000 more, you can get the 
superb handling of a twin-turbocharged Mazda RX-7 or the muscle of a 330- 
horsepower Corvette Grand Sport. And if you can afford great luxury, there's 
the six-figure Mercedes-Benz SL500 or the BMW 850Csi coupe. Why would 
anyone want more? Two reasons: speed and status. Open up a Saleen Mus- 
tang on a Nevada highway and you'll experience a rush that's equaled only 
by the covetous looks the Saleen draws when you rumble back through town. 
A handful of aftermarket wizards are ready to take a stock performance 
car and make it quicker, slicker and exclusive. They know their customers 
will be willing to accept a firmer ride, more — (text continued on page 145) 


CALLAWAY CAMARO C8: Motor magician Reeves Callaway has conjured up 
performance touches for Chevy's hottest models for ten years. His latest won- 
der, the Callaway Super Natural Camaro СВ, is a top-of-the-line 228 trans- 
formed to near-race-car status. When Callaway is through with a Camaro, the 
car's output leaps from 275 hp to 404 hp and its zero-to-60 time drops from 
5.5 seconds to 4.6 seconds. Braking und suspension are enhanced, too. 
There's a new interior topped with Ferrari-like body panels and a freshly 
painted exterior. The work takes about five weeks and, depending on how 
many improvements you can't resist, you can double a Z28's $25,000 sticker. 


PHOTOGRAPHY BY MARIO CASILLI 


DINAN BMW B50i: Steve Dinan, 
America's expert BMW-tuner, knows 
the big Bavarian caupe's real poten- 
tiol. The 850i's already-potent V-12 
gets o displacement boost to 5.6 liters 
опа lots of internal madificatians be- 
fare being tapped with twin turbos. 
The result is the Dinan B, copoble of 
on incredible 607 hp (o stack B50i is 
296 hp), with suspension, brake and 
wheel upgrades to match. Of caurse, 
you'll have to part with some very se- 
riaus cash—$60,000 on top of the 
stack B50i's substantial $85,000 stick- 
er price. Coming next year, we've 
been told, is a trimmed-dawn version 
af the B50i—the Dinon Supercoupe- 

which is about 400 pourds lighter. 


GULDSTRAND CORVETTE GS90: One 
of Dick Guldstrond's speciolties is the 
now-out-of-production Corvette ZR-1 
with o four-com LT-5 engine. Leove 
your precious Vette in this tolented ex- 
racer's honds for two to three months, 
ond you won't recognize the vehicle 
you get back. Guldstrond dumps most 
of the stock ZR-1's suspension compo- 
nents ond body panels, then substi- 
tutes lightweight parts ony rocer 
would envy. The engine's output is 
souped to 475 hp. The suspension 
components ore greotly improved 
You can spend olmost $50,000 for 
this impressive mokeover. Or, for on 
even more exhilarating 550-hp storm- 
er, you can turn over onother $19,000. 


PETER FARRELL SUPERCARS MAZDA RX-7: Peter Farrell transforms Mazda's 
RX-7 into a tiny terror that will give bigger cars fits on winding roads. Farrell 
works wonders with the power train, upgrading the rotary engine's computer. 
and raising the stock 255-hp rating to 360 horses. Three settings let you dial 
up as much oomph as you can handle. A custom nose and tail spoiler mean 
there's no mistaking a Farrell hot rod. And suspension tweaks help this coupe 
post impressive skid-pad figures. Price: about $15,000 more than a new RX-7. 


SALEEN S351 SPEEDSTER: Steve Saleen is a 
California specialty-vehicle manufacturer 
who has a hankering for really fast Mus- 
tangs. An agreement with Ford makes it 
le to order a Saleen-built cor from 
ide (you also 
get a full factory warranty). Selcen's 5351 
packs а 400-hp V-8 engine on a reworked 
chassis, with oversize brakes, slick new 
wheels and high-performance tires. Cus- 
tom bodywork and paint job complete the 
conversion, which starts at a cool $43,000. 


WHERE & HOW TO BUY ON PAGE 151. 


STYLING BY ADRIENNE CRAGNOTTI 


are u= 
NEL 


BOY PROFILE 


LOVE HURTS 


COURTNEY WANTS TO GO MASS MARKET, BUT CAN POP’S PUNK 
PRINCESS SHELVE HER ANGER AND RAUNCH? 


104 


SUMMER 1995: Backstage at Lollapa- 
looza's Los Angeles stop, Courtney 
Love looks almost as shell-shocked 
stepping out of her stretch limousine as 
Jackie Kennedy did leaving the hearse 
at Dallas’ Love Field in 1963. Gone is 
the salacious slut look, replaced by a 
surprising, tattered Hollywood glam- 
our. Lollapalooza, it turns out, is the 
last time we see Courtney in all her 
coiled, punk rock authenticity. Her 
carefully staged show—complete with 
Foghat-era smoke machines and blind- 
ing lights—is a hyperbolic send-off to 
the grunge guttersnipe she had played 
for years. By the end of the tour, she 
has morphed from a Punch and Judy 
sideshow attraction to a full-blown star. 

It is an unlikely scenario by anyone's 
standards. "I might be blighted be- 
cause of my marriage," she once admit- 
ted. "But I'm fucking talented." She 
was right on both counts. Then, when 
her husband, Kurt Cobain, killed him- 
self, she was knocked even more for 
surviving him. Just a year before, she 
had been booed off the main stage 
when she tried to say hello. Now the 
fans were screaming with anticipation. 

As 1 stood on a hill in the wings 
watching her ascend to the stage, I was 
amazed at how much she had changed. 
During the past few years, I, like other 
reporters, had fielded her sporadic 
phone calls and sat for hours at her 
house discussing her derisive brand of 
punk. Now she seemed to have gone 


BY NEAL KARLEN 


Hollywood. She had handlers, and 
representatives from Ceffen Records 
and the PMK publicity agency, and 
lawyers, and confidentiality agree- 
ments for her employees and friends. 
While members of Sonic Youth and 
Pavement hung outside their trailers at 
times, Courtney was nowhere to be 
seen. Backstage VIPs, wearing lami- 
nated passes around their necks, cast 
sidelong glances at her closed door. In- 
visible, she was the undisputed trailer- 
park queen—no matter how good 
Drew Barrymore looked. When her set 
was called, she tentatively stepped out, 
like a little girl, onto the platform lead- 
ing to the curtain. But all her wide- 
eyed hesitancy disappeared once Hole 
(Eric Erlandson on guitar, Melissa Auf 
der Maur on bass and Patty Schemel 
on drums) started playing. She stuck 
her left foot on the monitor and began 
to belt out her incendiary tales. The 
crowd leaped to its feet with a rabid 
roar more suited to a World Wrestling 
Federation bout. Fans in the mosh pit 
shook their fists and screamed her 
lyrics in unison. Her hair blown back 
by a wind machine, Courtney looked as 
if she were in an old Stevie Nicks video. 
As usual, the moshers begged her to 
stage-dive into their arms. That move, 
too, seemed a thing of the past. There 
would be no chance to grope her body 
or rip her clothes. She neared the lip of 
the stage, glowered, then retreated. 
"Live through this with me," she 


ILLUSTRATION EY DAVID LEVINE 


wailed, "and I swear that I will die for 
you." Then, from up front, somebody 
doused her with a Supersoaker. Court- 
ney stepped forward, teeth bared in a 
deceptive grin. "Are you trying to elec- 
trocute me?" she asked. 

“Hey guys," she said to the security 
team, "could you kick the shit out of 
the guy with the squirt gun?" She 
looked to the pit, her voice rising to a 
scream. "If you don't 1 will, because 
when I die it's not going to be in front 
of you. When 1 die, it's going to be in a 
nice quiet bed with a tube down my 
throat." 

For the rest of the set, she was 
satisfied with stage-directing a hair-rip- 
ping bacchanal. "I told you from the 
start just how this would end," she sang 
on Violet. “When I get what I want, I 
never want it again." 

Courtney clearly wants “to be the 
girl with the most cake," as she sings 
in Doll Parts—to make movies, have 
fame, ink, international recognition. 
The question is whether her overt 
weirdness can translate into the 
crossover stardom she craves. She 
has the requisite cunning, smarts, 
drive, cunning, talent—did we men- 
tion cunning?—to go the distance. Un- 
less she makes a fatal mistake, she 
may well make it across the great di- 
vide to mass acceptance, sctting hersclf 
up for a second act of public life that 
seems certain to be as hideously watch- 
able as the first. (continued on page 110) 


in scotland, 
the playwright 
found, even wisdom 
is distilled ARTICLE BY DAVIO MAMET 


looking for help. 1 called a fellow 

I knew and asked if I could come 
by. He said yes, and we talked all night, 
and drank two-and-a-half fifths of 
Bell's scotch while doing 

The sun rose and 1 felt comforted 
and wise for about a block of the walk 
home, and then I didn't taste scotch for 
20 years. 

Fade out, fade in. 

Again, it occurs to me, 1 was being 
comforted for some enormity my en- 
docrine system had involved me in, s 
ting in a bar in Cambridge, Massachu- 
setts. My friend said to the bartender, 
"Give me a shot of your best whisky." 

The bartender reached down a bot 


[| D HAD my heart broken and was 


tle from the top shelf. 
“That's the ticket," my friend said. 
"What is it?" 
The bartender said some foreign 


Fine," my friend said, "how much 
Sixty-four dollars, he was told. 
pensive bottle," he said. 
he was corrected, "by the 


"Put it back," my friend said. "He's 
not that unhappy. Give him something 
in the ten-buck range." The bartender 
poured me a shot of an ambrosia that I 
only afterward discovered to be scotch. 

I dranl = 

“Well, hell,” I said, “this puts any Em 
cognac in the shade." The bartender 
nodded. 

I remember riding in the car with E 
my dad in the Fifties, him driving a! 
smoking a Lucky. On the pack it sai 
IT'S TOASTED! And that's how they 
smelled to me. 

The cigarettes smelled like the toast- 
ed almonds on the toasted almond 
Good Humor bar, which is to say, per- 
fect. My years of smoking were an ad- 
diction both to the nicotine and to the 
notion that the next one might taste 
like they smelled when my dad was 
driving the car. 

Similarly with alcohol, much of my— 
and, perhaps your—drinking was a 
search for that (continued on page 147) 


PAINTING BY DAVID HODGES 


7. ON THIS 


NEN! 


м 
TURN 


The Writer’s Chair is big 
enough to hold Eberi—and 
Siskel. And you have to be as 
rich as Ralph Lauren (it’s 
from his Furniture Collection) 
to afford it. To create a vin- 
toge look, ronge leather is 
stained and distressed, then 
glazed. From Marshall 

—— Field's, Chicogo ($3245 for 
the chair; $1249 for a match- 

_ ing tufted ottoman). 


two wallet-busting 
chairs in which 

to park your 
pampered sell 


Got $15,000 burning a/hole 
in the pocket of your st 
jacket? That's what it 


Cigars are stashed in the La il 
armrest. A brandy snifferand | 
ап ashtray fit nicely in the — 
right. By Michel Perrenoud (a 
matching mahogany-and- —  — 
leather Smoking Barthat — 
holds more smokes and bot- 


PLAYBOY 


110 


COURTNEY LOVE (continued fron page 104) 


Some say her antics are an act, that she is never as 
whacked cut or drugged up as she sometimes appears. 


Call it a blessing or a curse: Courtney 
Love is the living link to Nirvana's 
Cobain—the most lauded spokesman 
of his generation. It's a heavy cross to 
bear for such a volatile creature, partic- 
ularly when her band's most recent al- 
bum, Live Through This (released the 
week after Cobain died), wowed critics 
who had previously branded her the 
most nettlesome, meddlesome, least 
talented rock wife since Yoko Ono. 
Rolling Stone, Spin and The Village Voice 
named Hole's record best of the year. 
While Hootie 8: the Blowfish may have 
sold ten times more records than her 
1 million, it's Courtney the world wants 
to emulate, dissect, elevate and crush. 

It is a remarkable metamorphosis for 
a woman who seemed destined to be 
found dead in a gutter, or, if she got 
lucky, in a hotel suite. Particularly for 
someone with a personality that Vanity 
Fair reporter Lynn Hirschberg once 
described as a "train wreck." 

“Back when we met in 1983 the big 
joke was how Courtney Love was say- 
ing she was going to be a rock star and 
sex symbol,” says Melissa Rossi, an ob- 
server of the Seattle music scene who is 
writing a biography on Love. Some of 
Courtney's success as a crossover act 
comes from forces beyond her control. 
Our ideas of what's desirable, or even 
acceptable, in the mainstream have 
changed since the days of Nancy Rea- 
gan. But give Courtney credit for antic- 
ipating these changes. 

In the nihilistic Hollywood of the 
Nineties, where the Viper Room is still 
hot and heroin ever more chic, Court- 
ney's crash-and-burn shtick may help 
make her the biggest star of her gener- 
ation. All she has to do is stay clean 
enough to shoot videos or cut her next 
record. Ат 30, she has done little to 
blunt her image as a woman оп the 
slipperiest slope. 

Sometimes, as On Lollapalooza '95, 
her pose has backfired. At the tour's 
first stop, in George, Washington, 
Courtney punched Kathleen Hanna of 
Bikini Kill in the face. At the Kansas 
show, she began by shrieking, "I'm go- 
ing to abuse you, because you fucking 
deserve it, you shits!” Earlier in the 
year at a pre-Lollapalooza gig in Madi- 
son Square Garden, she tried to get her 
fans to chant “nigger.” They reacted 
with stunned silence. 

Her demands for special treatment, 
which she later downplayed in Spin 
with a clever but self-serving diary of 


the tour, led Lollapalooza's organizers 
to allow her to pull up backstage in a 
limo, while other acts had to trudge 
long distances from their buses. It was 
an in-your-face move that further 
eroded her alternative credibility—but 
it also established her as a star who had 
left the punk galaxy. 

Some say her antics are an act, that 
she is never as whacked out or drugged 
up as she sometimes appears. Onstage 
at Detroit's St. Andrew's Hall in Octo- 
ber 1994, Love seemed too wasted to 
stand up. Backstage, after the show, 
she was as sober as Hillary Rodham 
Clinton. “She's very calculated,” says 
another business associate who spoke 
off the record. “She always knows what 
she’s doing. She knows that as long as 
you make a scene people will pay atten- 
tion. It's not so much an act, it's just 
that she understands what works. She 
will always survive—she won't die un- 
less she can go to her own funeral.” 

With the claims that she's merely 
putting on a Vegas gig come questions 
regarding her motivations for erratic 
behavior. There’s the putative over- 
dose of what were termed prescription 
drugs shortly before Lollapalooza be- 
gan. Were they prescribed, and was it 
an accident? Or did she plant the sto- 
ry? Then there are the plastic sur- 
geries: How far will she go to transform 
herself from the chunky Courtney who 
made the scene in Minneapolis? Most 
disturbing were the reports that the 
reason Live Through This was such a 
great album was because her late hus- 
band crafted the song bridges. 


Seattle, 1993: Eager for an interview 
with Courtney for my book Babes in 
Toyland, | arrived at the home she 
shared with Cobain and their daugh- 
ter, Frances Bean. Courtney wasn’t 
there; she had yet to return from her 
Narcotics Anonymous meeting. So 
Cobain, with his baby Frances snuggled 
next to him, and I watched Beavis and 
Butt-head. It happened to be the first 
time Cobain would see the cartoon 
losers bang their heads to Nirvana's 
video Smells Like Teen Spirit. "All right," 
he said, genuinely pleased, "they like 
us! I mean, I know Beavis and Butt- 
head. I grew up with people like that. 1 
recognize them." 

It was then that Courtney made her 
grand entrance. She did not share her 
husband's enthusiasm for MTV's hot- 


test music critics. "Usually, women sell 
less than half of what men sell," she 
told me a few months later. "Because 
obviously you're not going to sell to 
Beavis and Butt-head. Maybe one 
day—but Beavis and Butt-head are not 
my target audience. I can get the girl 
with the glasses but you don't want to 
scare her because she's too busy listen- 
ing to her fucking 10,000 Maniacs 
record.” 

Then, within moments of putting 
Frances to bed, Love began delivering 
her marathon monologs. Wearing one 
of her vintage kinderwhore dresses, 
she seemed as healthy and exuberant 
as a kid with a foolproof argument on 
the high school debate team. Chain- 
smoking, punctuating points with a 
wave Of her cigarette, she put on a 
bravura performance that was bewitch- 
ing and outrageous. 

“If you fuck me over," she said short- 
ly after 1 had met her in Minneapolis, 
“Til hunt you down and kill you. 
lieved her. But swamped as 1 was by 
her pseudointimacy, it was hard not to 
take her side. 

Her life story is a forever-changing 
fairy tale of trust funds, strip joints in 
Alaska and encounters with the rich 
and famous. She could say, “Then 1 ran 
away to Guam," without a trace of 
irony or acknowledgment of how ri- 
diculous it sounded. She used gossip to 
cement her babble, slagging ее! 
ly every person she'd ever met. She 
grilled them all, from her father to her 
onetime best friend, Kat Bjelland of 
Babes in Toyland. Then, when the vit- 
riol became too much, she dropped in 
a dose of sympathy and talked about 
her admiration of, say, Soul Asylum's 
Dave Pirner. She was determined to 
make the most of her connections and 
her familiarity with the music scene. In 
one sitting, she managed to name-drop 
all of the following: the Sea Hags, the 
Cocteau Twins, 69 Ways, "my own 
suck-ass sellout band," Debbie Harry, 
the Bastards, Pussy Galore, the Re- 
placements, Joe Strummer, Bob Dy- 
lan's son Jesse, the Butthole Surfers, 
Rifle Sport, producer Steve Albini (“He 
is one of the most sexist, misogynist 
fools that ever walked on earth—if you 
only knew what a human douche bag 
he was. Every woman is a whore except 
P] Harvey"), Eddie Vedder, Tony Vis- 
conti, White Zombie, Black Flag, 
Hüsker Dü, the Meat Puppets, the Pix- 
ies, Sonic Youth, Mudhoney, Julian 
Cope, Echo and the Bunnymen. To sit 
and to listen was a lesson in endurance. 

Her life is built around her obses- 
sions. For a full year, she was preoccu- 
pied with the Vanity Fair article by Lynn 
Hirschberg that charged she had in- 
jected heroin while pregnant with 

(continued on page 142) 


“Oh, she's one of the temps who helps us out during 
the busy season.” 


111 


eslie Nielsen has done 
OK for an actor whose 
sole professional ambi- 
tion is “to maintain 
whatever celebrity status 
I have so they'll continue to 
invite me to golf tourna- 
ments." Now a veteran of 
` more than 60 motion pic- 
tures, he started out in the 
Fifties playing manly men in 
sturdy adventure flicks such 
as Forbidden Planet (in which 
he got the girl and the robot) 
and The Sheepman (in which 
he didn't get the sheep). 
Then his career took a 180- 
degree turn when zany direc- 
tors Jim Abrahams, Jerry 
Zucker and David Zucker 
cast him as the loopy doctor 
in Airplane! "They recog- 
nized that I was a closet co- 
median," Nielsen says grate- 
fully. In 1988, he starred 
as the bumbling Lieutenant 
Frank Drebin in The Naked 
Gun, and the rest is . . - 
naked. Naked Gun 2% and 
Naked Gun 33% followed. 
This holiday season he ap- 
pears in the bloodsucking 
comedy Dracula: Dead and 
Loving It. Still, he remains 
true to Frank Drebin, envi- 
sioning a way to extend the 
Naked Gun series almost 
indefinitely—by remaking 
film classics with the able as- 
sistance of рглүвоү lovelies. 
So sit back, enjoy our Naked 
film festival and watch the 
Nielsen ratings soar. 


PHOTOGRAPHY BY MARIO CASILLI 


Naked Dracula: 


1n Dracula: Dead and Loving It, Nielsen shows the lighter side of the count. How does 
his Dracula differ from Bela Lugosi's? "Mine is slightly more bowlegged," he says. 


NAKED NIELSEN 


Our favorite guy, Leslie Nielsen, does film classics with your 


favorite naked women 


The Three Muskenakedteers: 


With three Frank Drebins on the case, Nielsen knows how these Muskenakedteers will fare: "They'll all end up in a Turkish 
prison.” Nielsen learned to fence for a fight scene in the 1956 epic The Vagabond King and recalls, “The hero whupped me.” 


As you con see, Nielsen digs this omnipotent-monarch stuff. Whot kind of ruler would Drebin make? “Oh, 
about c yard," Nielsen soys. And would he hove o harem? “No, maybe just a hotel room someplace.” 


Nielsen reveals how this Naked remake of Casablanca will end: Drebin gets on the plone with Ingrid Bergman, while “Paul 
Henreid gets the McDonold's franchise frequented by Conrod Veidt, who bellyoches about the lack of Wiener schnitzel.” 


Conducting an undercaver investigation, Drebin learns “a Despite his affinity for the omnipresent whoopee cushion, 
very important thing: It's not until you dress as a women Nielsen turns his thoughts here to natural matters. 


that you come to grips with the fact that you are truly ugly.” “You should always be naked with your wind,” he says. 


During his 42-year film career, Nielsen has been soaked—he went down with the ship in The Poseidon Adventure—but 
never naked on-screen. “Directors can't seem to get post my bowlegs,” he says. His advice for aspiring 
shower-scene actors: “Be coreful with the soop, or your leoding lody is likely to squirt right out of your hands.” 


Drebin—with his window full of rears—has it all over Jimmy Stewart. Nielsen termed 


the PLAYBOY shoot arduou: 


s. “It took three doys. | would have preferred a week.” 


PLAYBOY 


120 


RESCUE continued fom page 96) 


They marry hastily, have a child and then discover 
that their charming suitor has become a monster. 


commandos. Those commandos spirit- 
ed Laurie and Leila from a Tunisian 
beach to a speedboat that took them to 
Pantelleria, an island off Sicily. Cathy 
Mahone's daughter was kidnapped off 
a school bus in Jordan and spirited 
across the border to Israel. Kim Hef- 
ner’s children were kidnapped out of a 
car on the way to school in Ecuador 
and flown out of the county. 

“Tt was like movie stuff,” said Kim, 
months later. “I thought that stuff 
didn’t happen in real life.” 

. 


Don Feeney and his team are in the 
business of “snatching kids,” or as 
Feeney would rather put it, “recover- 
ing kidnapped children їп foreign 
countries.” Corporate Training Unlim- 
ited, Feeney's group, is the court of last 
resort for parents whose spouses have 
taken their children to foreign coun- 
tries, usually after acrimonious separa- 
tions or divorces. Most of the kidnap- 
pers are the children’s fathers, usually 
foreign nationals married to American 
women, though this is not always the 
case. The stories are essentially the 
same. Invariably the men are charm- 
ing, aggressive and often from Third 
World countries, where more than half 
of the 806 children kidnapped in the 
U.S. in 1993 were taken. Their attitude 
toward women, especially wives, can 
be less than enlightened. Women are 
like camels, only of less value. The men 
are often in the U.S. on temporary 
visas that become permanent if they 
marry American citizens. The women 
are mostly from small towns and have 
experienced unhappy childhoods and 
patterns of abuse. Their meager self- 
esteem can be sustained only by a man. 
So they marry hastily, have a child and 
then discover that their charming suit- 
or has become a monster. When they 
can no longer take being abused by 
their husbands, the women file for di- 
vorce and are awarded custody of their 
children. This loss of control infuriates 
the ex-husband. To reassert his control 
(and, in his mind, his manhood), he 
kidnaps his own child from his or her 
mother and escapes to his foreign 
homeland. 

