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The Nude 


DEEPAK CHOPRA ل‎ 
JOHN UPDIKE GOLDBER 
BILL MAHER 
JAY MCINERNEY 
HAROLD ROBBINS JAMES BOND 
GEORGE PLIMPTON 
WILLIAM F BUCKLEY FLATRATE 
JOYCELYN ELDERS AEA 
= 
\ YEAR IN SEX 


a 


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


Ss XE. 


16 mg “tar” 1.1 mg 
nicotine av. per 
cigarette by FTC method. 


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


ullum 


Î tar” 1.1 mg nicotine av. per cigarette by FTC method 


-— | | 
don Roman cci ats 


"© Philip Morris Inc. 1996. 


It’s a place where the season 
has a flavor allits own. 


LONDON 
DRY GIN 


Ла fon 100% 
Gain Matat Fat 


Kon a 7767 эчу 


rand нет 


UANLUN IMPORTERS D 
CT 


IN ANTHROPOLOGY, New Year's Eve is a liminal event—a thresh- 
old that separates the old from the new. Our culture has had 
its share of liminal moments, and there’s no better time than 
an anniversary issue to celebrate our favorite movers, shakers 
and stirrers. We start with Marilyn Monroe, the most profound- 
ly sexual woman of our era. She was born the same year as 
Hugh Hefner was and shared the same sense of liberation. “I 
dreamed | was standing in church without any clothes on,” 
she once said, “and all the people there were lying at my feet.” 
We offer you a chance to worship at heraltar with a combina- 
tion of new and eternal images in this month’s tribute, The 
Nude Marilyn. Included in this special pictorial are historically 
significant photos by Tem Kelley, who took the red-velvet calen- 
dar shot that appeared in the first issue of rLaynoy. We have 
digitally separated a double exposure from that photo session, 
and the result is an entirely new image of Marilyn. There are 
colorized Polaroids from the publicity shoot for Something's Cot 
to Give—during which Marilyn unexpectedly stripped off her 
bathing suit—carly cheesecake by Earl Moran, pictures from 
the “black sitting” by Milton Greene, newly enhanced images 
by Bert Stern and the last nude photo of Marilyn, by Leif-Erik 
Nygärds. With text by amateur Monrovian John Updike, our 
recast portfolio will undoubtedly fuel your erotic imagination 

From double M to 007: Two years before the theatrical re- 
lease of Dr. No (001 in the movie series), James Bond made his 
graceful introduction to рілувоу in The Hildebrand Rarity 
(March 1960), a novelette by spy master Ian Fleming. Over 
the years, Fleming continued to showcase his fiction with us 
(We even devoted six covers to Bond’s women.) Well into our 
fifth decade of the Bond Age, we have good news: James is 
back and he's ready to take Manhattan. Reymond Benson was 
recently named to succeed Jahn Gardner as author of the 007 
novels and has presented us with his cordite-redolent short 
story Blast From the Past. In it, Bond must slice through the Big 
Apple in search of his son’s killer. The double-barreled art- 
work is by Gregory Manchess. 

For a real-life cloak-and-stiletto story, nothing beats the 
bloody career of Colombo family caporegime Gregory Scarpa. 
There was nothing Scarpa wouldn't do: loan-sharking, hijack- 
ing, bribing police, murder—or ratting out his friends and en- 
emies to the FBI. It was Scarpa, in fact, who helped cripple 
the Mob. But by shielding him from rival law enforcement 
agencies, the FBI allowed Scarpa free rein to pursue his own 
bloody agenda. In Mafia Mole, reporter Bob Drury brings us the 
latest on what could be the FBI's biggest scandal. 

Now for some comic relief: Whoopi Goldberg believes in 
ghosts. She won an Oscar for playing a medium in Ghost and 
says she feels the spirits of Bette Davis, John Garfield and 
Moms Mabley guiding her. They must be giving her good ad- 
vice, because she’s everywhere: hosting the Academy Awards, 
emcecing the president's birthday party, selling us long-dis- 
tance phone service, starring in a wide variety of movies and 
even serving fluorescent drinks in outer space—all without 
cutting her braids. She pulled down $8 million for Sister Act 2 
and will star in the drama Ghosts of Mississippi. In a far-ranging 
interview, she tells Contributing Editor David Sheff how she 
and Ted Danson were burned at her Friars Club roast and why 
she felt Jesse Jackson dissed h 

The author of 17 book: cluding the forthcoming The 
Path to Love: Renewing the Power of Spirit in Your Life (Crown- 
Harmony)—and creator of lauded PBS specials, Deepak 
Chopra may be the biggest believer in sexual healing since 
Marvin Gaye. In Does God Have Orgasms? (illustrated by Frank 


PLAYBILL 


UPDIKE 


MANCHESS 


DRURY 


'HOPRA GALLO 


Playboy (ISSN 0032-1478), January 1997, volume 44, number 1. Published monthly by Playboy in national and regional editi 


Playboy, 


680 North Lake 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. Sub: 
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¡ptions: in the U.S., $29.97 for 12 issues. Postmas- 
it@playboy.com. 


GREEN 


MCINERNEY 


ROBBINS 


NEIMAN. 


WIEDER 


Gallo), he outlines the path to true intimacy and applauds the 
ty of an orgasm—with nary a mention of self-help or the 
sound of one-handed clapping. The article was inspired by a 
Catholic nun who wondered why repressive religious tradi- 
tions hold that God is not sexual. “I remembered,” Chopra 
says, “what I had been taught as a child from the great Vedic 
tradition: The creative energy of the universe is sexual ener- 
gy.” That’s good news for George Plimpton and Arnold Roth, 
whose creative tanks are full. Plimpton had so much fun last 
month, he’s back for more; illustrator Roth, a longtime con- 
tributor, returns with him. Together they have produced an il- 
lustrated zoo of love called A Sex Bestiary. You'll meet such shy 
and mysterious creatures as the Foreplay and the French Kiss 
For truly strange behavior, check out The Year in Sex. You'll 
find bad Grammer, reckless royals and the wild world of the 
Worm, Dennis Rodman. 

On a more sober note, there's Save Money, Cul Crime, Get Re- 
al—our symposium on decriminalizing drugs. When they 
have their thinking caps on, intellectuals of the caliber of 
William F. Buckley Jr., Kurt Schmoke and M. Joycelyn Elders find 
drug reform an appealing proposition. The war on drugs has 
given the U.S. a higher incarceration rate than the former So- 
Viet Union. But what would making drugs legal mean? We as- 
sembled Whigs and Tories alike to argue the point. The solu- 
tion is as much about individual freedom, medical reform and 
prevention as it is about rewriting the penal code. To keep 
things politically incorrect, we turn the podium over to come- 
dian Bill Maher to protect us in the event of a right-wing driv 
by. In Bill Maher, PI. he defends contrarian views and caustic 
humor, the hallmarks of his TV show Politically Incorrect. We've 
covered sex, drugs and now rock and roll: Sharpen your pen- 
cils and rock the vote. Fill in a ballot from the Playboy Jaz € 
Rock Poll to keep us attuned to your favorite artists and songs. 

In the literary world, Jay Мапегпеу and Harold Robbins are 
the equivalent of stadium acts. McInerney's Con Doctor is a co- 
da to the world he made famous in his novel Bright Lights, Big 
City. The story's hero, McClarty, has left behind the narcotics 
and vodka of the Fighties and is clinging to his medical degree 
as a prison physician. He's feeling hopeful. Unfortunately, his 
dangerous patients are about to change that. (Elliott Green did 
the illustration.) The hero in The Port of St. Tropez has a differ- 
ent problem. He’s a famous and busy writer named Harold 
Robbins—but he just can't seem to get any work done. When 
he retreats to his yacht, Robbins finds himself swept up in a 
web of feminine intrigue. The choice for an artist was easy: 
LeRoy Neiman, a fellow bon vivant also well acquainted with the 
Côte d'Azur. He revisited St. Tropez and worked first on a wa- 
tercolor, then a pastel. “The biggest decision of the day was 
whether to order rosé, white or champagne with lunch while 
checking out the great bobbing yachts and the strutting jeunes 
filles," says Neiman. “No wonder Robbins spun off his delight- 
ful vignette. C'est magique! Et incroyable!” 

Let's get stupid. Mike Judge did, and now he's a 33-year-old 
millionaire. The creator of MTV's Beavis and Butt-head is re- 
sponsible for four years’ worth of moronic geek chic that he 
hopes to cap with this month's B&B movie. Kevin Cook sat with 
Judge for a spastic 20 Questions about frog baseball, hawking 
оп burgers and butt-munching. News flash: Beavis and Butt- 
head will never get laid. Oddly enough, the boys like Prince 
Charles—you know, that tampon remark—but our resident 
crank, Robert 5. Wieder, thinks otherwise. That Was the Year That 
Was is Wieder's rant on everyone from the Unabomber to O.]. 
and everything from melatonin to bonin’. 

For a wrap-up that's easy on the eyes, don't neglect Playboy's 
Playmate Review, a final look at our flirty dozen. There's also a 
last chance at holiday gifts in our Eleventh-Hour Santa. We de- 
but a new page this month, Health & Füness: all you need to 
stay buff and well. Forward-looking types can turn to fashion 
for alternatives to traditional tuxedos, and we'll all want to 
wash behind our ears for Playmate Jami Ferrell. Jami hails from 
the Midwest and was working as a nanny in Malibu when she 
caught our eye. Hers is the perfect bedtime story. 


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PLAYBOY. 


vol. 44, no. I—january 1997 CONTENTS FOR THE MEN'S ENTERTAINMENT MAGAZINE 
PLAYBILL . 5 
DEAR PLAYBOY Я, 7 
PLAYBOY AFTER HOURS. . a 
STYLE... Abe Т 
MOVIES . BRUCE WILLIAMSON 25 
VIDEOR e АЕ 27 
WIRED .. в 
MUSIC 30 
TRAVEL . я 52 
BOOKS........ ..DIGBY DIEHL 33 Marilyn Forever 
HEALTH & FITNESS . Sois pate Re KA 
MEN E я кт ASABABER 36 
WOMEN... CYNTHIA HEIMEL 37 
THE PLAYBOY ADVISOR. . 39 
THE PLAYBOY FORUM .. 41 
PLAYBOY INTERVIEW: WHOOP! GOLDBERG—candid conversation 51 
BLAST FROM THE PAST-fiction.................- RAYMOND BENSON во 
MAFIA MOLE—article .... ae BOB DRURY 6 
KLAN BUSTER . La 182 
THE NUDE MARILYN—pictorial . E by JOHN UPDIKE вв Bond Is Bock. 
A SEX BESTIARY—humor .. КЕЛЛИ . GEORGE PLIMPTON — 84 
DOES GOD HAVE ORGASMS?—article .DEEPAK CHOPRA 88 
TUX REDUX—fashion. .. HOLLIS WAYNE 82 
THE PORT OF ST. TROPEZ—fiction... . = .- HAROLD ROBBINS — 98 
TUCK US IN—ployboy's playmate of the month... ? 102 
PARTY JOKES—humor 114 
CON DOCTOR—fiction .. p.e . JAY MCINERNEY 116 
PLAYBOY GALLERY: SAIVADOR DALÍ м NUDES ... nm ОЕ 119 
PARTY TOYS—entertaining 120 
PLAYMATE REVISITED: LISA WINTERS _ B 125 
SAVE MONEY, CUT CRIME, GET REAL— symposium 128 
THE YEAR IN SEX—pictorial . n pas 130 
THE ELEVENTH-HOUR SANTA—gifts . 141 
PLAYBOY'S PLAYMATE REVIEW—picto! 146 


++ ROBERT 5. WIEDER 158 
BILL MAHER 161 


THAT WAS THE YEAR THAT WAS—humor. 
BILL MAHER, PI.—humor ..... 


PLAYBOY JAZZ & ROCK POLL . 162 
20 QUESTIONS: MIKE JUDGE . 168 
WHERE & HOW TO BUY .... 184 
PLAYBOY ON THE SCENE. 201 


COVER STORY 

Is there a more timeless beouty than Marilyn Monroe? We don’t think there is. 

And John Updike, who wrote the text for this special pictoriol, agrees. Photog- 

ropher Bert Stern, who shot some of her fomous nudes, labels Marilyn "a 

p spirit." We'd call that o Monroe doctrine for the 20th century—ond be- 
anal Our cover was photographed by Milton H. Greene, © 1994 The Ar- 

сө of Milton Н. Greene, L.L.C. Our Rabbit knows there's no hare opporent. 


GENERAL OFFICES: PLAYBOY, вво NORTH LAKE SHORE DRIVE. CHICAGO, ILLINOIS 80611 PLAYBOY ASSUMES NO RESPONSIBILITY TO RETURN UNSOLICITED ECITORIAL OR GRAPHIC OF OTHER MA 


ARETRIEVAL SYSTEM OR TRANSMITTED IN ANY FORM EY ANY ELECTRONIC: MECHANICAL, PHOTOCOPYING OR RECORDING MEANS OR OTHERWISE WITHOUT PRION WITTE 
DISKER. ANY SIMILARIEY BETWEEN THE PEOPLE AND PLACES IN THE FICTION ANG SEMUFICTION IN THIS MAGAZINE AÑO ANY REAL PEOPLE А ES IS PURELY COINCIDENTAL, FOR CREDITS 
SE PAGE 184 FRANHLIN MINT OUTBERT IN COMESTIC SUBSCRIPTION POLYWNAPTED COMES CBG INSERT BETWEEN PAGES 24-25 AND BMG 

Domestic SUBSCRIPTION COMES, CENTIFIcAGD DE LEITUD Be TITULO NO, Taye DEFECHA зв DF JULIO DE 1993, Y CERTIFCAGO OF LICITUO OF CONTENIDO NO 3100 OE FICHA 29 OE JULIO DE 


PRINTED IN U.S.A. 


PLAYBOY 


DIEM 


EN 


The Newest Installment of Enigma's 


Carnal Other Worldly Sound. 


featuring “Beyond The Invisible" 


In stores everywhere or to order by phone call 
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The Cross Of Changes 


THE 
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PLAYBOY 


HUGH M. HEFNER 
editor-in-chief 


ARTHUR KRETCHMER editorial director 
JONATHAN BLACK managing editor 
TOM STAEBLER art director 
GARY COLE photography director 
KEVIN BUCKLEY executive editor 
JOHN REZEK assistant managing editor 


EDITORIAL 

ARTICLES: STEPHEN RANDALI editor; FICTIO! 
ALICE K TURNER editor; FORUM: JAMES R. PF. 
TERSEN senior staff writer; CHIP ROWE assistant 
editor; MODERN LIVING: DAVID STEVENS edi- 
tor; BETH TOMKIW associate editor; STAFF: BRUCE 
KLUGER senior editor; CHRISTOPHER NAPOLITANO, 
BARBARA NELLIS associate editors; FASHION: 
HOLLIS WAYNE director; JENNIFER RYAN JONES 
assistant editor; CARTOONS: MICHELLE URRY 
editor; COPY: LEOPOLD FROEHLICH editor; ARLAN 
BUSHMAN assistant editor; ANNE SHERMAN copy 
associate; REMA SMITH senior researcher; LEE 
BRAUER. SARI WILSON researchers; CONTRIBUT- 
ING EDITOR: ASA BABER, KEVIN COOK, 
GRETCHEN EDGREN, LAWRENCE GROBEL, KEN GROSS 
(automotive). CYNTHIA HEIMEL, WARREN KAL- 
BACKER, D. KEITH MANO, JOE MORGENSTERN, REG 
POTTERTON, DAVID RENSIN, DAVID SHEFF, DAVID 
STANDISH, BRUCE WILLIAMSON (movies) 


ART 
KERIG POPE managing director; BRUCE HANSEN, 
CHET suski, LEN WILLIS senior directors; KRISTIN 
KORJENEK associate director; ANN SFIDI. supervi- 
sor. keyline/pasteup: PAUL CHAN senior art assis- 
lant; MAIRE KENNEDY art assistant 


PHOTOGRAPHY 
MARILYN GRABOWSKI West coast editor; JIM LAR- 
SOW, MICHAEL ANN SULLIVAN senior editors; FATTY 
BEAUDET associate editor; STEPHANIE BARNETT, 
BETH MULLINS assistant edilors; DAVID CHAN. 
RICHARD FEGLEY. ARNY FREYTAG, RICHARD IZUI 
DAVID MECEY, BYRON NEWMAN. POMPEO POSAR. 
STEPHEN WAYDA contributing photographers; 
SHELLEE WELLS siylist; TIM HAWKINS manager, 
photo services; ELIZABETH GEORGIOU photo ar- 
chivisi; GERALD SENN correspondent—paris 


RICHARD KINSLER publisher 


PRODUCTION 
MARIA MANDIS director; RITA JOHNSON manager; 
KATHERINE CAMPION, JODY JURGETO, RICHARD 
QUARTAROLL TOM SINONEK associate managers 


CIRCULATION 
LARRY A. DJERF newsstand sales director; PHYLLIS 
ROTUNNO subscription circulation director, CINDY 
RAKOWITZ communications director 


ADVERTISING 
ERNIE RENZULLI advertising director; JUDY BERK- 
owrrz national projects director; jor HOFFER 
midwest ad sales manager; IRV KORNBLAV market- 
ing director; LISA NATALE research director 


READER SERVICE 
LINDA STROM, NIKE OSTROWSKI Correspondents 


ADMINISTRATIVE 
EILEEN KENT new media director; MARCIA TER- 
RONES rights € permissions manager 


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


PLAYBOY ¥ 


More than 500 of the World's Most Memorable Women 


инш Bank 


MORE THAN 1000 PHOTOS, 
MANY NEVER BEFORE PUBLISHED 
NupiTY 

INCLUDES MORE THAN 500 PLAYMATES 
PLAYMATE FACTS AND RECENT PHOTOS 


Book# 
LB5328 


—HUGH HEFNER 


THE PLAYBOY PLAYMATE IS A CULTURAL ICON. NOW FOR THE FIRST 
TIME EVER, PLAYBOY HAS OPENED THE PLAYBOY ARCHIVES AND 
ASSEMBLED THIS BOOK FEATURING INCREDIBLE PHOTOGRAPHY OF 
EVERY PLAYMATE FROM THE FIRST ISSUE TO THE PRESENT DAY. THE 
BOOK CONTAINS ORIGINAL PHOTOS OF MORE THAN 500 PLAYMATES, 
NUDE PICTORIALS, NEVER-BEFORE-PUBLISHED PICTURES AND 
SNAPSHOTS FROM HUGH HEFNER’S PERSONAL PHOTO ALBUM. As 

A SPECIAL BONUS, RECENT PHOTOS AND UP-TO-THE-MINUTE FACTS 
PROVIDE A LOOK AT THE PAST AND PRESENT LIVES OF MANY OF YOUR 
FAVORITE PLAYMATES. THE PLAYMATE Book IS A UNIQUE TRIBUTE 
TO, AND MEMENTO OF, THE WORLD’S MOST ALLURING WOMEN. 
INTRODUCTION BY HUGH M. HEFNER. HARDCOVER. NUDITY. COLOR 
AND BLACK-AND-WHITE PHOTOS. 9" x 12". 384 PAGES. 


Order Toll-Free 800-423-9494 


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DEAR PLAYBOY 


680 NORTH LAKE SHORE DRIVE 
CHICAGO, ILLINOIS 60611 
FAX 312-649-9534 
‘EMAIL DEARPR@PLAYBOYCOM 
PLEASE INCLUDE YOUR DAYTIME PHONE NUMBER. 


ASA SCORES 
Kudos to Asa Baber ("My Future Cen- 
terfolds," Men, October) for brilliantly 
summing up the North American male 
experience in one glorious and poig- 
nant page. 
Denis Moquin 
Frankford, Ontario 


I don't know if a Son's Day exists, but 
would it be so awful? Any way you lock 
atit, a special day with our kids is a good 
thing. 

David Merrill 
Phoenix, Arizona 


For years, while the angry, noisy wing 
of American feminism has bashed us as 
oppressors and Neanderthals, there has 
been one voice of reason that has spoken 
perceptively and eloquently about men 
in America. PLAYBOY should be com- 
mended for giving that voice a forum. 
Asa Baber isn't only a guy's best friend 
but also a friend to women who are just 
as tired of the never-ending battle of 
gender politics. 

Bernard Goldberg 
Miami, Florida 


CHANZ ENCOUNTER 
About a year ago, I saw a special on 

the E! network about PLAYBOY Contribut- 
ing Photographer Arny Freytag. Since 
then, I've scoured every issue for the 
stunning lady whose photos he was tak- 
ing during the segment. My search has 
finally ended. It turns out Miss October, 
Nadine Chanz, was the subject. I'm will- 
ing to wait until next June to see her 
again as Playmate of the Year. 

Bill Roberts 

Kansas City, Missouri 


BASEBALL REDUX 

I'm sure many readers are eagerly 
awaiting your coverage of Kevin Cook's 
upcoming meal. We haven't forgotten 
that in the preseason rundown of the 
baseball teams (May 1996), Cook said 


that if Dante Bichette and Vinny Castilla 
combined again this season for 70 home 
runs and 200 RBI, he would eat yellow 
snow. Kevin, I hope you're whetting 
your appetite. 


Ken Bingenheimer 
KenDBin@aol.com 
Denver, Colorado 


Dante Bichette and Vinny Castilla's 
combined stats are 71 home runs and 
254 RBI. Please tell Kevin Cook that De- 
cember and January are great months 
here in Colorado to find the needed in- 
gredients for his meal. 

Mike Wolford 
Aurora, Colorado 


I READ IT FOR THE ARTICLES 
Eight years ago, I walked into my 

brother's bedroom and saw an issue of 
PLAYBOY. The cover line tempted me to 
read the interview with one of my fa- 
vorite comedians. When 1 finished, 1 
flipped through the rest of the magazine 
and found lots of interesting articles. 1 
subscribed the next day. I'ma heterosex- 
ual woman and would like to say that I'm 
among those who really do read PLAYBOY 
for the articles. 

Amanda Naus 

Bana@worldnet.att.net 

Cedarburg, Wisconsin 


CHIN UP 
Nice guys don't always finish last. Jay 
Leno's fate (Interview, October) seemed a 
little shaky there for a while, but I'm glad 
he's on solid ground now. I'm so sick of 
smarmy David Letterman 1 could puke. 
Even if Jay isn’t to your liking, at least he 
doesn't expend his energy trying to 
make his guests look like idiots. 
Maria Spring 
Chicago, Illinois 


NATURAL WOMEN 

I want to congratulate you for the pos- 
itive trend I’ve noticed in the maga- 
zine—featuring Playmates with naturally 


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Use your credit cord ond be sure їо include your account 
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order poyable to Playboy. Mail to Playboy, PO. Box 809, 
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17 


PLAYBOY 


beautiful bodies. Your choice of nonen- 
hanced models sends a healthy signal to 
countless women who look to PLAYBOY as 
a standard of beauty. 

Scott Donahue 

Charlotte, North Carolina 


COMPUTER MAGIC 
The Compleat Cyberstudent (October) en- 

dorses the HP Pavilion 7130P computer, 
but the monitor shown in the photo is 
dearly running Netscape Navigator for 
Macintosh. The photo editors air- 
brushed the Apple logo in the upper left- 
corner, but they didn't fool me. 

Richard Elet 

ricky47@pacbell.net 

Lawndale, California 

We figured some reader would pick up on 

our digital trickery. The truth is, PLAYBOY is 
created on Macintosh computers and for sim- 
plicitys sake, we took a photo of our Web site 
on a Mac screen, dropped it onto the Hewlett- 
Packard monitor during production and ran 
with it. There was no airbrushing involved. 
We do fess, however, to a little Photoshop 
manipulation. 


SEX SURVEY 
Playboy's College Sex Survey (October) 
is interesting, informative and fun. It 
makes me want to quit my job and go 
back to school. 
Richbo Weatherby 
Belleville, Illinois 


Twice in the College Sex Survey article 
you printed accounts of rape but don't 
mention that’s what they are. While I 
understood, I’m wondering if everybody 
else did. Certainly women don’t need 
your readers thinking that there’s no 
difference between consensual sex 
and rape. 

Jaime Shultz 
Las Vegas, Nevada 


"The sex survey says only four percent 
of the women told lies to get sex. Does 
that mean the other 96 percent were 
honest? 

‘Tom Wilanowski 
tomasz@rsbs.anu.edu.au 
Canberra, Australia 


GIRLS OF THE BIG 12 
Tear off your helmets and do the 
Macarena in the end zone. Your 40th An- 
niversary Pigskin Preview is great. While 
Nebraska may be the best football team 
in the Big 12, the Girls of the Big 12 (Oc- 
tober) are the best anywhere. 
Jame Theising 
Aaron Conley 
James Monson 
Brady, Nebraska 


I'm not trying to tell you how to do 
your job, but you should get on down to 
‘Texas for another look at Amy Schrader. 

Mark McNulty 
Hughestown, Pennsylvania 


DUELING COVERS 
I prefer October's Samantha Fox cov- 
er. The Bunny costume still screams 
TLAYbOY, even after all these years. 
Larry Leitner 
Westland, Michigan 


Your U.S. cover is very creative, but 
one look at the international cover of 
Samantha Fox and I feel slighted. 

Mark Anderson 
Austin, Texas 


I'm glad only one version is available 
in my area. I'd hate have to choose. 
Michael Bath 
Tallahassee, Florida 


Samantha Fox might be a bigger 
celebrity in the U.K. and Canada, but a 
sexy cover is a sexy cover—and her cov- 
er beats Jennifer Allan’s hands down. 
‘There is a moderately sized but hard- 


core base of Sam fans here in the States 
who would kill for a copy of the overseas 
magazine. 
John Clark 
jehnge@tribeca.ios.com 
Houston, Texas 


It’s great to see September Playmate 
Jennifer Allan going for extra points on 
the October cover. She'd look great in 
any conference jersey. 

Spencer Leech 
103623.2555@compuserve.com 
Annapolis, Maryland 


Thank God I live in Canada. The in- 
ternational edition is sure to be a sellout 
as the Yanks invade to get the better of 
the two covers. 