If that child has been abducted to 
one of the foreign countries that signed 
the Hague Convention Treaty on Civil 
Aspects of International Child Abduc- 
tion. the mother can get help from the 
U.S. State Department. But if that ab- 


ducted child is in a country that hasn't. 
signed the Hague Treaty—most of 
which are in the Middle East, Asia and 
Latin America—the U.S. government. 
is helpless. The best the government 
can do, saysa State Department spokes- 
woman, "is attempt as best we can to 
locate the children and visit them and 
report on their health." Often, the 
mother is warned not to attempt a 
"hostile recovery" of her child by 
American citizens such as Don Feeney, 
because it might precipitate a dramatic 
international incident. In fact, when 
Feeney and his CTU team recovered 
their first kidnapped child from Jor- 
dan in 1988, the U.S. State Depart- 
ment vas so incensed that itapologized 
to the Jordanian government. 

Feeney claims it is not CTU but the 
"host countries" that are the criminals. 
"We aren't the judge and jury," he says. 
“We just supply the result adminis- 
tered by an American judge that no 
one else will do." 

Connie Ghozzi asked the State De- 
partment for help to ger her son, Elias, 
back from Tunisia, where Connie's es- 
tranged husband, Nabil, had taken 
him. But she was told there was noth- 
ing to be done. “That's what you get 
for marrying a foreigner,” said a State 
Department official, who added, “You 
can always have another child.” She 
was warned not to attempt a hostile re- 
covery, especially not with Don Feeney 
of CTU. So Connie went to a private 
investigator who claimed he had expe- 
rience in such recoveries, and she paid 
him $70,000. "He was a phony,” says 
Connie. “Then 1 went to another guy, 
and he was incompetent. That cost me 
$30,000.” Connie was so frustrated she 
returned to the State Department. An 
official there reiterated what she had 
been told previously, and warned her 
again about Don Feeney and CTU. 

“After enough people had warned 
me about Don,” says Connie, “1 decid- 
ed he was the one I had to go to." 


Connie Ghozzi, now 42, is a shy, 
pretty woman with unblinking blue 
eyes that look almost owlish behind her 
thick-lensed glasses. After three mar- 
riages (one lasted two months and the 
others less than two years), she met 
Nabil Chozzi in 1988 in San Francisco, 
where she was managing an optical 
store. “He was charming and shy, and 
he chose me,” says Connie, “so I felt 


close to him. He said he was a Tunisian 
architect living here with a green card 
That wasn't true.” 

Once they were married, Connie 
says, her husband “changed drastically. 
He was always angry. He didn’t work. 
He stayed out all night and when 1 
questioned him he flew into a rage. I 
realized he didn’t even like me, he hat- 
ed me, but I was his property.” Later, 
Connie would learn that Nabil had a 
wealthy male friend who had given 
him money to court her so he could 
marry Connie and get a permanent 
visa. “He had lied like an SOB,” she 
says, “but after three failed marriages, 
and with me being pregnant, I felt 
maybe it was my fault, so I stayed.” 

After her son, Elias, was born (“Nabil 
liked to show him off to his Tunisian 
friends as if he were a new suit,” she 
says), Connie finally separated from 
her husband. While she waited out the 
separation, a friend's car, parked in 
front of her mother's house, was fire- 
bombed, her mail was rerouted and 
she became aware that someone was 
stalking her. Nabil forged $5000 in 
checks from her bank account. When 
Connie confronted him about the fire- 
bombed сат, he confessed, apologized 
and promised he would give her cus- 
tody of Elias if she didn’t press charges. 
Against her better judgment, she let 
him take Ehas for the weekend. When 
they didn’t return on Monday, Connie 
knew Nabil had abducted her son to 
Tunisia. 

Feeney took Connie's case for a fee 
of $50,000 and expenses. He encour- 
aged her to continue contact by tele- 
phone with Nabil in Tunisia and to try 
to convince him she still loved him and 
wanted to join him where she could be- 
come a proper Tunisian wife. When 
Nabil fell for this ruse, Connie went to 
live with him in his parents' home on 
the Mediterranean. Meanwhile, Don, 
his wife Judy and their CTU team fiew 
to Tunisia to set up their sting. 

1n Tunisia, Nabil's parents watched 
Connie day and night. She was never 
left alone except when she slept with 
Elias, who was four. “Sleeping with 
Elias kept Nabil away from me sexual- 
ly,” says Connie. 

Nabil's parents eventually began to 
let Connie take walks on the beach with 
her son. Don had already made contact 
with Nabil, introducing himself as an 
American wine distributor who wanted 
to export Tunisian wine. (“It tastes like 
vinegar,” says Don.) He offered Nabil a 
job. Don made an appoinunent one 
day far from the Ghozzi home. After 
Nabil left home that day, Connie and 
Elias went for their walk on the beach. 
"I was terrified,” says Connie. “When 1 

(continued on page 130) 


а 
ЖУ, 
25 


li 


NY 


ii 


| SON | 


has very high cholesterol. 


see а man. He is very old. He is very rich. 


E 


He 


TA 


ecause he insists the truth be told about 

the human rights abuses of the Chinese 
government, Harry Wu has become a prob- 
lem for China and the U.S. Seventeen years 
ago Wu was released from the brutal “re- 
form through labor" camps of the Chinese 
laogai system after serving nearly 20 years 
for counterrevolutionary activities. He fled 
to the U.S. in 1985 and became an Ameri- 
can citizen. Since his release, Wu has secret- 
ly—and at great risk to himself —reentered 
China four times to document the human 
rights abuses of the regime. Carrying a small. 
video camera, he visited the camps where he 
was once held. In chronicling the horrific 
lives of the prisoners, Wu documented the 
use of forced labor to make products that are 
exported by China to the West. Posing as an 
American businessman, he exposed the trade 
in human organs for transplant, and his 
tape aired on “60 Minutes.” 

During his latest attempt to enter China 
this past June, Wu was detained by Chinese 
authorities and charged with spying and 
stealing state secrets. The charges are pun- 
ishable by death. Fate and coincidence inter- 
vened in the person of Hillary Clinton, who 
ша» scheduled to address the United Na- 
tion's Fourth World Conference on Women 
near Beijing this past summer. Both Clinton 
and the Chinese government promptly be- 
came hostage to the fate of Wu. The first la- 
dy hesitaled to address the women's confer- 
ence while an American citizen was being 
held in China, and the Chinese refused to re- 
lease a man who had exposed their embar- 
rassing secrets. Finally the Chinese blinked, 
sentencing Wu to 15 years and deportation. 

Deportation 
the foolhardy сате first and 
Wu was forcibly 


china critic sent back to the 

è U.S. At the con- 

on his home- jeene, Hilap 

land's use of — 2 еа 

bus 

slave labor, orsi 
P ий China. 

its thriving e Contributing 

itor Morgan 

human-organ Sirens sota 

trade and . ee 

lays after his re- 

why he can't тот China. 
а, a. 

wait to get PLAYBOY: Why 

back did you again 


risk death in 
order to return 
to China? 


PHOTOGRAPHY BY DAVID ROSE 


wu: There are thousands of brave men 
and women—workers, students, intel- 
lectuals and religious leaders—who are 
being tortured and forced to labor in 
the gulag—or as it is called in Chinese, 
the laogai—simply because of their de- 
sire for freedom and democracy. Their 
suffering is real, their future is dark, 
their sense of isolation is much greater 
than mine. I must continue to expose 
the regime 


2. 


PLAYBOY: How many people have been 
put in prisons? 

wu: China has 8 million people in labor 
camps. We think that about ten percent 
are political prisoners, though it's dif- 
ficult to say because many are jailed for 
political crimes but charged with "dis- 
turbance of public order.” Some of the 
students from the Tiananmen Square 
massacre were charged with crimes. 
Three students threw paint on a por- 
trait of Chairman Mao; one was sen- 
tenced to life, the other two to 15 years. 
But they were charged with the crime 
of damage to public property 


3. 


PLAYBOY: The U.S. imports billions of 
dollars in goods from China. How 
many of these goods are produced with 
slave labor? 

wu: Chinese law requires that prison- 
ers spend 12 hours a day in forced la- 
bor. The amount of what they produce 
that is exported is a state secret. But as 
an example, China is the largest ex- 
porter of tea in the world, and one fifth 
of the production comes from labor 
camps. 1 worked in a labor camp that 
produced grapes. Dynasty, the famous 
Chinese wine, came from that vine- 
yard—10 million pounds of grapes a 
year. In a labor camp, you go to work 
when the sun rises. When it sets, you 
come back. There is a saying there: 
"Good labor, good food; no labor, no 
food; less labor, less food." Quotas are 
set by the camp commanders, and if 
you don't meet them you are punished. 
"The government is trying to get West- 
ern firms to set up in China. Volvo was 
asked to build a plant there, and so was 
Adidas. But when these companies 
found out the laborers would be from 
the camps, they said no. 


de 


PLAYBOY: China also has a thriving, gov- 
ernment-sponsored business in the 
transplant of human organs. 


So ON SS 
WU: Yes. Prisoners are sentenced to 
death, and after—or before—execu- 
tion their organs are removed. There 
were, for instance, 10,000 kidney 
transplants in China last year, 90 per- 
cent of which used the organs of exe- 
cuted prisoners. If you have money 
and need an organ transplant, you can 
receive one from China or go there 
and have it done. I videotaped a pris- 
oner whose kidneys were surgically re- 
moved while he was alive, and then the 
prisoner was taken out the next day 
and shot. The organs remain fresher 


that way. The tape was broadcast by 
the BBC. 


5. 


PLAYBOY: When you were arrested and 
charged with spying this last time, that 
tape was part of the evidence against 
you. You confessed to the spying 
charge, and you also confessed to the 
crimes you were carlier accused of and 
sent to the camps for. Why did you 
confess? 

wu: The first time 1 was arrested, in 
1960, I didn't know why. I thought I 
was accused of stealing $50 from my 
college roommate. I was taken to a 
prison and interrogated. The police 
demanded I confess, so I finally said I 
stole the $50. I didn't, but I said I did. 
Then they got angry and said, *No, 
that's not your crime." One of the 
guards kicked open the door to anoth- 
er room. Men were lying on the floor, 
beaten and bleeding, and others were 
hanging from the ceiling by their 
hands and feet. So I said, "Yeah, yeah! 
That's right, that's not my crime. I'ma 
counterrevolutionary rightist.” They 
said, “That's right. That is your crime. 
Now you can go to the camp.” When I 
got to the camp I was finally told what 
my sentence was. It was three years. 
That's the way it is in China. Arrest. 
Sentence. The labor camp. And then 
a trial. 


6. 


PLAYBOY: But didn't you serve nearly 
20 years? 

wu: They just kept extending it. Finally 
I got out in 1979. I had asked the 
police at the camp why my sentence 
was being extended, and they said, “If 
you ask, we will shoot you." So I still 
don't know. The authorities make you 
confess, but confessions don't mean 
anything. They want you to demean 
yourself by confessing over and over 
again. They want to break you. If you 


PLAYBOY 


124 


confess, they're happy—even if they 
know you didn't do anything. They de- 
stroy you that way. If you don't confess, 
how can they reform you? So if you don't 
confess they torture you until you do. 
Then they are happy to reform you, 
over and over. 


7. 


PLAYBOY: But weren't you born a coun- 
terrevolutionary rightist? 

wu: [Laughs] Yes. My father was a banker, 
and we were wealthy at the time of the 
Communist takeover. So I was by birth a 
part of the bourgeois class. The lower 
classes and the bourgeois class are the 
enemy classes in China. But I was al- 
lowed to enroll in Beijing College of Ge- 
ology as someone who could be reedu- 
cated. I was an honor student and 
captain of the best baseball team in the 
country. Still, I was considered a rightist. 
Finally, in 1957, during the period Mao 
called Let a Hundred Flowers Bloom, 
we were encouraged by the Commun 
Party to speak ош. I ized Rus: 
invasion of Hungary, and 1 was interro- 
gated about my criticism. I said, "You en- 
couraged me to speak out. ‘Let a Hun- 
dred Flowers Bloom,' you said." They 
said, "We wanted flowers. You are a 
weed." [Laughs] Three years later I was 
in the laogai. 


8. 


PLAYBOY: There is supposedly an eco- 
nomic rebirth in China. Will that change 
d d 

wu: That's true, the economy is good. 
But it is supported in some measure by 
the trade in goods produced by forced 
labor, and also by foreign trade. Foreign 
trade accounts for a good deal of the 
economy. There are 500 major enter- 
prises, state run, in China. But most of 
them, 61 percent, would be bankrupt 
if not for state subsidies. If that hap- 
pened, millions of people would be on 


the streets. And that would mean the 
end of the regime. 


9. 


PLAYBOY: So the very fact of trade with 
China allows the brutality to continue? 
wu: I saw on the news that former presi- 
dent Bush was in Vietnam saying that 
trade can improve human rights. What 
was he talking about? It’s the typical po- 
litical theory today that economic devel- 
opment means democracy. Economic 
development does not mean democracy 
will follow. In China, it only means that 
those in power will remain in power. 
Trade only keeps the regime alive. With- 
out trade the regime would collapse. 
Henry Kissinger is a great advocate 
of this. 


10. 


PLAYBOY: Why are you so critical of Hen- 
ry Kissinger? We understand that he 
helped get you out. 

ми: During my interrogation at my last 
arrest, a general came in, which is un- 
usual. He said Kissinger was comin, 
didn't understand what he was talking 
about. He meant Kissinger was coming 
to China, not coming to see me. He said 
he was coming with a delegation of pow- 
erful businessmen who were interested 
in doing business with China. The fact 
that I was in jail was an embarrassment. 
The general thought 1 had arranged for 
Kissinger to intercede. But yes, he did 
help, both in his personal appeal to Chi- 
na's leaders and in his writing in the Los 
Angeles Times. 


п. 


rıaysov: But you fault his methods of 
dealing with China? 

wu: I was in prison when Kissinger and 
Nixon visited China in 1972. Everybody 
said that was great, that things would 
change. And when, in 1984, Nancy Rea- 
gan had that song, Love Me Tender, 


played in the Great Hall Hotel, every- 
body thought that was nice. That was 
very good for the Kissinger campaign. 
For a decade there was no criticism of 
China. Then in 1989 there was the 
Tiananmen Square massacre, and Kis- 
singer said it was only temporary. He 
even said that if that sort of demonstra- 
tion happened in any country's capi- 
tal, the government would have to act. 
But the Chinese people are still waiting 
for the “temporary” situation to come to 
anend. 


12. 


pLavñov: Meanwhile, plenty of people 
are getting rich. Would you favor trade 
sanctions? 

wu: Sanctions are not realistic. But why 
is it that the Soviet Union never enjoyed 
most-favored-nation status? Because of 
its deplorable record on human rights. 
China is worse than South Africa ever 
was, but there is no boycott. 


15. 


PLAYBOY: What would you recommend? 
wu: The last time I was arrested and im- 
prisoned, the police carried cellular 
phones. That's how the security police 
communicate in China. We can stop sell- 
ing them cellular phones, for one thing. 
Ме can stop trading in products made by 
forced labor. We can stop the exchange 
of military information. We can stop pro- 
viding the Chinese with high-tech infor- 
mation. We can cut off no-interest and 
low-interest loans. We can put a quota on 
textile imports. There are a lot of things 
we can do to force them to reform. They 
depend on us for survival, and they are 
sensitive to foreign pressure, 


14. 


PLAYBOY: Well, you got out because of it 
But don't you think there might be a 
racial equation to all this? 

wu: I understand there is a cultural gap. 
People in the West enjoy Tchaikovsky 
and the Russian ballet. They have never 
enjoyed Beijing opera. The world con- 
demned the concentration camps in 
Germany and denounced the gulags in 
Russia. There are novels and movies 
about them, but not about the gulags of 
China. You know what it said over the 
entrance to the camp I was in? LABOR 
MAKES FREEDOM, just like over the en- 
trance of Dachau, ARBEIT MACHT FREI. 1 
visited Dachau. | said to my Chinese 
companion, "Aren't we human beings? 
Don't we have a right to be considered 
human beings? If we are human beings, 
why can't we stand up straight?" 


15. 


pLaynoy: Why does the U.S. seem reluc- 
tant to irritate China? 

wu: China has nuclear weapons. That's a 
big problem. 1f China becomes an eco- 
nomic giant—and that's possible if we 
continue to feed it—then you'll have 


real big problems. China supports North 
Korea. The U.S. fought China in Korea 
and lost 37,000 men. China supported 
Vietnam, and the U.S. lost nearly 60,000 
men there. China sells missiles to Paki- 
stan, nuclear material to Iran and Scud 
missiles to Iraq. Why would we want to 
appease this despotic regime and make it 
stronger? Why do we allow millions of 
people to suffer in camps? 


16. 


PLAYBOY: Why have you taken it upon 
yourself to expose the regime? 

wv: There are two reasons. First, I can- 
not turn my back on the people in the 
camps. lm free, but they are not. 


17. 


PLAYBOY: And the other reason? 

wu: China is my motherland—my par- 
ents' graveyard, my brother's graveyard. 
And that is where 1 want to have my 
grave. It isa moral-consciousness kind of 
thing. I have to gather the information, 
be a witness. 1 want to expose what they 
are doing. Communists are liars. 


18. 


PLAYBOY: Was there a deal for you to be 
released, or deported, to allow Hillary 
Clinton to attend the women's confer- 
ence in China? 

wu: I think there was an understanding 
between the White House and the Chi- 
nese government. I don't know if there 
was any deal per se. But China was going 
to deport me whether I wanted to be de- 
ported or not. I was forced to go. I left 
the prison with 16 police officers as my 
escorts to make sure I got on the plane. 
[Laughs] 


19. 


PLAYBOY: You served almost 20 years in 
Chinese labor camps, where you were 
beaten frequently and nearly starved to 
death. Your sentence this time was 15 
years plus. And you wanted to stay? 

wu: Yes, I told them I would not leave. 
They came to me the morning after the 
trial last August. The judges, three of 
them, came to my cell. They said, "We 
are thinking about your health and your 
family. We have decided to deport you 
immediately instead of having you serve 
your sentence first.” | said, "No, I want a 
fair trial. I have the right to appeal," 
which I knew would take years, but I 
would have appealed. They became an- 
gry and said, "Are you sure?" I said yes. 
Then they said they were going to de- 
port me anyway. 


20. 


pLavpoy: If you return to China, and if 
the authorities catch you, they will like- 
ly kill you. Would you take the risk of 
going back? 

wu; IF 1 get the chance, I have to go. 


BRUCE WILLIS 


(continued from page 76) 
handles better than I do. There are cer- 
tain areas I handle better. 

PLAYBOY: What do Bruce Willis and Demi 
Moore fight about? 

WILLIS: Same stuff as anybody. Just the 
litle things that come up. We've kind of 
found our spots and our way of sharing 
the responsibi 

PLAYBOY: When you're on location, does 
your family stay home? 

WiLLIS: We all travel like a big circus. Like 
gypsies. And when we're not working, 
we split our time between our ranch and 
New York City. The children are in 
school near the ranch. I spend every sec- 
ond I can with them. After I finished 
Pulp Fiction and before 1 started Die Hard 
With a Vengeance, 1 had eight months off 
and was with them every day. 

PLAYBOY: When you had your first child, 
did you have to learn how to be a father? 
wittis: I was prepared for it. I don't 
know how I learned, but it was never 
hard and I never had to make a major 
adjustment. I was ready to be a nurtur- 
ing, caring, hold-my-baby father. 1 
pulled all three of them out. Caught 
them. 

PLAYBOY: We all saw your wife when she 
was pregnant on the famous Vanity Fair 
cover. What did you think of it? 

WILLIS: It was incredible. She really goes 
out of her way to push the envelope, and 
I admire that. Most people loved it— 
women said they felt it was a celebration 
of womanhood and motherhood. And 
there were some negative reactions, 
which came once again from the 
parochial attitudes of America. Some- 


thing as pristine as motherhood, as 
bringing a child into the world, was 
somehow turned around to be some- 
thing bad, especially down South. They 
were pulling the magazine off the 
stands. Yet I thought it was the strongest 
affirmation of motherhood and woman- 
hood that I have seen out of the past 
100 years. 

PLAYBOY. The reaction against a woman 
who shows her pregnant body is similar 
to the one against women who breast- 
feed their babies in public. 

WILLIS: We got that, too. My wife just 
said, “Hey, you know what? Go fuck 
yourself. This is my child and I'm going 
to feed her when and where she is 
hungry.” 

PLAYBOY: Do you think your parents were 
good teachers? 

WILLIS: No, though I don't blame them 
or anyone from that generation. They 
just had much less information about 
what children need. 

PLAYBOY: What was your hometown like? 
WILLIS: A small place, 6000 or 7000 peo- 
ple, on the Delaware River in south Jer- 
эсу. My father was a welder, master me- 
chanic and pipe fitter. 1 come from a 
long line of mechanics and handymen. 
PLAYBOY: And when did you lose your 
virginity? 

WiLLIS: Early. 

PLAYBOY: Do you remember her name? 
WILLIS: You would think so, but I don't. 
PLAYBOY: How traumatic was it when 
your parents split up? 

WILLIS: As traumatic as it is for anybody. I 
was the oldest, so 1 had a little more 
awareness of the problem and the ten- 
sion in our house. Our family kind of ex- 
ploded and everybody went off on their 


“You must learn to be in touch with your inner tadpole." 


125 


PLAYBOY 


own. Gradually, the kids came back to- 
gether and had an even tighter bond be- 
cause of the experience. At the time, 
1 stayed with my dad, and my two 
younger brothers went to live with 
my mom. 

PLAYBOY: What was the impact? 

WiLLIS: I'm sure I was affected by it. I 
know I'm never going to stay in a mar- 
riage if I'm really unhappy. I don't think 
anybody should. Life 15 too short to 
spend what little precious time you have 
alive being unhappy. 

PLAYBOY: Were you a good student? 
wituts: I did all right, especially in the 
humanities. The best thing I got out of 
school was an enjoyment of reading. But 
I went into high school in 1968. We did 
everything everybody did ar that time. 
Smoked dope, learned to drink early, 
hung out. 

PLAYBOY: You were kicked out of school, 
weren't you? 

WILLIS: When I was a senior I was ex- 
pelled because 1 was involved in what 
was called a race riot. In retrospect, 1 
don't think it had as much to do with 
race as it did with 17- and 18-year-old 
guys looking to fight. They expelled 25 
white kids and 25 black kids. I ended up 
missing the last three months of my se- 
nior year. 1 was pretty shook up by that. 
[Laughs] I'm being sarcastic. I had a ball. 
PLAYBOY: You stuttered but found that it 
stopped when you were onstage. Did 
you figure out why? 

WiLLIS: When I acted I was being a dif- 
ferent person. The emotional trigger 
that caused me to stutter—I don't know 
what the fuck it was—stopped when I 
would act. Finally, I told myself I wasn't 
going to be affected by it, and I grew out 
of it. 

PLAYBOY: Weren't you once busted for 


For two joints, one behind each 
ear. I was taken off to the calaboose. I 
was 19. At the time it was a misde- 
meanor. I inhaled. 

PLAYBOY: When did you first act? 

wiLus: In high school. I was always into 
it, though. I trace it back to when I was 
in the Cub Scouts. We did a skit in the 
Scout jamboree that got a big laugh. 
There were 500 people on this hillside 
and we got this huge, thunderous laugh. 
I went, "Oh, wow, that is an interesting 
feeling." As soon as I got to college and 
auditioned for my first play, 1 said, "This 
is it.” 

PLAYBOY: Was your plan to be in the the- 
ater in New York? 

WILLIS: Yeah. The college I went to was 
20 minutes outside New York, in north 
Jersey. By my second year 1 was sneak- 
ing out of class to audition for plays. In 
1976 1 left school and never looked back. 
With each job I got a little better. 
PLAYBOY: Did you make a living working 
as an actor? 
WILLIS: I made a li 


ing by tending bar, 


126 mostly. 


PLAYBOY: You knew John Goodman in 
those days, right? 

WILLIS: Yeah. John was one of the gang. 
He really kicked it off when he got this 
John Deere commercial. Everybody 
thought, Wow, man, Goodmar's got a 
John Deere commercial! I used to do a 
lot of extra work in commercials, too. 
Then I got a Levi's commercial and 
made some good dough for the first 
time, when a hundred bucks seemed like 
a million. Soon after that, I got a part in 
the play Fool for Love, and from that I got 
an agent. The agent sent me to Holly- 
wood to try out for a little job called 
Moonlighting. 

PLAYBOY: Did you know the show would 
be your big break? 

WILLIS: I had no idea. It was just another 
job for me. I thought, TV pilots? Dime a 
dozen. I thought 1 would do this pilot 
and go back to New York. But it caught 
on and became—boom!-—this thing. It 
was just magic. I would hold up the orig- 
inal pilot against anything that's ever 
been on TV. It was like an experimental 
theater group. We were doing some- 
thing that was on the edge. There were 
hardly any rules. Cybill was fabulous. 
Particularly in the first few years, we 
were both really jamming. 

PLAYBOY: Besides great lines, overlapping 
dialogue, occasional jokes in the direc- 
tion of the viewer and intriguing plots, 
the show sizzled because of the relation- 
ship between your character and Cybill 
Shepherd’s. The fights you and she 
had—on-screen and offscreen—became 
legend. 

wiLLIS: It's like any rumor that gets 
blown out of proportion. We would dis- 
agree about how scenes should be 
played, but that’s part of the process. Ul- 
timately the only thing that matters is 
what serves the story. They chose to say 
we were fighting about it. It sold a lot 
more National Enquirers to say that we 
were fighting than to say, “Nothing hap- 
pened this week on Moonlighting.” 
PLAYBOY: And then there was the sexual 
chemistry, which was, in the words of 
one writer, “hot enough to bend Plexi- 
glas.” Was it just good acting? 

WILLIS: There were hot days, days when 
things might have sparked or some- 
thing. But there was nothing to report. 
It wasn't like we were in love with each 
other or there was any kind of romance 
going on. If anything, at the end of the 
day we were sick of each other; we were 
together all day, every day, in almost 
every scene. 

PLAYBOY: Around that time you became 
famous for your partying. 

WILLIS: That was the middle of my so- 
called wild years. It was partly a lack of 
having anything to be responsible to. 


extended family. I have a job, too. When 
is job,” 150 other 
people get a job because of it. Before, I 
was a singular organism moving through 


the universe. It’s not like I was ever out 
in a car drunk, running down little kids. 
But I was playing my music loud and 
partying with my friends. 

PLAYBOY: And you were arrested for dis- 
turbing the peace, 

WILLIS: Yeah, and I guess disturbing the 
peace is a fairly serious crime, right up 
there with drive-by shooting, kidnap- 
ping and setting the Los Angeles hills 
on fire. 

PLAYBOY: What actually happened? 
WILLIS: The disturbing the peace thing 
came because I had brought a New York 
party sense to Los Angeles. In New York, 
you live right next door to and above 
your neighbors. You do your thing and 
they do their thing. You party, you do 
whatever you want. When I moved to 
L.A., I got a house in the Hollywood 
Hills, in a residential neighborhood, and 
I was jamming with my friends all night. 
I was single, and I was in and out, people 
around all the time, all hours of the 
night. I was stupid. I was rude to my 
neighbors, and 1 just didn't think about 
it until it was too late. 

PLAYBOY: Are all of your vices behind 
you now? 

WILLIS: Yeah. I still do dangerous things, 
but I have cut way down. I have a much 
stronger awareness of my own mortality. 
I'm much more careful than I used to 
be. I wear a helmet when I ride my mo- 
torcycle. 1 don’t need my kids saying, 
"Oh. Daddy fell off his motorcycle and 
cracked his head open. Now we have no 
more Daddy" I consider the conse- 
quences of things, which I never did be- 
fore. I take my children into considera- 
tion before I make any decision. I'm 
more interested in my children than 
anything else. You have the opportunity 
to do so much for your kids when they 
are very young. That's a gift I'm fortu- 
nate enough to be able to give my kids— 
me. My time. So many fathers work 12, 
14 hours a day, 50 wecks a ycar, just to 
keep the money and the machine mov- 
ing. I’m fortunate, and I think my kids 
will benefit from it. The fact that parents 
don't have time for their kids is one of 
the biggest problems. And how bad the 
school system is. For kids who don't have 
strong families, the only chance they 
have is if the schools do their job. It’s a 
problem that could be solved in—I'm 
going to guess—five years. If the govern- 
ment just threw money at it, in five years 
1 guarantee you it would be a lot better 
than it is now. 

PLAYBOY: Yet many of your fellow Repub- 
licans say money isn't the problem. 
WILLIS: It is the only problem. You can't 
raise a family on a schoolteacher's salary. 
If salaries were doubled, you would have 
so many good people going back to 
teaching. Great teachers smart people 
who want to teach but simply can't be- 
cause they can't afford to make $17,500 a 
year. Whatever the fuck the money is be- 
ing used for, give it to teachers. Don't 


build a shuttle, OK? Take that off the list 
this year and give it to the schools. Take 
the money we spend right now to defend 
Japan. Send them a bill for it, at cost— 
wholesale. Spend that money on schools. 
Raise teachers’ salaries. I'm sure the 
politicians can come up with a thousand 
reasons why it can't be done, but I bet if 
they just tried, it would make a huge dif- 
ference. [Shaking his head] 1 have great 
problems with government. 
PLAYBOY: Yet you were a vocal Bush sup- 
porter in the last campaign. Republicans 
are notoriously tougher on education 
spending than Democrats. 
ули: I'm not going to defend that. 
There are a lot of things about both par- 
ties that I don't agree with. I'm a Repub- 
lican because I believe some of what they 
choose to believe: that smaller govern- 
ment and less government is better, and, 
ultimately, lower taxes. But first you 
have to spend money on education, on 
helping people who can't eat. It's com- 
mon sense. It goes without saying: Take 
care of the elderly people who can't 
do it themselves; take care of the kids 
who can't eat. 
PLAYBOY: You're sounding morc like a 
Democrat all the time. 
WILLIS: The Republicans, though, want 
to cut waste and taxes. Now there's no 
accountability from the time the money 
leaves your pocket, daddy-o. I envision a 
big pile of $100 bills up there in Wash- 
ington, and they're all taking a piss on it. 
“Oh, there's one! You didn't get that 
one!” Can't we have accountability for 35 
percent or 28 percent or 50 percent of 
every dollar we earn? 
PLAYBOY: How serious is your interest in 
politics? 
WILLIS: My checkered past will always 
keep me out of politics. Unless they start. 
grading on a curve, I'm not going to get 
in. But I do know what we need: to dean 
housc. Get them all the fuck out. Start 
over and put my dad and your cousin 
and your nephew and my aunt in. Say, 
“Figure it out and do the right thing 
Start by watching the dough." There are 
a lot of good ideas down there that just 
aren't being considered because people 
are making too much fucking money off 
of not doing the right thing. Lik 
there's too much crack! Kids are dı 
The cocaine thing is an epidemic?" 
about we declare war on Colombia? It's 
over or we're coming in and we're going 
to make you the 515: state. But some- 
body is making money off this. Billions, 
hundreds of billions, gigabillions. What- 
ever the fuck—the biggest amount. 
Houses of cash. Is there any doubt that 
some of it isn't bleeding up to Washing- 
ton somewhere? It couldn't exist without 
somebody looking the other way. 
Whenever it comes time for the доу- 
ernment to make a correction for past 
abuses, Congress shirks its responsibility. 
It just voted down a law about taking 
money from lobbyists. Where are term 


limits, the line-item veto and lower tax- 
es? No one will follow through on any of 
that—neither party. 1 am a big contribu- 
tor to the US. Treasury. Half of every 
dollar goes to the government. It's a 
partner with me right down the line. 
The inheritance tax. Your dad or any- 
body's dad works his whole life to pay off 
a 30-year mortgage. At the end of it, 
when he dies, if his kids don't have the 
tax money, ifthey can't come up with 50 
percent of the value of it, it gets taken 
away. That is not a government that's 
there to serve. That's just theft. It's steal- 
ing. And the government gets away with 
it. | would feel better about it if the mon- 
cy were going anywhere besides into this 
big pile in the backyard that they're all 
pissing on. It's why I got involved in the 
last election. 

PLAYBOY: Will you be involved in 1996? 
WILLIS: We'll see what happens this 
spring. Well see how things shake out. 
PLAYBOY: As the father ofthree girls, what 
can you teach your daughters that their 
mom can't? 

The only gift that 1 really see my- 
g them is the truth about guys. 
PLAYBOY: Which is? 

WILLIS: You know the truth about guys. 
What were you thinking about when you 
were 17 years old? The same thing I was 
thinking about. The same thing every 
17-year-old guy thinks about. That’s the 
information my girls have to get. ГЇЇ say, 
“Look. you've got to understand: This is 
your body. It belongs to you. No one can 
touch it, no one can take it away from 
you. No one can get in there without 
your saying so. You have to have enough 
knowledge and enough strength to 
know that it’s your choice.” 

PLAYBOY: On the other hand, what would 
you tell boys? 

элшз: “Go get ‘em, guys!” [Laughs] It's a 
whole different speech. It's just acknowl- 
edging reality. 1 read Robert Wright's 
The Moral Animal, in which he sums it up. 
He presents the thesis that everything 
we do—as men and women—is in re- 
sponse to a genetic impulse to do one 
thing and one thing only: Get our genes 
into the next generation. It explains 
everything. I read it and went, "Oh fuck, 
of course! That's it.” 1 could go back and 
explain every move 1 ever made vith 
that in mind. Perpetuate the gene pool, 
ything we see going 
, money, war. We 
try hard, but we're animals. We're just 
donkeys walking up to the trough for 
food and wanting to fuck everything we 
see because of this u 
If you're heterosex 
est, you must admit that the first thing 
that comes to mind when you look at 
a woman is, Hey, I'd like to fuck her. 
We have to admit it. It's programmed in 
our genetic map. You're not thinking, 
Oh. there's a good childbearer. I could 
have a good brood of apes her. 
It's unconscious. All you're thinking is, 


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127 


Mmmm, yes. I'll take you and you. ... 
PLAYBOY: This is why, Wright points out, 
fidelity isn't always easy. Is that true even 
when you're married to Demi Moore? 
witus: [Laughs] Of course. It's why keep- 
ing any relationship going is such a 
struggle. We balance our responsibilities 
as parents and adults with our needs as 
individuals. You compromise, you sac- 
rifice, you decide what you will and 
won't do. But the reason it’s such a 
struggle is that we are human beings 
who were, not long ago, stomping 
around in the world, trying to fuck all 
the time to ensure the survival of our 
line. Wright says that out of all known 
human societies, the monogamous ones 
were a small minority. Everybody else 
was going fucking nuts. 
PLAYBOY: You sound like a reluctantly 
monogamous man. 
WILLIS: Let's be honest about what it 
takes. What is marriage? No woman is 
going to satisfy a man's natural impulse 
to procreate, procreate, procreate. The 
impulse doesn't go away because you 
have three or ten or a hundred kids. On 
an emotional level, to think that you are 
going to find one person who under- 
stands what you need right now and is 
able to give it to you, to anticipate what 
you will need ten years from now, 20 
years from now, 30 years from now—for 
the rest of your natural fucking life—is a 
myth. Yet that's what marriage is based 
on. If you're lucky. you might get 70 per- 
cent of your needs met. Maybe 80 per- 
cent. Probably 50 percent sometimes, 
and sometimes you don't get any of your 
needs met. It's crazy, against our nature, 
but we choose to continue because it has 
other values. I'm still doing it. And I 
choose to believe it is worth it. 
PLAYBOY: Is it worth it? 
WILLIS: Yes, even with the knowledge that 
marriage is a myth. In fact, our marriage 
works because we both understand that 
itisa myth to think, I've found the per- 
fect person and my life is fine now. It's a 
garden. You have to tend it every day. 
You water it, you keep the weeds out. In 
my early life, whenever had a problem, 
abig problem, it was, "OK, we're break- 
ing up. Done. Over." Demi and I have 
had problems that ten or 15 years ago 
would have made me walk. Now I know 
that it's just a valley and 1 have to hang 
in long enough to get back up on the 
hill. It's a hard gig. You've got to keep 
moving forward. We both know it's not 
guaranteed. We're in it together and try- 
ing hard. 
PLAYBOY: [s it tougher or easier because 
you're both in the same high-profile 
business? 
witus: I don't know if any marriage 
could be harder than when both people 
do the exact same fucking thing, when 
they are, in the eyes of the world, big 
shots—celebrities, superstars, whatever 
you want to say. We both do the same 
128 thing, both travel all the time. We both 


PLAYBOY 


average 300 hours a year on planes. On 
the other hand, when 1 come home after 
a day at work, how many people are re- 
ally going to understand what I've been 
through? She's one of a few. 

PLAYBOY: But in most jobs, you would 
come home at night and be with your 
wife. In yours, you can be isolated on 
a set for months with another beauti- 
ful woman. Many marriages involving 
movie stars fail because of those kinds of 
circumstances. 

элш: The time apart is, to a certain de- 
gree, controllable. But the opportunity 
to doanything bad, whether it’s cheat on 
your wife, kill someone, take a drug, 
commit a crime—whatever—is always 
there. I truly believe that in every hu- 
man being there’s an ongoing struggle 
between good and evil. As that guy who 
is still getting the information from a 
150-million-year-old genetic map inside 
of me, it’s difficult. But I choose to stay 
monogamous, not to fuck around. I be- 
lieve it’s the right thing to do. Is the op- 
portunity there all the time? Yeah, all the 
time. Every day. It's an adult choice, cer- 
tainly, compared to the choices 1 made 


I'm going to try to eat it 
all up today. Try to squeeze 
as much fun out of each day 
as I can. Because—boom!— 


I could be gone. 


when I was 20 years old, when I was led 
around by my dick. Whoever I wanted 
to fuck, I'd fuck, whether or not I had a 
girlfriend. Done. Now I'm old enough to 
make an adult choice and not agonize 
over it. 1 know that I am choosing to be 
with my wife and to stay with my wife. 
PLAYBOY: You are both extremely success- 
ful. What would happen if one of you 
had five bad years while the other were 
still soaring? 

witus: Here's a short answer to that 
question: I don’t know how to play the 
"What if?" game. You may as well ask, 
"What would happen if you died tomor- 
row?" I don't know if that's going to hap- 
pen, either. | refuse to speculate. Sure, 
it'd be fucked up if all of a sudden I'm 
flipping burgers or I'm on Hollywood 
Squares. You know what I mean? "I'll 
take Bruce Willis to block." I'd get some 
Moonlighting question. I know this: I 
don't have anything to say about when I 
die. I don't know when it's going to hap- 
pen or how it's going to happen. 1 don't 
know if I'm going to live to be old or die 
tomorrow. What I do know is that I'm 
going to try to eat it all up today. Squeeze 
as much fun out of each day as I can. I 


know thats an important thing be- 
cause—boom!—I could be gone. 

PLAYBOY: Was any of this new to you since 
you hit 40? 

WILLIS: No. I was surprised how seamless 
it was to turn 40. І have a lot of things 
going for me. I'm in the best shape of my 
life. Гуе got a couple dollars in my pock- 
et. I have a great family and great 
friends. Forty feels great. In my heart 
I'm like 22 anyway. I believe that around 
me are things 1 pulled into my orbit, 
gs I made happen. I'll take responsi- 
y for them—it's not like God put 
them there. I feel good about what's 
around me because I worked hard for it. 
PLAYBOY: Moonlighting's producer, Glenn 
Caron, once said: "Deep at his core 1 
think Bruce is very shy. He became very 
cocky to compensate.” Does that make 
any sense? 

wıttis: A lot of people don't know that 
Glenn was a psychologist before he be- 
came a writer and executive producer. 
Who knows? Maybe. For me cockiness is 
justa verbal tool. I think people general- 
ly confuse confidence with being cocky. 
Cocky is when you act confident but you 
can't really back it up. If you are con- 
fident, you can do what you say you can 
do. I've always been fairly secure in what 
I think about things and how I move in 
the world. I guess that's a form of confi- 
dence. People who are not confident are 
intimidated by that kind of confidence. 
Tr has nothing to do with heing surcess- 
ful or famous; I experienced that 15 
years before I was famous. But, hell, who 
cares? I've been called cocky by some of 
the best writers our country has to offer. 
And they all seem to remark on "that 
smirk." Hey, this is my face. This is just 
how I look. This is how I smile— 
crooked. I smile to the side. When Moon- 
lighting first came on, everyone said, 
"Oh, the smirk. We love him. Look ho 
charming he is with that fucking smirk 
Then, allofa sudden, it became this neg- 
ative thing. "Oh, he's smirking. I'd like 
to wipe that smirk off his face." I'm sure 
they'd like to barbecue me, but it's just 
the way I happen to smile. So anyway, 
being 40 is fine. The only thing 1 have 
really figured out in 40 years is how 1 
want to live my life now. Try to do good 
gs. Try to help people. Help my fam- 
ily, my friends. Try to live my life as a 
good man. 

PLAYBOY: Anything else? 

WILLIS: Yeah, you can print this caveat at 
the end of the interview if you want. If I 
have offended anyone during the previ- 
ous discourse in which I reflected on 
how I feel about any number of things in 
the world: (A) I had no idea what I was 
saying or that they would print it. (B) It 
is my personal opinion and does not 
reflect the opinion of any group or orga- 
nization. Take it or leave it at that. (C) Go 


fuck yourself. 


"It's your own damn fault, Hoffman—testing it on yourself first.” 


129 


= 
© 


ELAYE 


130 


RES E LIE (continued from page 120) 


Both are usually armed, because more than one hus- 
band they have scammed has threatened to kill them. 


got to our rendezvous point no one was 
there. I thought had been dumped and 
started crying. Then, there was a CTU 
employee in a gray car. | got in and he 
drove Elias and me to a hotel, where we 
waited almost two hours for Judy to ar- 
rive with the boat." 

Judy and another CTU operative had 
rented a speedboat on Pantelleria. They 
left the island in calm, sunny weather. 
When they arrived at a Tunisian port, 
they were met by police, who searched 
the boat and took their passports. Judy 
played the dumb tourist, smiling and 
nodding to the police. Before long, the 
police were smiling too. They gave the 
travelers coffee and returned their pass- 
ports. The boat then motored south 
along the Tunisian coast toward its ren- 
dezvous vith Connie and Don, who had 
joined the operation at that point. 

When everyone was onboard and the 
boat headed back out to sea, the weather 
turned. Rough swells tossed the little 


craft as if it were a matchstick. Connie 
was bodyslammed from one side to the 
other. Three of her ribs were broken. 
Just as they were about to leave Tunisian 
waters, a Tunisian patrol boat spotted 
them and gave chase. With the patrol 
boat in pursuit, the CTU team rocketed 
over the high swells until it reached Ital- 
ian territory and the Tunisians gave up 
the chase. 

“Our operations are scams," says Don, 
"95 percent brains. We cannot use 
weapons or fake documents in foreign 
countries. If I do, it's federal time.” But 
that doesn't mean CTU doesn't use the 
threat of physical force. In some cases, its 
operatives are armed, even if Feeney 
doesn't like to admit it. Gus Zamora is a 
former military man like Feeney. He's al- 
so, says Judy, "our resident bullshitter. 
He can talk his way out of anything." 
The operatives' physical presence alone, 
with beefy arms crossing their pufled-up 
chests, is usually enough to intimidate 


"This is our latest. A combination love-and-hate 
potion. Very sophisticated.” 


most of CTU's marks, who, like most 
bullies, are cowards. Overall, CTU uses a 
revolving band of five operatives—in- 
duding a former commando in the 
Rhodesian army. an ex-policeman, a 
special operations Airborne Ranger and 
a former Royal Irish Ranger—as well as 
Don and Judy. 

Don is the leader of CTU. His second- 
best attribute is his ability to blend into a 
crowd. He can grow a beard and pass for 
an Arab one day, then shave it off, trim 
his hair, put on a powder-blue leisure 
suit and pass himself off as a tourist in 
front of the same people the next day. 
Judy says her best asset is that she can 
play "the dumb tourist housewife." In 
one scam in Thailand, she passed a bar 
that advertised GIRLS and PING-PONG. 
Judy exclaimed, "Oh, I love ping-pong!” 
and went inside. The girls were on their 
backs on the bar, shooting ping-pong 
balls out of their vaginas at customers. 

Judy is calmer and more reasoned 
than Don when under pressure. Don's 
first instinct, one former CTU employee 
says, is to "kick down the door and kill 
everyone.” Sometimes, Don's macho, 
Delta attitude toward women (“He wants 
to protect them,” says Judy) conflicts 
with Judy's knowledge of just how tough 
women can be. In one sting in Bangla- 
desh, the second wife ofa man who had 
kidnapped his first wife's daughter of- 
fered to return to him (they were sepa- 
rated) to help Judy and Don work their 
sting. Don was adamantly opposed to 
having the woman sleep with a man she 
despised. “Judy insisted she do 
says. “I said I wouldn't allow it. He was a 
scumbag. But Judy insisted the woman 
wanted to do it, so I gave in. Judy was 
right. We couldn't have snatched the kid 
if it hadn't been for the second wife." 

Corporate Training Unlimited was 
founded in 1986. In the early years Don 
usually relegated Judy to the side of the 
distraught mothers as a calming influ- 
ence. (The Feeneys have two teenage 
sons and a 21-year-old daughter.) In one 
case, Judy coached a mother, a Califor- 
nia secretary, to sweet-talk her husband 
out of Iraq, where he had taken their 
son. “Iraq was too dangerous for us to 
enter,” says Don. The wife convinced the 
husband to meet her in London for a 
reconciliation. When he arrived there 
with his son, he was arrested by Scotland 
Yard (the U.K. signed the Hague treaty). 
Mother and son were immediately put 
on a plane to the States. 

Lately, however, Judy has taken a 
more active role in CTU operations. She 
helps conceive the scams and often takes 
part in them. Judy is a blonde who 
likes to dress in jeans and sweatshirts. 
She doesn't think of herself as an attrac- 
tive woman. "When this guy came on to 
me once in Las Vegas," she says, "I said, 
"You mean me?'" Then she adds, “I was 


always tomboyish, I always thought men 
were more interesting than women. 1 
liked what the guys did.” 

“Judy's specialty is countersurveillance 
and evasive driving.” says Don. “She's al- 
so an expert with semiautomatic pistols.” 
Judy says her favorite pistol is a Czech 
CZ-75, but she's equally at ease carrying 
a Glock or a Browning Hi-Power. Éven 
at home in Fayetteville, North Carolina, 
she says, "I always have a gun in my 
hand when I get out of the car at night. 1 
want the neighbors and their kids to see 
that Mrs. Feeney has a gun and isn't 
afraid to use it.” Both Judy and Don are 
usually armed, even in Fayetteville, they 
say, because more than one husband 
they have scammed has threatened to 
kill them. 


"The CTU offices are situated in a non- 
descript strip mall along Raeford Road 
in Fayetteville. A white sign with red let- 
ters reads GLOBAL SECURITY, the name of 
CTU's umbrella company. It offers a 
host of courses and services: hostage 
rescue, shooting enhancement, protec- 
tive security, delensive driving and pro- 
fessional bodyguarding. CTU trains 
American business executives in Latin 
America on how to protect themselves 
with semiautomatic weapons. For $900, 
it offers a two-weck course to train peo- 
ple to become professional bodyguards. 
"We turn down guys with criminal back 
grounds," says Don. Judy says, "And 
guys with Charles Manson eyes." CTU 
will also set up executives’ homes with 
protection devices. "Either overt protec- 
tion," says Judy, "with home video cam- 
erasand a secure perimeter to scare peo- 
ple off, or covert protection to capture a 
real threat. What do we do? We hide in 
the trees." 