Mike Kurelicz 
mkurelic@mail.direct.ca 
North Vancouver, British Columbia 


Jennifer Allan is absolutely beautiful, 
but I think “they” got the better cover. I 


wish you would offer the Samantha Fox 
cover to your U.S. subscribers. 
Clay Moore 
cmoore@cyberport.com 
Farmington, New Mexico 
U.S. readers can order the issue of Playboy 
with Samantha Fox on the cover by calling 
our catalog at 800-345-6066 or 800-423- 
9494. We have a limited supply, so hurry. 


TWICE AS NICE 
Playboy Gallery and Playmate Revisited 
are great ways to showcase the beautiful 
women who have appeared in the maga- 
zine over the years as well as the talented 
artists behind the camera. 
Charles О. Clay HI 
Long Beach, California 


Donna Michelle (Playmate Revisited, 
October) is the most beautiful Playmate 
ever featured, Did you notice that she 
and Nicolette Sheridan could be twins? 

Jeremiah Daniels 
telstar43@msn.com 
Miami Beach, Florida 


MILITIA JUSTICE REVISITED 

Га like to comment on your Septem- 
ber 1996 article Justice, Militia Style. Au- 
thor T.C. Brown confuses militias with 
the Freemen and their common-law 
courts. The Freemen sometimes call 
themselves sovereigns, but the militia 
groups are constitutional. Freemen have 
renounced their citizenship and have re- 
fused to recognize the federal govern- 
ment. Militias recognize the power given 
to the federal government by the Consti- 
tution and work within the system to 
bring about change. In Freemen society, 
women have no authority. Black people 
are not recognized as citizens. Bank ac- 
counts, zip codes and license plates are 
eschewed. None of these things are true 
of militias. I hope this helps clarify our 
differences. 


Carolyn Hart, С: 
Missouri 51st М! 
Versailles, Missouri 


HELLO FROM THE GULF 
"This letter comes from the U.S.S. En- 

terprise in the Gulf. There are approxi- 
mately 225 people in our unit, the ma- 
jority of whom are rLAvpoy subscribers. 
‘Although we've been in a lot of ports, 
we're convinced that American wom- 
еп are the greatest in the world, and 
PLAYBOY proves that time and again. The 
guys from Strike Fighter Squadron 81 
want to send a special thanks to Richard 
Fegley for the photos of the wonderful 
Miss July, Angel Boris. 

Kevin D. Towler 

cdurrett@enterprise.navy.mil 

VFA-81 


USN 
El 


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PLAYBOY AFTER HOURS 


HOGGING THE NET 


Whether it’s on the interstate or on 
the Internet, bikers will be bikers. At 
least that’s the conclusion we reached af- 
ter visiting the official Harley-Davidson 
Web page, which bears the greeting: 
“Welcome to the Harley-Davidson World- 
wide Web site, now go away.” Right, we 
were just leaving. 


PSYCHE CHANNELING 


Nick-at-Night's resident TV shrink, 
Will Miller, has assembled his analyses of 
the psychological twists and turns of 
popular television shows into a volume 
you can place right next to The Interpreta- 
lion of Dreams. His book, Why We Watch: 
Killing the Cilligan Within (Fireside/Si 
mon & Schuster), puts such shows as The 
Addams Family, Batman, Beavis & Butt-head 
and Frasier on the couch to crack their 
psychic codes. Even better, Miller shows 
us how to work through our individual 
and collective issues using “teletherapy.” 
Check the chapter titled “Television and 
Fear of Death: Scooby Doo and the Flint- 
stones’ Doomsday Scenario” or the 
enlightening “Television and Codepen- 
dence: Lassie's Undisturbed Uncon- 
scious.” In the same way traditional ther- 
apy encourages the patient to relive 
moments of his life, Miller says, “I be- 
lieve the American television rerun is the 
path to personal peace.” 


FOR WHOM THE ВЕШ TOLLS 


We decided not to wait until Father’s 
Day to share how Melia Belli—the 20-ish 
daughter of flamboyant lawyer Melvin 
Belli—processed her father's passing. 
Rather than go to the funeral, which she 
termed "not necessary," she posted a 
message on the Hub wcb site from India: 
“As far as Lam concerned, when the spir- 
it leaves the body, all that is left is a sog- 
gy, empty encasing.” So she smoked a 
chillum on the roof and later got “really 
high” on hash cookies with her boy- 
friend (a 40-year-old “veterinarian cum 
body piercer cum astral surfer”). The 
happy couple also took a two-day trek 
through the Himalayas—the highlights 
of which were a “screaming orgasm atop 


a mountain” (fueled by microdot acid) 
and the discovery of “the fundamental 
meaning of tie-dye” after gazing at 
clouds. However, the trip down was a bit 
turbulent, largely because the couple 
was “unable to distinguish the mountain 
trail from the cerebral one." Belli warns 
us that she is heading back this way. 
“Fortunately, I have been blessed with 
the gift of being able to find the humor 
in death and human excrement oozing 
between my toes.” Gee, we hope we 
don’t have the seat next to hers on the 
flight home. 


NAMES IN VAIN 


Sounds like a good place for a church 
picnic: A Christian group in Kentucky 
called Answers in Genesis has applied 
for permission to build a creationism 
museum near Big Bone Lick. 


ROB ROY 


The St. Louis Art Museum, which 
lcaned Roy Lichtenstein's Curtains to the 
Whitney Museum of American Art in 
New York, is suing an independent secu- 
rity company and the man it hired for 


ILLUSTRATION BY GARY KELLEY 


damage caused by that security guard's 
felt-tipped marker. In addition to draw- 
ing a heart inscribed “Reggic + Crystal" 
on the canvas, the guard was inspired to 
write to his sweetie, “I love you, Tushec. 
Love, Buns.” We hope he realizes, in 
hindsight, that some mysteries of love 
are better left unexpressed. 


HOMO ERECTUS 


For many years, archaeologists have 
been mystified by prehistoric objects 
thought to be early tools. Common in 
Upper Paleolithic art, the Stone Age 
shafts have been described as ritual ob- 


jects, batons or even spear straighteners. 


But British archaeologist Timothy Tay- 
lor offers a simpler interpretation of 
the carved phalluses. “These batons fall 
within the size range of dildos,” Taylor 
told The Guardian. “It seems disingenu- 
ous to avoid the most obvious explana- 
tion.” Taylor suggests other archaeolo- 
gists are too prudish when they hit the 
boneyard. “I believe,” said Taylor, “that 
this unease stems from a modern belief 
that premodern sex was essentially a re- 
productive activity, and that if it wasn't, it 
ought to have been." 


HUGH, CAD 


Ina low blow to the much-mocked ac- 
tor, Jody Tressider—author of Hugh 
Grant: The Biography—claims the stutter 
ing stud was always a randy fellow. Tres- 
sider was one of Grant's girlfriends in 
high school, and she claims he relied on 
a pack of pick-up lines to woo teen 
lovelies. The most direct? "You're as 
clever as you are beautiful. I must kiss 
you.” His other come-ons included: 
girlfriend doesn't understand me"; 
you have the slightest idea what D.H 
Lawrence is going on about? I don't 
think you're going to break my heart”; 
and “You're much cleverer than I am, 
aren't you?” Well, as they say, one of 
these lines and $50 will get you a date 
with Divine Brown 


IT TAKES A VILLAGE 


It had to happen. Things on the Net 
Newt Wouldn't Want You to See (Of Color 


p 


22 


RAW DATA 


SIGNIFICA, INSIGNIFICA, STATS AND FACTS j 


QUOTE 

“Tve already been 
with every fine girl 
there is in the world. 
"There's no one else. 
I've even French- 
kissed Christy Tur- 
lingron.”—MODEL 
JENNY SHIMIZU 


HATS OFF 

Average num- 
ber of behead- 
ings per month in 
Saudi Arabia in 
1995: 20.2. Average 
number per month 
in 1996: 1.5. 


FACT OF THE MONTH 


CRIMINAL ELEMENTS 

According to a re- 
cent poll, percentage 
of Americans watch- 
ing a trial who as- 
sume the defendant can't be trusted: 
24. Percentage who assume the de- 
fendant's lawyer can't be trusted: 29. 


WHAT'S YOUR SIGN-ON? 
According to an MCI survey of 
Americans wired to the Internet, per- 
centage with the astrological sign 
Taurus: 18. Percentage of Pisceans 
and Virgos (the signs with the lowest 
rankings) online: 4 each 


MS. DR. 

Percentage of physicians in the 
U.S. who are women: 20. Percentage 
of American Medical Association 
members who are women: B. Percent- 
age of medical students who are 
women: 40. 


UNHAPPY CRAMPERS 
According to Tampax, average 
number of tampons used by a woman 
during her lifetime; 7488. Number of 
days in her lifetime that a typical 
woman spends menstruating: 2480 
(almost seven years), 


FIELDS OF GREEN 
According to Financial World, value 
of the average major league baseball 
franchise; $115 million. Value of the 
average National Football League 
franchise: $174 million. 


In 1995, computer owners 
in the U.S. lost about $640 
million as a result of stolen 
laptop computers. 


THE WRITE STUFF 
Number of screen- 
plays (including 
scripts for TV) 
registered with 
the Writers Guild 
of America, West 
in 1995: 32,000. 
Number of Hol- 
lywood movies 
made: 280. 


FLYING TO THE 

LAND OF NOD 
According to a 
survey commis- 
© sioned by the British 
Airline Pilots Associ- 
ation in 1995, per- 
centage of pilots who 
say they have fallen 
asleep while at the 
controls: 40. 


LONE STAR PRIDE 
Percentage of Texas teenagers who 
do not know that gasoline comes 
from oil: 62. 


CARTS, WHEELS 
Number of children injured annu- 
ally in falls from shopping carts: 
25.000. Number of hospital visits by 
people with in-line skating injuries in 
1995: 100.000. 


NEW LEASE ON LIFERS 
"The number of U.S. prison inmates 
оп death row or serving life sentences 
who have been exonerated through 
DNA tests on old evidence: 30. 


GAS GUZZLERS 

According to a survey conducted 
for the manufacturers of Axid AR, a 
heartburn medication, city in the U.S. 
with the highest incidence of heart- 
burn: Detroit (19.2 percent). Rank of 
Los Angeles: 6th (14.5 percent). Rank 
of New York: 9th (10.9 percent). 


SINGLED OUT 
Number of never-married Ameri- 
cans in 1970: 21.4 million. Number 
in 1994: 44.2 million. Number of 
Americans described as currently di- 
vorced in 1970: 4.3 million. In 1994: 
17.4 million. —PAUL ENGLEMAN 


Press) isa collection of Web addresses for 
the Internet surfer who is thrilled by the 
art, history and culture sites but keeps 
asking himself, “Where are all the naked 
pictures and stuff like that?” This book 
will help you find such compelling sites 
as rectal foreign bodies, the roadkill 
quarterly, the gay hankie code, the in- 
flatable pet page, the virtual sorority 
party pages, Hoor's best breasts and the 
catfight pic of the week. Then there are 
entrées into pro and amateur porn 
spots. To cover its tail completely, the 
book also gives advice on how to keep 
underage cybercitizens from wandering 
into inappropriate territory. 


THE PASSING OF THE SHREW 


Let's hope this will serve as a bright 
spot on his résumé: The Journal of Ar- 
chaeological Science reported the lengths 
to which an assistant researcher went to 
help solve a problem that was baffling 
his boss. The research director wanted 
to determine whether small bones found 
ata dig were those ofan animal that died 
there or the remains of an animal that 
had been eaten by an animal which died 
there. The assistant researcher was given 
a boiled shrew—bones and all—to eat, 
and his bowel movements were moni- 
tored for the next three days. It turns 
out that the shrew bones were so ho- 
mogenized in the assistant’s stool that 
the director was able to conclude that 
the hones found were those of an animal 
that died at the site. Who says historical 
research is slow-moving? 


TIES THAT DINE 


A cynical company in Dallas has come 
up with Tie Cuisine, a line of 15 silk 
tics in designs that are patterned after 
food stains. The ties, which address the 
perennial male problem of spillage, are 
available in styles including Chinese 
Food, Wine, Pizza, Buffalo Wings, Cor- 
dials, Salad and Dessert and Club Sand- 
wich. The spring line will indude Tacos 
and Quesadillas and, for everyday wear, 
Soup du Jour. 


SIGHT GAG 


According to the Times of London, 
Princess Diana has decorated her per- 
sonal Kensington Palace bathroom in a 
classic hell-hath-no-fury motif: The walls 
sport a dozen framed cartoons of her 
ex's paramour, Camilla Parker-Bowles. 
And we thought someone prone to bu- 
limia wouldn't need a visual emetic. 


BALKAN POLITICS 


We're not sure what this means, but a 
friend who grew up in Yugoslavia ex- 
plains that “dole” in Serbo-Croatian 
means down and “gore” means up. We 
point this out merely as a public ser- 
vice and not as any sort of postelection 
comment. 


RECIPES FOR GOOD D 


Jerry “The Professor" Thomas 
invented thousands of cocktails 
He worked behind the bar at the 


Occidental Hotel in San Francisco 


Enjoy your Martini with a 
generous splash of self-restraint. 


during the Gold Rush. Legend has it, 
a miner on his way to Martinez, 
California, once tossed a gold nugget 


onto the bar and asked for something 

special. Jerry stirred him up a glass 

of gin and vermouth and called the 

cocktail the “Martinez” It caught on 
The name evolved. By the 

1920's, it was known as the Martini. 

It became the drink of choice for 

sophisticated drinkers from coast to 

coast and is today the most famous 

cocktail ever created. 


AND DRINKERS 


The Martini is a direct link 
between you, the Gold Rush and 
Jerry Thomas. Sip your next one 
Really taste it. And do right by The 
Professor — enjoy your Martini with 
а generous splash of self-restraint 
After all, it's hard to taste anything if 


you've had too much of it. Cheers! 


Seagram 


1665 Joseph E Seagram А Sons, Ine. NY. NY. 


When a San Franciscan named 
Jerry Thomas invented the Martini 
in 1857, he was not trying to 


2 таке the town апу foggier. 


24 


5 STYLE 


SMOKIN’ JACKETS HOT SHOPPING: KETCHUM, IDAHO 


Now that guys are puffing on stogies again, smoking jackets Near Sun Valley's spectacular ski slopes, in the shadow of Bald 
are back in style. Worn at home for informal entertaining Mountain, you'll find this vibrant Old West town. Filled with 
since the mid-1800s, smoking jackets are traditionally made shops, galleries, res- 
from luxurious fabrics such as velvet or satin, and feature a — taurants and night 
See РУТИН CLOTHES LINE 
can go the luxe route by ordering a handmade silk jacket with some high-profile WERTE ҮҮ ГҮҮ 
a tapestry pattern of birds and flowers ($1500 and up). Back- celebs (do Demi and | E N СЫА 
ground colors are navy or wine (pictured) and details include Bruce ring a bell?) БАИ КУИ ES 


satin lapels, satin-piped pockets and a enjoy low-profile ie na 
cheted holidays. Board Bin screen, the star of An 
Dunhill, purveyor of great (180 Fourth St.): A SENSE 
cigars, also makes a great- funky little hangout mian and Showtime's 
looking brown cotton velvet with a full range of MM * | original movie Inside 
smoking jacket with silk frog snowboard supplies is a less regimented 
closures ($795). Brioni has and cool streetwear dicit te 
two shawl-collar looks: a in rich, deep colors é jacket is a black wool- 
hunter green silk velour ® Ketchum Dry b and-silk zip-front 
version with quilted lapels Goods (511 E. Sun model by Masatomo 
and a silk satin lining Valley Rd.): Jeans that has a purple dia- 
($1650); and a navy cotton from around the mond design across 
velour model with yellow globe, as well as True the chest. The actor. 
piping and a paisley silk Grit shirt jackets and also loves his Italian 
lining ($1650). Fernando premiere shirts from leather slip-on shoes, 


Sanchez shawl-collar velvet London's Ted Baker Ж ИШЛЕ CU 
jacket with braid trim is ® Lost River Ou- “because |'ve had them so long the 
available in black or bur- fitters (171 N. Main [E CTS 
gundy, faced in black (about 50): Great gear for ИТИ ИН ЕЕ 
$800). And American de- winter fly-fishing БАШ ТТЛ ШС СҮ! 
signer Robert Talbott, known for his luxurious ties, uses many and adventure trav- БШШ E ele Sr 
of his neckwear fabrics to create equally sharp smoking jack- cl. e The Casino ШӘ Г 

ets. We like his handmade silk black-and-white houndstooth Club (220 N 


model, which has shawl lapels in black silk satin or faille Main St). All 
($1300 to $1700). Р m paths cross at this 1936 honky-tonk, a former Heming- 


way haunt that's still the best watering hole in town. 


SUITS IN A STRETCH ” 


Spandex, Lycra and other synthetic fabrics that 
typically add stretch and comfort to gym 
clothes are now doing the same things for 
men's suits. Donna Karan has mixed nylon 
and spandex with wool to create a super- 
soft, black single-breasted suit jacket 
($895) and matching flat-front pants 
($395). Richard Tyler offers a slim brown 
stretch sharkskin jacket ($1795) and 
matching boot-cut pants ($690) made from 
acetate and Lycra. There's a slim-fitted 
wool, nylon and spandex glen-plaid suit 
in Gianfranco Ferre’s lower-priced Gief- 
feffe line ($725). And Boss-Hugo Boss 
goes for a subtle stretch by adding a hint 
of Lycra to its black-and-white four-button 
mini-houndstooth-check wool suit ($1100). 


EASY GREASY 


The slicked-back look (a la Nicolas Cage at 
last year’s Oscars) is asharp way to wear your 
hair on New Year's Eve. To achieve it, try 
some pomade—today's version of old-style 
hair oil. Dax Short and Neat is made the 
authentic way with petroleum jelly and 
mineral oil. The Body Shop's Coconut Oil 
Hair Shine is an aromatic concoction of 
vegetable oils and carnauba wax, Aveda's 
oil-based Pure-fume Brilliant Anti-Humec- 
tant Pomade is perfect for making wavy or 
curly hair behave. Adventurous types will 
love Oribe's tinted pomades in wild colors 
such as gold, silver and blue. And for a slick 3 
look and excellent hold without the greasy feel, 
try American Crew’s water-based pomade. 


eS 


ойт 


SWEATERS IN 


Cowl necks; elbow patches; horn buttons; 
Henley- and shawl-collar styles 


Jewel tones such өз emerald green or ruby 
red; scrotchy acrylics; shoggy boudes 


Bag the ultroboggy looks and bulky styles tied 
around the shoulders 


Slim silhouettes; ribbed turtlenecks; ski styles; 
zip-necks ond V-necks 


STYLES 


Color-blocked primary brights; camel; winter 
white; merino or boiled wool; cashmere 


COLORS AND FABRICS 


Try о fitted turtleneck under a suit jocket or pull 
HOW TO WEAR ONE o V-neck over o T-shirt 


Where & How to Buy on poge 184. 


MOVIES 


By BRUCE WILLIAMSON 


FINE LINE'S Shine is an enchanting movie 
by writer Jan Sardi and director Scott 
Hicks. This essentially true story intro- 
duces Geoffrey Rush, a splendid Aus- 
tralian stage actor, as classical pianist 
David Helfgott (portrayed movingly in 
childhood and young manhood by Alex 
Rafalowicz and Noah Taylor). Despite a 
cruel father (Armin Mueller-Stahl) who 
treats his prodigy's keyboard genius as a 
personal treasure, young David severs 
family ties to attend a music school in 
London, only to fall into the hands of yet 
another demanding mentor (John Giel- 
gud, compelling as usual). The film is 
told in flashbacks, beginning with the 
mature Helfgott's return to Australia as 
a stammering middle-aged mental case 
who smokes nonstop and is cautioned by 
psychiatrists to keep his mind off music. 
Only when he wanders away to resume 
his virtuoso piano playing at a neighbor- 
hood pub does he begin to reconnect 
with the real world—redeemed when he 
wows the blue-collar clientele and catch- 
es the eye and ear ofan astrologer (Lynn 
Redgrave). Small-scale but awesome in 
impact, Shme is a musical surprise. ¥¥¥¥ 
. 


As message movies go, Citizen Ruth (Mi- 
ramax) is a corrosively funny first fea- 
ture that treats the abortion issue with 
satirical spirit. Writer-director Alexan- 
der Payne (with co-author Jim Taylor) 
wrings black comedy from the plight of a 
pregnant, drug-addicted drifter named 
Ruth Stoops (played to perfection by 
Laura Dern), who falls into the hands of 
four avidly pro-life housewives just back 
from picketing an abortion clinic. Be- 
fore the subsequent tug-of-war runs its 
course, poor Ruth is barricaded in and 
besieged by zealots on both sides of 
the argument with offers of moral sup- 
port and cash compensation. Will she or 
won't she agree to abort? Either way, she 
just wants to collect the money and run. 
Among the baleful influences at work on 
her is a cast of near-caricatures, taken 
to the edge by Burt Reynolds, Swoosie 
Kurtz, Kurtwood Smith, Kelly Preston 
and Mary Kay Place. Citizen Ruth seems 
likely to irk both pro-life and pro-choice 
extremists. ¥¥¥ 


The Crucible (Twentieth Century Fox) is 
sure to be one of the best films of 
the year. English director Nicholas Hyt- 
ner's vibrant and compelling version 
of the Arthur Miller play—adapted for 
the screen by Miller himself—turns the 
Salem witch trials of 1692 into an unfor- 
gettable statement about sin, rabid fun- 
damentalism and mass hysteria, While 


Scofield, Graves: Conflicted in Crucible. 


Music makers chiming in, 
courtiers playing royal games 
and bad girls raising hell. 


the play was originally considered a re- 
sponse to the anti-Conununist McCarthy 
madness of 1953, the movie depicts 
more of the real-life social upheaval 
caused by a gaggle of foolish teenage 
girls whose sexual voodoo—dancing 
naked in the woods and dipping into 
chicken blood, for a start—is interpreted 
by Salem's Puritan fathers as the devil's 
work. Hytner, whose first movie was The 
Madness of King George, scores another 
cinematic coup here, with matchless per- 
formances by Daniel Day-Lewis and 
Joan Allen as John and Elizabeth Proc- 
tor, the farm couple hounded to the gal- 
lows by the accusations of a psychotic, 
sexed-up teenager named Abigail (Wi- 
nona Ryder, in her fiashiest screen work 
to date). Overall, the cast is master- 
ful, from Paul Scofield as the presiding 
Judge Danforth to Bruce Davison as the 
weak-willed Reverend Parris to Karron 
Graves as Mary, the scared teenager 
whose testimony about Abigail’s treach- 
ery comes too late. Slow to build, The 
Crucible achieves hurricane force by its 
wrenching final scenes. ¥¥¥¥ 


Woody Allen dancing with Goldie 
Hawn along the Seine is the high point 
of Everyone Says I Love You (Miramax), es- 
pecially beguiling when Hawn seems to 
levitate ecstatically. Of course, they're 
spoofing similar fond moments between 
Fred Astaire and Audrey Hepburn in 
Funny Face. That's the whole idea—and 


almost the only idea—behind Allen's 
slighter-than-air musical comedy. He has 
slapped it all together with a game com- 
pany of nonmusical stars who do their 
own singing and dancing to familiar 
show tunes while portraying rich New 
York people on romantic side trips to 
Venice and Paris. The movie is a stroll 
down memory lane, with Allen, Hawn, 
Julia Roberts, Tim Roth, Drew Barry- 
more, Alan Alda and lots of good-look- 
ing up-and-comers. Few of these actors 
can really sing or dance, but all appear 
to relish moonlighting in a Woody Allen 
Die-hard fans may enjoy them- 
selves, too, but in this movie, Woody's 
usual genius is a little off-key. ¥¥/2 


Impeccable style and stinging wit were 
the chief requirements for gaining fa- 
vor in the 1780 Versailles court of Louis 
XVI as depicted in Ridicule (Miramax). 
French director Patrice Leconte paints a 
rich portrait of 18th century hypocrisy. 
“Learn to hide your insincerity” is among 
the rules that are set forth for Ponce- 
ludon (Charles Berling), an engineer 
whose mission at Versailles is to improve 
life in his native village by getting the 
swamps drained. He soon learns that 
such serious purposes are frowned upon 
unless a gentleman also knows the ins 
and outs of dancing, dissembling and se- 
duction. Ponceludon gets pointers from 
a scheming countess (Fanny Ardant), a 
shrewd marquis (Jean Rochefort) and 
the marquis’ luscious daughter Mathilde 
(Judith Godreche), who appears to be 
the only straightforward ally available. 
An audience favorite at the 1996 Cannes 
Film Festival, Ridicule is a wicked, world- 
ly spectacle. ¥¥¥ 


Oscar-winning actor Kevin Spacey 
makes his directorial debut with Albino 
Alligator (Miramax). The title refers to a 
kind of sacrificial bait, but the film’s key 
question is whether three desperate 
criminals will aid their escape by killing 
any or all of the hostages holed up with 
them in Dino’s Last Chance Bar. That's 
the plot, tightly written with a nice final 
twist by Christian Forte and executed 
with fine control by Spacey. All the actors 
deliver: Matt Dillon, Gary Sinise and 
William Fichtner as the lawless three- 
some, plus Faye Dunaway and Viggo 
Mortensen in pungent bits as two of 
the five threatened hostages. While the 
climax seems easy to predict, there's 
enough tension and menace to keep Alli- 
gator fairly snappy. ¥¥/2 

е 


Chalk up a victory for Albert Brooks 
as co-author (with Monica Johnson), 


26 


Ermey: Been there, done that. 


F CAMERA 


Tough talk is his stock in trade, 
and R. Lee Ermey, at 52, lives up to 
the reputation he established as 
a foul-mouthed drill sergeant in 
Stanley Kubrick’s 1987 epic, Full 
Metal Jacket. In 1995 he stood out 
as the angry, bercaved father of 
the murdered girl in Dead Man 
Walking. He's now on the verge 
of full stardom in two new films. 
As Olympic track-and-field coach 
Bill Bowerman in Prefontaine, he 
promises to be “a very colorful, 
off-the-wall character.” About his 
top slot in the imminent Going West 
with Dennis Quaid, he notes: “I'm 
a Texas sheriff, a grouchy good old 
boy, abutt-kicker. It's a major role, 
sure—but 1 never get the god- 
damn girl.” 