Both Judy and Don have been private 
bodyguards. Don worked for Mario Kas- 
sar, executive producer of Sylvester Stal- 
lone's Rambo series. “Mario is Italian and 
Lebanese," says Don, "and when he was 
filming in Israel he received death 
threats from Arabs who said he was a 
traitor. I set up a team to guard him 
there. Movie people are impossible to 
deal with because of their personalities. I 
couldn't guard Stallone. He's Aamboy- 
ant. He wanted ten big guys Hashing 
Uzis around him. 1 don't let people 
know I'm armed. Our goal is to save 
lives, not to put on a show. Sometimes I 
have to tell them their money's not 
worth my reputation if they were to get 
shot on my shift." 

Inside Global Security, there are a se- 
ries of small rooms sparsely furnished 
with cheap metal office desks and chairs. 
One large room is used as a conference 
room where instructors tutor a group of 
men Don describes as "government 
types" in the art of eavesdropping and 
countersurveillance. They are all ordi- 
nary-looking men taking notes—it looks 


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like college. The instructor points to a 
chart that reads: Presence, Verbal Com- 
mands, Control and Restraint, Chemical 
Agents, Impact Weapons, Deadly 
Force—the stages necessary to over- 
whelm an enemy. 

Behind the conference room is a stor- 
age room where CTU keeps its weapons 
in a safe. Alongside that is a small office 
adjoining Don's larger office. One morn- 
ing two CTU operatives were sitting 
there, drinking coffee and talking. One 
man had a beard and the other evident- 
ly had lucked into em- 
ployment despite hav- 
ing the "Charles 
Manson eyes" that 
Judy dislikes. Both 
were former Delta 
Force commandos 
The bearded man was- 
kidding the other 
about his habit of go- 
ing to punk bars look- 
ing for fights. In one 
fight, the man with 
Manson eyes was badly 
beaten. He went to his 
car, got his 45 pis- 
tol and waited 
for his attackers 
to emerge. When 
they did, he shot 
them. 

Finally, the two 
men begin dis- 
cussing an opera- 
tion, this one in- 
volving a difficult 
woman. “She's a ma- 
nipulative woman,” 
says the man with 
Manson eyes. 

The bearded man 
says, "Yeah, she's the 
kind of woman that if 
you use her for a job 
you have to kill her be- 
fore you leave.” 

“Do you want me to 
kill her?” 

“No, I was just kid- 
ding about that.” 

“T can kill her,” the 
man with Manson eyes 
says in the same tone 
of voice one might use 
to offer to drive to the 
grocery store. 

Inside Don’s office, Judy and Don 
plan another recovery, this one in the 
Philippines. Don has just returned from 
Manila, where he had gained entry to 
the Filipino father's house only to find it 
deserted. Now he has to go back again. 
"Time is running out," Judy says. The 
phone rings. It is another distraught 
mother who has heard of CTU. 
Throughout any given day the phone in 
the office will ring dozens of times. Don 
and Judy are always working on three or 
132 four recoveries at the same time. Check- 


PLAYBOY 


Ed 


oc | o> = 
s: The Baby Savers 


iE 
i 


fe 


ing the mothers’ stories. Juggling 
finances. Finding time. Time is their 
most limited resource. They seem never 
to have enough. They are rarely home, 
rarely together. In one recent four- 
month period, Don was gone for 25 
days, 23 days, 27 days and 29 days each 
month. 

What is Don's motivation for recover- 
ing children? “No one else is doing it,” 
he says. “It's primarily for the kids. We 
had a mother living with us who had no 
money. Her 


missi r 
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Teide m ep 
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Filmmaker Ploy 
Used In Effort 
To Seize Girls 


past. "Don and 1 are two kids who never 
had anything." she says. "Now we're 
making a dent in this world. Asa child I 
saw battered women, cheating men, al- 
cohol, broken marriages. I asked God to 
send mea good man. He did. Now I'm a 
mother and I can see the pain in other 
mothers’ eyes. I take it personally." 
“This is what makes it all worthwhile,” 
says Gus Zamora, smiling at Elias 
Ghozzi, the boy rescued from Tunisia. 
Gus is 40, a dark, bearded, hyper man of 
Basque descent, who has three children 
of his own. He was the pistol- 
shooting champion in the 
101st Airborne Division in 
1984, but left later that year 
because he wanted more ex- 
citement. “1 wanted an 
adrenaline flow," Zamora 
says. Over the next four years 
he popped up in 
Israel, where he 
went on patrols in 
Lebanon with Is- 
raeli troops. Then 
Gus was in Nic- 
aragua, working 
for the contras. Fi- 
nally, he became 
a personal body- 
guard to General 
John Singlaub, 
who was traveling 
around the States 
trying to raise 


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lines. Feeney and his wife, Judy, field dozens of requests a week at their North Car- 
lina office, which Feeney calls the court of last resort. "I can live anywhere,” says 
Judy. “A pup tent, if necessary. 1 would sacrifice anything to rescue these kids.” 


husband had taken her kid to Greece 
and we were trying to raise money to get 
the kid back. Most of these women are 
not wealthy. Wealthy people settle prob- 
lems with lawyers in court. It's not un- 
common for us to run out of money 
halfway through a mission. We continue 
because the kid deserves to live in Amer- 
ica. An abduction in Ecuador cost us 
$13,000, and the mother could pay us 
only $8000. But still, we affected her life. 
Ме got her kids back.” 

Judy's motivation has more to do with 
her maternal instina and her deprived 


money for the 
contras. When Gus 
first heard of CTU 
in the late Eighties, 
he contacted Don, 
Gus was so aggres- 
sive about joining 
CTU that Don grew 
leery of him. “He 
thought I was FBI,” 
says Gus. This was 
not an unnatural fear 
of Don's. Most gov- 
ernment agencies look 
askance at CTU, and 
Don and Judy are 
afraid of a govern- 
ment sting to lure 
them into some sort of 
illegal activity. 
Gus’ first assign- 
ment was as an inter- 
preter and assistant bodyguard instruc- 
tor, training Colombian bodyguards in 
the use of small arms for protecting their 
Shell Oil clients. He then joined Don in 
Saudi Arabia during Desert Storm. Don 
said they had drawn up a team of com- 
mandos to go into Iragi-occupied Ku- 
wait to rescue high-ranking Kuwaitis. 
The mission, instigated by the U.S. gov- 
ernment, was so secret that Don refuses 
to reveal details about it even today. 
Gus makes about $250 a day with 
CTU, but will often work for less. “I do 
things for Don I won't do for anyone 


else,” he says. "I need the excitement. If 
I'm home for two days, I start to pace. I 
have to get out of the house. I'll carry 
Don's bags if 1 have to." 

Don grew up in Brooklyn, where his 
major activity was sitting on his stoop at 
the corner of Clinton and DeGraw and 
dreaming of joining the Army. His par- 
ents were divorced when he was 13. "My 
father had an Irish beer habit," hc says, 
“but he docsn't touch beer now.” As a 
teenager, Don worked as a butcher and 
served coffee to the local wise guys while 
they played cards in social clubs that 
were not unlike Chez Bippy in the movie 
A Bronx Tale. 

When he was old enough, at 17, Don 
enlisted in the Army, eventually joining 
the 82nd Airborne stationed at Fort 
Bragg in Fayetteville. He was 510^, 117 
pounds and, by his own admission, not 
much of a fighter. He immediately vol- 
unteered for special operations, where 
he was trained to go behind enemy lines, 
blow up bridges and lead insurgencies. 
Eight ycars later, in 1978, he heard ofa 
secret new force being formed—Delta 
Force and volunteered for that, too. 
“They were looking for innovators,” he 
says. “People who would give 100 per- 
cent no matter what the odds. It was 
something real and I was the first.” 

It was “real” because its men were 
trained in the ultimate physical respons- 
es. Life was simplified for Delta men— 


good and evil, black and white, us and 
them. They were men taught to see life's 
conflicts in terms of physical solutions. 
When not training, they were men who 
ride motorcycles fast, skydive for amuse- 
ment or scale mountains. "We were the 
best special ops in ıhe world,” says Don. 
“Delta always won counterterrorist 
games because we could blow duwn a 
door and not hurt the hostages inside. 
Other countries’ commandos often did 
not care whom they killed.” 

In 1980 Don was on a C-130 transport 
plane assigned to the Iranian desert dur- 
ing the ill-fated attempted rescue of 
American hostages in Tehran. During 
refueling, a helicopter crashed into 
Don’s plane. Both crafts plummeted to 
the desert, killing eight men. For days, 
Judy thought Don was dead until she 
finally got word that he had survived the 
crash. But that disastrous Delta opera- 
tion would do irreparable damage to the 
psyche of Delta Force commandos. That 
day in the desert, they lost their sense of 
invincibility. 

Over the next six years, Don contin- 
ued to work for Delta Force. He was as- 
signed to guard a diplomat in Lebanon 
in 1982. In 1983, he took part in the 
rescue of American missionaries held 
hostage by Sudanese rebels. “We killed 
some of the bad guys,” says Don, “and 
the rest ran off.” 

Don's stay in Beirut in 1982 came back 


to haunt him. It ultimately destroyed his 
Delta career. While in Beirut, Don felt 
his per diem pay was insufficient to pay 
for his expenses. So he and other com- 
mandos worked out a deal with the own- 
er of a hotel where several of them 
would stay in one room and the owner 
would give back $10 a day to each man. 
“Delta taught us to be innovators,” he 
says. “To get the job done with no ques- 
tions asked.” Two ycars later, the Army 
demanded the commandos repay the 
kickback money and threatened court- 
martial. Don refused to pay back his 
share and refused to accept punishment. 

“If this was the way the system 
worked," he says, “I wanted out. I had 
lost faith in it. The hierarchy didn't un- 
derstand the way we were taught to do 
things." 

Eventually the Army dropped all 
charges against Don, and he was given 
an honorable discharge. “1 never regret- 
ted one day with Delta," he says. 


"The difference between Delta and 
CTU," Don says, “is that CTU doesn't 
have any support team." When Don 
started CTU in 1986, he thought he 
would mostly train bodyguards and 
SWAT teams and be a bodyguard him- 
self. But in 1988 Cathy Mahone asked if 
he would help her get her kidnapped 
daughter, Lauren, out of Jordan. Don 


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went to Jordan with his team and set up 
surveillance. When the child was going 
to school on a bus, he “snatched the kid” 
and fled toward the Israeli border in a 
car. Dave Chatellier, another operative, 
sped in the opposite direction with the 
Jordanian police in pursuit. When they 
caught up with Dave, he was sitting in 
his car, nonchalantly eating a candy bar, 
while Don and the child were crossing 
into Israel. The story of that rescue was 
eventually made into a TV movie star- 
ring Mariel Hemingway called Desperate 
Rescue. The attendant publicity from 
that movie led to dozens of pleas to CTL 
from other mothers who wanted help in 
recovering their children. 

Ever since they founded CTU, howev- 
er, the Feeneys’ finances have been pre- 
carious. Twice they returned from recov- 
eries to find a foreclosure notice on their 
house. The IRS put alien on their house 
for payment of back taxes. And twice the 
Feeneys have had to declare bankruptcy, 
the most recent time just before Don 
served a year in an Icclandic jail. That 
grim chapter began with Judy 

It was Judy who devised a scam to res- 
cue two girls from their Icelandic moth- 
cr, Erna, a pretty blonde who had mar- 
ried two men and lost Florida custody 
battles with her two daughters’ fathers 
An alleged drug abuser and child abuser, 
she snuck the children off to Iceland. 
Judy followed, posing as an advance 
scout for a Sylvester Stallone movie. Don 
came later (pretending to be the movie's 
director), as did James Grayson, the fa- 
ther of one of the girls. They took the 
children from a hotel room in Reykjavik 
while Erna was asleep. When she awoke, 
she called the police, who were unable to 
stop Judy (who was already on a plane 
with one daughter). But they did arrest 
Don and Grayson at the airport. Both 
men were convicted of kidnapping and 
sentenced to prison, Don for two years 
and Grayson for three months. 

Don was sent to a dormitory-like jail 
on a barren plain near a small, isolated 
town. He knew he could break out of the 
jail at will, but where could he go? He 
needed money, a passport, credit cards. 
He began to correspond with Judy, 
who'd eluded Interpol and was back in 
Fayetteville. She sent him grecting cards, 
all printed on thick, cardboard-like pa- 
per. He slit them open to find money 
and, once, an American Express gold 
card inside. By the time Don had accu- 
mulated $2000 and his gold card, he was 
ready to make his break 

One night, while the guards were 
watching TY, he slipped out of his room, 
picked the front gate lock and trudged 
into town. He rented a small plane that 
flew him toward the Faeroe Islands. But 
they were fogged in, so the plane had to 
land on an Icelandic island, where Don 
was captured by the police, returned to 


prison and put in isolation for six 
months. 

He ended by serving 12 months of his 
two-year term. Once he was reunited 
with his family, Don and Judy began to 
plot again on getting the iwo girls out of 
Iceland. (The child who left with Judy 
had been returned to Iceland.) They re- 
fer to their Icelandic caper as “the one 
that got away,” and it bothers them. “It's 
not over yet,” says Judy. 

The Feeneys' Iceland misadventure 
was one of their few bungled recoveries. 
Still, it has come back to haunt them. 
When Don was jailed, the Feeneys had to 
file for Chapter 11 protection. And CTU 
received its first negative publicity. Date- 
line NBC aired a program on March 
23, 1993 that hinted the Feeneys were a 
less than reputable couple. The show 
claimed James Grayson's mother had 
paid the Feeneys $40,000 and didn't get 
what she paid for. It suggested Don was 
forced to leave Delta under less than 
honorable circumstances for financial 
improprieties. The Feeneys slapped Date- 
line NBC with a $27 million libel suit that 
is still in the courts today. 

. 


Don's most bizarre rescue began in 
Brooklyn, when a mother hired CTU to 
recover her young son, Benjamin, whose 
American father had kidnapped him to 
Lima, Peru after the mother had won 
sole custody of the boy. And, the mother 
said, she was an Orthodox Jew and 
needed a rabbinical divorce, called a get, 
from her husband. In order to obtain 
the divorce she was sending three rabbis 
from the East Coast to Lima. They were 
going to convince her husband to say the 
words of the get so she could be free 
from her marriage. 

“What?” Don blurted out. “Do you 
know how hard it is to hide even one 
rabbi in Peru?” 

The three rabbis were precisely as 
Don had pictured them. They wore 
yarmulkes and long black overcoats and 
had long beards. Two of them weighed 
in excess of 200 pounds. One of them, 
the one from Brooklyn, was almost 300 
pounds. “I tried not to be a wise guy,” 
Don says, “but I told the one from 
Brooklyn how hard it would be to keep 
them unnoticed” in Peru. The rabbi said 
it still had to be done. The wife needed 
the get. It had already been transcribed 
by a special scribe with a quill pen, as it 
had been done for centuries. The rabbi 
from Brooklyn told Don that the words 
are usually recited by the husband of his 
own free will, but this time the husband 
wasn't cooperative. “The tribunal said 
we could do what we had to do to get this 
guy to say tlie words," the Brooklyn rab- 
bi says now. "Wc could usc force if we 
had to. Hey, he was a bad boy and I'm 
not such a simple guy myself. Гус done 
stuff in my life." 

While Don set up surveillance of the 


husband's house, the rabbis spent their 
time sight-seeing in Lima. One day, they 
were walking along a side street when 
they were mugged. They chased their 
attacker down an alley and caught 
him. “We beat him up,” says the Brook- 
lyn rabbi, “while a crowd watched and 
cheered, ‘Viva los norteamericanos!” The 
rabbi had no qualms about that beating. 
“An eye for an eye,” he says. 

On the day of the recovery, Don drove 
with the wife, the three rabbis and a Pe- 
ruvian cop to the father's house. He ap- 
proached the front door and knocked. 
The boy opened the door and Don said, 
"Hi, Benjamin. I'm a friend of your fa- 
ther's. Where is he?" The boy said he 
was in the bathroom. Don told Benjamin 
his mother was waiting for him in the 
car. As the boy ran toward his mother, 
Don, trailed by thc three overweight 
rabbis, charged through the house in 
scarch of the bathroom. When he heard 
a shower running behind a door, Don 
burst in, saw the steamy image of a body 
in the shower and crashed through the 
shower door. The father was bent over 2 
girl, screwing her from behind. “He was 
61^" says Don, “but he wasn't that fat." 
With help from the three rabbis, Don 
wrestled the soapy man out of the show- 
er and onto the bed in his bedroom. One 
of the rabbis threw a towel over the ter- 
rified girl, while the other rabbis pinned 
the man to the bed. The rabbi from 
Brooklyn began to recite the words of 
the get to the man, but the man said, 
“That's not right.” The rabbi said, “You 
wanna see a right?” and punched him in 
the face. Sull, the man refused to say the 
words of the get, so the Brooklyn rabbi 
placed a pillow over his face and began 
to smother him. “Either you do the get,” 
said the rabbi, “or your wife's a widow." 
The Peruvian cop became afraid that 
they were going to kill the father. But the 
rabbi lifted the pillow and the father, 
gasping for air, spluttered, “Whatever 
you want.” After the father said the 
words of the get, Don tied up and 
drugged him and the girl so there would 
be time to escape with the boy. 

When Don tells the story of the three 
rabbis in Peru, he conveniently forgets to 
mention the pillow and the drugs. But 
the Brooklyn rabbi doesn’t. “We did it,” 
he says, “but we didn't enjoy our work.” 
Then he laughs. 

When Judy later asked the rabbi if he 
would have killed the man, the rabbi 
said, “Would you have killed him? Some 
people don't deserve to live in this 
world.” 

Judy said, “And what about the fifth 
commandment: 

The rabbi said, “What about the 
eleventh commandment You have to do 
what you have to do, and don't get 


caught.” 
El 


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deep CANYON continued from page 80) 


Mike uncoils the ropes. I tie in and begin moving up 
the cliff, but all the rain has turned the rock to mud. 


splash forward until the darkness less- 
ens and the sides begin to spread back. 
Suddenly they open wide, like massive 
stone doors, and we step into a primeval 
cathedral. 

Baroque walls soar upward for 300 
feet, reach out for each other far above 
our heads, then halt in mid-arc. It is a 
sanctuary left open to heaven. Only a 
small piece of sky is visible. There are 
tiny porticoes and hanging pulpits and 
ornate balconies. Split apses. A dissolv- 
ing loggia. A choir of birds sweeping 
from one loft to the next. 

The magnificence of the architecture 
stills us. We walk knee-deep in the 
stream. We crane our heads back on our 
shoulders. Our feet stumble over under- 
water boulders as if they were sacred 
hymnals and diluvial texts. 

We pass through the nave. Through 
the chancel. Then the sidewalls drop in 
close again and we exit the cathedral. 

“Jesus!” 

“Yup,” says Mike. 

Not far beyond the cathedral, as if 
connected by an underground hallway, 
Les a maze ot elliptical chambers. 

“Catacombs,” cries Mike. He squints at 
me over his shoulder. I know what he's 
thinking. Back to Palermo, Sicily. We 
were 18. We illegally explored the cav- 
ern beneath an old church. It was hon- 
eycombed with crypts like these—but in 
Sicily each chamber held a body. 


At the end of a wide corridor with 
overhanging walls is a short headwall. It 
is our first obstacle. 

The streambeds of slot canyons are 
not flat. Instead, they drop over a series 
of benches, or steps. The run, the dis- 
tance from one step to the next, can vary 


from several hundred yards to several 
miles. The rise, the height of a step, can 
vary from ten to 100 feet. Each step is 
sliced up the middle with a single inci- 
sion caused by a ribbon of water running 
over the step and slowly cutting back- 
ward into the rock. Thus, inside deep 
slot canyons there are even deeper slits. 
Imagine a hallway out of Alice in Wonder- 
land, long and crooked with tall walls 
and no ceiling. The fioor has sloping flat 
stretches separated by steps of all sizes. 
Now imagine that the Mad Hatter has 
used a chain saw to cleave each step. 

Ascending and descending the head- 
walls inside a slot, cither through the slit 
or on the face, is one of the biggest chal- 
lenges of canyoneering. 

As we near the step we begin to hear 
it: a low rumbling that pours from the 
slit and rebounds down the passage. 

We enter the slit and wade into a 
glassy pool. The noise is tremendous. 
The sidewalls fit together overhead like a 
puzzle. The water rises to our thighs 
then recedes as we gain a hidden san 
bar. The pounding grows. We wade 
across another pool inside another cav- 
ern, slide around a wedge of stone, step 
inside. 

We have entered an hourglass: the 
glass shell turned to sandstone, the sand 
to liquid. Water is time and stone is his- 
tory. To canyoneer is to go back in time, 
back in history. 

Falls roar down from a hole overhead 
in the top of the hourglass. The pool is 
forever exploding. The walls of the 
chamber are unclimbable. 

“Impossible!” 1 yell. 

Mike smirks. 

We back out of the antechambers until 
we exit the slit. Mike points to a ramp 
that appears to ascend the step on the 


left-hand side. We scramble up it easily, 
gaining the next level in the canyon. 

Onward. 

Already we have fallen into our old 
rhythm. Trading leads. Moving fast 
Moving single file. Moving in unison. 
Our strides match and we have the same 
pace. This is essential. In the wilderness, 
if you can't move together, you can't be 
together. 

. 


It begins to rain. Not hard. Just rain 
dropping down between the walls. Mike 
leans his head back and catches the flut- 
tering drops in his mouth. 

"Never go when it's raining, never go 
when it's cold." He's using that radio 
preacher's voice. 

Up the canyon we go. We can't see far 
ahead. The bed of the stream curves and 
walls shut off the view like immense cur- 
tains, This creates a constant state of un- 
known—a thirst, a lust. When you can't. 
see where yov're going, every step be- 
comes an adventure. 

The canyon gradually begins to 
squeeze in. Another headwall appears. 
Again we pass into the iris. It is tighter 
than before. If we spread our arms we 
can touch both sides. Just a crack of sky 
above. The walls are closer so the water 
is deeper. When it leaps up and bites our 
nuts, we back off into a side cove and 
haul our dry suits out of our packs. 

We brought them just for this. In sum- 
mer you might not need a dry suit for 
canyoneering, but in spring you could 
dic from hypothermia without onc. 

Dry suits are frog skins. They have 
rubber gaskets at the ankles, wrists and 
neck designed to keep cold water out 
and warm air in. They are warmer than 
wet suits—wet suits allow water in, next 
to your skin, which is then warmed by 
your body. For canyoneering, the best 
dry suits are those made with tough syn- 
thetic shells—you're likely to be drag- 
ging yourself across rocks. 

Hypothermia is a deadly drop in body 
core temperature. First you start to shiv- 
er uncontrollably. Muscles become stiff. 
Your hands and feet become painful, 
then you lose the use of them. Your 
speech begins to slur and your heartbeat 
slows. Your mind gets stupid. You be- 
come uncoordinated and begin to stum- 
ble. If your core temperature (98.6°F) 
drops eight degrees, you'll no longer be 
able to walk—another eight degrees and 
you're dead. Submerged in extremely 
cold water without a wet suit or a dry 
suit, you can die in a matter of minutes. 

We zip each other inside our dry suits 
and wade back into the current, floating 
our packs ahead of us. We pass between 
two smooth lips of stone and enter a 
vaulted slit so narrow our shoulders 
touch either wall. Water runs between 
our legs. The walls are sinuous and slip- 
pery. With each step the orifice enfolds 
us, dosing over and behind us. 


We glide deeper. The water rises. 
Above the thighs. Above the crotch. 
Above the waist. I sink to my chest and 
begin to swim. 

Тат swimming in the fluid of earth in 
a fold of stone. The walls bend and curve 
so wildly above me that the sky is gone. 1 
am inside the flesh of stone. 

I swim through one chamber, into the 
next, into the next, into the last: awomb. 
A waterfall spills down above me from a 
hole in the ceiling. I can make out just a 
sliver of sky. I leave my pack and move 
forward, into the cascade. 

You cannot canyoneer if you cannot 
climb. You must have balance, and agili- 
ty and strength. You must also believe 
that nothing is insurmountable. 

Right arm and right leg against one 
wall, left arm and left leg against the oth- 
er. It is a classic canyonecring position. 
I lift myself out of the water and climb 
straight up the waterfall, pushing 
against the skin of the chamber. Twenty 
feet above the pool I pass through the 
hole and exit into the next level of the 
canyon, stunned and jubilant. 

I stand on the edge and look over the 
waterfall, down into the hole. Mike is 
grinning up at me, his red hair plastered 
across his face. 

We can't get the packs up through the 
falls, so Mike floats them back down the 
channel. 1 walk above until we find a 
spot where we can shuttle them up. Mike 
turns around and swims back. At the wa- 
terfall he howls with delight, then skill- 
fully chimneys ир. 

“Jesus Ann, that was great!” He is 
trembling. “If only the whole canyon 
could be like that. It was, was- > 

"Primal." 


We leave the dry suits on. Raining 
steady now, occasional waves of sleet. 

We eat lunch, our hands stiff from the 
cold. Candy and smashed bananas. No 
three-buck energy bars. They're a con. 
"They won't make you a better athlete. 
Mike likes M&M's. 1 like Butterfingers. 

We shoulder our packs and move on. 

Always the walls rise above us. We pass 
between black-streaked cliffs and hoo- 
doo galleries. Through ventricles and 
veins. Through lost gardens with downy 
cottonwoods and rock-cupped purple 
flowers. Over sand—black, red, white, 
green, blue. Over stone that is scalloped 
as sharp as waves or as smooth as a 
cat's back. 

Late in the afternoon we reach anoth- 
er bisected headwall. The water beyond 
is running harder and deeper now. It 
has changed color. Deeper brown, al- 
most black. An ominous sign. The 
canyon is flooding. Still, into the aper- 
ture. The walls sandwich us, the water 
becomes deep and again we must swim. 
It is a dark channel with dark, wet walls 
pushing in against our shoulders. 

My pack becomes wedged in a cave be- 


hind an eddy, and I try to pull it loose. 
Suddenly I'm shouting. But nothing will 
come out. My whole body tenses. The 
shock is so great it cuts away my breath. 
"What's wrong?" 
“Zipper burst!” 

My dry suit is filling with icy water. I 
abandon my pack and begin to slam my- 
self forward, my arms whirling in short 
choppy strokes, my legs frog-kicking vio- 
ently. In seconds I weigh 300 pounds. 

I can feel the temperature of my body 
plunging. 1 know what is happening but 
I cannot climb the walls around me. All 1 
can do is swim. Swim. 

My movements become jerky, like а 
puppets. My hands and feet turn to 
wood. I must get out of the water. 

My mouth begins to scal. My jaws lock 
I must get out of the water. 

At a small narrowing where the chan- 
nel bends, I pull myself out of the cur- 
rent, wedging my body between the 
gelid walls. A hundred pounds of water 
spills out of my dry suit. I can do nothing 
about the legs. They are ballooned full of 
water. I move upward by suspending 
myself in the vault in a jumping-jack po- 
sition. Left hand and left foot against left 
wall, right hand and right foot against 
right wall. One limb at a time. One hand, 
one foot, one hand, one foot. My fingers 
and toes cannot feel the stone. 

Slowly I ascend, I reach the top of the 
slit shivering badly. 

Once again we pulley up the packs. 
Then Mike swims the channel gracefully 
and ascends the waterfall effortlessly. 1 
am waiting for him above the throat of 
stone, trying to control my shivering. 

“You all right?” 

I nod. 

“Your lips are blue. Sure you're all 
right?" 

1 nod again. If I try to speak he will 
hear my teeth rattle. 

Looking back, after it is all over and 
you have survived, you can recognize 
the point at which you should have 
turned arourd. Problem is, that is pre- 
cisely the point at which the real adven- 
ture begins. 


We have to do the whole canyon to get 
out. We know we are close. We quicken 
our pace. Become efficient. Focused. We 
pass swiftly through corridor after corri- 
dor, jogging on the rock beside the river. 
We leap between boulders and negotiate 
steep slabs without thinking. 

Another headwall. 

Another narrow cavity. 

Climb up through one waterfall, up a 
spiral chute and into a small shaft. 

“Shit!” 

We are at the bottom of a well. The 
walls are slick with moss. The well is 
filling with dark water. 

“Dead end! Back. Back!" 

We are making decisions instantly. 
Operating on automatic. On experience. 


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We climb back down to the first water- 
fall and traverse sideways onto a ledge 
that rises up the right-hand wall. We can 
see the rim of the canyon. We are almost 
out. Only 30 feet. 

Mike uncoils the ropes. I tie in and be- 
gin moving up the dif, but the walls are 
too soft and slippery. All the rain has 
turned the rock to mud. I try kicking the 
toes of my boots into the face, but they 
drip back out. Every handhold 1 grab 
comes away in my palm. I cannot keep 
my balance. 

“Mike, this won't go!" 

“We have to turn back. Find another 


climb while he sets up a rappel. 
It is twilight. We rap back into the inner 
gorge where we had been just minutes 
before. It is a 50-foot drop straight into 
black water. 

Coil the rope. Sling it over a shoulder. 
Go. Move. Downstream. Down canyon. 
As fast as we can 

"The water is growing deeper by the 
minute. The canyon is flooding. Í dis- 
cover a side canyon with a waterfall and 
climb halfway up. "We'll need the 
ropes." 

^We don't have time!" Mike says. 

"The rain is pouring. We are running. 
Farther back down the canyon we search 
for a plausible exit. 

From a short straightaway we think we 
see a weakness in the canyon wall. A 


Tis 4 sacred 
journey. A magical 
experience A spiritual 
go joa ss That's what 
love 15. 


climbable gash. When we reach the base 
of the cliff we don't stop to горе up. We 
start climbing. 

Water is running off the walls every- 
where. In the gloaming it looks as if 
all the water in the world is flooding 
into the canyon. The great deluge. The 
preacher was right. 

Weare scaling a steep gully, hand over 
hand. Liquid streams down over rocks 
and plants and roots, into our sleeves 
and our mouths and down our necks. 
We yank ourselves up through the mud 
and cant see a thing and can't stop and 
can't think of anything but ascend, 
ascend, ascend. 

1 choose the wrong line. I am stuck 
halfway up the wall. The canyon rim is a 
hundred feet above me, the raging 
brown river as many feet below. 1 must 
turn around. I carefully climb back 
down to the ledge Mike is standing on. 

Now we are dimbing side by side. In 
the rain, up the wall, sweating and freez- 
ing. We use the same holds. Stand on the 
same blocks. Up through an ugly chim- 
ney, straight on through a tree burned 
by lightning, out over a broken over- 
hang. We are rising out of the canyon. 
Suddenly we know we will get out. 

Twenty feet from the top we are rim- 
rocked, stymied by a smooth band of fea- 
tureless stone. It is pitch-dark now. Mike 
is below me, clinging to the wall. The 
canyon yawns under my heels. Two hun- 
dred feet of empty space. 


Are yen Saying 
T should return all 
the lingerie 1 

yust bought? 


I skin off my pack and throw the rope 
over my shoulder. It is impossible to 
climb straight up. 1 move sideways. My 
feet tiptoe along one ledge, my hands 
fiercely 

Tam E leways, sticking to 
the pouring wall. It is as if 1 had climbed 
over a balcony on the 20th floor. 1 find a 
wide vertical crack, put both hands in- 
side and pull myself up. The handholds 
are slick. I have to regrip every few sec- 
onds. 1 twist the toes of ny boots into the 
seam. I think they are solid, but when I 
put weight on them, they pop out. My 
body swings out above the abyss. 

I understand. It is simple. I am 200 
feet in the air in the dark in a rainstorm, 
fastened to the canyon wall only by the 
strength of my fingers. I can even see 
myself. As if my eyes were inside a small 
d arcing through the rain above the 
roaring canyon, watching me, knowing I 
can't fly. 

1 get my feet to stick. Rest. Close my 
eyes. Control my heart. 

I reach for a knob on the edge and it 
breaks away. I find another. It holds. My 
feet hold 

Carefully, ever so carefully, I pull up. 
Suddenly 1 pull over the top. Lam out of 
the gorge. 

‘The rain has turned to snow. I ue 
the rope to the trunk of a juniper. The 
arms of the juniper reach out over 
the rim, into space, catching snowflakes 
like falling stars. 

1 drop down the rope. Mike ties on my 
pack and then his, and I haul them both 
up. I throw the rope back down and 
Mike ties in. 

Then we are both on top, standing in 
the blackness on the lip of the abyss, es- 
caped. Escaped from our upside-down 
mountain. 


It takes another two days to get out of 
cavern country. Plugging through gum- 
bo. Using muddy ropes to scale seeping 
mesas. Rappelling into unknown can- 
yons. Fording swollen streams. 

Ahhh, the truck. Never so welcome a 
sight. Turn the heat on full blast. Turn 
io on full blast. 
ight on the highway north of 
nksville. The engine hums to itself 
like an old man. No need to drive fast. 

"We could go all night." 

Mike's eyes are closed 

"Do like we used to do. Throw the 
bags out alongside the road." 

We both crack up. 

We find a strip motel back in Green 
River. Flat roof, blinking neon sign. All 
the doors painted bright turquoise. 

Showers so hot that steam curls along 
the ceiling. Each in our own big, sway- 
backed bed, sinking into the canyon of 
sleep watching an old Western about the 
adventures of two cowboys. 


GREAT BALLS 


(continued from page 74) 
sphincter relaxes, your breathing re- 
sumes and you basically feel nothing as 
the doctor makes a centimeter-long inci- 
sion in your scrotum, then cuts and re- 
moves a section of your numb vas defer- 
ens. After cauterizing the open ends in a 
cloud of acrid white smoke, the doctor 
also ties them off as a safety measure, 
kind of like a belt and suspenders. (De- 
spite this overkill, it is remotely possible 
for your testicles to later undergo a 
spontaneous formation of new vasa def- 
erentia, which shows just how deter- 
mined those little guppies can be.) Final- 
ly the doc stitches up your scrotum and 
then repeats the whole thing on the oth- 
er side with another kick in the nuts. If 
you think the second shot will be less 
painful than the first, I'm sorry to say 
that you're going to be very sorely 
disappointed. 

Despite all this, Harry and I conceded 
afterward that none of it was as bad as 
our paranoid fears. An hour after we ar- 
rived, we were laughing our way out of 
the clinic when Chopp, in a another 
burst of levity, told us: “Hurry back, the 
next one is free.” Yeah, well if there is a 
next time, pal, I damn sure won't sober 
up first. 

Not eager to have any rambunctious 
children bouncing on our laps, Harry 
aud I tuuk a cab to Austin’s top-shelf ho- 
tel, where we began to knock back their 
top-shelf marg: s—dollar for dollar, 
still the finest painkiller known to man 
or pharmacist. After three or four with 
no salt, we limped to our rooms. Every 
time we felt the slightest twinge of 
pain—which was pretty damn often—we 
ordered a couple more margaritas. At 
some point, the bartenders must have 
decided all that ice and lime juice were 
going to kill us, because they finally sent 
up just a bottle of tequila, which we 
plowed into like, well, like two guys who 
had just had their nuts set on fire. 


The next morning Harry barged into 
my room. He was apparently suffering 
no ill effects from either the vasectomy 
or the tequila and scemed ready to hit 
the gym. When it became clear that I 
could hardly walk, much less conquer 
the Stair Master, Harry had a snappy ex- 
planation for his more speedy recovery. 

"I think we can attribute the differ- 
ence,” he said, “to the fact that you had 
the surgery done, and I did not.” 

Now that would have been a practical 
joke to remember 

Once on my feet, 1 felt a little better. 
We made it till noon before a distinct rise 
below-the-waist throbbing had us hus- 
tling for the nearest restaurant whose 
name started with either “El” or "La" for 
some Tex-Mex and morc recreational 
painkillers. It was not until the next 


evening that we found an anesthetic su- 
perior to frozen margaritas, and that was 
courtesy of Willie Nelson on his bus pri- 
or to a concert. Willie's solution, unfor- 
tunately, is a prescription that neither 
the АМА nor the DEA seem willing to 
write for any of us. 

On day three, when 1 finally strolled 
bowlegged to the airport gate to see 
Harry onto the plane back to sitcom 
land, he had arrived at a new Zen-like 
perspective of our experience. “Sure, we 
had our nuts sliced and diced like a ripe 
tomato, and we've been limping all over 
town,” he told me philosophically, “but 
on the other hand: We're sterile.” 

So having killed two stones for one 
bird, as we finally defined the proce- 
dure, I went to my office and tried to get 
back to work. Somehow, between the 
hangover and the throbbing balls, I 
found it rather hard to concentrate and 
soon adjourned for yet another mecting 
with my friendly neighborhood bar- 
tender. A couple of days later I was still 
at it, knocking back the black and tans at 
a local brew pub and telling the last of 
my pitiful dick jokes. 

“The night before the vasectomy,” 1 
explained to the bartender, "I told my 
wife she could kiss my vas deferens 
goodbye. In fact, I insisted upon it." 

OF course, I’m a big enough boy to 
know that, in a good marriage, there's 
no insisting on much of anything. But 
my wife, bless her sweet, beautiful heart, 
is still offering to honor our original 
Fourth of July agreement. And it's a 
darn good thing, because I've had to 
abandon the argument that a blow job 
is the finest form of birth control yet 
invented. 

According to Chopp, I'll be safely 
shooting blanks after 20 or 30 more ejac- 
ulations, and my wife and I are counting 
the days (and nights) in a most enjoyable 
fashion until that first sperm check 

In retrospect, I realize that the pur- 
pose of the dick jokes and the booze was 
not only to distract myself from the 
physical discomfort but also to come to 
grips with the fact that I'll never have a 
son. Yes, 1 know I embarked on this mis- 
sion with exactly that purpose in mind. 

Vo, I am not haunted by second 
thoughts and deep regrets. But, on the 
first couple of nights back home, I did 
зийег from an ennui similar to my wife's 
depression following the birth of our 
children. 

Ah, but there is a happy ending. It 
comes to me over and over with the dai- 
ly realization that now my wife seems to 
love me more than ever, and that, boy or 
no boy, my two little girls are already my 
dreams come true in a fashion much 
grander than I ever could have imag- 
ined. And what the fuck, if we change 
our minds, we can always adopt. 


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PLAYBOY 


culture. Newscaster Phyllis George be- 
came famous by asking an innocent man 
to hug the woman who had falsely ac- 
cused him of rape, a charge that resulted 
in his lengthy imprisonment in a state 
penal institution, where rapists do not 
usually get the red-carpet treatment. So 
your kiddie friends should have no trou- 
ble at all with this. Maybe we could get 
that Al Franken guy from Saturday Night 
Live to supervise the hug. It could be the 
most heartwarming event since Tiny 
Tim married Miss Vicki on The Tonight 
Show. Let me know what you think. 


THE BUDDY FILM 


How did Dustin Hoffman jump-start a 
flagging career? He made a buddy film 
with Tom Cruise. How did Paul New- 
man jump-start a flagging career? He 
made a buddy film vith Tom Cruise. 
How did Christian Slater jump-start a 
flagging career? He made a buddy film 
with Tom Cruise. Mike, it’s time for the 
buddy film. Top Gun II? A tad implausi- 
ble, n'est-ce pas? Interview Wilh the Vampire 
IP Unwholesome undertones. What's 
our idea, then? Get this: A sequel to Rain 
Man tiled Rain Elephant Man. Here you 
get to play an incoherent, brain-dam- 
aged guy who also happens to be the 
weirdest-looking cocksucker anyone has 
ever seen. ‚ nothing personal, but 
it's the role you were born to play. 


THE VANITY FAIR COVER 


Talk about a shot in the arm: Remem- 
ber what that cover did for Jessica Lange 
last year? She appears in a sucky movie 
by a dead director that's been sitting in 
the can for years that does nothing at the 
box office, but Vanity Fair puts her on the 
cover the one month that Demi Moore 
isn’t available and she cops an Oscar. 
Mike, 1 don't need to tell you what a VF 
cover could mean. It sold tickets for Big 
Jack in Wolf. It turned Sandra Bullock 
into America's sweetheart—despite that 
nose. It made Demi a household name. 
True, the Keanu cover didn't sell many 
tickets to Johnny Mnemonic, and being on 
the cover didn't do much for Andie Mac- 
Dowell's career, but with those teeth, 
what the fuck could? 

Mike, I want to be up front about what 
kind of cover we're talking. We're talk- 
ing buff. We're talking megabulf. You're 
gonna strip down just like Demi did, on- 
ly you're gonna show everything. Every- 
thing. That way, every parent in America 
can see that you don't have the incrimi- 
nating splotches on your weenie that 
could result in your being incarcerated 

140 in a state penal facility, where child mo- 


lesters do not usually get the red-carpet 
treatment. This is your one, perhaps 
your only and probably your last oppor- 
tunity to prove that you've been the vic- 
tim of a massive shakedown operation, 
that there are no telltale blemishes on 
your cock, that the whole thing is a crock 
of shit. It is a crock of shit, right, Mike? 
Right, Mike? Only joking. 


THESMELL OF THE GREASEPAINT, 
THE ROAR OF THE CROWD. 


Obviously, if you do have some incrim- 
inating splotches on your genitalia, the 
Vanity Fair cover goes right out the win- 
Чом. We could do a rear view, à la Stal- 
lone or Jim Carrcy, but let's face facts, 
M.J., does anyone really want to look at 

? Just teasing. Anyway, if 
a nonstarter, we can al- 
ways resort to another tried-and-true 
showbiz ruse: the triumphant run on 
Broadway. This will get you close to the 
people, bring you back down to earth, 
restore you to the normal three dimen- 
sions. If you get my drift. 

What kind of show do we have in 
mind? Obviously, a star of your lumi- 
nous magnitude is too big to do one of 
those Brooke Shields-Jon Secada turns 
in Grease. But many other options re- 
main. Like, how about Jean Valjean—the 
unfortunate victim of a ludicrous miscar- 
riage of justice in Les Miserables—a good, 
trusting, loving man who spends 19 
years asa galley slave for stealing a god- 
damned croissant just so he could feed 
his children, and who is then persecuted 
for the rest of his life by a megalomani 
cal police force run by vindictive white 
people? Not unlike a pop star who 
spends [9 months being persecuted by a 
megalomaniacal police force run by vin- 
dictive white people just because he tried 
to make some children happy. We could 
even change the villain's name from In- 
spector Javert to Inspector Fuhrman. 
Can you picture the billboards, Mikey? 
You, clutching a loaf of bread, high 
above the Great White Way. It Е 
tears to my eyes just to think of it. 

You might consider going upmarker 
with Shakespeare in the Park. Who 
would make a better Othello than Mi- 
chael Jackson? The Moor the Merrier! 
Especially if we got Liz Taylor to play 
Cleopatra and Brooke Shields to play 
Ophelia. Then, when you held up old 
Yorick's bones, everyone in the audience 
would think they belonged to the Ele- 
phant Man. It would show your playful, 
puckish side. I think you should consi 
er it, Michael. I really think you should. 


THE TRAVELING BLACK WILBURYS 


Put five pathetic old losers onstage 
one after the other and what do you get? 
"The Republican National Convention. 
But put five pathetic old losers onstage 
all at once and what do you get? Fucking 
magic. If the Traveling Wilburys could 
reignite Dylan's career and Roy Orbi- 
son's career and George Harrison's ca- 
reer after 20 years of sucky records, 
think what the concept could do for you. 

Now, where are we going to find four 
pathetic old losers to fill the stage with 
you? Hey, Mikey, do the names Jer- 
maine, Tito, La Toya and Marlon mean 
anything to you? Only joking. Obviously, 
we don't want anyone as lame as La Toya 
in the band. No, what we have in mind is 
four artists who used to be legitimate 
stars, who crashed and burned and who 
are now attempting a comeback under 
the aegis of the Traveling Black Wilburys. 
My suggestions? Stevie Wonder on key- 
board. Rick James on bass. Sly Stone on 
guitar. Sheila E. on drums. Or maybe we 
could get Lionel Richie, the black Elton 
John, in there somewhere. And you 
know how the Wilburys had those ho- 
key pseudonyms—Lucky and Lefty and 
Spike? You guys could go by names like 
Rufus and Otis and Kingfish and 
Sportin’ Life. The public will love it. It'll 
show your human, puckish side. 


EMBRACE THE LIZARD 


It's an extravagant proposal, perhaps 
even a demeaning proposal, but the one 
sure way to show what a man you are is 
to marry Liz. You know that line about 
boldly daring to go where few men have 
gone before? You would be boldly dar- 
ing to go where every man has gone be- 
fore. The way the American public will 
look at it, no one capable of marrying a 
guy named Larry Fortensky could possi- 
bly marry a child molester. The Ameri- 
can public is funny that way. 

"Those, M.J., are our proposals. I know 
some of them seem a bit offbeat, but 
then again, consider the client. Should 
you find these stratagems unsatisfactory, 
all we can suggest is what we suggest- 
ed to Jim Morrison 25 years ago: Pull a 
Fere Lachaise. Fake your own death, go 
completely underground, get yourself 
buried in an obscure part of a depress- 
ing old French cemetery and then pay 
some pcasant to spray-paint THIS way TO 
JACKSON'S GRAVE On the front gates every 
morning for the next 50 years while you 
collect royalties from your back catalog. 
Bur I don't think you want to do that, 
Mikey. I don't think your career is that 
far down the toilet. Though I am re- 
minded of a little joke 1 heard last week: 

How are Michael Jackson and Kmart 
alike? Both have boys’ pants half off. 

Cute gag, huh, Mikey? Only joking. 

Best wishes, 
Slade Gruber 


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142 


COURTNEY LOVE (continued from page 110) 


“I grew up with hippies and feminists. I thought ‘Ms.’ 
had killed all the sexism and 1 could be president." 


Frances Bean. "No man could have done 
to me what Lynn did to me," she said. 
With little provocation, she would pull 
out the offending piece and go over it 
line by line, compulsively tracing over 
sentences for loopholes like a manic at- 
torney appealing a death-penalty sen- 
tence. (Courtney admitted to Jim DeRo- 
gatis in the Chicago Sun-Times in May 
1995 that she did take heroin when she 
was pregnant, “in the very beginning of 
my pregnancy. Otherwise I could have 
sued the hell out ofthem.”) Next up was 
Susan Faludi's Backlash: The Undeclared 
Ийт Against American Women. Out would 
come the book for much of 1993, with 
highlighted references to how strong 
women—her favorite example, of 
course, was herself—are always written 
off as evil freaks. "Women are total fail- 
ures at unifying,” she said. "I think 
women tend to unload on other women. 
Jealousy among women is hard to de- 
fine, admit or discuss. 1 grew up with 
hippies and feminists and 30-something 
people. I thought that Ms. had killed all 
the sexism in the world and I could be 
the president. 1£ I didn't have that up- 
bringing I wouldn't be strong." 