What Ermey usually gets are 
juicy parts as soldiers, in such films 
as The Boys in Company С and Apoc- 
alypse Now. “Every fucking script 
with a military man in it gets sent 
to me.” Small wonder. He's an ex- 
Marine, wounded in Vietnam, 
who enlisted to keep a judge from 
sending him to jail when he was a 
teenager in Washington State. 

After serving his country, Ermey 
drifted around Southeast Asia. He 
drove a taxi, owned a couple of 
fishing boats in Singapore and 
bought a brothel on Okinawa, 
transforming it into а successful 
i elines included “a little 
black marketeering—in cigarettes, 
whiskey and dirty movies. But I 
had to get out, the FBI was kind of 
looking at me." Launching his 
movie career as a technical advisor 
over there, he came back to the 
States with "a Filipino wife . . . the 
best thing that ever happened to 
me.” Currently he kills time be- 
tween films on a ranch in the 
desert, raising three kids and some 
horses. Ermey's acting secrets are 
pure and simple: “I take a little bit 
from here, a little bit from there. 
I've been around the horn—and 
by the time they put me in front of 
a camera, Lam that guy. 


director and star of Mother (Paramount 
Pictures), a small, engaging comedy 
about a twice-divorced California writer 
and his emotional failures with women. 
He decides to study the problem by 
moving back to his old room in his wid- 
owed mom's home in Sausalito. In the ti- 
ue role, Debbie Reynolds goes toe-to-toe 
with Brooks in a delightfully low-key 
performance, dearly convinced that her 
crazy son needs to blame her for every- 
thing that has gone awry in his life. 
Meanwhile, her second son, played by 
Rob Morrow, is on his way to Sausalito to 
resume bettering his brother in sibling 
rivalry. Brooks reserves for himself a fair 
share of cryptic one-liners on such di- 
verse topics as home cooking, science 
fiction, supermarket shopping and sex, 
but he sensibly keeps Reynolds in the 
forefront. Durable as ever, she returns 
the favor with a masterfully assured 
performance. ¥¥¥ 


Sarah Jessica Parker, Timothy Hutton 
and Tony Goldwyn portray the three 
grown children of an obstinate, obsessed 
Jewish book publisher in The Substance of 
Fire (Miramax). As the father, a Holo- 
caust survivor named Isaac Geldhart, 
Ron Rifkin repeats his prizewinning role 
in Jon Robin Baitz’ play, directed on 
both stage and screen by Daniel Sullivan. 
As a movie character, Rifkin's Geldhart 
often scems excessively cold and harsh 
viciously resistant when his offspring 
join forces against him to save his com- 
pany from bankruptcy. Their justifiable 
beef is that he persists in publishing only 
crudite, unprofitable books, preferably 
anything relevant to Judaism. They opt 
for a potential best-seller he considers 
trash, and the subsequent family feud is 
Substance of Fire's main drama. After a 
strong start the movie dwindles, despite 
impressive performances and literate 
dialogue. УУУ 

e 


А simpleton named Karl returns to his 
hometown after serving 25 years in 
prison for killing his mother and her 
bullying lover. In Sting Blade (Miramax), 
history seems likely to repeat itself when 
Karl befriends a boy (Lucas Black), then 
moves in with him and his mother (Na- 
talic Canerday), whose live-in beau is an- 
other abusive brute (played unnerving- 
ly well by country-music star Dwight 
Yoakam). Writer-director Billy Bob 
Thornton (who co-authored One False 
Move and A Family Thing) takes charge 
with his underplayed but powerful char- 
acterization of Karl, As director, Thorn- 
ton captures the rustic Arkansas milieu 
perfectly. He also gives a key role to John 
Ritter, who is almost unrecognizable as a 
plump, friendly homosexual who knows 
the pain of being different in a back- 
woods communily. ¥¥¥ 


MOVIE SCORE CARD 


capsule close-ups of current films 
by bruce williamson 


Albino Alligator (Sec review) Skintight 
thriller directed with considerable 
skill by Kevin Spacey. Wha 
American Buffalo (Reviewed 12/96) 
Mamet machismo co-stars Hoffman 
and Franz. yy 
Breaking the Waves (12/96) He's para- 
lyzed, she compensates with a few 
other men. wy 
Citizen Ruth (Sce review) Abortion de- 
bated in a broad black cı 

The Crucible (See re 
based on drama about the colonial 
Salem witch trials. vu 
Drunks (12/96) Actors try to summon 
the spirit of AA angst. a 
Everyone Says I Love You (See review) 
Woody Allen's sincere but off-key 
valentine to old-time musicals. ¥¥/2 
Get on the Bus (Listed only) In a potent 
topical fiction, Spike Lee hails 1995's 
Million Man March, ve 
I'm Not Rappaport (12/96) Geriatric 
comedy that worked much better as a 
stage play. vu 
Looking for Richard (12/96) Shake- 
speare’s classic vibrantly rehashed by 
Pacino. wy 
Michael Collins (11/96) Rebellion in 
Ireland, with an inspiring Neeson 
leading the way. Wi): 
Mother (See review) Debbie Reynolds 
does maternal love, aided by Albert 
Brooks. yyy 
Palookaville (12/96) A trio of crooks 
can’t seem to get anything right. ¥¥¥ 
Ridicule (See review) Prime wit and 
pure bitchery courtside during the 
time of Louis ХУ1. wm 
Secrets and Lies (11/96) Cannes prize- 
winner about a British single mom 
whose long-lost daughter turns up to 
spell trouble. ww 
Shine (See review) Piano virtuoso falls 
to pieces in a fine and moving Aus- 
tralian drama. mu 
Sling Blade (See review) The home- 
coming of a retarded but well-mean- 
ing murderer. wu 
Some Mother’s Son (11/96) Hunger 
strike by wild Irish rebels behind 
bars. Ww 
The Substance of Fire (Sce review) Fail- 
ing book business triggers a literate 
family feud. vvv 
To Gillian on Her 37th Birthday (12/96) 
It's Michelle Pfeiffer as a deceased 
wife. ууу: 
Twelfth Night (12/96) More fun with 
the Bard in a romantic mix-up. УУУУ: 
Unhook the Stars (12/96) All agliuer 
when Rowlands and Yomei take 
charge. wy: 


YYvY Don't miss 
¥¥¥ Good show 


YY Worth a look 
Y Forget it 


VIDEO 


GUEST SHOT 


Molly Ringwald is all 
grown up and crack- 
ing wise on ABC's 
Townies, but the for- 
mer Breakfast Club- 
ber still finds herself 
vulnerable to the 
power of movies. 
“Whenever | watch 
Breathless by Jean-Luc Godard,” she says, 
"| wind up cutting off all my hair. Then | re- 
gret it and don't watch the movie again for 
a few years.” Back in the States after an 
extended sabbatical in France, the former 
teen queen rents old French flicks to keep 
her ear attuned to her second language. 
She owns only a few videos, among them 
Funny Face end the John Cassavetes li- 
brary (she made her screen debut with 
Cassavetes in The Tempest). As for her 
Brat Pack oeuvre—Sixteen Candles, Pretty 
in Pink, etc.—Molly is nostalgic. “Those 
have a big video life. The clothes never 
went out of style. The dialogue hasn't 
changed much in terms of how kids talk. 
Those movies are timeless." — —4HARUECAES 


VIDEO DOOMSDAY 


Mars Attacks! hasn't opened, and you 
can't find a copy of Independence Day at 
the video store? It’s not the end of the 
world. Try a few of these titles for your 
apocalypse—now. 

Miracle Mile (1989): E.R.’s Anthony Ed- 
wards answers a pay phone only to find 
cut World War Three is on the way. Now 
he has 70 minutes to get out of town— 
during rush hour, no less. 

Night of the Comet (1984): What would you 
do if you were one of the last Earthlings 
left alive? Sexy California girl Catherine 
Mary Stewart hits the mall for some buy- 
now, pay-never shopping. 

The Doy After (1983): This grim, realistic 
TV movie sparked controversy by de- 
picting the devastation of Lawrence, 
Kansas after Soviets drop the big one. 
War of the Worlds (1953): Mars attacks, but 
we're not talking microscopic worms in a 
meteorite. Nukes can't stop these creepy 
aliens and their death rays, but wai'll 
you see what can. 

Earth vs. the Flying Saucers (1956): Effects 
master Ray Harryhausen's UFOs de- 
stroy Washington landmarks long before 
the ID4 ships took their shot. In a 
charming way, Harry's do it better 
Virus (1980): Talk about nuclear winter. 
Glenn Ford and Olivia Hussey share 
body heat as atomic blast survivors (858 
men and eight women) move to Antarc- 
tica. There goes the neighborhood. 
Phoenix the Warrior (1988): Who says be- 


ing the last man on Earth is all bad? Sole 
surviving dude is grand prize in all-fe- 
male battle to the death. 

The Rats (1982): After the bombs drop in 
2225, humans come from underground 
to recolonize, then discover rats—hun- 
gry rats—have taken over. Anyone for 
Mice-a-roni? —BUZZ MCCLAIN 


YULE BOXES 


Attention collectors: "Tis the season to 
buy gift boxed sets. Here are a few to re- 
mind Santa about: 

The Beatles Anthology (Turner, $159.98): 
Paul, George and Ringo—joined by clips 
of John—recall the long and winding 
road from Liverpool to Abbey Road. Sol- 
id-gold eight-volume set includes five- 
plus hours of footage not broadcast on 
ABC. (Also available in a stunning laser- 
disc package from Pioneer, $230.) 

Jim Correy: The Duh-lux Gift Set (New Line, 
$24.98): We wish you a Carrey Chris 
mas with two of the $20 million man’s 
biggest box office hits, Dumb and Dumb- 
er and The Mask. Bottom line: low on 
brains, high on laughs. 

The Ed Wood Collection (Rhino, $34.95): 
What connoisseur of golden turkeys 
wouldn't want to wake up with Wood on 
Christmas morning? Includes the trans- 
vestite director's best, er, worst efforts — 
Plan 9 From Outer Space, Glen or Glenda 
and Bride of the Monster—and comes 
packaged in a pink angora box. 

The John Woo Collection (Fox Lorber, 
$29.98): Fleck the walls with blood and 
bullcts. A double feature—The Killer and 


Hard Boiled—from Hong Kong's action 
master. Available subtitled or dubbed. 
The Matt Helm Collection (Columbia-Tri- 
Star, $24.95): Bachelor-pad cinema. 
Dean Martin has a license to croon as se- 
cretagent Matt Helm in The Silencers and 
The Wrecking Crew. Co-stars include Stel- 
la Stevens, Sharon Tate, Nancy Kwan 
and Tina “Ginger” Louise. 

The X-Files (Fox Video, $39.98): Too new 
to have a retrospective gift set? Nah. 
Neatly packaged, six-episode primer of 
TV's cult hit—including the first sea- 
son's finale, “The Erlenmeyer Flask. 
Fach tape box contains collector's cards. 
The Heneymooners (CBS/Fox, $09.98): A 
new bang-zoom for die-hard fans— 
namely, an eight-volume set containing 
the series’ original 39 episodes. Baby, 
they're the greatest. —DONALD LIEBENSON 


LASER FARE 


“What hump?” A collector's edition of 
Young Frankenstein (“That's Fronk-en- 
shteen!”) is due out from Fox, complete 
with commentary by director Mel 
Brooks, trailers, outtakes and seven 
deleted scenes. Marty Feldman still 
holds up as the Віск” stroke of genius 
($90). . . . Holiday shopping bulletin: A 
few copies remain of the Roan Group's А 
Christmas Corel Collector's Edition ($49), 
fcaturing the best Scrooge of all time, 
Alastair Sim, in a superb transfer from 
the 1951 35mm British negative. The 
Avengers’ Patrick Macnee (who plays 
young Marley in the movie) filmed the 
intro for the disc. — GRECORY P. FAGAN 


28 


WIRED 


JUST ADD EXHAUST FUMES 


If Interactive I/O's Virtual Vehicle JD is 
good enough for Nascar racer Jeff Gor- 
don and Cart rookie of the year Alex Za- 
nardi, then it's good enough for us. Both 
professional racers reportedly use the 
computer-based simulator to keep their 
driving skills up to speed in the off- 
season. Compatible with all PC racing 
games, the VVJD plugs into your com- 
puter's joystick port, creating a no- 
holds-barred cockpit environment simi- 
lar to the one illustrated below. Sitting in 
a low-slung, high-backed racing seat, 
you steer with an authentic-sized leath- 
er-bound steering wheel. Accelerator 
and brake pedals control speed while 
you shift using steering wheel-mount- 
ed buttons. Dampened steering lets you 


use actual force to wrestle your steed 
through the turns, and new software 
provides additional feedback in the form 
of stecring-whcel kickback and move- 
ment. The price of this realism? About 
$1300. A $695 tabletop version also is 
available. If driving isn’t your thing, In- 
teractive I/O introduced a souped-up 
flight simulator at the Blue Angels’ 
demonstration in San Dicgo last August. 
No word yet on when you can buy one. 
We'll keep you posted. 


DIGITAL SNAPS 


If you're in the market for a digital cam- 
era, check out Nikon's new Coolpix 100. 
Aside from being small enough to fit in 
your coat pocket, the $500 Coolpix 100 
is the first digital point-and-shooter that 
stores shots on an attached PCMCIA 
card. Traditional models store images on 
chips, and thus must be connected to 
your computer by cables in order to 
download photos. With the Coolpix, all 
you do is slip the lower end of the cam- 
era into your PCMCIA slot and wait 
eight to ten seconds while the 40 stored 
photos transfer to your hard drive. Once 
the card is empty, you can start snapping 
again. Using PCMCIA cards for image 
storage is a smart idea—and is sure to 


become a trend. Kodak's $700 DC50 
digital camera saves photos on remoy- 
able storage cards, and Sharp, Casio and 
Canon are expected to introduce their 
own variations later this year. 


JOCK FIX 


Fantasy leaguers who can't get to the sta- 
dium—or to the tubc—to follow their 
tcam’s progress can now stay on top of 
the game with Sports Trax. Developed 
by Motorola, Sports Trax is a palm-size 
receiver that uses paging technology to 
provide dichard fans with ncar-rcal- 
time, play-by-play coverage of profes- 
sional sporting events. There are indi- 
vidual Sports ‘Trax devices for baseball 
and football (illustrated at right), with 
basketball and hockey in the works, Each 
has a digital display that identifies the 
home and visiting team and offers score 
updates. The display also features a dia- 
gram of the playing field. As info is fed 
from stadium press boxes to the football 
unit, for example, you can watch the 


game progress by way of a pigskin that 
moves back and forth between goalposts. 
A variety of audio alerts signal when 


fumbles, interceptions, touchdowns and 
other significant events occur. And a sin- 
gle button lets you switch to other games 
in progress. The price is about $150 
each—good for three seasons. 


WILD THINGS 


at IBM Research's new cordless modem 


Thinkpad 560, below, this handy device uses modified 900-megahertz cordless 


phone technology to allow surfers the free- 
dom to roam with their computers—up to 
100 feet from a standard telephone jack. 
Compatible with all PC modems and PCM- 
CIA fox-and-modem cards, the two-piece 
system supports both voice and data trans- 
missions cs well as modem speeds up to 
28.8 kilobytes. And it’s easy to use. Con- 
nect the receiver to your phone jack and 
the wireless unit to your PC os shown, and 
dial owoy. The price: less than $200. e In- 
fo junkies should check out Global Vil- 
lage's Newscatcher. This pyramid-shaped 
wireless receiver delivers brecking news 
ond informotion from the Net to your PC 
via a service called Air Media Live. Cur- 
tently availoble for Windows 95, News- 
catcher is priced at $149, including a 
yeor’s worth of free Air Media service. 
After that, you pay only 
$72 annually. 


Before you stort organizing your home office around the phone jack, take a look 


peripheral. Teamed with the IBM 


MULTIMEDIA 
REVIEWS & NEWS 


Planning to stuff stockings with CD- 
ROMs? We've reviewed the best. 


Robert De Niro must have called in a few 
favors for his company’s first CD-ROM 
game, 9. Besides tapping a host of be- 
hind-the-scenes Hollywood talent, the 
owner of Tribeca Interactive enlisted 
Cher, James Belushi, Christopher Reeve 
and Aerosmith rockers Steven Tyler and 
Joe Perry to lend their voices to the 
game's offbeat cast of characters. But 9 is 
more than just a celebrity vehicle. It 
combines a compelling plot with the 
most amazing art yet in a CD-ROM ad- 


CYBER SCOOP 


2 For the lowdown on concerts, 
celebrity chots ond other live In- 
ternet events, point your Web 
browser to Netclock (www.net 
clock.com). This list of reol-time 
cybergigs is seorchable by more 
thon 30 subjects, including our 
three fovorites—sex, sports ond 
entertainment. 


Tired of poying monthly service 
fees just to send ond receive 
e-moil? Juno Online will let you 
do both for free. There ore two 
smoll cotches: You hove to be o 
Windows user and have to toler- 
ote ods, which run along the top 
‘of your computer screen while 
you compose messoges. 


venture. Set at the run-down Last Re- 
sort, once a place of rejuvenation for so- 
ciety’s artistic elite, 9 looks like a 
Salvador Dali painting come to life. 
You're charged with restoring the place 
to its former glory. To do so, you must 
solve puzzles and uncover mysteries in 
14 rooms that seem to 
change each time you 
enter them. If you like 
surprises, you'll love 
this game. (For Mac 
and Windows, $50.) 


Fans of glamour pho- 
tography will enjoy Pin- 
Ups, a CD-ROM retro- 
spective that is based on 
the books Bernard of 
Hollywood's Blondes!, 
Brunettes! and Redheads! 
by Susan Bernard 
(Рі лувоу' Miss Decem- 
ber 1966). The disc, like 
the books, showcases photographs by 
Bernard's father, Bruno Bernard, who 
immortalized Forties and Fifties Holly- 


Hef: A twist af face 


wood starlets. We especially like Pin-Ups’ 
clever interface, which categorizes the 53 
featured females by hair color. (By Co- 
rel, for Mac and Windows, $25.) 


Tom Clancy’s SSN is a hard-core nuclear 
submarine simulator that plays like an 
action game. Developed by the best-sell- 
ing author with input from former 
British Royal Navy submarine captain 
Doug Littlejohns, the two-disc political 
thriller includes a 45-minute video di- 
alogue with Clancy and Littlejohns, 
as well as a na- 
val reference 
guide for mili- 
tary buffs. (By 
Simon & Schu- 
ster Interac- 
tive, for Win- 
dows 95, $70.) 


For instant 
amusement, 
consider load- 
ing Kats Power 
Goo onto your 


hard drive, A 
highly enter- 
taining 32-bit graphics manipulator, 


Power Goo is as sophisticated as it is sim- 
ple to use. Smudge, stretch, contort and 
fuse your own images from a digital 
camera, video capture card or scanner 
(as we have done with our illustrious 
leader) or just play with the supplied 
photo library. You can also try your hand 
at genetic engineering (imagine a fusion 
of mother-in-law and rabid dog) or cre- 
ate morphing animations of your digital 
monstrosities. (By Metatools, for Win- 
dows 95 and Mac, $50.) 


Virtual Pool is the zenith of PC billiard 
games. Aside from offering the most re- 
alistic three-dimensional simulations to 
date of eight ball, nine ball, rotation and 
straight pool, it includes video segments 
that feature pool master Lou “Machine 
Gun” Butera performing various trick 
shots. Even better, Vir- 
tual Pool is the only bil- 
liards simulation that 
has the balls, so to 
speak, to offer you your 
money back if your re- 
al-world game doesn't 
improve as a result of 
on-screen practice. (Ву 
Interplay, for Mac, 
Windows and Playsta- 
tion, $30 to $50.) 


Crash Bandicoot, the 
Piaystation’s answer to 
Sonic the Hedgehog 
and Super Mario, rules 
the gaming outback 
with dazzling graphics and complex 
three-dimensional game play. While 
guiding the feisty marsupial through 30 


Cher os fortune-teller in 9 


levels of the best—and wittiest—action 
available on a 32-bit system, you must 
defeat the evil Dr. Neo Cortex in his bid 
for world domination. Along the way, 
you'll encounter fiendish levels, surprise 
power-ups and outrageous challenges 
that make Crash a sensational console 
game. (By Sony Computer Entertain- 
ment, for Playstation, about $60.) 


Doom is doomed now that Duke Nukem 
3-D has hit the gaming scene. This ultra- 
hip first-person shooter puts its competi- 
tion to shame 
with some cool 
graphics, 
pulse-pound- 
ing action, 
smirking 
tough-guy 
sound tes 
and a unique 
adult sensibili- 
ty that is sure 
to inspire an 
army of imita- 
tors. As Duke 
indicates, it's 
“groovy, baby.” 
(From GT Interactive, for DOS, $40.) 


The last several iterations of Quicken 
added features but veered from the sim- 
plicity that made the personal finance 
software a charm to use. In Quicken 
Deluxe 6, the latest version, the program 
is more powerful than ever and has been 
reengineered to restore its user-friend- 
liness. Particularly useful are the im- 
provements that ease the way to banking 
at home, and a new debt-reduction plan- 
ner that eliminates excuses for not get- 
ting your finances in order. (By Intuit, 
for Mac and Windows, $60.) 


DIGITAL DUDS 


Cory Everson: Body, Mind and 
@ Soul: The six-time Ms. Olympio 

is in great shape, but we con't 
soy the some about her CD- 
ROM, with its stroight-from-o- 
nutrition-book info ond lome ex- 
ercise demos. 


Treasure Quest: This game with 
о gimmick offers о million bucks 
to the ployer who best solves its 
mysteries. The chollenge: stoying 
awake long enough lo collect. 


Slope Style: The only logicol 
way to moster snowboording is 
to foll on your butt о few times 
while doing it. This digitol crosh 
course won't help. 


See whot's hoppening on Ployboy's 
Home Page ot http://www. ployboy com 


WHERE & HOWTO EUY ON PAGE 184 


29 


30 


COUNTRY 


IRIS DEMENT'S The Way I Should (Warner 
Bros.) is going to surprise a lot of people. 
Having earned respect for two unfash- 
ionably plain albums, the Arkansas-born 
vith the enormous voice hired 
ille producer Randy Scruggs and 
spends musical time protesting immoral- 
ity. The result is a good change for her. 
Scruggs’ brightly traditional production 
separates DeMent from her former som- 
berness without gussying her up. Her 
recollections of childhood in Walkin’ 
Home and the love song This Kind of Hap- 
py sound completely natural. Only a 
woman as nice as DeMent could make 
the line “That sounds like crap to me” 
seem as damning as it ought to be. 
—ROBERT CHRISTGAU 


Give Me Some Wheels (Capitol), by Suzy 
Bogguss, has all the virtues of Seven- 
ties southern California rock with bet- 
ter singing. Bogguss co-wrote the best 
tracks: Give Me Some Wheels, a great car 
song, and She Said, He Heard, which is 
country feminism personified. Saying 
Goodbye to a Friend mixes metaphors of 
romantic and mortal mourning in a way 
that would gratify Jackson Browne. 

Ray Price was Hank Williams’ pro- 
tégé, and the Cherokee Cowboys origi- 
nally got together in Williams’ band. So 
it's not surprising that Ray Price and the 
Cherokee Cowboys (Bear Family) is a festi- 
val of honky-tonk classics from Crazy 
Arms and Heartaches by the Number to My 
Shoes Keep Walking Back to You. No wasted 
moments here. —DAVE MARSH 


Mary Chapin Carpenter has built a ca- 
reer by making connections with her 
own generation, but rarely as directly 
as оп A Place in the World (Columbia). I 
Want to Be Your Girlfriend is an hom- 
age to Sixties radio, replete with crest- 
ing Mersey-beat guitar and Benmont 
Tench’s crunchy keyboard work. And 
Carpenter's Stax-Volt-tinged Lei Me Into 
Your Heart (from the Tin Cup soundtrack) 
uses its antecedents well. A Place in the 
World finds her sounding splendid. 

Gary Allan has embraced the honky- 
tonk tradition of Bakersfield, Califor- 
nia on Used Heort for Sale (Decca). In his 
debut, he covers songs from some of 
Nashville's edgiest songwriters. Jim Lau- 
derdale’s Tex-Mex shuffle, Forever and 
a Day, is a winner, and Faron Young's 
shot-and-a-beer boogie, Wine Me Up, 
takes Allan back to the earl ties with- 
out sounding retro. A finalist for country 
lyric of the year comes in the Kent Rob- 
bins ballad Her Man, where Allan sings, 
“Been an s.o.b. right down to the letter.” 
Used Heart is the way country used to be. 

—DAVE HOEKSTRA 


N 
Iris DeMent's The Way I Should. 


Lots of country, music 
from the subways and 
a Rent strike. 


ROCK 


The New York City subway is fertile 
ground for creativity. As demonstrated 
by Street Dreams New York (Clay Dog), mu- 
sicians work its ells and platforms 
well. Recorded live in the subway sys- 
tem, these 15 songs by ten artists indude 
folk, reggae and soul. This is a surpris- 
ingly laid-back record, not nearly so 
harsh as you'd expect. Paul Clements, an 
English acoustic guitarist, and Simon 7, 
an Australian who plays the didgeridoo, 
perform two gentle instrumentals (Slide 
and Rolling Dice). Roger Ridley turns ina 
sweet version of Gershwin's Summertime 
and a fine duet with Kathleen Mock on 
You Should Know. But this collection's 
knockout performance is delivered by 
Alice "Tan" Ridley, who blows a big, 
womanly gust of soul vocalizing on My 
Man. It’s the kind of performance that 
puts the whiny vocals of most Nineties 
divas to shame. — NELSON GEORGE 


The original appeal of Nirvana has 
been overwhelmed by imitators. Let us 
therefore recall why the band was great 
in the first place. Kurt Cobain had a rare 
voice that sounded good when scream- 
ing. In rock history, maybe only John 
Lennon sounded better. Cobain also 
wrote wonderfully mysterious lyrics and 
equally evocative chord. progressions 
and riffs for his beyond-punk guitar. 
Bassist Krist Novoselic always found the 
pocket, and Dave Grohl, now playing 
guitar with Foo Fighters, was probably 


the best pure rock-and-roll drummer of 
his generation. All these virtues are 
abundantly in evidence on From the Mud- 
dy Banks of the Wishkah (DGC), a live al- 
bum culled from gigs early and late in 
the band's trajectory from nowhere to 
superstardom to tragedy. Play it loud 
and you'll be happy. There aren't many 
big revelations and clues here to what 
might have been. Mostly, you'll find 
cruder versions of the big hits. But even 
after listening to this, the ardent fan will 
still be haunted by the question “Is that 
all there is?” 