Her father is Hank Harrison, author 
of The Dead: A Social History of the Haight- 


Ashbury Experience. Love has rarely 
minced words about him: "He makes his 
living as a parasite off the Grateful 
Dead," she said. "He scams all these 
Deadheads who worship him because 
they think he is close to the Dead." In 
fact, the Dead's Phil Lesh is her godfa- 
ther. Linda Carroll, her mother, earned 
some renown as the psychologist of 
Katherine Anne Power, a member of the 
Weather Underground who resurfaced 
in 1993 to face old murder charges. 
Courtney's parents broke up when she 
was a little girl. She and her mom moved 
to New Zealand. Her mom lived in a 
commune and Courtney was sent to a 
boarding school. Another boarding 
school in England followed and by the 
time she was 12 she was sent back to Eu- 
gene, Oregon to live with her mother's 
therapist. Her teenage years were even 
more scrambled, with stints in juvenile 
ties—she had been busted for 
shoplifüng—and foster homes. Living 
off a $1000-a-month trust fund, she 
popped up in Liverpool in the en- 
tourage of Julian Cope's Teardrop Ex- 
plodes. (After Love had taken up with 
Cobain, Cope took out an ad in the 
British press saying: "Free us from Nan- 
cy Spungen-fixated heroin A-holes who 
cling to our greatest rock groups and 
suck out their brains." Love claims not to 


"There's no smoking anywhere in the building, but on Fridays 
you can come to work in drag.” 


understand what motivated Cope to 
publish such vitriol.) Back in Oregon at 
the age of 18, she met Kat Bjelland. 

Kat would serve alternately as Court- 
ney's best friend, prime adversary, artis- 
tic inspiration and competitor. As the 
leader of Babes in Toyland. Kat helped 
germinate the entire girl grunge scene, 
which includes bands such as L7, the 
Breeders, Bratmobile and 7 Year Bitch. 

"Kat was a hot high school babe, 
Courtney said. "The fair-haired girl 
head cheerleader, editor-of-the-year- 
book type." Both had fantasized about a 
virtually unattainable female dream: to 
be in a rock band. 

As soon as they were able, they bolted 
10 the cavernous punk clubs of San Fran- 
cisco. Together with their pal Jennifer 
Finch (later of L7), they soaked up the 
experience. "We were all known as 
groupies, notorious scenesters before we 
ever had bands," Courtney said. A tran- 
scendent moment came when the three- 
some went to see an all-girl punk band. 
The band came on and was immediately 
heckled by a group of men in the audi- 
ence shouting, “You're too ugly to be in a 
rock band!" 

Jennifer, Courtney and Kat vere ap- 
palled. The only answer, they decided, 
was to start their own punk band. They 
called it Sugar Baby Doll, but Courtney 
and Kat had a temporary feud. "Kat 
kicked me out of the band," says Love. 
"It was the fu st of du ee bands she kicked. 
me out o£." 

In San Francisco, Courtney sang for a 
while in a band that would become Faith 
No More. She then had a brief gig with 
Social Distortion. At one point, she tried 
acting, and landed a small role as Nancy 
Spungen's best friend in Alex Cox’ clas- 
sic Sid and Nancy. “Now 1 see those four 
little scenes and I say, What a cute me,” 
she told me. She also got the lead in Cox’ 
1987 film Straight to Hell. The film 
bombed and went straight to video. 

In 1988 Kat and Courtney moved to 
Minneapolis, where the underground 
scene had already produced such bands 
as the Replacements, Húsker Ой and 
Soul Asylum. The two began to mirror 
each other. Their role model was Edie 
Sedgwick, the Andy Warhol party-girl 
superstar. They bleached their hair and 
began wearing baby-doll dresses found 
at Minneapolis rummage sales. For 
Courtney, it was the latest in a new seri 
of obsessions with such women as Car- 
roll Baker's kiddie sexpot in Baby Doll. 

They were determined to try a band 
again. Kat lined up Lori Barbero to play 
drums in the neonatal Babes in Toyland. 
Courtney assumed she'd be involved 
somehow. However, Bjelland decided 
she didn't want her best friend in the 
band. "Courtney practiced with Babes in 
‘Toyland only once, and it sucked," Bjel- 
land said. "After that, it was like "Bye, 


Love's version has her chastising 


Bjelland about not showing up for re- 
hearsals. “I was willing to give up my in- 
ual pursuits for a band. I thought a 
unified feminine force could be more 
powerful than me. And 1 was willing to 
take a backseat—to play bass and do 
backup vocals—when Kat decided I was 
an asshole." In recent years, their rela- 
tionship has deteriorated; Kat will no 
longer talk about Courtney. 

Courtney was not having any luck in 
her personal life, either. Briefly, she was 
married. She also had an abortion. “I 
did a really bad girl thing. I told some- 
body that I knew wasn't the father that 
id hit up the poor son ofa bitch 


According to Courtney's time line, she 
made a brief stop in Alaska to strip be- 
cause, she said, "I didn't know what to 
do. I didn't know how to work then. And 
the only stripping jobs 1 could get 
weren't good ones because I was fat." 
"Then it was on to Los Angeles and an- 
other stripping job, where she asked 
herself the questions, " "Why was I always 
the one who sat in on other people's re- 
hearsals? Why was I not allowed to play 
guitar? 1 decided I would not covet 
what boys have, I'd create it myself." 

In late 1989 she formed Hole. She 
lost weight, had her nose cropped and 
worked on her guitar playing. By 1991, 
when she ran into Kurt Cobain at Los 
Angeles’ Palladium, she was ready. The 
two had met in Portland in 1989 (“1 
thought she looked like Nancy Spun- 
gen," Kurt told author Michael Azerrad 
in Come As You Are). Now, they began 
their courtship when Courtney punched 
Kurt in the stomach (and Kurt punched 
her back). Ironically, for people who lat- 
er claimed Courtney clung to Kurt as 
her meal ticket, her band's first album, 
Pretty on the Inside, was outselling his 
(Bleach) two to one at the time they start- 
ed dating. The two w ied in Feb- 
ruary 1992 in Hawa Courtney 
wearing a dress that Frances Farmer 
once wore. By the time Love and Cobain 
married, Nirvana had become a huge, if 
unanticipated, success. 

As the two battled their way around 
the world, rumors of their heroin use 
continued. Courtney had no illusions 
about the drug. "I realized that I can't 
do a constructive thing with my life on 
any level if I'm fucked up on heroin," 
she told me. 

“I could never find solace in alcohol," 
she said. "I drink like the most advanced 
alcoholic, five drinks just like that so I 
can go onstage. Other than that, I never 
drink." 

She said Cobain was sick from heroin 
withdrawal ing hospital 


and bao DAE 
іп a Rome hotel. A month later ће suc- 
ceeded with a shotgun, in his Seattle 
home, alone. 


Courtney's record came out the Tues- 
day after Cobain's death and sold out in 
at least one Seattle record store. She 
gave away Cobain's T-shirt: a Seattle 
park. Ata vigil held for Cobain, a tape of 
Love's voice was played on which Love 
demanded that the crowd call her late 
husband "an asshole." On the same tape 
Courtney is heard reciting parts of 
Cobain's suicide note while dramatically 
interjecting her responses to what he'd 
written. And she felt up to talking with 
Tabitha Soren on MTV the day after 
Cobain's suicide, and chatted about his 
death. Indeed, Courtney courted media 
attention for herself and her record 
hesitatingly after the news of Cobain's 
demise broke. One of her initial public 
responses to her husband's death was to 
mention that she had a new album com- 
ing out that week called Live Through 
This. "How's that for sick?" she asked. To 
some, her actions appeared crass or self- 
serving; others admired her for her 
resilience. 

Apparently, Courtney thinks her opin- 
ionalone is not influential enough. Since 
his death she has unabashedly invoked 
Cobain's name in public. If she wants the 
public to like someone she likes, she tells 
us they have Kurt's imprimatur. And if 
she behaves rudely toward a person, 
that's OK because it would have made 
Kurt happy. 

She also speaks often about Cobain’s 
problems, some of which he probably 
would have preferred remain private. 

° 


Two months after her husband's 
death, Love strolled across the lobby of 
West Hollywood's Mondrian Hotel. 
Barefoot, wearing a yellow dress, she 
was perhaps the most reviled woman in 
rock and roll, the interloper blamed for 
Kurt Cobain's carly exit in April. Edging 
her way toward the door, she was greet- 
ed by the stares of music industry insid- 
ers assembled for the MTV Movie 
Awards. The strain of her husband's 
death was on her face and in her voice. 
She no longer possessed the optimism of 
a punk rock Doris Day. "I'm a survivor," 
she said disconsolately. "At least that's 
what everybody tells me. 

Baring bruised legs and wearing 
smeared makeup, she sat on a cab that 
was to take her a block up the street to 
the Chateau Marmont. Rumors persist- 
ed in the few months after Cobain's sui- 
cide that she was on hard drugs; it didn't 
help when Hole's bassist ten Pfaff 
dicd in June 1994 of an apparent heroin 
overdosc. 

Courtney examined her knee, which 
was outlined in stitches. For years she'd 
reveled in the venality of music business 
p. sharing her latest ti 
hearsay and innuendo about other rock- 
ers with the passion of a yenta. Now she 
had no doubts as to what was being said 
about her. She explained, "1 fell down is 


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all." Then, tilting her head in the direc- 
tion of the record people in the lobby: 
“But we know what they'd say about it 

The charge against her was brutal: 
She had turned Cobain against his band 
Nirvana, enmeshed him deeper їп drugs 
and driven him further from his friends. 
Everybody was willing to believe it was 
all her fault. “I wish that I'd been as 
much of a slut as Гуе been told I am or 
she had informed me carlier. 

For a woman who had always man- 
aged to surround herself with theatrical 
personalities, Courtney seemed utterly 
alone. When she spoke of returning to 
the hotel where Frances and her nanny 
waited, she seemed more tender and 
than I had ever heard her. Court- 
deathwatch would continue for 


PLAYBOY 


But with the commercial success of 
Live Through This at the end of 1994, the 
Courtney of old resurfaced. The wid- 
ow got involved with unseeming haste 
with Trent Reznor of Nine Inch Nails 
(though Reznor denies it). After they 
had a falling out, she said Reznor's band 
should be renamed Three Inch Nails. A 
tabloid also pictured Love in a bed, 
Kissing the Lemonheads' Evan Dando 
(whom Cobain had repeatedly dissed 
during Nirvana's final European tour). 

In November, she was seen running 
barefoot down Sunset Boulevard, chas- 
ing indie singer Mary Lou Lord, who 
was once linked romantically with 
Cobain. Rumors along the New York 
junkie grapevine had it that she was back 
on hard drugs. Then, in January, she 
was threatened with arrest on a Qantas 
airplane in Australia for placing her feet 
on the wall of the cabin. Courtney re- 
sponded, “Go the fuck ahead and arrest 
me.” They did. 


Then things changed. For its June 
1995 issue Кашу Fair made good for sul- 
lying her reputation with a cover shot 
that showed her adorned with angel 
wings. The generous VF article charac- 
terized her as a caring, if unconvention- 
al, mom. Her breakout from punk ter- 
ror was almost complete; acting roles 
were in the offing and she was all over 
the people page of most major dailies. 
Lollapalooza, which started for her as a 
triumph of publicity, ended as a victo- 
ry for her music. There were signs in 
her magnificent stage performances that 
she might finally have control of her 
demons, 


' knives will be out for 
s next album. Without Cobain 
around to serve as Courtney's mentor, 
goes the scuttlebutt, her next effort can 
only sufler. It doesn't have a release date, 
but Courtney tentatively titled 
Celebrity Skin, named after the magazine 
that publishes any nude shots of celeb 
144 ties it can find. It was an apt name, she 


told an interviewer, because "I've 
touched so much of it.” 

Yet it may not even matter if the album 
bombs. Her latest obsession is Holly- 
wood, where her thirst for attention has 
left her old rock friends shaking their 
heads. Her husband's former band- 
mate Dave Grohl of Foo Fighters refuses 
to talk about Courtney. However, he told 
Rolling Stone that seeing her acting like a 
rock star is “the moment Гуе been 
dreading." Not naming names, on Foo 
Fighters' debut album Grohl sings, 
“How could it be/I'm the only one who 
sees your rehearsed insanity?" Thurston 
Moore of Sonic Youth bad-mouthed her 
constantly online. "Everyone is disgust- 
ed and totally grossed out," he wrote af- 
ter she punched Hanna. And he was 
equally turned off by her "useless rock 
star bullshit" during Lollapalooza. In 
her Spin apologia, however, Courtney 
would have us believe that Moore was 
exaggerating and that she and Sonic 
Youth get on swimmingly. 

Courtney now lives in the world of in- 
ternational celebrity, her life propelled 
by limousines and gossip. She follows up 
each new friendship with a confidential- 
ity agreement. She pals around with 
Danny DeVito and cavorts at Oscar par- 
ties in Los Angeles with her new bad-girl 
best friend, actress Amanda de Cadenet. 
Shortly after her appearance at the Os- 
cars, she entered into negotiations to do 
an intervicw with Barbara Walters. 

Reports on her progress will arrive 
this year with the release of Feeling Min- 
nesola, in which she plays a waitress op- 
posite Keanu Reeves. Though o 
mors had her falling asleep sus 
at the most inopportune times, she has 
remained on the wish lists of various 
Hollywood directors, including Quentin 
Tarantino and Oliver Stone. Recently, 
she edged out Patricia Arquette and Mi- 
ra Sorvino in screen tests for an upcom- 
ing movie on Hustler publisher Larry 
Flynt. (She seems to be a lock for the 
part of Flynt's wife Althea.) “She's going 
to act, and she wants to blend with main- 
stream America,” says a friend. “That's 
why she's now hanging out with people 
acceptable to mainstream America, like 
Brad Pit. She wants to be accepted by all 
sectors of American society.” 

The aura of craziness still hovers 
around her. Among the weirdest devel- 
opments has been the continuing inves- 

igation of Cobain's death by Tom Grant, 
a Los Angeles private detective. Grant 
had originally been hired by Courtney to 
find Kurt in the days before he died. He 
continued poking around after the re- 
ported suicide and eventually came up 
with the theory that Cobain was mur- 
dered and Courtney was involved. De- 
spite warnings from her lawyers that the 
media outlets who present his story will 
be sued, stories about Grant's murder 
theory made the covers of the British 


magazine Vox and the low-circulation 
U.S. publication Insight. 

While Grants notions of retirement 
speeches misread as suicide notes and 
Courtney-inspired hanky-panky sound 
dubious, his messages have found will- 
ing audiences of Courtney-haters on the 
radio, on the Internet and in zines. 
found Courtney to be extremely intelli- 
gent,” writes Grant. “She's also a psy- 
chopath, a pathological liar and an op- 
portunist who will use anyone and any 
situation to self-promote her ambitious 
goals of fame and fortune.” 

Grant's assessment is not a particular- 
ly novel character study. Those who have 
known her for years have always bridled 
at her ability to climb past, weave tales 
around and blow smoke through any- 
body who dared stop her progress. Hit- 
ting the pinnacle that only she ever 
thought she would achieve, she's turned 
old friends (and even her late husband, 
whom she had cremated) into ashes and 
new pals into springboards. 

Still, she seems willing to try for the 
right side. In September, she pleaded 
guilty in a Washington State courtroom 
to assaulting Kathleen Hanna, and her 
sentence of one year in jail was suspend- 
ed. In return, Love agreed to take 
lessons in controlling her rage. Courtney 
Love without her rage? Perhaps now she 
won't even need it. 

“Whatever you say about Courtney, 
you can also say the opposite.” says 
i "She's a walking Greek 
tragedy, and a comedy. She's horrible 
and great, inspiring and frightening, 
strong and weak. She's a role model— 
and everything you wouldn't want your 
child to be." 

Billy Corgan, leader of the Smashing 
Pumpkins, told Alternative Press that 
Courtney had a profound effec on his 
music. "If she had her act together," 
Corgan (a onetime lover) said, “she 
could obscure someone like Patti 
Smith— she has that much raw talent. In 
terms of intelligence, she's almost a ge- 
nius in an insane kind of way.” 

Courtney isn't as insane as she can 
seem. Indeed, Kurt's mom, Wendy 
O'Connor, can vouch for that. She told 
an Entertainment Weekly reporter, "One of 
the tabloids has her insane, sleeping with 
Kurt's ashes and her new man. Courtney 
is far from in: " But she knows when 
it up. “If someone thinks I'm in- 
Courtney says, “UH just fucking 
pour a beer on their head. I have guns 
and I punch. They would still think I 
asane, but they would think I was 
iolent and insane.” In her pre-Lolla- 
palooza days, Courtney used to gripe 
that rock was dominated by guys. Now 
that she's trying to go mass market, she 
seems to have had a change of heart 
The griping has stopped. She's ready for 


her close-up. 


RAPID TRANSIT. „ыш 


Once you've driven an aftermarket supercar, you may 


never be satisfi 


d with a standard model again. 


brake-pedal effort and lower fuel econo- 
my in exchange for blinding acceleration 
and a top speed that a decade ago could 
have won the Indianapolis 500. Their 
work, not surprisingly, doesn't come 
cheap. The Saleen Mustang begins at 
$43.000 and a Dinan 8501 BMW or 
RENN Tech Mercedes-Benz SL500 con- 
version costs an average of $60,0 
(That's $60,000 in addition to the ori 
nal purchase price of the car.) 

Aftermarket conversions begin with a 
car's chassis. It has to be enhanced in 
order to handle the increase in horse- 
power and torque that's to come. Big- 
ger brake rotors are added, and they're 
fitted with competition pads. Then the 
exhaust, intake and fucl-injection sys- 
tems are reworked. Aftermarket experts 
are able to increase an engine's displace- 
ment, raise its compression ratio and 
even substantially rewrite its computer 
programming. 

These aren't just bolt-on modifications 
or casual tweaks. Considerable experi- 
mentation is necessary, and extensive 
dynamometer tests and on-the-road tri- 


als are required. Special performance 
equipment often has to be custom fabri- 
cated and then tested. 

The resulting specialty car should be 
as smooth a performer as it was when it 
arrived from the factory—even though 
zero-to-60 times may be drastically al- 
tered and stopping distances may be 
shortened. Development work like this 
takes skill, time and money because you 
don't want a road rocket that will over- 
heat in traffic or refuse to idle at less 
than 2000 rpms. 

You will have to do a little homework 
to acquaint yourself with these specialty 
cars, Butonce you have had the pleasure 
of driving one, you may never be sat- 
isfied with a standard model again. 
Here's what flies in the really fast lane. 


CALLAWAY CAMARO C8 


Reeves Callaway is one of the most 
successful aftermarket builders of high- 
performance road cars in America. Cal- 
laway’s Old Lyme, Connecticut-based 
company has been bulding modified 
Corvettes since 1987. His extensive line 


of components and complete packages 
are also available for Impala $$ sedans 
and Camaros. 

If you want to turn your Z28 Camaro 
into a Super Natural СВ like the one pic- 
tured in this feature, all you have to do is 
ship your car to Callavay. In about five 
weeks, you'll get back a Camaro that 
morc closely resembles a Ferrari 456GT 
2+2. Under the hood will be a modi- 
fied 404-hp Chevy small-block enginc. 
Add Italian-made four-piston Brembo 
brakes, a Hurst shift kit that shortens the 
throw of the stock six-speed gearbox, 
new tubular rear trailing arms and sway 
bars all around, modified 17-inch alloy 
wheels fitted with BF Goodrich Comp 
T/A tires, leather seats, interior wood 
trim and a custom paint job—and you'll 
know why the check you write Callaway 
can reach $35,000. Add the $25,000 that 
you spent for a stock Z28, and for 60 
grand you will have a 170-mph four- 
seater that will outperform an Acura 
NSX or a Dodge Viper. 


DINAN BMW 850i 


Steve Dinan's shop in Mountain View, 
California is America's headquarters for 
BMW 850i aftermarket performance 
and handling products. What can you 
possibly do to an expensive 2+2 coupe 
that already combines a 296-hp, 12- 
cylinder engine with looks that kill? 
Plenty. When Dinan's crew is finished 


Only $3 a min. 18 yrs. or older. 


f 


beautiful Playmate to 
wake you anytime. 
day or right 


= Two calls required for Playmate voice-malibor. 
Or Call 

800-949 

MasterCard and Visa Only 


El PLAYBOY'S SUPER HOTLINE 


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680 N Lake Shore Dr. Chicago. IL 60611. Not avaiable In OR. 


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PLAYBOY 


146 


modifying an 850i, this twin-turbo edi- 
tion has been given a new front suspen- 
sion and an upgraded rear end. Yoko- 
hama performance tires on wide-based 
17-inch alloy wheels help this monster to 
outcorner a Porsche 911 Turbo $2. To 
achieve 607 hp, Dinan punches out the 
BMW's 5-liter V-12 engine to 5.6 liters 
and performs various other enhance- 
ments. The modified 850i tops out at 
186 mph with an automatic transmis- 
sion—and at 205 mph with a six-speed 
manual. The price is $60,000 for the 
conversion. 


GULDSTRAND CORVETTE С590 


Dick Guldstrand is a former racer with 
a yen for Corvettes. He restyles and 
modifies Grand Sport 90s on 1990 to 
1995 ZR-1 chassis. Whether you bring 
your own ZR-1 to his Culver City, Cali- 
fornia shop, or allow him to find a mod- 
el for you, Guldstrand will complete- 
ly make over a Corvette ZR-1 in ten to 
12 weeks. 

The conversion process goes like this 
The old ZR-1's stock wheels, úres, 
take, exhaust and engine computer are 
scrapped, along with most of the factory 
suspension. Then the stock brake rotors 
are cross-drilled, and competition pads 
and stainless-steel lines are fitted. Cus- 
tom coil-over shocks are then installed 
and every rubber bushing is replaced 
with heavy-duty polyurethane units. 
Bigger sway bars are matched with full- 
race camber rods, upgraded trailing 
links and a beefed-up rear end. The en- 
gine is souped to 435 hp. Topping it all 
off, Guldstrand installs a composite 
body, and then paints it with two-stage 


enamel. The total price for these up- 
grades begins at $39,000 above the cost 
of the original ZR-1. You can get а 475- 
hp engine upgrade for yet another 
$10,000, or a mind-boggling 550-hp 
stormer for $19,000 more than the base 
package. 


PETER FARRELL SUPERCARS MAZDA RX-7 


From the looks of Peter Farrell's un- 
derstated shop in Manassas, Virgi 
you'd never guess that the New Zca- 
land-born racer designs and builds RX- 
7s that are faster than anything the Maz- 
da factory can manage. Farrell's Limited 
Edition PFS Mazda RX-7 (pictured on 
page 101) offers performance that easily 
exceeds the stock RX-7—even one 
equipped with Mazda's R2 high-perfor- 
mance package. 

Engine modifications include comput- 
er enhancements and intercooler, ex- 
haust and intake upgrades. Farrell's RX- 
7 develops 360 hp against the stock 
model's 255 hp. His power-train com- 
puter comes with three separate perfor- 
mance calibrations and is capable of be- 
ing programmed to suit different grades 
of fuel. 

As for looks, you won't mistake a PFS 
RX-7 for a stock model, than! E 
tom nose and distinctive deck-lid spoiler. 
"The PFS package adds about $15,000 to 
the price of a $38,000 RX-7. 


SALEEN $351 SPEEDSTER 


Specialty-vehicle manufacturer Steve 
Saleen is known for the magic he works 
on Mustangs. Saleen has produced more 
than 3500 of his Mustangs since setting 
up shop in Irvine, California in 1984. 


“Why do I have this feeling I’m not the first?” 