Schleprock play a faster, more major- 
key English-derived version of punk 


, with forays into ska on (America’s) Dirty Lit- 


tle Secret (Warner Bros.). Nothing mys- 
terious here. The dirty little secret is 
racism, and they want to know, “If I 
shout for what's right, will you stand by 
my side?” Tight play and grand anthems 
make it easy to answer with an emphatic 
pikes! — CHARLES M. YOUNG 


The bankruptcy of Broadway musical 
theater has never been clearer than it is 
on Rent, Original Cast Album (Dream 
Works). The show's “rock” stature is 
meant to excuse the absence of a single 
memorable melody, let alone anything 
reminiscent of Chuck Berry or the Bea- 
Чез. The follow the plot lyrics range 
from the moronically obvious (“That's 
what Maureen is protesting!" someone 
shouts and immedistely sings, "Maureen 
is protesting”) to third-rate Gilbert and 
Sullivan. Rent is meant to be Tommy's suc- 
cessor, but the comparison only makes 
it pathetically clear how skillfully Pete 
Townshend ayoided the clichés of the 
program song and the tyranny of plum- 
my vocal tones. Rent also lacks a single 
memorable instrumental passage. A 
song that actually has a rock beat, such 
as Out Tonight, is ruined by the vocalists" 
inability to slur the lyrics properly. At 
least Bye Bye Birdie owned up to hating 
rock. Rent seems to have been created by 
people who feel the same way but lack 
the guts to admit it. — DAVE MARSH 


Vic Chesnutt may be the only singer- 
songwriter who has sold more records to 
his fellow musicians (including R.E.M., 
Cracker and Smashing Pumpkins) than 
to the general public. Chesnutt hails 
from R.E.M.'s hometown. On his first 
major release, About to Choke (Capitol), he 
can be as enigmatic as his friend Michael 
Stipe, then suddenly toss in a metaphor 
that’s very much down to earth. Degener- 
ate is the album's most haunting song, a 
paean to the spiritual mulch created as 
things die and get reborn. Last June, 
Chesnutt (who has been in a wheelchair 
since he was in a car accident) was one 
of the subjects of a remarkable tribute 


album, Sweet Relief II: Gravity of the Situa- 
tion (Columbia). The album series ben- 
efits musicians dealing with hardship, 
and features moving performances of 
Chesnutt tunes by Soul Asylum, Madon- 
na, Smashing Pumpkins and Hootie & 
the Blowfish. You'd swear these songs 
were long-lost gems from the bands per- 
forming them. 

Donovan's comeback album, Sutras 
(American), is my guilty pleasure. In the 
Sixties he was touted as the English Dy- 
lan, and his early psychedelic material 
(such as Sunshine Superman and Hurdy 
Gurdy Man) were original and fun. When 
he's anchored by his Celtic roots on 
Please Don'! Bend and Give It All Up, 
Donovan proves he can still connect with 
his childlike sensibility. Sutras reminds us 
that angst isn't everything, 

— VIC GARBARINI 


REGGAE 


Reggae artist Maxi Priest has the skills 
to marshal both traditional and modern 
Jamaican styles, as well as R&B. He's 
R. Kelly one minute and Marvin Gaye 
the next. On Man With the Fun (Virgin 
America), he croons about love (Won't Let 
Ii Slip Away) and rants against injustice 
(Watching the World Go Ву). —pave MARSH 


FOLK 

On Motopedia (Rykodisc) Canadian 
folkies Kate and Anna McGarrigle show 
no signs of sweetening with age. But in 
Talk About It, they make it clear that there 
are still things they'd rather do in bed 
than die ROBERT CHRISTGAU 


WORLD 


Few musicians can claim to have i 
vented a style. But when Thomas Map- 
fumo adapted Zimbabwe’s traditional 
thumb-piano lines to the electric guitar, 
he became one of them. Two terrific 
compilations showcase him: Chimurenga 
Forever: The Best of Thomas Mapfumo (Hemi- 
sphere) and the Singles Collection 1977- 
1986 (Zimbab, Box 2421, Champaign, 
Illinois 61825). — ROBERT CHRISTGAU 


RAP 


Chuck D is rightfully associated with 
blistering attacks on white supremacy, 
but he's often at his scornful best talking 
about African American malfeasance. 
On his first solo effort, Autobiography 
of Mistachuck (Mercury), he finds a juicy 
target—black record industry moguls 
known as Big Willies. Some cuts explicit- 
ly criticize them and others do so 
obliquely. Chuck D roars, shouts and 
orates with righteous vigor. 

—NELSON GEORGE 


FAST TRACKS 


OCKMETER 


Christgau | Garbarini | George 

Suzy Bogguss 
Give Me Some Wheels] 5 7 6 8 Hi 
Vic Chesnutt 
About fo Choke 6 8 6 6 8 
Iris DeMent 
The Way I Should 8 8 3 e 8 
Nirvana 
Muddy Banks of the 

Wishkah, 9 9 9 Ui 8 
Various artists 
Street Dreams 

New York 4 7 7 6 y 


ENGELBERT HUMPERDINCK LIVES DEPART- 
MENT: Engelbert Humperdinck will be 
joined on the soundtrack for the new 
Beovis ond Butt-head movie by LL Cool J, 
the Chili Peppers and R.E.M. Can an 
MTV Unplugged be far behind? 
REELING AND ROCKING: Phil Collins will 
collaborate on the music for Disney‘ 
Tarzan with David Zippel, the lyri 
who won a Tony award for City of An- 
gels. . . Ап indie film company will 
produce a bio of Derby Crash, the lead 
singer of the Germs whose life ended 
in suicide when he was only 22. . 
Madonna has been offered the leading 
role in Shut Up and Dance, a love story 
involving a dance instructor. . . . We 
don't know what will happen now, but. 
Topac Shokur vas slated to write the 
music for a movie about his mother, 
Afeni, a founding member of the Black 
Panthers. . . . Oscar-winning director 
John Schlesinger just directed his first 
music video, Father, for Why Store. It 
stars Chris (Lone Star) Cooper, Beverly 
D'Angelo and Edward Furlong. 
NEWSBREAKS: Hurry up and get your 
tickets for the 1997 Ultimate Rhythn & 
Blues Cruise on January 19-26, star- 
ring Etta James, Taj Mahal, the Fabulous 
Thunderbirds, Charles Brown and Joe 
Louis Wolker, among others. In the 
late Seventies Cle magazine was a 
great guide to Cleveland's wide-open 
music scene. After a 15-year hiatus, 
it’s back. Issue #4 includes a two-CD 
set of great local bands. Available, 
while they last, for $12 from PO. Box 
16613, Cleveland, Ohio 44116. 
Talk show news: Both Naomi Judd 
(who has taped a pilot) and Patti La- 
Belle are being pitched for daytime 
TV shows. .. . An 18-foot piece of art 
by David Bowie was displayed at the 
Florence, Italy Biennale. The face in 
the piece is cast from Bowie’s life mask 


made in 1976. . . . Some collector's- 
item jazz from a new label, Arkadia 
Jazz: Billy Taylor Trio: Born Again (at 
75) and David Liebmon's enhanced CD 
of John Coltrane’s Meditations Suite. . . . 
Joni Mitchell is doing three books for 
Random House. First, a collection of 
her artwork, then one of lyrics and 
poetry and another of anecdotal 
memoirs. . . . Hootie & the Blowfish will 
launch its new label this spring with 
two bands. Treadmill Trackstar and Tree- 
house. . . . Earth, Wind & Fire will release 
astudio album early this year. . .. Look 
for the seven-hour boxed set of Grate- 
ful Dead videos. . . . Oh no, not anoth- 
er one: Me'Shell Ndegeocello wants to 
change her name and start a band. 
Ndegéocello says she's already said as 
much as she can in her songs and will 
continue to pursue music by making 
instrumental records or as a member 
of a band. . . . Bob Weir, Tom Waits and 
Arlo Guthrie are among the artists 
recording duets with Ramblin’ Jack El- 
lion. . . . While everyone sympathizes 
with the stories of how, in the early 
days of rock, labels and managers 
screwed musicians out of their royal- 
ties, most people can't believe it still 
happens. How about TLC? The band 
claims that Ooooohhh, . . . On the TLC 
Tip and Crazysexycool sold about 14 
million copies worldwide, generating 
$175 million in retail sales, but that 
they have received just a small portion 
of that. According to an item in Rock & 
Rap Confidential, the rest has gone to 
their management, production and 
record companies. TLC declared 
bankruptcy and had to pay its own 
way to last years Grammy cere- 
mony, where it won two awards. . . . 
For the holidays: Made With Love, the 
Grateful Dead cookbook. Try Dead 
bread. Bon appétit. — —BARBARA NELLIS 


31 


TRAVEL 


LISTEN TO THE ECO 


You might say that John F. Kennedy created ecotourism when 
he launched the Peace Corps more than 30 years ago. Now 
“volunteer vacations” are the fastest-growing segment of the 
tourism industry, a chance to visit exotic places and also give 
something back to the planet. Earthwatch, the largest organi- 
zation of this kind, currently offers more than 130 “expedi- 
tions” to 50 countries. You can hunt for artifacts in Kentucky's 
Mammoth Cave ($695), document the behavior of fur seals in 
Uruguay ($1595) or give checkups to cheetahs in Namibia 
($3595). These prices don't include airfare. Another eco-ori- 
ented travel business, Wildland Adventures, takes volunteers 
to Peru every August to help repair the damage done by 
tourism on the sacred Inca Trail to Machu Picchu. Ground 
price: $1455. And there's no better way to bond with the en- 
vironment than by staying at an ecoresort. Maho Bay Camp- 
ground, in the Virgin Islands National Park on St. John, in- 
cludes underwater trails for snorkeling and offers four 
different places to stay: 
Maho Bay (with tent 
cottages built on 16' x 
16' platforms), Harmo- 
ny (studios made from 
recycled building mate- 
rials), Estate Concordia 
(secluded cottages with 
wraparound decks) and 
Concordia Eco-Tents 
(classy cottages with 
high-tech amenities). 
Prices range from $95 
to $150 per night. 
There's even а maga- 
zine, Eco Traveler, devot- 
ed to the pleasure of 
ecological giving, plus 
information on tour op- 
erators, upcoming proj- 
ects and ecoresorts. What's Earthwatch's most popular expe- 
dition? Going to Hawaii to study dolphin intelligence, said a 
spokesperson. And while they won't comment on the least 
Popular project, we'll take a pass on spending $1595 to sort 
cod for three weeks aboard a trawler in the Gulf of St. 
Lawrence. January is our month to visit the Bahamas. 


NIGHT MOVES: PUERTO VALLARTA 


When John Huston came here 30 years ago to shoot The Night 
of the Iguana, Puerto Vallarta was a drowsy little beach burg 
with unreliable telephones. Then Huston's leading man, 
Richard Burton, arrived with Elizabeth Taylor and a herd of 
media. Vallarta became a tourist mecca. Despite its interna- 
tional appeal, the rustic town hung on to its Mexican flavor, 
kept the big hotels out of the center and prospered. For a taste 
of the funky old days (and splendid Mexican cuisine), stay in 
one of 16 rooms at Los Cuatro Vientos (Matamoros 520). Take 
in the view—and PV's most potent margarita—from the inn's 
rooftop bar, then go for seafood at the Mariscos Tampico 
Club's interior patio (Galeano 180) or at a sidewalk table at 
Puerto Nuevo (Basilio Badillo 284). Louisiana gumbo, cray- 
fish and stone crabs are must-trys at N'awlins Oyster Bar (Al- 
lende 124), as is the rabbit served oceanside at the new Nana- 
huatzin (tel: 20577). Enjoy a surfside meal at La Palapa (tel.: 
25225), PV's first beachfront bistro, or board a sunset cruise 
to the jungle fishing village at Yelapa for a firelit beach barbe- 
cue and ceremonial Aztec dancing. Top off the evening at the 
32 Zoo (Paseo Diaz Ordaz 630), a great spot for singles 


GREAT ESCAPE —— 
LILI MARLEEN 


The Lili Marleen is a replica of a 19th century tall ship, but 
its air-conditioned cabins and richly paneled staterooms 
are strictly contemporary. You'll be encouraged to join the 
crew of 25 and help sail the ship before heading to the 
luxurious dining salon (pictured here) for exceptional cui- 
sine (often featuring the catch of the day). Since there's 
space for only 50 passengers aboard the 250-foot sailing 


vessel, its three bars and library are never ~ 
crowded. In late spring and early summer the Lili Marleen 
will sail the waters off Malaga and the French coast on 
one-week or two-week cruises. Then it's on to the Baltic 
for the summer before cruising to the Red Sea and even- 
tually the Caribbean. A seven-day cruise is about $2200 
plus airfare. Call 800-348-8287 for more information. 


ROAD STUFF 


To tote a cellular phone, eyeglasses or even a trio of cigars in 
style, slip Louis Vuitton’s Etui Grand Model holster from its 
Taiga Collection onto a matching belt (as pictured here). The 
holster sells for $165, and the belt with a gold-plated buckle is 
$270. © Saitek's Sound Asleep is a portable battery-powered 
gizmo that lulls travelers to sleep by electronically reproduc- 
ing the lonely sound ofa night train, the babble ofa mountain 
stream or the crash of surf on a tropical beach. In the morn- 
ing you can awake with the birds to an electronic cuckoo. 
Price: about $80. ө Steril-Touch, a hand sanitizer, isa 
good way to protect yourself against germs when soap 
and water aren't available. For $3.95 you get a four- 
ounce bottle containing a citrus-scented liquid that 
bottle for at-home use 
are also avail- 

p" 
duced its Global 
Service, which offers 
in their native tongue. So if you've 
lost your card, need emergency 
able no matter where you are 
For information on other fea- 
on the back of your card 
WHERE & HOW TO BLY ON PAGE 184 


dries on contact with your skin. (A two-ounce size 
for overnight trips and an eight-ounce pump 
able.) e Master 

Card has intro- 

holders traveling abroad 

access to 24-hour assistance 

cash or want access to account 

information, operators are avail- 

tures and on price, call the 

toll-free number that’s 


By DIGBY DIEHL 


PROFESSOR Hope Devane, author of the 
best-selling Wolves and Sheep: Why Men 
Inevitably Hurt Women and What Women 
Can Do to Avcid It, gets stabbed to death 
in front of her home. Police figure it was 
a wacko who hated her book. But the 
murder has them stumped. Enter Alex 
Delaware, children’s shrink and free- 
lance detective, who, as usual, digs up 
some long-buried secrets. In this case 
they turn out as nasty and horrific as any 
in a Stephen King novel. 

Jonathan Kellerman's latest book, The 
Clinic (Bantam), mines new realms of 
psychological terror and is the most en- 
grossing mystery story he has written. 
ng tale of stalking and murder, 
st the usual chic Hollywood 
background. 

In less capable hands, the convolu- 
tions of Clinic's plot would send the story 
off the rails. But Kellerman holds the 
reader riveted as Delaware and homi- 
cide detective Milo Sturgis analyze each 
new piece of information. Terse, reveal- 
ing stretches of dialogue—mainly inter- 
views with people who knew Devane— 
pull the reader deeper into the book. 
The whodunit cleverly evolves into a 
whydunit. This is a mystery novel Ross 
Macdonald would have loved. 


GIFT BOOKS 


Jackie Robinson: An Intimate Portrait 
(Abrams), by Rachel Robinson with Lee 
Daniels: Baseball fans will get a rare look 
at the great Robinson through his wid- 
ow's candid memories. The images in 
this illustrated book are a remarkable 
portfolio of a man and a time. 

Marvel Universe (Abrams), by Peter 
Sanderson: This follow-up to the suc- 
cessful 50th anniversary history focuses 
on the “biographies” of Marvel’s comic- 
book legends, including the X-Men, the 
Hulk, Spider-Man and the Fantastic 
Four, A terrific tribute to the genius of 
creator Stan Lee. 

The King on the Road: Elvis Live on Tour 
1954-1977 (St. Martin's), by Robert Gor- 
don: From the Graceland archives come 
almost 200 color and black-and-white 
photographs (many never seen before) 
of the Memphis phenom on tour. This 
book charts Elvis’ transformation from a 
novelty to the king of rock and roll. 

Crazy Sexy Cool (Little Brown), designed 
Ly Fred Woodward: Celebrity photogra- 
phy at its most provocative, with plenty 
of sex and sill More than 100 
stars—including Alicia Silverstone, Jen- 
nifer Aniston, Johnny Depp, Brad Pitt, 
Keanu Reeves, Drew Barrymore, Mel- 
anie Griffith, Nicole Kidman, 
Basinger, Sandra Bullock, Michael J. 
Fox, Madonna, Gwyneth Paltrow and 


A holiday feast for the eyes. 


Kellerman gives a 
clinic and Ford takes us 
to the fights. 


David Schwimmer—shed their clothes 
and/or inhibitions for the camera 

The Fights (Chronicle), edited by Rich- 
ard Ford: Novelist and former Gold- 
en Gloves boxer Ford has picked some 
knockout writers—A.J. Liebling, James 
Baldwin, Jimmy Cannon and William 
Nack—to accompany these stark duo- 
tone photographs. The photos, taken for 
the New York Daily News by Charles Hoff, 
depict boxing matches between 1935 
and 1966 and serve as a brutal visual 
complement to Ford’s own description 
of being hit in the face. 

The Illustrated Brief History of Time (Ban- 
tam), by Stephen Hawking: Admit it. 
Even with Hawking’s lucid explanations, 
a few fine points of his 1988 science clas- 
sic escaped you. The expanded, illustrat- 
ed edition includes new photos from the 
Hubble telescope, computer-generated 
images of the fourth dimension and il- 
lustrations of how a black hole occurs. 
This time you might get it. 

Science ion: The Illustrated Encyclopedia 


(DK Publications), by John Clute: If 


you're not a science fiction buff, this ele- 
gant, entertaining book will make you 
one. It is an excellent reference work 
that profiles more than 100 sf writers 
and offers detailed histories of science 
fiction literature and films. It is also a 
beautifully designed book, with more 
than a thousand color illustrations. 
Northwest Passage (Aperture), photo- 
graphs and log by Robert Glenn Ketch- 
um; commentary by Barry Lopez: In 


1994 photographer and environmental- 
ist Ketchum set out from Greenland on a 
journey few have ever completed—a 
trek through the hazardous Arctic wa- 
terways to the Pacific. His ship, the Itas- 
ca, also transported a small helicopter, 
which Ketchum used to capture aerial 
views of ethereal lights and icy land- 
scapes that are forbidding and beautiful. 

The Lost Artwork of Hollywood (Billboard 
Books/Watson-Guptill), by Fred Basten: 
Prior to 1950, studios wooed theater 
owners with splashy ads in Daily Variety 
and The Hollywood Reporter. It was how 
Hollywood moguls got their films no- 
ticed before publicity campaigns. This 
collection of movie trade advertising by 


1 illustrators such as Al Hirschfeld, Alberto 


Vargas and Norman Rockwell is com- 
mercial art you won't forget. 

Fuck You Heroes (Burning Flags Press), 
photographs by Glen Friedman: These 
photos, taken between 1976 and 1991, 
are the perfect gift for your surliest loved 
one. Skate-boarders, Henry Rollins, the 
Beastie Boys and Chuck D all make vivid 
appearances. 

Football America Celebrating Our National 
Pastime (Turner Publishing), text by Phil 
Barber and Ray Didinger: The compan- 
ion volume to the TNT TV series asks 
the annual fall question: What is football 
fever and how did so many people catch 
it? This volume answers with a twist, cov- 
ering Gallaudet University's deaf team, a 
Pennsylvania prison league and the only 
female collegiate coach. You'll get your 
rah-rahs out. 


BOOKMARKS 


Spike Lee is expected to deliver some 
controversial observations about the role 
of basketball in African American life 
when his Best Seat in the House is pub- 
lished next June by Crown. Lee received 
nearly half a million dollars for his 
thoughts. . . . David Hojdu's Lush Life: A 
Biography of Billy Strayhorn has been op- 
tioned for the screen by Time's Jay Cocks 
and producer Irwin Winkler. Duke Elling- 
ton’s musical collaborator was a gay man 
in the macho world of jazz. ... . Martin 
Cruz Smith has written the screenplay for 
a TV version of his novel Red Square, to 
be shot in Germany. And veteran screen- 
writer Ted Tally will adapt Smith’s latest 
novel, Rose, for a Miramax production. . . . 
Although the ballyhooed Dreamworks 
SKG has yet го put a movie on the 
screen, it is generating books about its 
famous owners. Entertainment Weekly 
writer Gregg Kilday is working on an un- 
authorized tome about the creation of 
the studio, and Dreammaker: A Biography 
of Steven Spielberg by Joseph McBride is due 


this spring. 


33 


HEALTH & FITNESS 


ODE TO SOY 


It’s well known that a low-fat diet is likely to reduce the risk 
of heart disease. Turns out it may also impede prostate cancer, 
especially if the diet is low in animal fat and high in soy. 

Asian men, who traditionally eat soy as their main source of 
protein, are much less likely 10 develop prostate cancer than 
meat-eating American men. And the differences don't seem 
to be genetic: For Asian immigrants the cancer rates shoot up 
fourfold within one generation. Similarly, African Americans 
in the U.S, have high rates (75 per 100,000), while men in 
West Africa (where the typical diet has little fat or meat) have 
a rate among the world’s lowest (4 per 100,000). 

Most American men, of course, don't like the taste of soy 
foods such as tofu, miso or tempeh, or soy flour or soy protein 
drinks (sorry, soy sauce doesn't count). But when you consid- 
er the other evidence present- 
ed at the recent Soy Sympo- 
sium in Brussels—as little as 25 
grams of soy, or two table- 
spoons of soy powder, can low- 
er “bad” cholesterol. raise 
“good” cholesterol, strengthen 
bones and prevent heart dis- 
ease and stroke—you may learn 
to love it. 


AB FAB OR FAD? 


We like good abs as much as 
anyone. But this is getting 
ridiculous. Washboards used to 
be for washing underwear— 
not selling it. Spare us another 
$59.95 three-minute y gi 
mo that looks like two bent 
pipes. According to a report in 
The New York Times, Ameri- 
cans will have forked out 
$25 million on ab-building devices for home use this 
year—more than ten times the figure for the past year. 
You're just as well off doing inclined crunches. Remem- 
ber, 200 macho sit-ups—bouncing up and down—does 
little more than exercise the thighs and hip flexors. 
Keep your chin straight and raise the torso 30 de- 
grees. Go down slow. 

In health clubs, meanwhile, the hot activity is 
spinning. Soup up a bunch of stationary exer- 
cise bikes (that’s Schwinn’s Johnny G. Spinner 
at right) to simulate uphills, downhills 
and straightaways with the touch of a 
finger. Add a lively trainer to lead the 
pack through its paces and you have a car- 
dio workout that leaves Jane Fonda in the 
dust. 


Are you a gut nut? Got an ob- 
ssession? “Let out the stom- 
ach,” pleads one fitness mov- 
erick. “Push out the tension.” 


-day giz- 


AH-AH-AH-ZINC! 


rara NE wink ame Aelia. | 
Annals of Internal Medicine suggests that 
lozenges containing zinc can slice your 
sniffletime dramatically. Cold suf- 
ferers who sucked a lozenge for- 
tified with the essential mineral 
every two hours got well in 4.4 
days, compared with 7.6 days for a control group. 
34 The lozenge group had half as many days of coughing 


DR. PLAYBOY 


Q.: I just read that best-seller The 
Zone. Is it true that carbs are out and 
protein is in? 

A.: Author Barry Sears says food isn't 
just food—it's a high-octane mix of bio- / 
chemicals that will kick you into an en- 
chanted "zone" where all systems are per- 
manently on go. The villains are pasta and 
grains (primitive man did fine with neither). 

There is little empirical evidence to sup- 
port Sears! complex theory, and many ex- 
perts dispute the carb bashers. Sears' most 
impressive data come from high-perfor- 
mance athletes—is that you? Be warned, too, 
that this diet can lead to high cholesterol. Re- 
member, with all our genetic differences, no 
diet works for everyone. 

By the way, postholiday crash diets are a bad 
idea. A test at the USDA's human nutrition center in 
San Francisco cut calories in half for 12 overweight vol- 
untcers. Twelve weeks later their natural killer cells—es- 
sential for fighting viral infections and tumors—had 
plunged 35 percent. Do it slow, says the doctor. This 
month's virtue: patience. 


and one third as many of sore throat. While you're awaiting 
confirmation of these findings, you may want to try over-the- 
counter zinc gluconate lozenges (such as Cold-Eeze). For best 
results, start taking the lozenges at the first miserable series of 
sneezes. But stay away from zinc mega- 
dose tablets—too much can be toxic. 


THE PILL—FOR MEN 


That elusive male contraceptive pill 
is closer to reality, thanks to a pilot 
study that used oral hormones to 
drop sperm counts below the fer- 
tility level. The pill inhibits the 
secretion of pituitary hormones 
that prompt the testicles 10 pro- 
duce sperm and testosterone. 
Because the pill replaces testosterone, users 
should be normal in all ways except in the po- 
tential for paternity, according to Dr. William 
Bremner, professor and vice chairman of the 
department of medicine at the University of 
Washington. “In our experimental group of eight men,” Dr. 
Bremner says, “there were no side effects from the pill.” 
With injectable hormones, the same formula achieved 97 
percent contraceptive efficacy in World Health Organiza- 
tion trials involving several hundred men. That's close to 
the female pill and leaves condoms, the most widely used 
male contraceptive method, far behind. And hormone- 
induced infertility seems fully reversible, Bremner says. 


BODY BITS 


New to the gym? Too buff to ask questions? Our 
tip of the month is Big Bob's Workout book—it's 
straightforward, fun and useful. Order it from the 
Knowledge Shoppe, only $14.95 at 888-724-0078. 


WHERE & HOW TO BUY ON PAGE 184 


SPECIAL OFFER! Originally $29.95. Now Only $19.95 
FREE ORAL SEX VIDEO 


All orders will receive a free 28-minute video The Erotic Guide To Oral Sex. 
Discover even more creative ways to ignite intense sexual excitement . 


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Great Lovers 


Are Made, 
Not Born. 


Know How Is Still 
The Best Aphrodisiac. 


M aking love is an art. And like any artistic 
endeavor, the better the technique, the better 
the end result. We believe that each of us, no matter 
how “experienced,” can benefit from learning new skills. 
The Better Sex Video Series introduces new worlds of 
sexual experience by giving you and your partner the 
opportunity to watch, listen, and leam together. 


The Better Sex Video Series helps you master the 
techniques that lead to exciting lovemaking. Each 90- 
minute video balances enlightened commentary by 
Dr. Judy Seifer, a nationally recognized expert on 
sexuality, with beautifully filmed explicit scenes of 


couples in intimate 
situations. The series B terS 
M 


opens doors to areas 
you may not have 
discussed with your 
partner. It tantalizes 
with ideas that may 
be new to you. And 
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36 


MEN 


B ill Gates beat me to the punch a few 

years ago. He made billions by cre- 
ating Microsoft Corp. while I was mak- 
ing 50 cents an hour as a freelance writer 
in Chicago. Which leads to a crucial 
question: How many moneymaking op- 
portunities have I passed by? How many 
times have other folks invented cash 
cows for their wealth and glory while I 
sat around like a motley fool, picking my 
nose and counting my toes? 

Take Steve Jobs, for example. He 
helped start Apple Computer during the 
years I was working on my racquetball 
game. Jobs made a fortune; I hurt my 
knees and can’t run anymore, To add in- 
sult to gimpiness, I also lost the remain- 
der of my membership dues when the 
sports club closed without warning or 
refund. 

It gets worse: The Internet first be- 
came popular just about the time I was 
dating a truly cute woman with a straw- 
berry smile and devious eyes. She loved 
me in spite of myself, and she is still 
around, thank goodness. But she will 
never be able to pay me the millions of 
dollars I might have made had I tended 
to business and got in on the ground 
floor of the Internet. I understand that I 
can't sue her for distracting me (because 
love is love and alll that sappy stuff), But 
sometimes I tend to be confused about 
the subject. 

Talk radio grew into a huge business 
recently. And what was I doing? Watch- 
ing the O.J. Simpson trial, working out 
on my treadmill and reading books 
about aliens. 

I knew that, as Marlon Brando said in 
On the Waterfront, 1 could have been a 
contender. All I had to do was make a 
hard right turn in my politics and jump 
onto the ultraconservative media track. 
But, as usual, I stayed somewhere in the 
middle of the road, able to see both sides 
of too many questions, and 1 let the oth- 
er guys make the outrageous bucks. Did 
it soothe my conscience? Let me put it 
this way: I now see my conscience as a 
small furry animal that should be shot at 
sunrise. 

I may be a latecomer for fortune's car- 
mival ride, but I really want to get into an 
entrepreneurial gig. I want to retire to 
Maui, lie in a hammock under a palm 
tree and smoke illegal substances while 
getting warm-oil massages from beach 
babes. Such is my dream, anyway. I fan- 
tasize that I will think of some dazzling 


By ASA BABER 


TITS & 
ASSETS, INC. 


business endeavor today, put it in play 
tomorrow and take the money and run 
by the weekend. 

My latest idea could make me rich, 
however, so check it out. What І want to 
do, with your help, is initiate a series of 
topless female franchises. 

Please don't reject this concept with- 
out thinking about it. We live in an age 
where female toplessness has been rele- 
gated to certain isolated locations and 
professions. You have your strip clubs 
and table dancers, your massage parlors 
and nude beaches. There is a meager 
supply of breastworks and an incredible 
demand for them, so you know that this 
one could be a winner, Wouldn't our 
lives as men be warmer, kinder, gentler 
and happier if there were more naked 
female breasts around? I know it's a sen- 
sitive subject. But so what? We will let 
all offended wenches picket us unhin- 
dered—we'll need the publicity. 

I can see it now. ГІЇ form a national 
franchising company called Tits & As- 
sets, Inc. I'll think of all the services men 
employ that could use a little spicing up. 
I'll be the chief executive officer, which 
means I will be responsible for taking 
the measurements and giving the physi- 
cal exams. 

This idea of mineis so hot! We will cer- 
tainly infiltrate every profession by the 
year 2002, I promise. Here is my target 


list, for starters: 

Topless female dentists. Had enough of 
fear and trembling in the dentist's chair? 
“Too much nitrous oxide got you down? 
Go to a topless dentist and experience 
the kind of pain relief you never imag- 
ined you could find there 

Topless TV anchorwomen, weather fore- 
casters and talk-show hosts. Television is a 
wasteland today, and this concept of 
mine would shake up the networks. Let's 
have some new, uh, faces on-screen. 
We're all fair-minded guys, so if Diane 
Sawyer, Kathie Lee Gifford, Joan Lun- 
den, Valerie Voss and Oprah Winfrey 
want to audition for these slots, we'll let 
them. But they'd better be good! 

Topless tax accountants. Y would sure like 
some nice globes to look at while I try to 
match contributions with deductions. 
This could be what a taxpayer's revolt 
really needs. The IRS usually wins by 
boring the crap cut of us with 10,000 
pages of tax code. Throw some sweet 
nipples in there and let's see what 
happens. 

Topless human resource directors. Person- 
ally, I think this one might be the best 
idea of the lot. Call it knockers for losers 
or tits for nits. Since men are being laid 
off at an astonishingly high rate, why 
shouldn't they have something nice to 
stare at during those insipid outsourcing 
interviews? After all, it might be the last 
time the workplace gives them anything. 

Topless beach volleyball players. We see 
them all the time on the tube. They are 
tall women, rangy and tough, and they 
could spike you through the mattress. 
Don't you sometimes wonder about 
these amazons? Tits & Assets, Inc. will 
help you find out! 

Topless magazine staffers. How could I 
ignore the women Ї work with? Only 
yesterday, one of them stopped me by 
the fax machine and charged me with 
doing nothing but degrading women in 
my work. I don't buy that sort of accusa- 
tion for a minute. ] told her that she may 
not realize it, but | feel a lot of pressure 
producing a Men column every month, 
even at a fun place like PLAYBOY. A guy 
can get really tense and lonely some- 
times, I said, and there's nothing like a 
happy set of hooters to brighten the day. 
Then she hit me with a solid right hook 
to the jaw, which gave me another idea: 
Topless female boxers! 


WOMEN 


"m not saying, not at all, that this is 

going to be my last column. I'm sure 
there are plenty of things I might yet 
write about. If you don't panic, I won't. 

Last year at this time I was in Australia 
on a book tour. During a million inter- 
views, I had to keep talking about my- 
self, which is somewhat less fun than you 
may think. 

“So, is there a man in your life?” I was 
asked 42,000 times. 

And God help me, I told them all 
about the man in my life. I made an 
entire human being into shtick. “Yeah, 
he's a construction worker. You may not 
know it, but women are into rough trade 
now. It's the latest thing." I even made a 
game attempt to extrapolate and explain 
this relationship as a bona fide sociologi- 
cal phenomenon: 

"Because women are no longer de- 
fined by their men, no longer evaluated 
by the company we keep, we no longer 
need men who make more money than 
wc do or have superior social standing. 
We just need someone vith a good heart 
who likes animals." At the time this 
seemed like a sound theory. Sure, I was 
flying in the face of the human biological 
imperative, but what the hell. 

1 got home from Australia and broke 
up with the construction worker and got 
a good half a dozen columns out of 
it, plus many delightful hours of post- 
mortem coffee talk with my girlfriends 

Then I met another guy and immedi- 
ately went to England on a book tour. 
Again every interviewer wanted not only 
the broad outlines of my romantic life 
but every nuance as well, I trotted out 
my “meet cute” story for radio, TV and 
print, a story that, trust me, by the third 
time you hear it will make you just as 
nauseated as I was. 

My English girlfriends were riveted by 
the new romance, especially since this 
guy seemed to send e-mail with every 
third breath. The e-mail was, of course, 
read, cataloged, cross-indexed and ex- 
haustively analyzed by the girls. Three 
dinners alone were spent on e-mail 
number seven, in which the L word 
reared its ugly head. 

“This is so wonderful. 1 am living 
through you vicariously,” said Gillian. “I 
don't think my pulse rate has been this 
high in years. When you're married you 
don't get to discuss your sex life or the L 
word or anything with your girlfriends.” 

(Gillian got married five years ago. Be- 


By CYNTHIA HEIMEL 


COMPLICITY, 
HE SAID 


fore she married Gilbert I was privy to 
everything. Gilbert couldn't say “Not 
tonight, poppet, I have a headache” 
without my hearing of it within 15 min- 
utes. If Gillian had to, she'd call me from 
the bathroom.) 

“Well, Gillian, how is married life? Are 
you two happy?" I asked. 

“We're perfectly fine,” she said quell- 
ingly, giving me the hairy eyeball. 

Fortunately for my writing life, my 
new romantic interest turned out to be, 
not to put too fine a point on it, an utter 
creep. Oh, the columns about the fights! 
The interminable two А.М. conferences 
with friends! 

“I feel like I'm piloting this ship 
alone,” I said to Woodrow, a pal I met on 
the Well, which is an online BBS for writ- 
ers and other creative nut jobs. Wood- 
row writes columns for the alternative 
press, like I do. When I'd see what he 
wrote on this BBS, I'd invariably die 
laughing. We exchanged scads of e-mail, 
and when my relationship with creep- 
boy started crashing and burning we 
spent hours on the phone. 

“Get out now, leave everything, don't 
pack even an overnight case!" he would 
shout. He took to calling at two A.M. 
(Pacific time) just to make sure that 
I hadn't overdosed or anything, and 
I would tell him everything. One night I 
was sniffing and hiccuping from a re- 


cent sobbing frenzy. 

“The thing is, pumpkin,” Woodrow 
said, “good relationships should be 
based on complicity, and yours isn't.” 

Complicity? This was an entirely new 
concept. Sure, I'd fantasized that some- 
day I'd find someone and it would be the 
two of us against the world, the dream 
team taking on all comers. But the only 
time I'd experienced such a dynamic 
was as a mother. My son and I constant- 
ly watch each other's backs and bring. 
each other chicken soup 

But complicity with a lover? Nah. In 
my universe, lovers were more like en- 
emies. There were inevitable power 
struggles, infidelities, those hideous 
commitment conversations, the with- 
holding of love or sex or both, plus the 
ever-popular I-don’t-care-about-you-as- 
much-as-you-care-about-me dynamic. 
To me, complicity meant hanging with 
my girlfriends, plotting various relation- 
ship maneuvers. 

Complicity, huh? That must be why 
married people are so markedly mute. 
"They are involved in something that has 
nothing to do vith these bloody sieges 
I call romance. Instead of emotional 
bungee jumping, these people are do- 
ing loyalty, compassion and trust. How 
goofy is that? 

“You interest me strangely with that 
complicity word,” I told Woodrow, then 
made arrangements to actually meet 
him, put a face to the yoice, spend an 
afternoon careening around Acres of 
Books in Long Beach, California. 

We're married now. I took one look 
at him, gasped and melted into a pud- 
dle. After 12 hours together we kissed 
for the first time. Oh my God. Then I 
sped home at 90 miles an hour to make 
the phone call to formally break up with 
Mr. Wrong. 

Woodrow and I drove to Vegas barely 
a month later, braving the stark conster- 
nation of my single friends, who fear 
that I will lose my touch for determining 
the precise reason why the latest guy 
said he would call and then disappeared. 

But I won't lose my touch. I've been in 
the trenches with my gal pals much too 
long. I just won't be talking about my re- 
lationship that way, not anymore, not to 
anybody. 

Not even to you. 


37 


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Recently a couple wrote the Advisor 
asking why sex felt better after they 
shaved their pubic hair. Years ago, my 
husband shaved his genitals, and love- 
g just wasn't the same until the 
hair grew back. That's because one of my 
favorite parts of foreplay is when he 
slides his erection back and forth on my 
belly while I wrap my legs around his 
lower back. His rocking causes the hair 
on his testicles to tickle my clitoris, vagi- 
nal lips and anus. If he lowers his pelvis 
a bit, the weight of his testicles feels 
warm and comforting, like a blanket be- 
tween my legs. He could probably make 
me come just by swinging his testicles, 
but I don’t think he has the willpower 
because he always slides inside me after a 
few minutes, Have you ever heard of this 
move?—PK., Baltimore, Maryland 
Sure. It's called the clacker or the pendu- 
lum fuck, It's not hard, but it does take balls. 


When my husband and I heard that 
Whitehall-Robins was going to stop mak- 
ing the Today contraceptive sponge, we 
went to Canada and purchased a year's 
supply. But when we went back a few 
months ago, the sponge no longer was 
available there, either. This is truly de- 
pressing. The sponge is comfortable, 
easy tn use and reliable, at least as much 
as the diaphragm, which is what we're 
stuck with now. I'd go a long way to be 
able to use it again. How far, you ask? Do 
they sell the sponge in Asia?—R.S., De- 
troit, Michigan 

No need for that. A Canadian pharma- 
ceutical company, Axcan Ltd., has intro- 
duced a sponge that it says works better than 
Today. Sold over the counter in Canada, 
Protectaid is made of polyurethane foam and 
filled with low concentrates of three spermi- 
cides. Axcan says this formula causes less 
vaginal irritation than the nonoxynol 9 used 
in Today, which, in turn, makes it more 
efficient at preventing sexually transmitted 
diseases. According to early tests, the moist- 
ened Protectaid sponge is 90 percent effec- 
tive in preventing pregnancy (compared 
with a failure rate of up to 28 percent for To- 
day). At the Toronto office of Planned Par- 
enthood, where some of the staff and many 
clients have used Prolectaid, the only com- 
plaint so far is that the device can be tricky 
to remove. The organization recommends us- 
ing Prolectaid with a condom to ensure 
maximum protection against disease. Axcan 
hopes to secure FDA approval to sell the 
sponge in the U.S. within two years. 


Wears ago 1 had little or no interest in 
sex. In the past couple of years I have 
gradually come out of my shell and start- 
ed to enjoy it, especially after my hus- 
band bought me a vibrator. Now I'm 
having fantasies about sleeping with an- 


other person. I met a woman through a 
newspaper dating service, and we have 
talked on the phone several times and 
plan to meet for lunch soon. We are both 
new to this and extremely nervous. She 
seems kind and gentle, but 1 can't help 
this incredible feeling of guilt, like I'm 
cheating on my husband. What should I 
do?—TR., Portland, Oregon 

You've come a long way, baby. Talk with 
your husband about the situation; if he's the 
type of guy who will buy you a vibrator to 
help you explore your sexuality, he’s probably 
the type who will understand your fantasies. 
Although nothing has developed beyond a 
lunch date, you are deceiving him by detour- 
ing your sexual life around him. You also 
need to be clear about your intentions: Are 
you simply fulfilling a fantasy, or are you 
looking for something more? 


Do you know anything about hiring 
strippers via the World Wide Web? Ap- 
parently there's software that allows you 
to watch them on your screen and have 
them do whatever you ask. Is this for re- 
al, or just cyberhype?—R.S., San Diego, 
California 

It's called video teleconferencing, and it's 
the same lechnology business executives use 
to participate in faraway meetings. At last 
count there were more than 125 strip clubs 
on the Web (for alist, point your browser to 
www.yahoo.com/Business_and_Economy/ 
Companies/Sex/Conferencing). Before a 
stripper lands on your screen to respond to 
your typed instructions or voice commands, 
you must connect your computer to the club, 
download its viewing software and provide 
your credit card number. Like traditional 
gentlemen's clubs, the online variety are usu- 
ally overdesigned eyesores with corny names 


ILLUSTRATION BY ISTVAN BANYAL 


(Babes4U, Cyberpeep, StripperNel) and a 
gaggle of “eager” women waiting to “serve 
Jour every need.” A stripper al one site even 
offers tips on how to be a good customer: “(1) 
Introduce yourself. It’s always nice to know 
who Em with. (2) Ask me to do something sil- 
ly like holding up three fingers to prove this 
is real. (3) Tell me to take off my clothes, 1 
love working in the nude! (4) Zoom in for a 
close-up. (5) Tell me what you want me to do. 
1 love hot chat!” The downside, of course, is 
the price, which starts in the neighborhood of 
$5 a minute. Don't waste any time playing 
with your mouse. 


IM) girlfriend and I were watching an 
adult video when it stated, “This prod- 
uct and all graphical materials associated 
with it are exempt from the require- 
ments of 18 U.S.C. Section 2257 because 
all visual depictions of sexually explicit 
conduct appearing therein were made 
before July 3, 1995.” What gives? —R.R., 
San Francisco, California 

Since that date, the producers of adult 
books, videos and magazines have been re- 
quired to record the legal names, birth dates 
and pseudonyms of their models and per- 
formers for inspection by the FBI or Attorney 
General's office. The producers must also 
publish the street address of their record 
keeper. It's part of an amendment to the 
Child Protection Act championed by Senator 
Jesse Helms. That any minors are protected 
by the amendment is unlikely—if you made 
child pornography, would you be concerned 
about Uncle Sam's paperwork demands? 
Publishers such as Brenda Loew of the sex 
magazine “Eidos” have refused to comply, 
arguing that the act is an invasion of priva- 
су and that revealing her address would 
jeopardize her safety. As with mast laws de- 
signed to control sex, the statute is vague. If 
a mouth is reaching for an erection but nol 
touching it, is that “actual” sex or "simulat- 
ed” sex (which is exempted from the act)? Or 
how about photos that appear with the per- 
sonals in some adult magazines? Having to 
send your birth certificate to a stranger kind 
of hills the appeal of an anonymous ad. 


My boyfriend is always asking me to 
touch myself during sex. He says it real- 
ly turns him on, but I find it awkward. 
Why does this excite him so much? 
About the last thing I'd want to do is 
watch him beat off —R.T., Pittsburgh, 
Pennsylvania 

‘Are you sure? Ask him to make himself 
hard the next time he climbs out of the show- 
ex, and then measure your reaction. Besides 
enjoying the show, guys love watching a 
woman masturbate, fondle her breasts or run 
her hands up and down her body because it 
provides them with a sense of erotic accom- 
plishment. To turn a lover on feels great, but 
to turn her on so much that she has to touch 


39 


PLAYBOY 


herself—now there’s a reason to notch the 
bedpost. As one sex expert put it years ago, “A 
woman who indulges in autoerotism during 
sex is saying, ‘What you're doing to me feels 
so good that I have to do something to me, 
too.” It's like scoring twice on the same play. 


W want to get my nipples pierced as an 
anniversary present to my wife. What's 
the pain factor? And do the rings have to 
be worn all the time, or can they be tak- 
en out once in a while?—C.K., Phoenix, 
Arizona 

The piercing should take only a second, 
but it will hurt, though—ij not during, then 
afier. One friend who had both nipples 
pierced said the worst moment was after the 
first and before the second, because he knew 
what was coming. Another rated il more 
painful than a shot in the arm but less than 
а hand in the car door For a week after the 
piercing, your nipples will be especially ten- 
der. You will have to wear rings (easier to 
clean) or barbells (more comfortable for some 
people) for four to six months during the 
healing phase. An additional three to six 
months is necessary before the jewelry can be 
removed without the holes closing. On the 
other hand, there are rewards: Piercings can 
enhance the already sensitive arcolae and 
nipples, or at least entice your partner to 
play with them more (“pull here, honey”). 
Your nipples will also probably remain erect. 
One writer described the procedure as 
“paving a four-lane expressway between my 
tit and the pleasure center of my brain.” If 
you decide to travel that route, chovse an ex- 
qerienced piercing artist. For more informa- 
tion, visit Anne Greenblatt’s Piercing FAQ 
on the Web at wwu.cs.ruu.nl/wais/html/ 
nadii/bodyart/.html. 


Ater buying a standard black tuxedo, 
I decided on a wing-collar shirt. Should 
the collar be shown in front of or behind 
the bow tie?—T.R., Cleveland, Ohio 

Behind. It looks better, and you could hurt 
someone with those things. 


My girlfriend and I have been togeth- 
er for a year and a half, and lately we've 
been fighting every day. She has to know 
where I am, who I'm with, what time I 
come home and the answers to another 
1000 questions that go with it. I tell her 
to take it easy, but she says she doesn't 
see any harm in asking questions. The 
situation has become much tougher in 
the past couple of months since several 
other women have piqued my interest. 
"They are as beautiful as and probably 
more mature than the woman I’m with. 
What should I do? Keep in mind that I 
still love my girlfriend.—N.R., Philadel- 
phia, Pennsylvania 

Have you considered an electronic moni- 
toring system? Or maybe you should just give 
your girlfriend one of those Magic 8 Balls— 
the YES, NO, MAYBE type. We never thought 
interrogation was the secret to intimacy. On 


40 the other hand, your lover's suspicions are 


not unfounded. Decide what you want and 
follow your interest. 


1 have an unusual problem. Whenever 
I'm making love and about to climax, I 
begin to laugh. Sometimes it is a huge 
belly laugh, sometimes just a chuckle. 
The more intense the orgasm, the loud- 
er I laugh. My reaction makes it difficult 
to keep partners. No matter how hard I 
try to explain, they think I'm laughing at 
them. I've tried everything I know to 
keep quiet, induding pinching myself 
and stuffing socks in my mouth. I am 
now seeing a woman I'm crazy about, 
but I’m hesitant to make love to her. 
What should I do?—N.N., Sacramento, 
California 

We can understand that your lovers 
would question your situation, but many 
people report spontaneous laughter, yawn- 
ing, sneezing, crying or sighing during or- 
gasm—reactions consistent with the release 
of tension. Because your laughter is persis- 
tent, you may suffer from gelous seizures, 
which are triggered by the wave of pleasur- 
able impulses that spreads through your ner- 
vous system during climax (a related condi- 
tion is gelasmus, or hysterical laughter). 
Neurologists typically diagnose the condition 
after a brain scan and control it with pre- 
scription drugs. If you don’t expect your cur- 
rent relationship to lead into the bedroom 
immediately, hold off on sex until you can see 
a doctor and have the last laugh. 


What is the worker's positionz—k.A., 
Oakland, California 

We've heard it described as any position in 
which you're being screwed. But according to 
Brenda Venus, author of “Seduction Secrets 
for Women,” it’s similar to making spoons. 
Instead of both partners curling together on 
their sides, only the man does while the wom- 
an lies on her back. She lifts the leg closest to 
her partner and places it over his pelvis. Ly- 
ing on his side, he puts his top leg between 
her legs, then slides inside her. If the coordi- 
nates are right, he should be able to kiss and 
suck on one of her breasts as he thrusts. 
Venus says it's called the worker's position 
because it allows you to rest after a long day. 


I enjoyed your reply to the reader who 
wondered what makes a great kiss. But 
what about that old standby, the French 
kiss? My girlfriend says she hates the 
feeling of my tongue in her mouth. 
What am I doing wrong?—T.R., Atlanta, 
Georgia 

A common complaint among women is 
that men soul-kiss them (as the French call it) 
by shoving in their tongues unexpectedly, 
turning what should be a penetrating mo- 
ment into a sloppy mistake. The tongue kiss 
should be slow and delicate and should hap- 
pen naturally rather than being forced. Use 
the tip of your tongue to gently explore her 
lips, teeth and tongue. Don't dart in and out, 
and don't extend so far that you lose control. 
Circle the tip of her tongue with the tip of 


your own, then chase it. As the kiss becomes 
more passionate, lick the sides, underside 
and top of her tongue. Extend your longue 
farther only after she's noticeably aroused — 
or when she's kissing you back so passionate- 
ty you have no choice. 


A few months back Time reported a de- 
velopment in the field of tissue engineer- 
ing: A mouse with a human ear growing 
out of its back was used to demonstrate 
the possibility that ears, pieces of skin 
and noses could be grown to replace 
damaged ones. That article got me 
thinking. Could tissue engineering be 
used for penis enlargement? If so, it 
would be the most lucrative medical pro- 
cedure since heart surgery—PF, Taco- 
ma, Washington 

If you're having trouble reading the words 
scientific breakthrough without thinking of 
your penis, we suggest counseling. We're en- 
couraged, though, by the idea that tissue en- 
gineering could someday allow physicians to 
regenerate penises for boys born with defor- 
mities or for men who lose theirs in accidents 
or unfortunate domestic disputes. You don't 
frighten us, Lorena. 


Occasionally the Advisor will mention 
people with offbeat sexual tastes, such 
as the guy who liked watching women 
smoke. Do fetishes have scientific names, 
as phobias and medical conditions do? 
What would a sex scientist call a man 
who lusts after smokers?—R.T. Seattle, 
Washington 

Inside the lab, he’s a capnolagnist. Out- 
side, he’s the guy who always has a light. 
One of our favorite parts of Brenda Love's 
“Encyclopedia of Unusual Sex Practices” is 
the glossary, where we learned scientific 
names for sexual preferences such as acroto- 
mophilia (amputees), actirasy (sunlight), 
antholagnia (smelling flowers), ecdemo- 
lagnia (traveling), gregomulcia (being fon- 
dled in a crowd), harpaxophilia (being 
robbed), hirsutophilia (armpit hair), mo- 
riaphilia (telling dirty jokes), odontophilia 
(dental work), pygotripsis (rubbing some- 
one's buttocks) and tripsolagnia (having 
your hair shampooed). Scrabble, anyone? 