Saleen prefers to start with a six-cylinder 
Mustang coupe or convertible that he 
then strips and enhances with a hand- 
some interior package and his own per- 
formance parts. He adds ceramic-coated 
exhaust headers and oversize stainless- 
steel pipes and mufflers. To handle the 
engine’s increased output, Saleen alters 
the Mustang’s chassis with progressively 
wound springs and hefty roll bars. The 
5351 stops on a dime, thanks to four-pis- 
ton, competition-style disc brakes. A 
heavy-duty Tremec TKO five-speed 
transmission and custom-balanced drive- 
shaft ensure that power reaches the rear 
wheels. For that down-to-earth racer 
look and feel, the ride height drops 2.5 
inches, and the modified ponycar rides 
on five-spoke Saleen 18-inch alloy 
wheels and wide Dunlop SP8000 tires. 
The complete 1996 Saleen $351 begins 
at $43,000. The hottest Saleen option? 
Add a Vortech supercharger at an addi- 
tional $6300 for 500 hp. 


MORE HOT WHEELS 


In addition to the five souped-up ve- 
hicles we've shown, there are several 
other models that make for wild conver- 
sions. RENN Tech’s Hartmut Feyhl, for 
example, will create a custom Mercedes 
SL500 convertible for up to $200,000 
(that's double the stock price). The SEs 
interior is dressed up and the four-cam 
V-8 is pumped with extra power, result- 
ing in an output of 440 hp and a top 
speed of 182 mph. 

Drag racer John Lingenfelter's spe- 
cialty is engines—and Corvettes. His 
shop in Decatur, Indiana produces 
LTIs-on-steroids that develop a solid 
440 hp (about 140 more horses than a 
stock Corvette) and can hit 189 mph on 
a track. The conversion price starts at 
$14,000. 

Hennessey Motorsports in Houston 
makes the latest 1996 Dodge Viper even 
faster—increasing its 415 hp to 565 hp 
by modifying iduction system, cam- 
shaft, compression ratio and exhaust, 
plus a displacement boost to 520 cubic 
inches. Road testers have reported as- 
tounding 3.5-second zero-to-60 clock- 
ings. The bill for his modified Viper is 
about $30,000 added to the stock mod- 
el's $58,500 base. 

Finally, Fred Opert Racing of Ramsey, 
New Jersey imports the exclusive line of 
Strosek Porsches from Munich. His dra- 
matically restyled and retooled Strosek 
Porsche Mega Carrera 993 costs about 
$100,000 in coupe form and almost 
$110,000 for a cabriolet. 

Be aware that new car warranties are 
often voided by aftermarket modifica- 
tions. However, most reputable modi- 
fiers, including all of the ones we've fea- 
tured, guarantee their work if the car is 
maintained properly. 


ILUTLH (52550 


Edinburgh is equal to Jerusalem in beauty. The cas- 
ile’s on the rock, like in an adolescent girl's fantasy. 


magical indulgence with which the 
grown-ups scemed so pleased. 

Cognacs were, to me, too sweet, as 
were even the sharpest bourbons. Scotch 
was, in my experience, a thin, acid poi- 
son. I drank when I was young because I 
was young, for all those pleasant rea- 
sons, one of which was to aid my choking 
down the cigarette smoke. 

I held the Midwestern belief that any- 
one who knew too much about wine 
would do well to guard that knowledge 
closely, that cognac was just sweet rye 
and that opera was just fat ladies shriek- 
ing. (1 recognized and relaxed in the 
very similar proletarian disposition or 
pretension of Edinburgh and Glasgow, 
where one could, I suppose, drive a 
Bentley, but would have to explain itasa 
"workingman's Bentley.") 

Yes, Scotland, I say. And there I was, 
sitting at the bar in Cambridge, Massa- 
chusetts, that charming Athena of back 
waters, and 1 tasted the good scotch and 
thought, How long has this been go- 
ing on? 

Tt tasted as it might have tasted in a 
world where all advertisements were not 
only true but also brought to our atten- 
tion to increase our happiness. 

It was dark and rich and not at all 
sweet, and quite sharp without being bit- 
ter. It tasted overridingly of smoke and, 
curiously, of iodine. It didn't taste like 
any scotch I'd drunk or could imagine. 
(Lury to think of things as perfect of their 
kind, and comes to mind only thc IBM 
Sclectric typewriter and the mid-Sixties 
Karmann-Chia. If I can get giddy about 
them, I suppose I can get giddy about 
scotch. In for a penny, etc.) 

Which brings me to Edinburgh. 

It is, I think, equal to Jerusalem in 
beauty. The castle's up there on the 
black lava rock, like in an adolescent 
girl's fantasy. The whole city is gray 
stone, and it rains and is cold all the 
time, and that's just fine. Maugham 
wrote that there are ates where one 
writes, and climates where one sweats, 
and І vote with him. 

I asked my wife why I saw such a lot of 
old people walking around Edinburgh, 
and she said, “It’s healthy. And the peo- 
ple enjoy themselves." 

I think that much of our American at- 
titude toward pleasure can be seen in the 
coy, childlike behavior of the flight atten- 
dant offering a dessert: 

“Are you sure I can't tempt you?” 

“Thank you, no.” 

“Just a little bit?" 

Well, no, you know, it’s an ice-cream 
sundae. I haven't had one in 30 years, 


and if I did require one, I wouldn't need 
the accompanying nursery charade: 
“Are you sure that I can't tempt you to 
this naughty pleasure?” 

Our undeniably puritan society can 
countenance chastity or pornography, 
but little in between. It seems we have a 
problem with the issue of control, and 
that we cycle from conservative to liberal 
excesses like a child with two sets of toys: 
јоу with the new giving way to boredom, 
at which point the old is produced to our 
amnesiac delight. 

It is an atmosphere productive of 
pleased tattletales and uneasy liber- 
tines—a puritan country, in short. 

No, but I gotta say. . . . 

(I take the above from il migliore fabbro, 
Alan King, who, years ago, solved the 
problem of the segue beautifully, ele- 
gantly and categorically. He tells the 
joke, adjusts his tie, and says, “No, but I 
gotta say,” and proceeds to a completely 
unrelated matter.) 

Now this: 

We were in Edinburgh visiting the in- 
laws. I was, as usual, being a grumpy old 
curmudgeon. My people don't travel 
well. For the past 6000 years we usually 
moved only because someone was trying 
to kill us. That is my excuse, and I am 
not too proud to use it, and am happy to 
share it with you. 

So there I was, jet-lagged and grumpy 
in Edinburgh. 

“How would you like to visit the 
Scotch Malt Whisky Society?” Trevor 
asked me. 

"OK," I said. 

We went down to Leith, the old port of 
Edinburgh, to the Vaults, which claims 
to be the oldest building in continual 
commercial use in Britain—built in the 
14th century, and, for some hundreds of 
years, a storage and auction house for 
sherries and other wines from the south. 

The sherry arrived and was auctioned 
and bottled. The casks were bought by 
the Scots, who aged their whisky in it. So 
the whisky, the true scotch single malt, 
gets much of its flavor and all of its color 
from the cask. It can be aged in casks 
that once held sherry or bourbon, or 
casks previously unfilled. Its character 
in the main, come from the wood, 
the previous contents, the age and the 
history of the cask: a second-fill cask will 
have a different character than a first All, 
for example. 

‘The character of the whisky will also 
come from the water, the position in the 
run (as whisky is drawn from the still), 
the nature of the malt, time in the cask 
and, Lam told, even from where the cask 


is placed in the maturing room (a more 
moist corner imparts a deeper flavor). 

The basic ingredients and technique, 
like with acting, cooking, courting and 
other fine arts, are simple and straight- 
forward. Barley is soaked and the grains 
are allowed to germinate. These are 
dried in a kiln—in the best breweries, 
by peat smoke. The malted barley is 
dressed (cleaned of sprouts and imper- 
fections), ground and mashed with hot 
water. The liquid is extracted several 
times at increasing heats. The final lig- 
uid is called wort. Yeast is added to the 
wort, and the mixture is fermented, then 
distilled—boiled into vapor and con- 
densed back into liquid—twice. The 
final distillate is scotch w which is 
aged in oak casks for a minimum of 
three years, bottled, sold and drunk. (1 
am indebted to David Daiches, and to his 
most clear, charming and informative 
Scotch Whisky: Its Past and Present for the 
above rendition of the distilling process.) 

So down, I say, I went to Leith, and 
there met Pip Hills, head of the Scotch 
Malt Whisky Society. Pip is a Scotsman, a 
lover, protector and practitioner of true 
Scottish culture. 

Mark Twain wrote that /vanhoe was the 
book that ruined the South. And there 
is, I think, a certain addictive similarity 
of wistfulness in the two conquered 
countries. 

(After World War Two the British 
postal system briefly designated Scot- 
land N.B., i in.) 

In the late Seventies Pip and some 
friends would tour the small distilleries 
and purchase for themselves a cask or so 
of the native potation. This was (and is) 
the true single malt, straight from the 
still to the cask, nondiluted and un- 
filtered. Most scotch sold in the U.S. as 
single malt is approximately 50 percent 
of cask strength, and has been filtered to 
remove undissolved solids. 

England discovered scotch in 1890, 
when it replaced brandy as the national 
drink. Its discovery came about as part 
of their apostrophization of Scottish cul- 
ture. The Victorian English made a 
fetish of Scotland, and frolicked in kilts 
and tartans. Scotland changed, in their 
estimation, from a backwater to a wild 
and romantic, more “natural,” spot. 
Well, the designation "tourist attraction" 
tends to adulterate and eventually to 
obliterate the local character. The Black 
Hills become Mount Rushmore, the 
quaint fishing village becomes Cannes— 
or Provincetown—and Scotland, a vassal 
state of England, became Scorland-l 
And as scotch replaced brandy as the 
British national drink, a way was found 
to make it faster, cheaper and worse. 
he patent substituted grain-neutral 
spirits for malted barley. Blends—mix- 
tures of various whiskies of various dis- 
tilleries mixed with grain whisky— 
replaced the single malt. Color was add- 


ed, and scotch became synonymous in 147 


ьт 


England—and then the world—with 
whisky. 

“True scotch whisky was a farm prod- 
uct, a cottage industry, an indigenous 
treasure, like maple syrup or white light- 
ning, full of character, idiosyncrasy and 
taste. Now t „ Characterless blend- 
ed drink was being sold under the same 
name and made me ill in 1967. 

Pip Hills and his friends decried this 
“tartanry.” They toured the distilleries to 
buy the odd cask, first for their own con- 
sumption, but one thing led to another 
and in 1983 they founded the Scotch 
Malt Whisky Society in Leith, and there 
you are. 

On my first visit, Pip took me to the 
Members’ Room, took down ten bottles, 
and poured a thimble full of each. The 
colors ranged from straw to lemon to 
red-brown. We tried the bouquet, first 
without and then with a bit of water— 
the water changed each bouquet dra- 
matically, opening some, closing others, 
altering all—and then had a small sip of 
each. The whiskies were listed on the 
bottle and the brochure by age, cask 
number, region, and characteri: 
never by the name of the dist 
“Highland Northern: like tooth 
in honey. Distilled April 1976. Gold with 
a touch of green. Bourbon cask. Nose 
rich and creamy, of cut grass and malt to 
begin, of oil and cloves with water. 
very sweet, wild and astonishing. Medic- 
inal but not peaty.” (Sound good?) 

Well, they all sounded good, and they 
all tasted good. The ten were extraordi- 
narily yarious. I tasted each, and my eas- 
ily identifiable favorite was that Lagavu- 
lin, potation of the gods, which Га first 
encountered at the bar in Cambridge. 

I spent a lovely afternoon at the soci- 
ety, resisted buying one of their ties, and 
went off with a cask-strength boule and 
their brochure. 1 got a kick out of that 
brochure. These fellows enjoyed writin, 
about whisky. 1 found whisky described 
as peppery, woody, tasting of vanilla, 
straw, leather, apricots, nutmeg, wet hay, 
creosote, saddle soap, rhubarb. I re- 
membered tasting the м s and 
thinking, "Yes, it's true, it's that various.” 
And 1 wondered who arrived at these 
distinctions. What immortal hand or eye 
was framing these luscious descriptions? 
What agency was raising the status of 
what could arguably be described as 
теге booze to that ofan art? 

On my next trip to Edinburgh I got to 
find out. We were once again visiting the 
old folks at homc, and I, as usual, ar- 
rived jet-lagged and happily out of sorts 
1 announced I was going to bed, and 
would see everyone the following noon. 
Would I not like to stay up for supper? 
No. no, thank you, I said. much too 
fatigued 

The phone rang and it was Pip Hills. 
‘They were having a tasting, he said, a 
meeting of the new cognoscenti who 


148 chose and then described the whiskies 


that would be offered to the society. 
Would 1 like to come? 

Yes, I would. Well, the meeting was to 
be in Leith in one hour. 

I will now confess. 

Once, on a trip to the previously men- 
tioned Jerusalem (no, but I goua say), I 
was invited to study Torah with a world- 
renowned scholar. My wife and I were 
both acquainted with his work, and ex- 
cited at the prospect until we were re- 
minded that his particular profession of 
faith did not admit women to study. So 
we regretfully declined 

You see where this story is going. 

Yes, Pip, I said, I would love to come 
to the tasting, and might it, do you think, 
be appropriate if I were to bring my 
wife? 

He said he did not think it was partic- 
ularly the thing, and I found myself in 
the position of wondering if 1 were the 
sort of man who would decline the possi- 
bility of religious enlightenment that did 
not include my wife but would accept a 
similarly exclusive invitation to taste 
whisky. 

Yes, I was that kind of guy. “Darlin; 
I said, “I'm off to Leith. Do not wait up." 

I adore Scotland. One afternoon I was 
haunting the Botanics—the Royal Bo- 
tanical Garden in Edinburgh, which 
manages to be a surpassingly lovely spot 
despite being filled with what can be de- 
scribed only as plants—I was in the 
checkout line of the café up at the top, 
and I was looking out of the windows at 
a faraway cathedral, and beyond it, the 
Pentland Hills. l'dbeen toa wedding the 
day before at Rosslyn Chapel out by, or 
perhaps in, those very hills. Many of the 
men wore kilts. 

A fellow told me later that Rosslyn 
Chapel is the spot most sacred to World 
Freemasonry. He told me that the Holy 
buried at Rosslyn Chapel, that 
ate stone carvings around the 
sacred to the devil, and that 
ех of a religion that 
nity. 

He took me back inside tie chapel and 
showed me the Apprentice Pillar. It is an 
extraordinarily intricate—and nonethe- 
less beautiful—piece of stone carving, a 
column up by the altar. The other 
columns in the group are fairly plain, 
and this one stands yncratically 
turned and worked, disbalancing, but 
giving a rather lovely weight to, the 
whole effect. An apprentice, the man 
told me, was assigned the work of this 
one column. 

When the master Mason saw the beau- 
ty of the work, he ordered the appren- 
исе killed. He may have added that the 
apprentice was buried in the chapel, but 
if he did I chose and choose to ignore it, 
as that would tend to take his two dis- 
parate and intriguing tales and suggest 
a unifying idée fixe bordering on the 
unfortunate 

Rosslyn Chapel is gorgeous. It is small 


and cold and carved everywhere. 

I shuddered at the geometry—or per- 
haps it is trigonometry—necessary to 
zn those stones. 1 thought of the old 
saw that the cathedrals took centuries to 
build, and yet no builder's name is 
found on them. 

Is it my imagination, I wondered, or is 
this story always and only repeated by 
those with second-class minds? 

So I mused in the checkout line, and 
the pretty young girl at the cash register 
said, "Fritz Kahn. 

Fritz Kahn, I thought. Yes. Architect 
No. If it's an architect it's Louis Kahn. 
Or Robert Kahi 

“Fritz Kahn?” she said. 

1 nodded, playing for time. Surely, 
though, there must be an architect of 
that name. But how did she know the 
tend of my thoughts? 

"Fritz Kahn, sir?" she asked. 

7 1 said. "Could you repeat 


“D'you want a Fritz Kahn?" she sait 
and pointed at some pastries a sign pro- 
claimed to be the day's special: fruit 
scone. And yet I maintain there is, or 
should be, an architect of that name. 
And Lalso had a marvelous morning at a 
café up by the castle. I sat at a table on 
the second floor, with an oblique view 
down the town and all the way to Fife, 
drinking basins of coffee and stuffing 
myself with breads, writing intently and 
watching various squads of young folks 
courting. 

The young people seem happier in 
Edinburgh, too. All right, 1 am a sucker 
for things Scottish: folksinger Jean Red- 
path, James Bond's housekeeper, my 
wife. 

Ah, yes. “I'm off to Leith,” I said. 

We met in the small boardroom of the 
Vaults. On one wall there was a low 
niche, from the floor to, perhaps, five 
feet in height. 

On my first visit Pip had asked me to 
guess its purpose. Statuary came to 
d, but was not interesting enough 
for me to employ as one of my guesses. 
“Don't know,” I said. “Closest thing it re- 
sembles is the niche in the coffin corner 
of a staircase.” 

Pip had never heard of that and so 1 
accomplished my objective of unseating 
him—for the nonce—as the master of 
mystery. But it seems the niche was the 
appointed station of the auctioneer in 
days gone by. (You will remember the 
Vaults was employed as a warehouse and 
auction house for sherry as early as 600 
years ago.) 

Back then, it seems, people were in 
fact quite small. That's where the auc- 
tioneer stood, and prospective buyers 
took the rest of the room to make their 
assessments and bid on the goods. 

No, but I gotta say, which was just the 
sort of clambake to which I had been 
invited 

I showed up in a respectful coat and 


tie. The others were dressed variously— 
jeans and leather jackets, jeans and 
sports coats, two fellows in suits. 

The tasters were men from mid-40s 
to mid-80s. The youngest was a wine 
merchant, the eldest was David Daiches, 
author of the aforementioned Scotch 
Whisky. There was a physics professor, a 
commercial man, a barrister, a fellow 
who I think vias ex-military, Pip and my- 
self—a total of eight 

We began with a Portuguese wine 
brought by the wine merchant. It was 
rather stunningly good, and was called 
Quinta de la Rosa, 1992. 

We had crackers and some cheese, and 
then we sat down 

It was as good as a poker game. 

We had eight whiskies to taste, we had 
cight glasses in front of us, a pitcher of 
water and another for spit. 

Pip began. He would announce the 
's name (this information would 
not appear on the society's bottled offer- 
ing) and pass the bottle around. We'd 
each take perhaps a half ounce, and 
would discuss it in this order: by color, by 
bouquet, by bouquet after the addition 
of water, by taste and by general impres- 
sion. We would then assign it a score 
from one to ten. I was told our sense of 
smell is vastly more perceptive than our 
sense of taste; that taste is, in fact, made 
up primarily of smell—that our percep- 
tion of taste is basically limited to sweet, 
sour. bitter or salty. but that our descrip- 
tions of smell are virtually limitless. 

In gauging the bouquet the gents held 
their noses over the glasses and swirled 
the liquor, as one would expect. They al- 
so rubbed it on the backs of their hands 
(this was a test for smoke, which would 
appear in the bouquet as the whisky 
evaporated) and between their palms. 
Before the tasting began, Doogie (whose 
treatment by Pip seemed to indicate his 
place as somewhere between factotum 
and brains of the outfit) brought around 
a cookie tin filled with what appeared to 
be charred black cloths and corks. Sever- 
al of the men sniffed the contents. 

It seems that at the last tasting. some- 
one had suggested that a scotch tasted 
slightly of "bung cloth" and another, to 
aid in his ability to identify the same in 
future samples, asked for some bung 
cloth to be procured for examination. 
(Bung cloth being, of course, that 
cloth—burlap, or hessian—placed over 
the bung, or stopper, of a cask to ensure 
a tighter fit into the bunghole.) 

This bung detritus was charred from 
the sediment in the cask. It smelled 
sharp and rather pleasant. 1 took a bit of 
the cloth and rubbed it between my 
palms and sniffed them, electing this as a 
reasonable occupation for one who had 
no idea of what he was doing. 

So we began. 

Blank Blank Distillery. Sixteen years 
old. Water brings out the pepper. Oaky. 
More Islay than Orkney. 


Comments came from around the 
table. Yellow cast. Peat and fruit. Peachy. 
Peppery. David Daiches identified it as 
being from a fino sherry cask. 

Addition of water dissipates its peati- 
ness. Brings out a saltiness. Pear drops 
on top. Gotten more bland. Now pep- 
pery. Taste thins. Takes a lot of water. 
Rate it a four. General agreement. Send 
to Sheol. 

Daiches' comment reminded me of 
a story Zino Davidoff tells in his fine 
Connoisseur's Book of the Cigar: Three 
Spaniards came into his shop. Each 
chosc a cigar, smoked it and then iden- 
tified the tobacco of which his cigar was 
made. Davidoff confesses himself im- 
pressed, and laments that such expertise 
probably exists no more 

But I saw it around the table, and was 
impressed and delighted to be included. 

Thorstein Veblen reminds us that any 
endeavor using a preponderance of jar- 
gon is largely make-believe. But the talk 
around the table was not jargon, it was 
dedicated amateurs speaking lovingly of 
an object of their admiration, and doing 
so in standard and quite charming 
speech. We heard the designations: late 
run, early run, second fill. But in the 
main the talk ran to concrete attempts to 
describe the evanescent: orange peel, 
citrusy, marzipan sweetness, almost rem- 
iniscent of anchovies, yeasty aftertaste. 
Very clean, a good “breakfast” whisky, 
good aperitif. 

There is a sign in the Members’ Room 
that connoisscurship is the adversary of 
inebriation; and, indeed, one could not 
have encountered а more respectful atti- 
tude than one found in the room. The 
tasters were engaging in preserving and 
extending a beloved native heritage— 
the single malt Ik product. Its vagaries 
and quiddities, distillery, year and cask, 
were of as much moment to them as 
wine is to the chaps in Bordeaux. In the 
best Scots tradition, their expertise was 
not that of an elite, but of the simple cit- 
izen’s right to enjoy the good things nat- 
urally incident to the locale. 

Well, I was glad to be there. 

“Linseed oil.” 

“Rubber? Does the water bring out 
rubber?” 

“Hessian?” 

“Verbena.” (All chuckled.) 

"Tightass." (Corrected to "reticent.") 

A: “I find it muddy.” 

B: “You've been very fortunate in the 
mud you've tasted.” 

So it went around. Sooty. Wood shav- 
ings. Caramel, corrected to burnt toffee. 
Brackish. The kind of whisky a lady 
ought to carry in her handbag. (This the 
most aggressive opprobrium of the 
evening.) Musky. Bicycle seat (with con- 
comitant digression). Nutmeg. Custard- 
apple. I noticed that many of the de- 
scriptions were terms from childhood. 
Well, of course, the senses are sharper 


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then. Life, for the happy child, is sim- 
pler; and the special treats, the special 
pleasures, are pleasures indeed. The 
Stoics wrote, “You will not have to en- 
dure old age. That man is being trained 
now, by the gods.” 

And, indeed, much of the delightful 
seemliness of the tasting was this: We 
were indulging in a pleasure legitimately 
attendant upon advancing age. (Did not 
Escoffier remind us that gustatory plea- 
sure will persist when all others are 
gone?) 

Our next-to-last whisky was aged 30 
years. I suggested it would likely be quite 
good, and was informed yes, it would. or 
quite vile. It was reddish and dark. We 
heard “elusi icati -" "Got 


The table got quiet as the men sniffed it. 
“Good-quality fresh root ginger," one 
said. 

Water is added, we taste, conversation 
derails. "Cinnamon on top.” Pause. 

“Very noble," all agree. Pause. "Spices 
come through on the palate.” И 
awarded an cight, the highest mark of 
any of the whiskies we have tasted in two 
sessions. 

We go reluctantly on to the last of 
the evening, which nobody likes. “Miles 
away from the bonfire,” says one. “Sour 
plaster.” Pause. “Sour plaster.” Itis given 
a wretched four, and that's it for the 
business of the evening, and we all re- 
turn to the previous (Inchgower, 1966). 
lam invited back the following week. 