АШ reasonable questions—from fashion, food 
and drink, stereo and sports cars to dat- 
ing dilemmas, taste and etiquette—will be 
personally answered if the writer includes a 
self-addressed, stamped 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, Illi- 
nois 60611. Look for responses to our mast 
frequently asked questions on the World Wide 
Web at htip:/furuxu playboy.com/fag, or check 
out the Advisor's new book, "365 Ways to 
Improve Your Sex Life” (Plume), available 
in bookstores or by phoning 800-423-9494. 


THE P 


LAYBOY FORUM 


ШШ JAIL BRIT mm 


politicians dust off old sex laws to combat teen pregnancy 


It takes a statistic. 

For decades politicians and funda- 
mentalists have railed against teen 
pregnancy. Births to unwed mothers 
are epidemic, they charge, the result 
of promiscuity, our permissive society, 
sex, drugs and rock and roll. 

Conservatives stare at the repro- 
ductive organs of teenage girls, pencil 
in hand. In 1993, columnist George 
Will passed along these figures: “This 
year 10 million teenagers will engage 
in 126 million acts of sexual inter- 
course resulting in more than 1 mil- 
lion pregnancies, 406,000 abortions, 
134,000 miscarriages and 490,000 
births, about 64 percent (313,000) of 
them illegitimate. In 1988, 11,000 
American babies were born to fe- 
males under 15. In 1990, 32 per- 
cent of ninth-grade females (ages 
14 and 15) had had sexual inter- 
course. Seventeen percent of 
12th-grade girls had had four 
or more partners.” 

It's difficult to tell which number 
bothered him most. Will and other 
conservatives bemoan the social cost 
of teen pregnancy. They see sexually 
active girls as future welfare queens, 
but are strangely silent on the role of 
sexually active males, at most saying 
that boys are unfit or unready for fa- 
therhood. The typical villains are the 
philosophy of hedonism and the sex- 
ual revolution. 

The conservative case is fraught 
with contradictions. Sex education 
should focus on abstinence; any other 
form of birth control condoned sex 
or was deemed impossible. The two 
researchers who fed Will his figures 
declared: “Adolescents who cannot 
remember to hang up their bath tow- 
els may be just as unlikely to use con- 
traceptives.” Abortion was never an 
option. 

Last year the debate changed dra- 
matically. A study by the Alan Gutt- 
macher Institute revealed that not all 
teens were wrestling in the backseat 
with other teens. More than half of 
teenage mothers (ages 15 to 17) were 
impregnated by men over the age 
of 20. 

Suddenly the boy next door, a few 
years older, was demonized as a sexu- 
al predator. Politicians, without tak- 


ing an objective look, now view teen 
mothers not as sluts or parasites but 
as victims. 

California governor Pete Wilson 
saw a way to turn antiwelfare senti- 
ments into a sex-crime crusade. He 
dusted off California's law against 
statutory rape and ser aside $8.4 mil- 

lion to prosecute 
men who en- 
gage in sex 

with teenage 


girls. “I have this 


just wrong, not just 
a shame. It's a crime 

called statutory rape. 

It's not macho to get a 

teenager pregnant. But 

if you lack the decency to 
understand that yourself, we'll give 
you a year to think about it in the 
county jail.” 

California lawmakers saw a chance 
to get tough on crime and immedi- 
ately ratcheted up penalties: a sec- 
ond-time offender can be locked up 
for nine years and face $25,000 in 
fines. Other states joined in the stam- 
pede. Washington, New York, Geor- 
gia and Florida drafted tougher laws 
or ordered strict enforcement of ex- 


By STEPHANIE GOLDBERG 


isting statutes. 

Time described the trend with this 
headline: PUTTING THE JAIL IN JAILBAIT. 

The rush to punish allowed politi- 
cians to stereotype: Women are help- 
less victims of male aggression, men 
are callous seducers who abandon 
their vulnerable targets. These stock 
characters are as old as our age-of- 
consent laws. 

Until the end of the last century, 
the age of consent was ten. Marriage 
between older, established males and 
younger females was more than com- 
mon. No one spoke of predatory 
males or jailbait. Beginning in the 
1880s, feminists fought to raise the 
age of consent to protect female inno- 
cence. The crusade was based on the 
idea that men were "vicious"—i.e., 
possessed of depraved sexual ap- 
petites—while women were virtuous 
and asexual. Leaders of the Women’s 
Christian Temperance Union urged 
that “the age at which a girl can legal- 
ly consent to her own ruin be raised 
to at least 18 years.” The campaign 
was spectacularly successful. The re- 
sulting laws currently range from 14 
in Hawaii and Pennsylvania to 18 in 

14 other states. 

The obvious gender bias and 

stereotyping of women as sexually 

pure or as helpless victims 

made these laws objection- 

able to feminists in the 

Sixties, Seventies and 

Eighties who did not see 

sex as the road to ruin. 

Many jurisdictions al- 

lowed the age-of-consent 

laws to languish. Females were as ca- 

pable as males of lust, and they were 

deemed capable of making sexual 
choices, even bad ones. 

Now the call for protection is 
heard once again. The justification 
this time around is that girls can't 
sufficiently envision the long-range 
consequences of their actions and 
can't effectively consent to becoming 
mothers. 


ARBITRARY LAWS 


In 1965 researchers at the Institute 
for Sex Research studied sex offend- 
ers. They tried to distinguish between 


crimes based on violence and 


4 


coercion and those produced by 
changing standards. Their findings 
questioned the arbitrariness of age-of- 
consent laws: 

“There is great danger in assuming, 
as we do, that maturity can be accu- 
rately calibrated in years. If we insist 
that sociosexual activity be restricted to 
the emotionally and intellectually ma- 
ture, we should logically withhold per- 
mission from vast numbers of individu- 
als aged beyond the magic 21. In our 
culture, whether a given type of sexual 
behavior is permissible or not depends 
largely on the age of the participants: 
Virginity in a teenager is laudable, 
whereas in a 40-year-old it is patholog- 
ical. If John, aged 21, has an affair 


declaration of war, California prosecu- 
tors said that they would file charges 
only in cases where the accused is an 
adult and the accuser is 13 years or 
younger or where there is more than a 
three-year age difference between the 
father and the mother. Two San Diego 
cases showed a distinct double stan- 
dard: A 19-year-old cabinetmaker was 
prosecuted for bedding his 13-year- 
old girlfriend. The girl wanted to get 
married. The age difference appears 
shocking, but was he predatory? The 
attorney pointed out that both came 
from a rural part of Mexico where such 
mismatched romances are not uncom- 
mon. The cabinetmaker pleaded guilty 


spokesperson for the district attorney's 
office revealed that men who impreg- 
nate young women had been targeted 
“because the children resulting from 
these unions are most likely to wind up 
later in the juvenile and adult criminal 
justice system." 

But age difference does not produce 
criminal offspring. Older men have al- 
ways fathered children with youn- 
ger women. A story in The Denver Post 
pointed out that in 1920, 93 percent of 
babies born to underage mothers were 
fathered by adults. The adults hap- 
pened to be husbands. Their children 
were not more likely to end up in the 
criminal justice system. The overall 

rate of teen pregnancy has not 


with the 30-year-old divorcée who 
works in Joe's Bar, society remains 
indifferent. But if John has an af- 
fair with a 16- or 17-year-old, the 
picture is quite different: Now so- 
ciety does not look upon him as 
merely a sower of wild oats or a 
lucky man. John is now a cor- 
rupter of youth, an affront to 
morality and a statutory rapist.” 
The Kinsey researchers also 
warned of the hidden conse- 
quences of laws that ignore the 
past: “Until this century, when we 
artificially prouacted childhuud, 
the 16-year-old female was con- 
sidered sufficiently mature, intel- 
lectually and emotionally, to func- 
tion as an adult member of society. 
We forget that in treating teen- 
agers as children we encourage 
them to behave as children.” 
Look at the accompanying age- 
of-consent breakdown. Are girls 
in Hawaii more responsible at 14 
than are 18-year-old girls in Ar- | 
kansas? Do laws or upbringing ac- 
complish the goal of adulthood? 
Representatives of the Washing- 
ton, D.C.-based Progressive 
Foundation—one of the groups 
drawing attention to the male- 
predator blueprint—admitted: 
“There has been no effort—at ei- 
ther the national or state level—to | 
examine the adequacy and effec- 
tiveness of policies and statutes de- 
signed to deal with predatory sexual 
activity directed at young females.” 
Actually, our nation has had a great 
deal of experience with sex laws. Not 
surprisingly, some observers warned 
that jailbait laws might be used selec- 
tively—to punish minority men. Or 
that a weapon that drew on an old prej- 
udice—against unwed teenage moth- 
ers living in poverty—might touch 
others. 
In the wake of Governor Wilson's 


RULES OF ENGAGEMENT 


Below, a state breakdown, grouped 
by the respective ages of consent: 


14: Hawaii, Pennsylvania 
15; Colorado, South Carolina 


16: Alabama, Connecticut, Dela- 
ware, District of Columbia, Geor- 
gia, Indiana, lowa, Kansas, Ken- 
tucky, Maine, Maryland, Massa- 
chusetts, Michigan, Minnesota, 
Montana, Nebraska, Nevada, New 
Hampshire, New Jersey, North 
Carolina, Ohio, Rhode Island, 
South Dakota, Utah, Vermont, 
Washington, West Virginia, 


Wyoming 


17: Louisiana, Missouri, New Mex- 
ico, New York, Texas 


18: Alaska, Arkansas, Arizona, Cal- 
ifornia, Florida, Idaho, Illinois, 
Mississippi, North Dakota, Okla- 
homa, Oregon, Tennessee, Vir- 
ginia, Wisconsin 


toa felony. 

On the same day in the same court, 
a 51-year-old lawyer was charged with 
a misdemeanor for having sex with a 
15-year-old. 

The sentencing seems arbitrary and 
discriminatory. Because cooler heads 
prevailed, the cabinetmaker received a 
suspended sentence, and the lawyer 
was sentenced to one year in jail. In 
San Diego, most of the defendants in 
statutory rape cases are represented by 
public defenders (i.e., they are poor). A 


changed in the past century; what 
has changed is the rate of illegiti- 
mate births. Prosecuting unwed 
or absentee fathers as predators 
ignores an important trend: Men 
have been pushed out of the equa- 
tion. Feminists who a hundred 
years ago would have asked for 
protection have for the past few 
decades argued that children do 
not need fathers, that women do 
not have to put up with “the un- 
tidiness and other burdens they 
associate with married life in or- 
dei to have children.” Aud public- 
ity that focuses on a few cases 
of pregnant 13-ycar-olds—wherc 
abuse is clear—taints the real phe- 
nomenon of teen pregnancy. Most 
births to teen mothers are to older 
teens. In 1993, for example, of 
514,000 births in the U.S. to 
teens, about 13,000 were to girls 
under the age of 15; 191,000 were 
to females 15 to 17 years of age; 
and 311,000 were to women 18 
and 19. 

Statutory rape laws that bring 
the father into the equation only 
as a criminal do not seem the wis- 
est course. Far from being preda- 
tors, some of the men targeted by 
this law may be as luckless as their 


partners. 
WHAT TEENAGERS WANT 
Going All the Way: Teenaged Girls Talk 
of Sex, Romance and Pregnancy, a book 
by Sharon Thompson, presents anec- 
dotal evidence that suggests some girls 
want to get pregnant. Thompson inter- 
viewed 400 teenage girls from diverse 
backgrounds and discovered that those 
who had the bleakest futures saw love, 
sex, marriage and pregnancy as inter- 
twined. They sought out older men for 
security—men who were out in the 
world, held jobs and theoretically 
would be the best providers. That fam- 


ily and responsibility aren't on the 
guy's mind may not occur to the girl 
who wants her “first love, first sex and 
first pregnancy” to last forever. 

Indeed, one reviewer saw the girls 
in Thompson’s survey as calculating: 
“Girls talk about intercourse (which 
seems to be the only kind of sex that is 
meaningful for them) as a means to an 
end. Some trade virginity for ‘true 
love,’ an exchange that generally leads 
to victimization. Others see sexual initi- 
ation as akin to the SATs—something 
to get out of the way before college. 
And while the girls with adult male 
lovers generally reported enjoying sex, 
they, too, operated on a barter system, 
often swapping their 
erotic favors for surro- | 
gate fathering.” 

Peggy Orenstein saw a 
major irony in Thomp- 
son's girls: “In fact, those 
who push a so-called 
family-values agenda in 
Congress might be inter- 
ested to learn that the | 
more traditional a girl's 
view of sex—that is, the 
more she associated it 
with love and reproduc- 
tion as opposed to desire, 
and the more she saw 
love and reproduction 
providing central mean- 
ing in her life—the less 
likely she was to protect 
herself against disease 
and pregnancy.” 

Should we create a 
crime called statutory ro- 
mance? Felonious family 
values? 

Not everyone joined 
Pete Wilson's crusade 
against so-called predato- 
ry males. Much to his dis- 
may, the Los Angeles Times 
reported that social 
workers, rather than turn 
over unwed fathers to 
prosecutors, had coun- 
seled partners to marry. | 
The governor and femi- 
nists were outraged—how could the 
courts force a victim to live with her 
abuser? How could they circumvent 
the age of consent? Perhaps because 
they saw those involved as people 
rather than as statistics. 

Social workers had uncovered the 
Nineties equivalent of the shotgun: In 
California the age of consent is 18—un- 
less a parent or court gives consent to 
marriage. Prosecutors who had com- 
plained that they could never get girls 
to testify against their so-called 


abusers—because they were in love 
with them—had ignored the obvious. 
Throw away the bombast and you 
could create families. 


SOMETHING OLD, SOMETHING BLUE 


But puritan America has always fa- 
vored punishment over empower- 
ment. A county prosecutor in Idaho 
used a 76-year-old law to go after the 
sinful. The law states that “any unmar- 
ried person who shall have sex with an 
unmarried person of the opposite sex 
shall be found guilty of fornication.” 
The county prosecutor simply took 
the list of pregnant teenagers who had 
applied for welfare benefits and started 


having them—and their boyfriends— 
arrested. 

On the face of it, the action is dis- 
criminatory—the “fornicators” who 
didn't make a baby, or who did but re- 
ceived no welfare, were not nabbed. 

William F. Buckley, the archconser- 
vative who has long mourned the pass- 
ing of such shaming invectives as "bas- 
tard" and "illegitimate," rose to the 
defense of such tactics. He applauded 
the use of prosecutorial discretion, a 
doctrine that means “you can't defy the 


cop who stops you for speeding on the 
grounds that he didn't stop the other 
guy for speeding.” 

Surveys suggest that 76 percent of 
USS. females have sex while they are in 
their teens. The average American 
starts having sex eight years before 
marriage. 

The Idaho prosecutor is going after 
only the young and the poor. The mes- 
sage: We don't care that you're poor, so 
long as you don’t reproduce. 

Columnist Ellen Goodman pointedly 
remarked that the state was not pun- 
ishing sin, it was punishing a crime 
against the public coffers. Conserva- 
tives tend to view tax money as theirs 
alone—to be spent on 
“traditional” families, 
namely their families. 

“What kind of message 
would we send if we tol- 
erated sex between chil- 
dren?" the local sheriff 
asked. “We would be say- 
ing, ‘We condone your 
promiscuousness, and if 
you get pregnant and 
you're 14 years old, the 
citizens will pay for your 
mistake.’ That is the 
wrong message to send. I 
believe 99 percent of dhe 
citizens in Gem County 
do not condone sexual 
activity between kids un- 
der 18. Personally, I 
would say 99 percent of 
the citizens do not con- 
done sexual activity 
among unmarried peo- 
ple, period. There are 
high moral standards in 
Gem County.” 

What the sheriff fails to 
realize is that few, if any, 
of these mothers view 
their children as mis- 
takes. They embrace 
motherhood as the one 
meaningful thing they 
will do with their lives. 
Those who don't listen to 
pleas to put off child- 
rearing until they finish high school 
won't be swayed by law. 

Of course, once you bring a law back 
from the dead, there's no telling how it 
will behave. A police chief in Mountain 
Home, Idaho demanded that one of 
his officers marry the woman whose 
child he fathered or face dismissal. 

Seventeen states plus the District of 
Columbia still have fornication laws on 
the books. Before the dust settles, we 
may see the resurrection of scarlet let- 
ters, stocks and public dunkings. 


44 


THE JOY OF (SOLO) SEX 


where did we get the idea it's wrong? 


When then Surgeon General Joyce- 
lyn Elders suggested in 1994 that mas- 
turbation should be taught as part of 
sex education, one important question 
was overlooked: What would we use 
for textbooks? 

Elders lost her job before she could 
answer that question. At the time there 
were two classic texts on the shelves: 
Betty Dodson's Liberating Masturbation: 
A Meditation on Self-Love and Harold 
Litten's Joy of Solo Sex. Last year, two 
more important books were added to 
the reading list: Paula Bennett and 
Vernon Rosario's Solitary Pleasures: The 
Historical, Literary and Artistic Discourses 
of Autoeroticism, which deconstructs tra- 
ditional myths about mastur- 
bation, and Joani Blank’s 
First Person Sexual: Women 
and Men Write About Self- 
Pleasuring, which offers 45 
challenging personal essays. 

As millions of people can 
testify, masturbation is the 
шом important sexual bond 
in the most important rela- 
tionship you'll ever have. 
Reach out and touch your- 
self: It feels good, and 
there’s no sin in that. “If not 
acknowledged for the sim- 
ple pleasure of it, masturba- 
tion is meaningless,” writes 
Blank in her introduction to 
First Person Sexual. “That's 
sufficient reason to do it— 
with enthusiasm, in any 
manner and with whatever 
frequency one chooses.” 

Like its editor, First Person 
Sexual is unabashed and 
evangelical. Just listen as M. 
Christian, one of the contrib- 
utors, pounds the pulpit: 

"Let's get this straight—we all do it. 
Sure, yeah, right: ‘Not me,’ you say. Sit 
the fuck down and shut the fuck up. 
We all do it. Nuns do it, dogs do it, 
bees do it, Newt Gingrich and Jesse 
Helms do it. (God, what a thought!) 
You say you don't do it? Well, then, 
what leaves the wet spot on the bed, a 
topless Tinkerbell? 

^] masturbate. He masturbates. She 
masturbates. They masturbate. We 
all masturbate. I do it often: horny, 
need to sleep, need to relax, wanna 
get off quick, got a cold, don’t got a 
cold, at home, driving, sleeping (yeah, 


By CHIP ROWE 


Tinkerbell, yeah!), for myself, with 
others—available for weddings, bar 
mitzvahs, etc. 

“Been doing it for years (first time I 
think something like 12—late bloom- 
er), will do it for many more. Do it 
tonight, do it tomorrow, do it with my 
wife, do it with my playmates, do it for 
pay (if anyone’s interested), do it for 
free. You can see me doit, you can hear 
me do it (the movie's out there some- 
where—sorry, they never told me what 
the title was going to be), and I write 
about doing it. Love thyself, damn it!” 

Many people are uncomfortable with 


that idea. Centuries of religious propa- 
ganda has taken its toll. But the moral 
condemnation of masturbation—like 
so many literal readings of spiritual 
teachings—doesn't stand up to scruti- 
ny- In Solitary Pleasures, editors Bennett 
and Rosario point out that the biblical 
verse in Genesis that is often cited to 
condemn masturbation isn’t so cut and 
dried. Onan was punished by God for 
spilling his seed on the ground, but was 
it because he masturbated or because 
he disobeyed a direct order (he was 
supposed to he impregnating his wid- 
owed sister-in-law)? Theologians can't 
decide. Onan wasn't beating off into a 


gourd, after all—he was in bed with a 
partner. 

In his sermon on the self-mount, 

Christian suggests an alternative: 
“Masturbation should be prayer. It 
should be the way we show our love for 
the God/dess in ourselves (how better 
to show he/she/it a really good time?). 
No more of these white-haired old men 
yelling at us from inside their million- 
dollar temples about a hateful God 
that forbids us to yank or rub it. Nah, 
we should tune in every morning to 
the right kind of prayer— Put your 
hands where they belong, brothers and 
sisters, and give unto yourselves the 
pleasure that is God/dess’ gift to you. 
Rub yourselves with me, 
dear people, feel the rising 
power of prayer in you— 
and remember to clean up 
afterward." 

The schoolboy myth that 

masturbation is degenera- 
tive dates back almost three 
centuries, to (he 1710 pub- 
lication of Onania, or the 
Heinous Sin of Self-Pollution. 
Like one or two quacks be- 
fore him, its author believed 
that seminal discharge 
caused humoral disorders. 
Onania, which remained a 
best-seller for decades to fol- 
low, was little more than an 
advertisement for a “pro- 
lifick powder” that its inven- 
tor claimed could curb mas- 
turbation and prevent the 
stunted growth, priapism, 
gonorrhea, cachexia, blin 
ness and insanity it brought 
on. Physicians began at- 
tributing puzzling medical 
cases to onanism, and for the next two 
centuries, patients suffered through 
such treatments as forced diets, cold 
showers, corsets, electrical alarms, ure- 
thral and clitoral cauterizations, clit- 
orectomies and labial sewing. 

Despite efforts to put the epidemic 
down, masturbators multiplied. Be- 
cause the desire to pleasure yourself 
is fueled by imagination, moralists 
turned their crusades to the regulation 
of the erotic. “Because of the degree to 
which reading and writing draw on 
fantasy, both activities were considered 
dangerous by anti-onanist authors, es- 
pecially when engaged in to excess or 


by those whose imaginations were 
deemed weak and susceptible (namely, 
women and children),” write Bennett 
and Rosario. “In an ironic twist of lan- 
guage, playing with oneself came to be 
conceptualized not as the healthy en- 
gagement of an autonomous and cre- 
ative imagination but as antisocial ‘self- 
abuse’ or the ‘sin’ of self-pollution.” 

That legacy is still with us and en- 
ables the religious right to create the 
guilt and shame necessary for “re- 
demption.” In Sex Is Not a Natural Act 
and Other Essays, Leonore Tiefer points 
out that many attacks on porn arise 
from the knowledge that it promotes 
masturbation. “Those who go on ti- 
rades and legislate against pornogra- 
phy never talk about masturbation. 
"They say that pornography harms pco- 
ple's minds and causes them to do bad 
things. They never acknowledge that 
most people use pornography to en- 
hance their masturbation fantasies. A 
lot of the fuel for the anti- 
pornography crusades comes 
from anxiety and awkward- 
ness about admitting that 
people masturbate.” 

First Person is notable be- 
cause it goes beyond admi 
ting people masturbate—it 
celebrates the fact. Many of 
its stories are heroic (I am 
masturbator!), funny (what 
was Nixon up to during 
those missing 18 minutes?) 
and, of course, self-ab- 
sorbed. Together they seem 
outrageous only because so 
few people have written 
honestly about the topic. 
One writer shares entries 
from her journal, noting 
that “the empty quiet space 
after masturbating often 
beckons me to fill it with 


first experiences with masturbation, 
and how his or her parents reacted up- 
оп discovering their child diddling in- 
stead of doodling. Early acts of self- 
pleasure help shape our sexual lives. 
That's why it's refreshing to read sto- 
ries such as that of a son whose mother 
caught him borrowing her vibrator 
and promptly scolded him—then sent 
him to the store to get his own. Talk 
about progressive parenting. 

But not all the contributors leap into 
liberated sex—the guilt most people 
still feel about masturbation isn’t easy 
to shed. Faced with that, some writers 
turn the censorious to the sensuous (we 
do what we can for our sexual sur- 
vival). In his essay “Stigmata,” Thomas 
Roche offers this: 

“When I masturbate nowadays, I 
close the curtains, check to make sure 
no one’s in the hall outside, double- 
Jock the front door, turn the music on 
loud, put the TV on mute, get ready to 


In October 1995 students at Miami University in Oxford, Ohio 
won official recognition for a Masturbation Society. After writ- 
ing a constitution and bylaws, they invited classmates interest- 
ed in their weekly discussions to "come by yourself.” 


We of the Miami University Masturbation Society feel that the 
existence of this group is necessary for the following reasons: 
{1) Masturbation is a natural and wonderful thing, but modern 
society and religion have shunned it and even forbidden it. 

(2) The social taboos connected with masturbation are also re- 
lated to many other problems in society, including sexism and 
homophobia. 
(3) Sexual activity, including masturbation, is rarely discussed. 
or talked about in а healthy manner. 
(4) One is not fully able to love and/or appreciate another hu- 
man being until he/she is comfortable with exploring his/her 


words.” She observes, “If I own body. 

masturbate when I'm de- (5) It feels good. 

pressed, it’s like making love 

to someone and realizing 

that I no longer love him.” And she of- hide the magazines and feel a curious 


fers one of her favorite masturbation 
fantasies: "I am in a huge Greek am- 
phitheater. The audience of thousands 
includes everyone I have ever met in 
my life. 1 am at the center of the stage, 
lying naked on an elaborately decorat- 
ed table. It is laid with the finest floral- 
embroidered white linen. Gorgeous, 
fresh-cut pale pink roses are strewn 
over the sunken stage. A man who 
looks like a symphony conductor, 
dressed in a tuxedo, is performing cun- 
nilingus on me while the audience, 
mesmerized, waits for me to come.” 
Many of the essays recall the writer's 


tingling terror in the pit of my stom- 
ach. I do all these things because that 
feeling of absolute privacy, of the an- 
onymity of the closet, of doing some- 
thing truly evil and nasty that nobody 
had better find out about, is a delicious 
something that is rather hard to dupli- 
cate in my adult life, where I'm con- 
fronted on a daily basis with a world 
full of civil rights violations, domestic 
violence, homelessness, nuclear weap- 
ons and industrial pollution. Evil and 
nasty are relative terms, hard to dupli- 
cate in the postadolescent mind.” 
Reading these stories, one has to sus- 


pend judgment, which may be what 
masturbation is all about. Different 
strokes for different folks. To some, it’s 
an escape; to others, a journey. In "Two 
Palms Oasis,” Will Keen describes an 
unexpected encounter in the desert: 

“I turned to press my body against 
this earthen creature. I let the warmth 
penetrate me from behind, as the sun 
caressed me from the front. I closed 
my eyes fora moment, and the rock be- 
gan to shift, lifting from the ground, 
shaking off the sand, pressing into me. 
I relaxed into the fantasy . . . awaken- 
ing a massive goddess from her slum- 
ber. I took a handful of sand and 
rubbed it on my chest. I played with 
the idea of making love to the clefts in 
the beautiful sun-glazed rumps bend- 
ing down before me. As my pelvis 
thrust forward, I closed my eyes again 
and saw the native rocks dancing in my 
head, swaying their rear ends at me, 
teasing me. I stroked faster, tingling, 
alive to the rare sensation of 
having the sun warming my 
erection. Soon I was shaking 
the sides of the canyon, 
making love to the land. I 
came hard, my white water 
falling in spurts to the 
desert floor as I let out a 
loud howl that bounced off 
the canyon walls. I laughed 
at the unexpected echo re- 
minding me that I was mak- 
ing love to myself. When I 
opened my eyes, my stone 
lovers held their positions, 
immutable.” 