Mé taste another 30-year-old, doesn't 
age well. "As you would expect of any old 
whisky, no individual odors coming off. 


"This whisky is a perfect example of the 
workings of natural justice—only the 
wealthy and misled will pay £60 a bottle 
for it.” 

That evening we also hear, “Like the 
sea breeze blowing over grass,” and ofa 
Bruichladdich, 1979, “Not just balance, 
but coexistence,” and then, “The dis- 
tillery just closed down. It's a fucking 
disgrace." 

е 


1 remember a wonderful inn-restau- 
rant in South Royalton, Vermont. The 
cooking was French and light, and the 
food was hot and clean, and just right 
Ten years intervened and 1 found myself 
back. The name was the same, but it had 
changed hands, some consortium had 
got it. 

"How's the food?" I said. "Still good?" 

"Well," the fellow said, "it's a lot more 
consistent." 

Gene Debs said that you can vote for 
freedom and you'll probably lose, or you 
can vote for slavery and you'll certainly 
win. And our particular time and clime 
value the idea of winning above all else. 

The ancient province of the proletari- 
at, fresh, simple food and drink —the lo- 
cal bakery or brewery, the pot still, hand- 
pressed cider—is now enjoyed by only a 
few. The Bruichladdich distillery closed 
(1979: “Subtle, beautifully balanced 
whisky, a refined drink”), and the lesson 
of Babel we see all day every day is that 
when too many of us band together we 
must turn to mischief. 

I wrote long ago (in the employ, I be- 
lieve, ofthis same magazine) that fashion 


“For us it was a case of love at first sighting.” 


is an attempt of the comfortable to co- 
opt tragedy. I look back at that jejune 
pronunciamento and wonder if, in spite 
of its being dramatic, it might not after 
all be true. 

America not only expresses itself but 
to a large extent also defines itself 
through African American music and 
Jewish films. 

Victorian England was raised on Sir 
Walter Scott's Waverley novels, but Eng- 
land could not have the dignity and 
tragedy of the Scottish defeat—they say 
a loser can't get enough to cat and a win- 
ner can't sleep—so the English took the 
tartan and Waverley, and glorified their 
Scots regiments, and took up drinking 
scotch. 

Pip Hills and I were sitting in his 
kitchen in the New Town, Edinburgh. 
The kitchen was graced by a fire-engine 
red Aga cooker—the stove-oven-cook- 
eater that is the best of things 

h. 

We were drinking superb coffee and 
feeling expansive. We spoke of things 
which were perfect of their kind—the 
Aga, of course, and I mentioned Laga- 
vulin, the 88-inch-wheelbase Land 
Rover, the Selectric typewriter. He asked 
if I would like to see the most beautiful 
object he had ever seen. 

He brought out what looked to be a 
small steam engine—the whole affair 
perhaps ten inches long and five high. 

"Now, what is it?” he asked 

“I don't know. Looks like a patent 
model of a steam engine.” 

He shook his head. 

It was a Stirling engine. Designed and 
patented by a Robert Stirling, a Scottish 
minister, in the 19th century. 

The engine worked, Hills explained, 
on heat. Heat was applied to a cylin- 
der and the resultant expansion inside 
moved a valve, thus creating a vacuum 
inside the cylinder, which drew a recip- 
rocating valve. 

Its efficiency, he explained, was only 
six percent—considerably lower than a 
steam engine's—and for more than 100 
years engineers had searched in vain for 
application 

Then one day. he said, someone ob- 
served that the reverse of its inefficiency 
as an engine was its efficiency as a heat 
pump—and a variation is now in use ex- 
tracting the heat given off by supercom- 
puters. It was a beautiful machine. But 1 
thought it excessive, calling it the most 
beauuful object he had ever seen. 

Reflection suggested, however, that its 
beauty rested not just in the engine as 

h, but in the engine and its history— 
took almost 200 years of thought 
ts simplicity and worth to be recog- 
nized, and then the stone that the 
builders refused became the corner- 
stone—the fast-moving, self important 
world came back to Scotland. 


ANDES 


(continued from page 66) 
their pockets. They tied the travelers" 
hands behind their backs with lengths of 
rope or animal gut. 

“We're not your enemies, and we're 
not political. We don't work for the gov- 
ernment, we work for all Peruvians," 
said Señora d'Harcourt, extending her 
hands to make her captors' work easier 
"Our job is to defend the environment, 
our natural resources. To keep nature 
from being destroyed so that in the fu- 
ture all the children of the sierra will 
have food and work." 

“Señora d'Harcourt has written many 
books about our plants, our animals,” 
explained the engineer. “She's an ideal- 
ist like you. She wants a better life for the 
campesinos. Thanks to her, this region 
will be covered with trees. That's a won- 
derful thing for the comuneros, for Huan- 
cavelica. For you and your children. It's 
good for all of us, regardless of politics.” 

They allowed Cañas and Señora 
d'Harcourt to speak without interrup- 
tion, but they did not pay the slightest at- 
tention to what they said. They had mo- 
bilized, placing sentries at various 
positions that allowed them to keep an 
eye on the road to the village and the 
trail that climbed along the snowfields. It 
was a cold, dry morning with a clear sky 
anda cutting wind. The high walls ofthe 
hillsides seemed renewed. 

"Our struggle is like yours,” said Seño- 
ra d'Harcourt, her voice calm, her ex- 
pression revealing no sign of alarm. 
“Don't treat us like enemies; we're not 
your enemies.” 

“Could we talk to your leader,” Cañas 
asked from time to time, “or with any 
person in charge? Allow me to speak 
with him.” 

After some time had passed, a group 
of them entered the shack, and those 
who remained outside had the members 
of the traveling party go in one by one. 
The questions were asked in loud voices. 
Those outside could follow portions of 
the dialogue. These were slow, repetitive 
interrogations: personal information 
mixed with political considerations and 
occasional queries regarding other peo- 
ple and foreign affairs. The first one 
questioned was the driver, followed by 
the technicians and then the engineer. It 
was growing dark by the time Cañas 
came out. Señora d’Harcourt realized 
with some surprise that she had been 
standing for ten hours with nothing to 
eat or drink. But she did not feel hunger, 
or thirst, or fatigue. She thought about 
her husband, grieving more for him 
than for herself. She watched Canas 
walk out. His expression had changed, 
as if he had lost the certainty that had 
animated him during the day, when he 
had tried to speak with them. 

"They hear, but they dont listen, and 
they don't want to understand what you 


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151 


RE aE BO ¥ 


152 


say to them,” she heard him murmur as 
he walked past her. “They're from an- 
other planet.” 

When she entered the shack, they had 
her sit on the ground in the same posi 
tion the three men and one woman in- 
side had assumed. Señora d'Harcourt 
addressed the one who wore a leather 
jacket and a scarf around his neck, a 
young man with a full beard and cold, 
gray, penetrating сус». She told him 
about her life in some detail, from her 
birth almost 60 years ago in that remote 
Baltic country she did not remember 
and whose language she did not speak to 
her nomadic childhood in Europe and 
America, moving from school to school, 
language to language, country to coun- 
try, until, not yet 20 and recently mar- 
ried to a young diplomat, she came to 
Peru, She told him of her love at first 
sight for the Peruvians and, above all, 
about her awe and wonder at the 
deserts, the jungles, the mountains, the 
trees, the animals, the snows in this 
country that was now her country, too. 
Not only because her passport said so— 
she had taken the nationality of Marcelo, 
her second husband—but because she 
had earned the right to call herself Peru- 
vian afier many years of traveling the 
length and breadth of this country, 
studying and fostering its beauty in her 
lectures, articles and books. She would 
go on doing this work until the end of 
her days because it had given meaning 
to her life. Did they understand that she 
was not their enemy? 

Again they listened without interrupt- 
ing, but their faces showed no interest in 
what she said. Only when she stopped 
speaking, afier explaining how difficult 
it had been for her and that gencrous, 
self-sacrificing young man, the engincer 
Cañas, to begin the reforestation pro- 
gram in Huancavelica, did they begin to 
ask her questions. Without enmity or an- 


tipathy, with dry, mechanical phrases in 
neutral, routinized voices, as if, thought 
Señora d'Harcourt, all the questions 
were a useless formality because they al- 
ready knew the answers. They asked 
how long she had been an informer for 
the police, the army, the Intelligence 
Agency; they asked about her trips, her 
inspection tours. She gave them all the 
details. The Military Institute of Geogra- 
phy had asked her to serve as a consul- 
tant to the Permanent Commission, 
which was redrawing and improving the 
atlas, and this had been her only connec- 
tion to the armed forces except for an 
occasional lecture at the Military Acade- 
my, the Naval Academy or the Center for 
Advanced Military Studies. They wanted 
to know about her contacts with foreign 
governments, the ones she worked for, 
the ones that had sent her instructions. 
She explained that it wasn't a question of 
governments but of scientific institu- 
tions—the Smithsonian in Washington, 
the Museum of Man in Paris, the British 
Museum in London and a few founda- 
tions or ecological centers from which 
she occasionally obtained funds for small 
projects (“It was never very much”). But 
while she talked, corrected and speci- 
fied, and though her responses stressed 
the fact that none of her contacts was po- 
litical, that all these connections and re- 
nships were scientific, purely scien- 
tific, the expressions and glances of her 
interrogators filled her with the over- 
whelming certainty of an insuperable in- 
comprehension, a lack of communica- 
tion more profound than if she had been 
speaking Chinese and they spoke only 
Spanish. 

When it seemed to be over—her 
mouth was dry and her throat burned— 
Señora d'Harcourt felt very tired. 

“Are you going to kill me?” she asked, 
hearing her voice break for the first 
time. The one in the leather jacket 


COCHRANE 


“Whoa! This stuff is slick!” 


looked into her eyes without blinking. 

“This is a war, and you are a lackey of 
our class enemy,” he explained, staring 
at her with blank eyes, delivering his 
monolog in an expressionless voice. 
“You don’t even realize that you are a 
tool of imperialism and the bourgeois 
state. Even worse, you permit yourself 
the luxury of a clear conscience, seeing 
yourself as Peru's Good Samaritan. Your 
case is typical.” 

“Can you explain that to me?” she 
said. “In all sincerity, I don't understand. 
What is my case typical of?” 

“The intellectual who betrays the peo- 
ple,” he said with the same serene, icy 
confidence. “The intellectual who serves 
bourgeois power and the ruling class 
What you do here has nothing to do with 
the environment. It has to do with your 
class and with your power. You come 
here with bureaucrats, the newspapers 
provide publicity and the government 
wins a battle. Who said that this was lib- 
erated territory? That a part of the New 
Democracy had been established in this 
zone? A lie. There's the proof. Look at 
the photographs. A bourgeois peace 
reigns in the Andes. You don’t know this 
cither, but a new nation is being born 
here, with a good deal of blood and suf- 
fering. We can show no mercy to such 
powerful enemies.” 

“May I at least intercede on behalf of 
Cañas?” Senora d'Harcourt stammered. 
“He's young, almost the same age as 
you. I've never known a more idealis- 
tic Peruvian, one who works with so 
much— 

“The session is over,” said the young 
man in the jacket as he rose to his feet. 

When they walked outside, the sun 
was setting behind the hills and the nurs- 
ery of seedlings was disappearing in a 
great fire whose flames heated the air 
and made their cheeks burn. Señora 
d'Harcourt saw the driver ig into 
the Jeep. A short while later, he drove off 
in the direction of Huancav 

“At least they let him go,” sai 
gincer, who stood beside her. 
he's a decent guy.” 

"I'm so sorry, Señor Ca 
mured. “I feel so guilty about you. 1 
don' t know how to beg your——” 
йога, it a great honor for me,” he 
said in a firm voice. “1 mean, being with 
you at the end. They ve taken the two 
technicians over there, and because they 
hold a lower rank, they'll shoot them in 
the head. You and 1, however, are people 
of privilege. They just explamed it Lo 
me. A question of symbols, apparently. 
You're a believer, aren't you? I'm not, so 
please pray for me. Can we stand togeth 
er? ГШ bear up better if I can hold your 
hand. L ег try, all right? Move closer, 
señora.” 

—Tvanslated from the Spanish by Edith 


Grossman 


JANES MBROGNO 


WHAT'S HAPPENING, WHERE IT’S HAPPENING AND WHO'S MAKING IT HAPPEN 


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eyewear for winter. Antiqued metal frames in matte gold, 
pewter and black are perfect complements to the new sophi 
ed menswear styles. Rimless glasses such as the Calvin Klein pair 


pictured below are a subtle alternative, but if you prefer to go bold, 
try a pair of horn-rimmed Buddy Holly-type glasses. When choos- 
ing frames, select a style that flatters the shape of your face. Any- 
thing goes if you're an oval but, as a rule, round faces look best 
rectangular-shaped frames, squares in curvy styles and triangles in 
glasses that angle outward at the eyes to balance a wider jawline. 


Clockwise below, from top left: Black horn-rimmed glasses by Main Street ($129). Black metal frames with temple detailing, by Jean-Paul 
Gaultier ($295). Oval tortoiseshell frames with optional clip-on sunglasses, from the Elton John Collection by Oliver Peoples ($395). Squared- 
off oval glasses made of titanium, by Red Rose ($180). Rimless glasses by Calvin Klein ($270). Pewter frames by Indian Eyewear (about $300). 


Whare & Hew to Buy on page 151. 


e GRAPEVINE 


Strutting Her Stuff 


You know actress NICOLE EGGERT. She was Jamie on Charles in Charge, 
Summer on Baywatch—and sexy in the movie Blown Away. Here she’s at 
play at a benefit for California AIDS Ride 3. 


January 
Shower 
Be sure to look 
for Playmate 
KATHY SHOW- 
ER as well as 
other beautiful 
female athletes 
on Super Bowl 
Sunday's pay- 
per-view show 
Real Men Don't 
Watch Pre- 
Game. We cer- 
tainly will. 


No Trouble 
With Harry 


HARRY BELAFONTE 
has been back in front 
of the cameras, first in 
White Man's Burden 
and more recently in 
Robert Altman's 
Kansas City, a jazzy 
epic co-starring Jen- 
nifer Jason Leigh. 
Don't cross him. 


Bush Whacked 


BUSH’s debut release, Sixteen 
Stone, has gone platinum. Before 
they played their first London gig at 
. an outdoor car park, they worked as 
е housepainters and as delivery boys 
for a kosher sushi restaurant. Grunge 


4 from Britain makes its mark. 


4 


Chanteuse Chanté 


A Love Supreme, Chante Moore's latest CD, warms Ihe air- 
waves Just as her tour with Barry White heats up the concert 
stage. Moore's soulful sound began with singing in the 
bedroom. Get cozy and listen up. 


Shayna 
Drops 
Trou 


SHAYNA KAPLAN 
was featured in a 
bikini contest on 
Showtime's sit- 
com Sherman 
Oaks. No prob- 
lem playing 

that role, She's 
also appeared 
on Tales From 
the Crypt. 
Shayna 

makes us 

yearn for an 
afterlife. 


A Gift 
for Riff 

LUTHER ALLISON can 
smoke a guitar. Get his 
CD Blue Sireak and hear 
it. for: yourself. Allison 
Played U.S. club dates 
this past fall. Next time 
he tours, catch him for 
Some blues in the night. 


POTPOURRI 


GREAT CAESAR'S GHOSTS 


Only at Caesars Palace in Las Vegas could 
fine dining be combined with grand illu- 
sions, all hosted by a sorcerer. In fact, 
Caesars’ new Magical Empire has ten un- 
derground dining chambers, two theaters 
and bars all laced together in a subter- 
ranean maze. There's even a luminary 
show that's a combination of sound, light, 
fire and a visit by none other than Caesar 
himself. Prix fixe dinner is $55. 


A WATERY GROOVE 


Do you and your girlfriend want to spend February bathing in Dead 
Sea salts with mint, and March soaking in a mixture of milk and 
macadamia nuts? Then join the Bath of the Month Club, a new mail- 
order service that ships some of the world's most exotic spa products, 
including silk clay masks and ginseng spritzers, to sybarites every 30 
days. Club membership is $35. Two monthly products cost about $11, 
postpaid (a newsletter is part of the deal). Call 800-406-ватн for info. 


THE KISS OF DEATH 


For Valentine's Day, pick up a copy of 
Murder for Love, which contains 16 new 
short stories that explore the subject of 
love gone wrong. Authors include Ed 
McBain, Elmore Leonard and rıaysov’s 
own Shel Silverstein. "Can you imagine 
how much one person has to love anoth- 
er person to want to kill?" says Otto Pen- 
дег, the book's editor, in the introduc- 
tion. "Fecling the urge—no, the need—to 
kill someone is proof of truly deep emo- 
tion." Price: $19.95. 


BIBBER'S BAEDEKER 


A number of excellent books on alcoholic beverages have just been 
published. Here's a rundown: Scotland: The Laud and the Whisky, by 
Roddy Mar an extravagantly illustrated look at the liquor 
the Highlands. The Book of Bourbon and Other Fine American Whiske 
Gary Regan and Mardee Haidi 


ad 
by 
explores the lore and lure of "the king 
of Amei whiskeys." Charles Schumann's American Bar celebrates 
“the artistry of mixing drinks,” while Joseph Lanza's The Cocktail re- 
flects on “the influence of spirits on the American psyche.” Finally, The 
Ultimate Little Shooter Book, by Ray Foley, and Shooters, by Jim Booker, 
156 provide recipes for shots ranging from the A-bomb to the zipperhead 


QUITE A STRETCH 


More Balls Than Most, the 
Manhattan company that 
markets juggling balls and 
clubs, has expanded its line 
with Gas, Gastronomy and 
the Modern Art of Balloon 
Modeling. This $15.95 Kit in- 
cludes about 50 balloons, an 
air pump and a booklet with 
instructions on how to create 
everything from a pregnant 
dachshund to a blow-up din- 
ner party with hats and table 
decorations (serve that to 
your friends on a diet). Call 
More Balls at 212-691-9660 
for the name of a retailer. 


THE NOBLE GAME 


With 512 pages, 760 illustra- 
tions (520 in color) and a 
weight of nine pounds, The 
Billiard Encyclopedia ("An Il- 
lustrated History of the 
Sport") is almost as big as a 
coffee table. It took six years 
to complete the tome, which 
is the most comprehensive 
documentation of the sport 
ever published. It features 
more than 100 pages on cue 
making, plus photos of rare 
pool memorabilia and much 
more. Price: $130. A limited 
edition that's quarter-bound 
in leather and boxed is $400. 
Call 718-796-5445 to order. 


EVERYTHING'S 
COMING UP 
GOLDEN ROSES 


Anyone can give the one 
they love an ordinary red 
` rose on Valentine's Day — 
or any other day ofthe 
year, for that matter. But if 
you want to come off like 
King Midas instead of just a 
romantic mensch, send your 
check to Sorrell Enterprises 
at PO. Box 630187, Miami, 
Florida 33163. It sells real 
long-stemmed American ros- 
es that have been lovingly 
hand-dipped in 24-kt. gold, 
then carefully wrapped in 
cellophane and clegantly 
boxed. Price: $50 cach, post- 
paid. Be a sport and order a 
dozen. They won't wilt 


AMERICA’S MAIN STREET 


In The Grapes of Wrath, John Steinbeck calls 
Route 66 “the mother road.” If you would like 
to take a video ride that begins in Illinois and 
ends an hour later in California, order a copy 
of Route 66: An American Odyssey. On the way 
you'll meet people who live along Route 66, 
learn the history of the road, view clips from 
the Route 66 TV show and probably get one 
powerful urge to drive it yourself. Price: $28.95. 
Call Pacific Communications, 800-368-3748. 


UP IN SMOKE 


‘To commemorate the 150th anniversary of 
Partagas cigars, the General Cigar Corp. has 
released the Partagas 150 Signature Series 
These cigars are available for a limited time 
and feature a rare 18-year-old Cameroon wrap- 
per. Prices range from $5.50 to $28, depending 
on size. Pictured here is a book-shaped humi- 
dor holding ten individually boxed Don Ra- 
mons that sells for $280. Call 800-551-0507 for 
tobacco retailer information. 


158 


NEXT MONTH 


THE JURY IS OUT 


DESERT CURSE 


ROCKING HISTORY 


THE CURSE OF DESERT STORM—THE GULF WAR HAS 
BEEN OVER FOR FIVE YEARS, BUT THE MOST GHASTLY U.S. 
CASUALTIES ARE JUST APPEARING—A SPECIAL REPORT 
ОМ THE MEDICAL MYSTERY BY KATE MCKENNA 


JOHN TRAVOLTA —EVERYBODY'S FAVORITE COMEBACK 
KID TELLS HOW A FEW BAD MOVIE CHOICES LANDED HIM 
IN CAREER EXILE AND HOW PULP FICTION AND GET SHORTY 
CHANGED HIS LIFE. DON'T MISS THIS PLAYBOY INTERVIEW 
BY DAVID SHEFF 


1, THE JURY—FOR A YEAR WE NEVER SAW THEIR FACES. 
NOW TRACY HAMPTON, AN O.J. JUROR FOR FOUR 
MONTHS. REVEALS A WHOLE LOT MORE—A NOT-SO-INNO- 
CENT PICTORIAL 


OPERATION CHICKEN HAWK—YOU'LL NEVER BELIEVE 
WHERE WE FOUND OUR FAVORITE, LOUDMOUTHED, RIGHT- 
WING ZEALOTS—GINGRIGH, GRAMM, BUCHANAN AND LIM- 
BAUGH: IN OLLIE NORTH'S COMBAT PLATOON IN VIET- 
NAM—HUMOR BY AL FRANKEN 


BOXES—AN EX-CON TRYING TO GO STRAIGHT UNDER- 
GOES POWERFUL PRESSURE FROM HIS EX-DEALER AND 
FRIENDS TO STEAL AGAIN—A TINGLING TALE OF TEMPTA- 
TION BY PAUL GRINER 


THE STRIPPER NEXT DOOR—TEN THOUSAND WOMEN 
MOONLIGHT AT STRIP CLUBS WHILE THEY GO TO SCHOOL, 
WORK AT CAREERS OR BRING UP THEIR KIDS. DON'T LOOK 
TOO CLOSE—YOU MIGHT RECOGNIZE ONE 


DICK VITALE—IN AN ERA OF MILLION-DOLLAR DEALS AND 
PRIMA DONNA JOCKS, THE KING OF COMMENTARY IN COL- 
LEGE BASKETBALL REMINDS US WHAT THE GAME IS ALL 
ABOUT. A PRIME-TIME 20 QUESTIONS BY RICHARD LALICH 


DEATH STALKS THE BIG EASY—DEAD PROSTITUTES, 
CORRUPT COPS AND A SERIAL KILLER FURTHER THE 
WICKED DECAY OF NEW ORLEANS—A REAL-LIFE THRILLER 
BY ANDREI CODRESCU 


TOP DESIGNERS DO TV—WE ASKED CALVIN KLEIN, RALPH 
LAUREN AND DONNA KARAN TO DRESS UP NEW YORK'S 
HOT NEW SHOWS —LAW AND ORDER, NEW YORK UNDER 
COVER AND CENTRAL PARK WEST—THE FORECAST OF UR- 
BAN FASHION 


PLUS: PLAYBOY' S HISTORY OF JAZZ AND ROCK: THE SEV- 
ENTIES, TIPS TO KEEP YOUR HAIR LOOKING GREAT AND, 
FOR VALENTINE'S DAY, THE START OF A NEW FEATURE. 
PLAYMATE REVISITED 


€ 1996 Bs WT Co 


SURGEON GENERAL'S WARNING: Quitting Smoking 


Now Greatly Reduces Serious Risks to Your Health. 


100$, 16 mg “tar”, 1.2 mg. nicotine av per cigarette by FTC method.