Other contributors de- 
scribe their own all-natural 
encounters. A Californian 
explains how she occasion- 
ally makes herself come 
without a vibrator so she'll 
be prepared if her home los- 
cs power during a natural 
disaster. Another writer de- 
tails an crotic moment he 
shared with a breadfruit: 
“Aware of the danger of discovery, in a 
crazed exhibitionist state, and almost 
hoping for an audience, I proceeded 
to masturbate furiously. Ah, the plea- 
sure as I rubbed breadfruit juice onto 
the shaft of my cock. The breadfruit 
seemed to be breathing and calling to 
me. I picked up the dripping carcass 
with both hands and impaled it on my 
penis. Tearing and grinding, I made 
love to this ripe breadfruit for several 
delicious moments. I came, , thought 1 
had come, and came again.” 

Hungry? The best thing about mas- 
turbation is that once you discover it, 
you realize you'll never be alone. 


45 


46 


NORML BEHAVIOR 
R. Keith Stroup's article 
(“The Smoke-Filled Room,” 
The Playboy Forum, October) 
means a lot to some of us so- 
called free Americans. My hus- 
band lost his job because of the 
harsh perceptions surrounding 
marijuana use, despite the fact 
that using it did not interfere 
with his performance. Losing 
his job at his age (50) and after 
16 years of service, not the mar- 
ijuana, is what has ruined our 
lives. What we choose to engage 
in for recreation in the privacy 
of our home shouldn't concern 
anyone. Congress should stick 
to more pressing issues. 
Irene Briley 
La Vergne, Tennessee 


Prior to the passage of the 
Harrison Act in 1914, drugs 
were legal. For more than 80 
years, we have been fighting an 
unwinnable drug war. We can- 
not control the morality of the 
nation through criminal sanc- 
tions—that's one of the reasons 
the war on drugs has been a 
failure from the start. Let us 
end this "war" honorably: Re- 
lease all nonviolent prisoners 
now so that they may be reunit- 
ed with their families. 

David Cole 
Daytona Beach, Florida 


HEMP DOWN UNDER 
A student-based network 
called Honest Australians Sup- 
porting Hemp (hashGfire 
storm.scu.edu.au) aims to high- 
light the many economic, so- 
cial, ecological and medicinal 


FOR THE RECORD 


BRA 


“Today's graduating seniors are the first gen- 
eration of adolescents exposed to the most mas- 
sive, consistent and expensive federal antidrug 
campaign ever launched. They grew up listen- 
ing to DARE officers in the classroom and to 
public service announcements from the Partner- 
ship for a Drug Free America at home. Yet statis- 
tics indicate that they are using drugs at far 
higher rates than were their predecessors just 
four and five years ago. In addition, more drug 
offenders are being arrested and incarcerated 
for longer periods of time than ever before. 
Clearly, this problem requires more than the 
standard Washington rhetoric.” 
—PAUL ARMENTANO, PUBLICATIONS DIRECTOR FOR 

NORML, AT A SENATE JUDICIARY COMMITTEE 

HEARING CONVENED TO EXAMINE THE ISSUE OF 


DRUG USE AMONG ADOLESCENTS 


E R 


would like to take away our 
freedom. 


Eric Smith 
Raleigh, North Carolina 


The CDA is just the latest 
attempt by the government 
to repress and censor freedom. 
What is truly frightening is that 
both major political parties do 
this. The Republicans use fami- 
ly values and Bible-thumping 
to try to censor us. The Demo- 
crats are no better—they use 
political correctness to impose 
their beliefs on us. The last 
time I checked, the First 
Amendment guarantees the 
freedom of speech, not free- 
dom from offensive material. 
Here is a simple solution: If 
you don't like what you see or 
hear on TV, radio or the Inter- 
net, just pull the plug. 

Bryan Hampton 
Richmond, Virginia 


Congratulations to Declan 
McCullagh on his informative 
and entertaining article—cute 
ducks and all. In June, the low- 
er court's decision on the CDA. 
confirmed the ACLU’s view 
that this most democratic com- 
munications medium, in the 
opinion of Judge Stewart 
Dalzell, “deserves the highest 
protection from government 
intrusion.” 

Notwithstanding this deci- 
sion, however, many state legis- 
latures have followed Congress’ 
lead in drafting heavy-handed, 
ill-conceived and, in many cas- 
es, unconstitutional laws regu- 
lating cyberspace. As of this 


problems resulting from prohi- 
bition. As Gretchen Highfield, environ- 
ment officer from the National Union 
of Students, said, "If the federal gov- 
ernment can regulate the use and pos- 
session of semiautomatic rifles, surely it 
can regulate the use and possession of 
а simple plant that has been used for at 
least 10,000 years.” 
Honest Australians 
Supporting Hemp 
East Lismore, Australia 


FREEDOM ON TRIAL 
I recommend Declan McCullagh's 
article ("Freedom on Trial,” The Playboy 


Forum, October) to anyone who wants 
to know what a fiasco the Communica- 
tions Decency Act is. The ignorance on 
the side of those who supported the 
CDA is astounding. But McCullagh's 
statement at the end of the article, 
“outraged right-wing groups will de- 
mand action,” erroneously implies that 
only religious conservatives and the 
like are advocates for the CDA. Right- 
wingers such as Newt Gingrich were 
against the CDA while Senator Jim Ex- 
on (D.-Neb.) and the Clinton adminis- 
tration strongly supported it. McCul- 
lagh should go after all of those who 


writing, at least 12 states have 
enacted cybercensorship laws and an- 
other five states contemplate such reg- 
ulations. Like the federal CDA, the 
state laws fail to take into account the 
global nature of the Internet. 

In September of last year, the ACLU 
filed the first legal challenge to a state 
Internet law in Georgia on behalf of 14 
plaintiffs, including the ACLU of Geor- 
gia, Electronic Frontiers Georgia and 
the Electronic Frontier Foundation. As 
we continue to battle the unconstitu- 
tional Internet censorship legislation 
in both state and federal courts, we 
applaud rLAvBov for keeping readers 


informed of news from the front lines. 
Ann Beeson 
American Civil Liberties Union 
New York, New York 


TO V ORNOTTO V 

Thought you would appreciate an 
update on the V chip debate. I had a 
chance to attend a session hosted by 
the Creative Coalition during the Dem- 
ocratic Convention. The panel tackled 
the question, “Is the responsibility of 
the entertainment industry not to of- 
fend its audience?” The responses 
were memorable: 

“Some people believe that [the en- 
tertainment industry] should be 
dumbed down. I don't. But I do be- 
lieve that we should give parents the 
tools they need to block out program- 
ming they believe is inappropriate for 
their children. At the same time, we 
should offer sophisticated adult fare 
that parents can watch when they want. 
This isn't Big Brother. This is Big Fa- 
ther and Big Mother sitting in their liv- 
ing room programming their TV for 
the day. What's wrong with that?” 

—Congressman Edward Markey 
(D.-Mass.), author of the original 
V chip legislation, making a case 
for the television technology 

*I exercise the most potent V chip 
there is on my set—the orr button.” 

— Producer Steven Bochco on his 
opinion of the programming 
blocker 

“Suggesting that if you don't like 
popular culture, you should just tune it 
out is like saying if you don't like smog, 
stop breathing. It can't be done.” 

—New York Post movie critic and V 
chip advocate Michael Medved 
commenting on Bochco’s V chip 
alternative 

“There is an audience for violence, 
an audience composed of drooling, 
subliterate adolescent males—and we 
know who we are. I don’t know the au- 
dience for harsh language. I don't 
know anyone who comes out of a 
movie theater saying, "You know, I feel 
ripped off because I didn't get to hear 
Michelle Pfeiffer say the F word.'" 

—Medved on the unnecessary use of 
profanity in films and television. 

Betty Thompson 
Chicago, Illinois 


WIEDER'S WORLD 
Kudos to “Same-Sex Marriage” (The 
Playboy Forum, October). As a gay man, 


I agree with Robert S. Wieder's hu- 
morous outlook. He has written things 
that we've been saying for years—e.g., 
with the legalization of gay marriages, 
there would be fewer children to feed 
and house and worry about. 

I've known quite a few men who 
have married and had children only 
because that's what society says we are 
supposed to do. Then they spend the 
rest of their lives unhappy. cruising gay 
bars and bookstores for a quick piece 
of ass. 

I believe that gay men and lesbians 
should be entitled to the same rights as 
heterosexuals in this country. After 
all, we're taxpayers, right? Thanks to 
Wieder for giving insight to hetero 
America. 

Randy Smith 
Cambridge, Ohio 


Wieder’s article has some frighten- 
ing implications for the future because 
so much of what he writes is true. The 
problem is, he doesn’t tackle the real is- 
sue—that homosexuality is not accept- 
able as a part of the American way of 
life. Could anyone picture John Wayne 
or Gary Cooper sucking a cock? In- 


junctions against the practice of homo- 
sexuality are as valid now as they were 
in biblical times. According to the prin- 
ciples of the Judeo-Christian ethic, the 
sanctity of marriage should be reserved 
for the protection of the family. 

When the rights of gays come into 
conflict with the sanctity of the home 
and family, tradition must be given first 
precedence, Same-sex marriage must 
be outlawed. 

Nancy Roberts 
Providence, Rhode Island 

Same-sex marriage is not about threaten- 
ing the sanctity (a religious reference) of 
matrimony so much as it is about the right to 
legal recourse in matters of health and prop- 
erty. The beliefs you embrace are the same 
ones that for generations have made gays the 
target of violence and discrimination. Some 
traditions deserve to be put asunder. 


We would like to hear your point of view. 
Send questions, opinions and quirky stuff 
to: The Playboy Forum Reader Response, 
PLAYBOY, 680 North Lake Shore Drive, 
Chicago, Hlinois 60611. Please include a 
daytime phone number. Fax number: 212- 
951-2939. E-mail: forum@playboy. 
com (please include your city and state). 


FROGGY STYLE 


Bad Frog Beer, one of the fastest-grow- 
ing microbrewed beers in the country, 
recently lost bids for statewide distribu- 
tion in New York, Pennsylvania, New 
Jersey and Ohio on the grounds that its 
product labels are obscene. The labels, 
which depict a frog giving the finger, 
have been called “insulting and inap- 
propriate” by John Jones, chairman 
of the Pennsylvania Liquor Control 
Board. Bad Frog Brewery president 
Jim Wauldron responded philosophi- 
cally: “Many people might 
consider Mr. Jones noble 
or self-righteous. Not us. 
We just feel he could use 
some help overcoming 
his fascination with the 
sexuality of a frog. We 

suggest counseling.” 


47 


48 


NE VW 


ы ا‎ JR 


О "¿NE 


what's happening in the sexual and social arenas 


PAINT JOB 


VIENNA—À body painter claims to have 
invented a liquid latex condom that is 
painted on, then allowed to dry before in- 
tercourse. Each $8 bottle creates three con- 


doms in black, gray or blue, with lemon or 
rum scent. After some testers complained 
the condoms made foreplay as exciting as 
watching paint dry, the inventor recom- 
mended using a hair drier to speed up the 
seven-minute process. Cute, right? The kid 
will be too if you miss a spot. 


CHEMICAL CUTOFF 


SACRAMENTO—The legislature ap- 
proved a law that would make California 
the first state to mandate chemical castra- 
tion of parolees convicted more than once 
of child molestation. The released prison- 
er would receive shots of Depo-Provera, 
which reduces sexual impulses, until a 
panel of experts deemed him “rehabilitat- 
ed” or until his parole ended. Critics argue 
that a molester must be motivated to 
change (even a castrated man can molest a 
child) and that the drug can cause harm- 
ful side effects such as high blood pressure 
and circulatory problems. 


ADULTERY KILLS 


WASHINGTON, D.G—A study of 354 
Spanish couples by a team including re- 
searchers from Johns Hopkins School of 
Public Health found that women whose 
lovers have sex with multiple mistresses or 


prostitutes are more likely to develop cervi- 
cal cancer. The reason: The more exposure 
a woman has to human papilloma virus, 
the more likely she will develop infections 
that can lead to cervical cancer. The study, 
reported in the “Journal of the National 
Cancer Institute,” suggests that by infect- 
ing their partners with HPV through sex 
outside the relationship, men bring cancer 
into the home. But the researchers point 
out that women who fail to practice safe 
sex with multiple partners and who don't 
have regular medical exams also put them- 
selves at risk. 


LATENT EXCUSES 


SYDNEY—Officials in New South Wales 
announced a legal review of the "homosex- 
ual panic defense” after its use in 12 mur- 
der trials over the past three years. The de- 
fense is based on a theory that some 
straight men can be “provoked” to kill if 
they receive or perceive sexual advances 
from other men. In the U.S., a study by the 
‘New York City Gay and Lesbian Antivio- 
lence Project found that defendants had 
claimed homosexual panic in 14 percent of 
murder cases in which the victim was gay 
or believed to be gay. Whatever happened 
to “No, thank you”? 


CRACK IN THE LAW 


GYPSUM, COLORADO—Concerned that a 
nudie bar in nearby Aspen might migrate 
to its bedroom community, the town council 
banned gentlemen’s clubs from operating 
near residences, schools or churches. The 
ordinance's definition of nudity includes 
exposure of the “cleft of the buttocks,” 
prompting the mayor to comment before the 
vote, “A lot of men will have to pull up 
their pants around here.” 


MAGIC LESSONS 


SPRINGFIELD, MISSOURI—A federal ju- 
ry ruled thai a school district violated a 
second-grade teacher's religious freedom 
when she was fired after handing out 
“magic rocks” to her students. The teacher 
sent 20 students home with a smooth glass 
rock and a note that read, in part, “To 
make your rock work, close your eyes, rub it 
and say to yourself three times, Тат a spe- 
cial and terrific person, with talents of my 
опт! After you have put your rock away, 
you will know that the magic has worked.” 
A preacher and some parents complained, 


and the school board declined to renew the 
teacher's contract. A lawyer for the district 
told reporters that the rocks were irrele- 
vant and that the woman had been fired 
only after three years of poor performance 


reviews. 


ISTHE PRINCIPLE 


DENVER—A federal court benched a 
group of pro baseball players who attempt- 
ed to stop distribution of a series of parody 
baseball cards. Cardtoons mock wealthy 
players such as Jack “Greenback” McDow- 
ell, Bobby "Bonus" Bonilla and Barry 
“Treasury” Bonds, who is shown tipping a 
batboy for bringing him a gold slugger. 
The players claimed the cards violated 
their publicity and licensing rights—and 
they demanded a share of the profits. 


WILD JUNGLE SEX 


NEW YORK—The family of Edgar Rice 
Burroughs—author of “Tarzan of the 
Apes" filed suit against the makers of a 
pornographic movie called “Jungle Heat” 
because it depicts the trademarked Tarzan 
and Jane characters engaged in “numer- 
ous scenes of sexual intercourse, fellatio, 
sodomy and group sex." While the film's 
male lead is rarely referred to as Tarzan, 
he uses Burroughs’ other name for his 


character, Ape Man. The actor also (some- 
times) wears an extra-large loincloth, emits 
the famous Tarzan yell, swings from vines, 
rescues Jane and has an animal friend 
named Cheeta. 


Vasectomy. 
Do it yourself? 


Lets face it. There are just some things 
you dont want to try on your own. 
Vasectomy is probably one of them. 


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PLAYBOY INTERVIEW: WHOOPI GOLDBERG 


a candid conversation with the outspoken actress and oscar host about taking on the hollywood 
establishment and jesse jackson, and why you had better not call her an african american 


It wasn't Marilyn Monroe but Whoopi 
Goldberg, hair tumbling over her forehead, 
standing on the Radio City Music Hall stage 
facing the president of the U.S, at his 50th 
birthday party and threatening to sing 
“Happy Birthday, Mr. President.” “I was 
going to wear а blonde wig,” she joked, 
"but I sce that Jack Kemp already has the 
wig.” The crowd—including Bill Clinton— 
roared. 

Clinton has long been one of Goldberg's 
biggest and most public fans, especially of 
her movie “Sister Act.” (“I wanted to be in 
that choir so bad І could spit,” he said.) Be- 
sides hanging out with the Clintons and 
roasting Republicans on his behalf (a typical 
preelection one-liner: “Will someone please 
introduce Lorena Bobbitt to Bob Dole?”), 
Goldberg has, for the better part of two 
decades, been working nonstop. During the 
past year alone, she released three movies 
and served a second tour of duty as em- 
cee of the Academy Awards ceremony. Her 
Oscar night performance was vintage Gold- 
berg—provoking equal parts applause and 
outrage. 

Wearing a black gown that won her top 
honors in one poll as worst-dressed woman, 
Goldberg sei the tone at the best Academy 
Awards ceremony in years wilh a pointed 
and hilarious monolog. She immediately 
took aim at some sacred targets. "I want to 


"I'm not an African American. Pm pure- 
bred, New York-raised. Calling me an Af- 
rican American divides us further. I am as 
American as baseball. 1 dont have to excuse 
the faci that I am black-skinned.” 


say something to all the people who sent me 
ribbons to wear,” she said. “You don’t ask a 
black woman to buy an expensive dre 
then cover it with ribbons." She then fi 
a list of ribbons thai she chose not to wear: "I 
gota red ribbon for AIDS awareness. Done. I 
got a purple ribbon for breast cancer. Done 

1 got a yellow ribbon for the troops in Bosnia. 

Done. I gota green ribbon to free the Chinese 
dissidents. Done, I got а milky white ribbon 
for mad-cow disease. Done. Done. Done 
again.” 

She also ribbed actor Charlie Sheen, who 
gained attention for being a frequent 
(850,000) customer of Hollywood madam 
Heidi Fleiss’. Goldberg noted that three ac- 
Iresses who were nominated for Oscars— 
Sharon Stone, Mira Sorvino and Elisabeth 
Shue—portrayed hookers in the year's mov- 
ies, and asked, “How many times did Char- 
lie Sheen get to vote, anyway?” 

But the most contentiaus part of the show 
came when she took on the Reverend Jesse 
Jackson, who had called for a protest against 
the Academy Awards ceremony, complaining 
that there was only one black nominee. “I 
had something I wanted to say to Jesse right 
here, but he’s not watching, so why bother?” 
she said. In fact, she treated him and his 
protest with such thinly veiled disdain that a 
political firestorm ensued. She was sharply 
crilicized by minority organizations, as well 


“Maybe I got married a few 100 many times. 
It’s because I love a good party, but I have 
recently realized that 1 can actually just 
throw a party and not get married. I think 
Гое learned that.” 


as by some producers and directors, who said 
that her vemarks marginalized and belittled 


Jackson and the issue he raised: racism in 


the motion picture indusiry. But Goldberg 
also had her supporters, who thought the 
protest was inappropriate at an awards cer- 
emony that was hosted by Goldberg, pro- 
duced by Quincy Jones and featured other 
prominent African Americans, including 
Laurence Fishburne and Sidney Poitier: 

As always, the attacks rolled off her back. 
A veteran of controversy, Goldberg has fre- 
quented the tabloids since her painful, tu- 
muliuous and well-documented affair with 
Ted Danson. The “tabloid twins,” as Gold- 
berg dubbed them, suffered a barrage of bad 
publicity when Danson left his wife and chil- 
dren for Goldberg. Things began to disinte- 
grate for the couple afler Danson made his 
infamous appearance at a Friars Club roast 
of Goldberg in 1993. Reciting material he 
and Goldberg wrote together, Danson, in 
blackface, told jokes that many denounced as 
racist. Several guests, including talk-show 
host Montel Williams, walked out. Others, 
such as New York mayor David Dinkins. 


Jackson and Dionne Warwick, attacked 


Goldberg and Danson in the press. The cou- 
ple suffered a bitter and highly publicized 
split soon afier. 

Goldberg, who is 41, then wed for the 
third time—there were two brief marriages 


PHOTOGRAPHY BY DAVID ROSE 


"People seem to forget that the fact that I'm 
here is a huge statement. In a previous gen- 
eration. a black actor might have had to fit a 
mold. But this is me. These are my lips, my 
nose, my hair, my butt.” 


51 


PLAYBOY 


52 


before, one in 1973 and the other in 1986— 
to union organizer Lyle Trachtenberg in 
1994. After announcing their engagement, 
the couple married at her Los Angeles home, 
where the words FUCK OFF were painted on 
the roof to frustrate airborne media. The 
marriage ended a year later, and Goldberg is 
now in a relationship with Frank Langella, 
whom she met while filming the basketball 
movie “Eddie,” one of this past summer’s 
quiet succes: she has said, "It's been a 
hell of a time. 

Goldberg was born Caryn Johnson in 
1955. Raised by her mother, a nurse and 
Head Start teacher, Goldberg grew up “poor 
but never hungry” in the Chelsea neighbor- 
hood of New York City. At the age of eight, 
she acted in children’s theater and took the 
bus to museums, the ballet and plays. Despite 
her mother’s best efforts, Goldberg could not 
escape the influences of her neighborhood. 
She admits she did “every drug” and 
dropped out of high school (“1 couldn't pull 
it off"). At 18, she married her drug coun- 
selor and got pregnant soon after—her 
daughter Alexandrea, age 22, has her own 
daughter, and Goldberg ts the proverbial dot- 
ing grandmother. 

Goldberg made her living at a number of 
jobs—including doing makeup and fixing 
hair in a funeral parlor—and survived on 
welfare after heading to San Diego, without 
her first husband, in 1974. She then moved 
to Berkeley and joined the Blake Street 
Hawkeyes Theater. It was there that she 
changed her name. (Her first name derived 
‘from whoopee-cushion jokes and her last was 
suggested by her mother to honor Jewish an- 
cestors. The name led to a classic Milton 
Berle line: “4 black woman with a Jewish 
name. She doesn't do windows because she's 
got a headache.”) 

In the early Fighties, Goldberg developed 
“The Spook Show,” a one-woman tour de 
force with such unforgettable characters as a 
junkie with a heart of gold and a surfer 
chick who, in Valley Girlese, tells about her 
coat-hanger abortion. There were other the- 
ater pieces, including a brilliant tribute to 
one of her heroes, Moms Mabley. 

Goldberg was discovered performing in 
New York by director Mike Nichols, who 
brought “The Spook Show” to Broadway in 
1984. It led to a Grammy-winning comedy 
album and a private performance for Steven 
Spielberg and some of his friends, including 
Michael Jackson. That, in turn, led to Gold- 
berg's first film role as Celie, the abused but 
ultimately triumphant main charac 
Spielberg's version of Alice Walker's “TI 
Color Purple.” The performance earned 
Goldberg her first Golden Globe and an 
Academy Award nomination for best actress. 

There have been more than 30 movies 
since. They have varied widely, from forget- 
table comedies to poignant dramas, includ- 
ing ‘Jumpin’ Jack Flash,” “Burglar,” “Fatal 
Beauty,” “Clara's Heart," 

Hone, 
in America," * 

light & Valentino, 
"Sarafina!," “Boys on the Side,” “Corrina, 


Corrina," "Bogus" and "Eddie," as well as 
her role as the voice of the head hyena in 
“The Lion King." There have been block- 
busters—“Ghost,” for instance, for which 
she won a Best Supporting Actress Oscar in 
1991, and “Sister Act,” which led to a 
record-setting salary of $8 million for the se- 
quel (a box-office disappointment). She also 
had a recurring role as Guinan, the psychic 
bartender, on the TV series “Star Trek: The 
Next Generation” and in the 1994 movie 
“Star Trek: Generations” and hosted her 
own syndicated TV talk show, “The Whoopi 
Goldberg Show.” In her most recent movie, 
“Ghosts of Mississippi,” she plays Myrlie 
Evers, wife of slain civil rights leader 
Medgar Evers, in a drama directed by Rob 
Reiner. 

Goldberg, who divides her time among a 
New England farm, a Manhattan apart- 
ment and a Hollywood home, was between 
films when Contributing Editor David Sheff 
sat doun with ker to begin the interview, 
Here's Sheff's report: 

"Because her Manhattan apartment was 
being renovated, 1 met Goldberg at a hotel on 
the Upper East Side where Paul Davis, the 
artist and photographer, was taking glam- 


That was my macho 
period. I had the best 
time: motorcycles and 

leather jackets and blue 


contact lenses! 


our shots of her for a fund-raising perfor- 
mance. Goldberg batted her eyelashes at him 
and made self-effacing jokes about how she 
might have broken his camera. Although no 
one would describe her as a classic beauty, 
she nonetheless looked gorgeous, with her 
large brown eyes, crown of hair and smile 
that could melt ice. 

“Goldberg was in a great mood after 
hanging out the night before with her pal 
Bill Clinton at his 50th birthday celebration. 
Afier the photo session, when we sat down in 
a private room at the hotel restaurant (where 
she indulged herself with bacon and Marl- 
boros), she mused aloud about the unlikely 
company she now keeps. "I'm exactly the kind 
of person the Secret Service is paid to keep 
away from most presidents,” she said. ‘I 
mean, this is the president we're talking 
about. Not the president of the PTA, either.” 


PLAYBOY: Does Clinton have a good sense 
of humor? 

GOLDBERG: He has a great sense of hu- 
mor—he's hysterical. I'm convinced he 
wants to be a comedian. 

PLAYBOY: Could he make it on the circuit? 
GOLDBERG: I'd pay money to see him. 
And the First Lady—she is very funny, 


too. We laugh a lot when we're together. 
I genuinely like them. I like them be- 
cause they are real. 1 don’t care about 
anybody's skeletons, you know, because 
I'm so busy holding back my own. But 
from my limited view, they are peo- 
ple who believe there is a better way. I 
trust them. 

PLAYBOY: How does it feel to be friends 
with the president? 

GOLDBERG: Shit, 1 get to talk to the presi- 
dent of the United States and have opin- 
ions that people are actually interested 
in. It is pretty groovy, 

PLAYBOY: Groovy? 

GOLDBERG: Yeah, I'm a hippie. Can't help 
it 

PLAYBOY: Meaning what? 

GOLDBERG: Oh, all that good hippie stuff. 
1 mean that I believe one person can 
make a difference, that we are responsi- 
ble for other people. You know, peace 
and love. It's out of fashion, but it's real- 
ly a great way to live. I believe in peace 
and brotherhood and all that stuff. 
PLAYBOY: Are you trying to communicate 
these values in the movies you choose? 
GOLDBERG: When 1 can, though I do all 
kinds of movies. 

PLAYBOY: In Ghosts of Mississippi, you play 
the widow of NAACP leader Medgar 
Evers. Was that a labor of love? 
GOLDBERG: Yeah, definitely. It's a true 
story that many people don’t know 
about. Evers was killed in 1963 by a man 
named Byron de la Beckwith, who was 
tried twice by white juries and got off 
both times. I get to play Evers’ widow, 
Myrlie. She’s an incredible woman. She 
kept the flame of her husband alive for 
30 years to make sure that the guy who 
murdered him—who shot him in the 
back—went to jail. 

PLAYBOY: Do you find it tough to play a 
living person? 

GOLDBERG: Sure is. Myrlie was as much 
ofa stretch for me as anything I've done. 
I kind of roll along down the street, car- 
rying four bags at one time, a mess, and 
Myrlie Evers glides into a room. She isa 
presence. She lives in Oregon now, and I 
really wanted her to like the movie. She 
is happy with it, which was like, whew. 
You can't take a whole lot of liberties with 
people who can knock on your door and 
tell you how badly you screwed up the 
whole thing. Her response and the re- 
sponse of their children meant more 
than that of any others. Evers was mur- 
dered in front of those kids. He was shot 
and crawled to the front door and died 
in his wife's arms with the children 
standing there crying, “Daddy, get up. 
Daddy, please get up.” 

PLAYBOY: Some people would say that 
Rob Reiner, who directed the movie, was 
not the one to tell this story, that stories 
about black people should be told by 
black people. Do you disagree? 
GOLDBERG: I do. One reason black film- 
makers tend to bring black stories to 
the forefront is that those stories aren't. 


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PLAYBOY 


often told. But filmmakers should be 
able to tell whatever story they are in- 
spired to tell. 

PLAYBOY: You've been through this be- 
fore. Steven Spielberg was criticized for 
making The Color Purple. 

GOLDBERG: Yeah, and that’s just as crazy. 
‘The fact is that Steven Spielberg [she gets 
a huge smile|—I think he's the cat's paja- 
mas. He is the best person and he made 
a beautiful movie. It is not about being 
black or white "s about being a good 
storyteller. He is. So is Rob Reiner. Rci- 
ner is a king in my book. He's a joy to 
work with. I'm very lucky because now 
Fm working with more directors who 
know what they're doing. 

PLAYBOY: As opposed to? 

GOLDBERG: Let's just say that some of the 
directors I have worked with haven't 
known much of anything. 

PLAYBOY: Can't you pick and choose the 
directors you work with? 

GOLDBERG: Yeah, right. [Laughs] Unfor- 
tunately, I'm not in that position. 
PLAYBOY: Doesn't clout come when you're 
a big box-office draw? 

GOLDBERG: 1 do get more money, but the 
attitude becomes, "We're paying you all 
this money, so shut up and do the work.” 
Which is why it has been said that I'm 
difficult. The best directors will tell you 
that I'm a pussycat. [Smiles] 

PLAYBOY: Then what happens? 
GOLDBERG: I just have ideas about the 
way things should work. I've been doing 
this awhile now, and 1 occasionally do 
have a good idea. The fact is, I'm a col- 
laborator. I'm from the theater. The the- 
ater is based on collaboration. So I’ve 
learned to collaborate a lot more quietly. 
PLAYBOY: Do movies suffer when direc- 
tors don't listen? 

GOLDBERG: Sister Act 2 is an example. 1 
knew that you couldn't make that movie 
unless you had the nuns from the ori 
nal movie in it. They were the driving 
force; people fell in love with them. 1 
fought and fought and fought and 
fought to have them in the story, which 
contributed to my bad reputation. 
PLAYBOY: Yet for that movie, you set a 
record for a female actor in Hollywood 
at that time—making $8 million. 
GOLDBERG: Maybe if | were more consis- 
tent, making lots of movies that made 
$100 million, directors would listen. But 
my movies tend to be great movies that 
are critically acclaimed and make no 
money, or movies that aren't so critically 
acclaimed and make a ton of money, or 
those that aren't so critically acclaimed 
and don't make any money. Arnold's 
movies make a zillion dollars no matter 
what he does, so he can do what he 
wants. Sly's movies tend to make a zillion 
dollars and he can do what he wants. 
Other people get paid a lot of mon- 
ey sometimes, and then get a lot more 
leeway than I get. But you can't spend 
time saying, “She has it and 1 don't.” 


54 You just can't. 


PLAYBOY: Do you always go for creative 
control? 

GOLDBERG: 1 always ask. The bottom line 
is that directors find I really do know a 
lot in terms of what needs to happen. I 
know how to fill the holes. I have turned 
a lot of shit into sterling silver. 

PLAYBOY: So you agree with a critic from 
Time magazine who wrote, "She has the 
ability to turn a routine flick into a pret- 
ty good movie entirely on her own." 
GOLDBERG: Ycah. And imagine what I 
can do with a really good flick. But it 
goes back to how people visualize the 
world. They may think of me when they 
need a mai 

PLAYBOY: Didn't you once say that you 
would never play a maid? 

GOLDBERG: No. ! never said 1 wouldn't 
play a maid. I said that I wouldn't just 
play maids. But in the words of Hattie 
McDaniel, “Better to play one than to 
be one.” She used to get a lot of shit for 
the roles she was playing, too, but peo- 
ple don't realize that she wasn't turning 
down Scarlett O'Hara. Nobody said, 
“Hey, will you do Stella?” to which she 
said, “No, I've got to go play this maid!” 
In my case, I've never played a maid 
who wasn't a lead in the movie. And the 
story of these women, who clean other 
people's houses and take care of their 
children, is a worthy one to tell. Whether 
it’s Corrina, Corrina or others, though, 
there are people who say, “Oh, she’s 
playing a maid again.” I am happy to 
play a maid if the movie is good. In gen- 
eral, good movies don’t always come to 
me—in fact, 1 go out and find work. I 
call people. I say, “I hear you're doing 
this movie and I want to be in it.” 
PLAYBOY: Who have you called recently? 
GOLDBERG: Гуе been calling Clint East- 
wood. He's getting ready to do a movie 
of a book that I thought was extraor- 
dinary, Midnight in the Garden of Good 
and Evil. 1 would love to play the drag 
queen, Lady Chablis. He’s probably go- 
ing to end up using the real Lady 
Chablis, but I called. I said, “1 can play a 
man playing a woman, and I would love 
to do this, I can pull it off." Whatever he 
decides, 1 will continue to actively look 
for good roles. 1 want to make a movie 
about a really bad person. One of my fa- 
vorite performances was Anthony Hop- 
kins’ in The Silence of the Lambs, At first 
you think you might want to get to know 
this guy, and then he says something that 
makes you back up and realize he will 
bite your face if you get close enough. 
Would I be somebody's first choice for а 
character like that? No. 1 wanted to do 
Cutthroat Island because I think I would 
be a great pirate—1 could get real dirty 
and fight with a sword and still be sort of 
charming, I thii But I'm not stat- 
uesque and beautiful. 

PLAYBOY: You mean, like the star of that 
movie, Geena Davis? 

GOLDBERG: [Smiles] No, though I am very 
auractive and get cuter the older I get. 


I'm even getting—well, not statuesque, 
but I'm growing. [Laughs] I'm expand- 
ing. That's the best way to putit. But still 
no calls. 

PLAYBOY: You're probably lucky that you 
didn't do Cutthroat Island. It flopped. 
GOLDBERG: But it might have been a dif- 
ferent movie, you know. 

PLAYBOY. When arc you thought of for 
movie roles? 

GOLDBERG: I don't know. Гус gotten a lot 
of movies when other actors dropped 
out. Burglar was for Bruce Willis. Jumpin’ 
Jack Flash was for Shelley Long. Fatal 
‘Beauty was for Cher, Most of my carcer 
consists of movies that were meant for 
other people. I mean, thank God Bette 
Midler didn’t want to do Sisier Act. 
PLAYBOY: Was it a letdown to go from se- 
rious works such as The Color Purple and 
your one-woman show, which touched 
on many social problems, to your next 
movie, Jumpin’ Jack Flash? 

GOLDBERG: No. It is a piece of fluff, but 
people still tell me how much they loved 
it. Гуе done some wild films, you know. 
Some weren't financially successful, but 
there are none I would hang my head to. 
“That one and Fatal Beauly are mind can- 
dy. They're not going to fix the Bosnian 
problem, but they don't set out to. Also, 
everybody says, “Well, why aren't you 
doing more Color Purples?” But that's not 
what people are asking me to do. It's not 
like somebody handed me another Color 
Purple and Jumpin’ Jack Flash, and 1 said, 
“I choose Jumpin’ Jack Flash.” At the time, 
however, I was just amazed to be doing 
what I was doing. It was other people 
who were criticizing me. I took heat for 
the movies I did; there were about four 
or five years of intense heat. 

PLAYBOY: The gist of it was what? 
GOLDBERG: That I didn’t have it. That I 
was a flash in the pan. But I kept work- 
ing. I tried to get other movies. When I 
heard they were making The Princess 
Bride into a movie 1 said, “Let me audi- 
tion for that.” It was a big lesson for me 
about how it works and what you're sup- 
posed to look like. I hey laughed. “Is she 
crazy?” | said, “But the book is about a 
princess who doesn't look like anybody 
else, who hasa very different attitude. So 
why not me?” It hurt my feelings be- 
cause I thought, Are you telling me 
that because you think I couldn't be a 
princess that all these other doors are 
going to slam too? Basically, yes. So I 
took the stuff that nobody seemed to 
have a problem with me doing. 

PLAYBOY: Like Burglar? 
GOLDBERG: Yeah, which was fun and silly, 
too. That was my macho period. I had 
the best time: motorcycles and leather 
jackets and blue contact lenses! Though 
when I did it I was criticized because I 
didn't turn out to be the female answer 
to Eddie Murphy. 

PLAYBOY: Meaning? 

GOLDBERG: Meaning the movie didn't 
do Eddie Murphy business; it didn't 


produce tremendous amounts of money 
at the box office. 

PLAYBOY: Sister Act did, though. How did 
that change things? 

GOLDBERG: I received lots more money 
for some of the big movics, but great 
movies still didn’t come flying at me. 
PLAYBOY: Alter that movie, it was report- 
ed that you sent Jeffrey Katzenberg, the 
Disney executive in charge, a hatchet in 
the mail. Did you? 

GOLDBERG: Yeah. Because he and I didn't 
click immediately. There were things 
about Sister Act that weren't as good as 
they could have been, and I tried to 
make them better—and Jeffrey thought 
I might have overstepped my bounds. 
PLAYBOY: By giving ideas to the director? 
GOLDBERG: Ideas? Yeah. And they 
weren't really as open as I hoped they 
would be. I just wanted to make things 
better. 1 don't know what their experi- 
ence had been with other actors, but we 
had an antago) 
ly said, "Thi: 
hatchet and said, "Let's pus it,” and he 
sent me back a present. [Smiles broadly] A 
pair of brass balls. And that began our 
friendship. 

PLAYBOY: Ghost was another big success. 
How did that one come to you? 
GOLDBERG: I heard about it and said 1 
wanted to try for it, but my agent said 
they didn’t want me. “But why not? 
What did 1 dor” 1 said, “At least let me 
read for it.” “Well, they feel you would 
bring Whoopi Goldberg baggage.” 
“What is Whoopi Goldberg baggage? 
What does that mean?" So they wouldn't 
see me. Eventually J got a call, though. 
Patrick Swayze insisted they call me. He 
said he did it because he was a fan. Two 
weeks later I had the part. 

PLAYBOY: The movie launched Demi 
Moore and brought you an Oscar. Did 
you expect it? 

GOLDBERG: No. The statue came and it 
was pretty groovy, I have to say. Movies 
1 thought would have gotten me nomi- 
nated just fell by the wayside, such as 
The Long Walk Home, which is some of 
my best work. But nothing—nothing, 
nothing, nothing. So you just kind of 
go, “Oh, well,” and move on. But this 
was nice. 

PLAYBOY: You've played more than one 
psychic. Are you interested in that 
world? 

GOLDBERG: Oh, yeah. I'm a big believer 
that people are still here. They aren't 
forced to stay, they're here by choice— 
they're here just watching. Some people 
were miserable in life and they're miser- 
able in death, which is why we have loud 
and angry ghosts—their essence stays. A 
ghost to me is like perfume. Many peo- 
ple can dab it on and you get different 
wafts and different smells at different 
times. People who worked in this profes- 
sion are with me at times. 

PLAYBOY: Who? 

GOLDBERG: John Garfield is with me. 


If youre a friend of Jack Daniel's, drop us a line. We enjoy hearing from our friends. 


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55 


PLAYBOY 


56 


Parts of James Cagney, some Bette Davis. 
Moms Mabley is with me all the time. A 
great much of her is on my shoulder. Pe- 
riodically, 1 feel wafts of Dorothy Dan- 
dridge. I mean, you look at me and 
think, Why you? My crossover has been 
pretty big—worldwide, in fact. So you 
have to believe that a whole lot of folks 
are behind you, helping you break it out. 
PLAYBOY: Is it incomprehensible that 
you've accomplished what you've accom- 
plished yourself? 

GOLDBERG: I’ve always felt that smatter- 
ings of other people have made my path 
easier. Basically, I’ve had it laid out on a 
silver platter; I mean, really. It's been 
placed in my hand, and I've been ush- 
ered into a foreign land and treated 
rather well, you know. In hindsight, I've 
done a lot better than a lot of peo- 
ple with a lot more talent, and I didn't 
self-destruct. 

PLAYBOY: But where does talent come in? 
GOLDBERG: Jack Nicholson is talented. 

Brando. De Niro. I'm nothing com- 
pared with great actors like that. There 
are a lot of talented actors out there, but 
maybe the camera doesn’t like their face 
or, you know, they’re not good at audi- 
tions, or whatever. I just know I'm one of 
the luckiest people on earth. 

PLAYBOY: Did The Player sum up your 
view of Hollywood? 

GOLDBERG: It was Robert Altman's view, 
but it’s about right. It’s that silly some- 
times. Not quite murder, but you nev- 
er know. 

PLAYBOY: In Boys on the Side your char- 
acter is a lesbian. Was it gratifying that 
the lesbian community applauded your 
portrayal? 

GOLDBERG: Yeah. I did an interview with 
Lea Del aria for The Advocate. She said, 
“You were in, girl, you were in. We loved 
you.” That was good to hear. People 
have asked, “Was it difficult to portray 
a lesbian?” No. It was just like I por- 
tray anybody else. I don't have to walk 
around in muscle shirts with a pack of 
Marlboros rolled up in my sleeve. The 
faces of lesbians have changed. They are 
no longer only short-haired, cigar-smok- 
ing, motorcycle-riding women. These 
are real women. And I'm an actor. 1 can 
become whatever is required. 

PLAYBOY: Including an elderly man in 
The Associate. 

GOLDBERG: I play a woman who is really, 
really good on Wall Street—she takes 
care of all the business and is in a high 
position. But because she's black and a 
woman, she ain't going any higher. So 
she creates this man and suddenly every- 
one wants her—or him. 

PLAYBOY: Though you've made hits and 
s, is it still risky to be in a movie that 
bombs as badly as Theodore Rex, which 
went directly to video? 

GOLDBERG: It seems it would be, but my 
career doesn't make much sense as it is. I 
should not have had the career I’m hav- 
ing. Normally, two or three box-office 


flops can murder a career. But I've had a 
few more of those. Yet despite every- 
thing, people seem to know that my po- 
tential is long-range. So they put me in 
movies. And people go to see my movies. 
Eddie opened in the middle of Twister, 
The Rock and Independence Day and did 
well. It didn't feature bombs exploding. 
It didn’t have a shot of breasts. Nothing 
but silly fluff comedy, and it lived. That 
says something. 

PLAYBOY: Were you a Irekkie before you 
joined the cast of Star Trek? 

GOLDBERG: Oh, yeah. 1 love Star Trek, al- 
ways have. 1 love science fiction, espe- 
cially horror science fiction. I praised the 
heavens when the scence fiction channel 
finally came. 1 love James Whitmore, the 
giant ants under LA. I love Them! and 
Village of the Damned and Planet of the Apes 
and The Omega Man, which is one of my 
favorites. And Soylent Green. I love any of 
the old Universal horror stuff. I loved 
Thriller, the Boris Karloff TV show. 
PLAYBOY: How about The X-Files? 
GOLDBERG: I love The X-Files. I've been 
on Chris Carter for the past couple of 
years to do that show. He told me I have 
to find time. I just love the idea that 
there is this group in the government 
that knows all these strange things are 
happening. You know David Duchovny 
knows and is trying to find where his 
sister went in the link. It’s just the best. 
The best. 

pıavanv: Did Star Trek bring yon a new 
type of fan? 

GOLDBERG: Oh, yes. I get a lot of mail 
from Trekkies. They send me pictures of 
themselves dressed as me. People put 
down Trekkies because they don't really 
understand what they are. The thing is, 
they are people who want this idea of the 
future to be real, where there’s a united 
front and a future where all types of peo- 
ple hang together and fly through the 
galaxy and it is very hip. 

PLAYBOY: As opposed to the Independence 
Day view of the future, in which aliens at- 
tack Earth? 

GOLDBERG: Yeah, and this is what I have 
to say about Independence Day, though it 
is very unchic to say: I didn't care for it at. 
all. It really bugged me. 1 was glad to see 
all those actors working, but if you're go- 
ig to do War of the Worlds, then do it. Do 
it right. Pay attention. Don’t put bucket 
seats with seat belts in an alien craft. 
Don't have a lady running down a tun- 
nel with a fireball chasing her, and have 
the fireball pass her by and she doesn't 
even break a sweat. 1 mean, come on. 
Jeff Goldblum comes in drunk—he's 
throwing stuff around and his father 
says, "Get up off the floor, you're going 
to catch a cold." Goldblum gets up and 
says, "Catch a cold?" and he's sober as all 
get out. Wait a minute, you were drunk 
asa skunk a second ago! I want to know 
where all the clothing came from that 
the women were changing into once 
they got into the bunker. Was there a 


Gap down there? When Bill Pullman 
comes back and his little daughter is 
waiting, there is a woman holding her, 
and she gently thrusts the little girl to- 
ward Bill. The woman is wearing 
pearls—double-stranded pearls. And 
her outfit is newly pressed. I'm looking 
at this woman thinking, Where the fuck 
did you come from? 1 was very bummed. 
PLAYBOY: Would you like to travel in 
space? 
GOLDBERG: Ooh, yeah. But I have to do 
more to prepare. Right now I can barely 
operate a computer. I’m very slow. I just 
play Jeopardy. 
PLAYBOY: Have you been on the Internet? 
GOLDBERG: The Internet is one of those 
things I'm not sure about. I just don't get 
it. And technology is moving at such a 
rate that I can't really keep up with it. I 
was in London recently, reading about 
these chips they want to put into little 
children. I'm not sure. I'm just not sure. 
I don't trust bar codes. Why can't 1 read 
them? Why can't I know what that bar 
code says? It’s a secret code and we're 
kept out of the loop. Scary. 
PLAYBOY: Have you seen any of the sites 
оп the Web that cover you? 
GOLDBERG: No, though I've heard it's all 
over the place, especially Star Trek stuff. 
And let me remind everybody who does 
those things that my birth date is No- 
vember 13, 1955. For some reason, ev- 
erybody has my birthday wrong in every 
^ right, y'all 
s it like turning 40? 
GOLDBERG: If you read stuff about me, 
Туе been 40 for ten years. I'm almost 60 
in some circles. 
PLAYBOY: Is the confusion based on your 
attempts to shave off a few years like oth- 
er actors have been known to do? 
GOLDBERG: 1 used to make myself older, 
not younger, because people would al- 
ways tell me I was too young for the 
parts I was going after. So I gave myself 
two years. Now those two years have 
multiplied into eight or ten or 20. In 
some reports I'm 48, some I'm 51, some 
I'm іп my 30s. I'm 41. 
PLAYBOY: Was it psychically difficult to 
hit 40? 
GOLDBERG: No, I was so happy. I finally 
felt like I was growing into myself. Im 
now growing into my face and growing 
into my thoughts, and I'm clearer about 
alot of things. Everything is pretty great. 
PLAYBOY: It's been written that you met 
Frank Langella on the set of Eddie—and 
he's your boyfriend of the moment. 
GOLDBERG: "Your boyfriend of the mo- 
ment." Now does that sound trite or 
what? How about, "The man with whom 
I'm living and sharing my life." That's 
more elegant. 
PLAYBOY: Do you plan to get married? 
GOLDBERG: No. I'm just happy to be with 
him. He is wonderful. He is funny. It's 
one of the great things about our rela- 
tionship—we get to laugh a lot. But I al- 
so have a great deal of respect for him. 


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57 


He is about the finest American stage 
actor we have. His work, since I was a 
young actor, was kind of like a goal. 
Design for Living, Booth, Dracula, The Fa- 
ther. Just endless. When I first met 
him on the set of Eddie, 1 said, “Why are 
you doing this movie?” He said, “This is 
probably the only way we'll ever get to 
work together.” 

PLAYBOY: So there was romance from the 
start. 

GOLDBERG: [Smiles] Hoo-ha. But it was 
more about working together then. In 
my mind, I had to come up to his level. 
He's extraordinary and a really good 
guy. Which is not to say that the other 
men in my life haven't been. They were 
nice men, but somehow there’s some- 
thing extra extraordinary about this 
one. I’m taking ita day ata time. And, by 
the way, he’s cute. I had to add that. He's 
fine, as my daughter would say. 

PLAYBOY: By now, are you used to ques- 
tions about your relationships? 
GOLDBERG: I'm not used to it at all. It 
wasn't always like this. The public didn't 
really care until I got involved with Ted 
Danson. Since then it has become a real 
thing in my life. It just doesn't go away. 
PLAYBOY: How does it affect you? 
GOLDBERG: It's hard enough to have a re- 
lationship, but to have a relationship un- 
der a microscope is harder. You always 
want to rebut everything you see that 
isn't accurate. I don’t mind if you think 
Um an asshole, but I waut you to think 
I'm an asshole for the right reasons. It's 
hard on everyone around me. When it's 
really inaccurate it bugs the shit out 
of me. 

PLAYBOY: Was the scandal over the Friars 
Club roast the low point for you and Ted 
Danson? 

GOLDBERG: I had a good time at the Fri- 
ars Club. It was funny. 

PLAYBOY: Nor everyone agreed. 
GOLDBERG: No, but people who didn't 
get it were people who didn't under- 
stand what a Friars Club roast is. No one 
warned us that they had opened it to the 
public and that the people on the dais 
had no idea what the hell we were doing. 
I feel like we were set up. If people un- 
derstood what a Friars roast was, they 
wouldn't have been shocked at all. And 
this was one of the funnier roasts that 
had been done. But sadly they chose to 
take something that was done in fun and 
turn it into a lot of bullshit. 

PLAYBOY: Do you think people were gen- 
uinely offended, or was the reaction 
built up by the media? 

GOLDBERG: I think they were genuinely 
offended. 

PLAYBOY: Roast or no roast, do you dis- 
agree that blackface is simply bad taste— 
and is a form of true racism? 

GOLDBERG: 1 do. Was it in bad taste? The 
Friars Club is in bad taste. That’s the 
idea. It's about, “Your ass is so wide 
58 that——” or “Your mother gave head 


PLAYBOY 


to——" That's what it's about. RuPaul 
camc out and talked about how he 
taught me how to give head. We were 
making a point. 

PLAYBOY: What exactly was the point? 
GOLDBERG: Even in hip Hollywood, there 
are people who are uncomfortable with 
a white man and a black woman. The 
stereotypes prevail. So I took them on. 
"Ted and I used to get a lot of really hate- 
ful mail. We took it and pushed it to the 
limit. That was the point of Ted wearing 
blackface. Instead of people understand- 
ing, they looked at it as something they 
could jump on. I said then, as I say now, 
fuck them. 

PLAYBOY: Fuck the black leaders as well 
as the black and white press that cri 
cized you? 

GOLDBERG: Fuck them. What makes me 
sad is that it made Ted very uncomfort- 
able. For that I'm sorry, But I’m not sor- 
ry at all that we did it, nor that I encour- 
aged it. 

PLAYBOY: Do you think Ted is sorry that 
he did it? 

GOLDBERG: Yes, I do think he’s sorry he 
did it. 

PLAYBOY: Because he cared what people 
thought? 

GOLDBERG: He cared very much that 
people said he was a racist. I wish him 
well. I hope his new show works and that 
his new marriage is happy. I hope one 
day we'll be able to sit down and talk 
about it with some laughter. 

PLAYBOY: You don't speak now? 
GOLDBERG: No, and I'm sure we won't 
for a very long time. I don't have any 
problem with what happened. But he 
does. 

PLAYBOY: Did the hate mail come mostly 
from white extremists? 

GOLDBERG: Them, and also from lots of 
black people. Black people were in- 
censed. Again, I've never been politically 
correct and never will be politically cor- 
rect, and I will go where I want to go. 
PLAYBOY: Since the incident, have you. 
spoken with any of the people who criti- 
cized you publicly—Montel Williams or 
Dionne Warwick? 

GOLDBERG: I spoke with Dionne. I said, 
"Look, you know what the Friars Club 
roast is." She said, "Yeah, but it got out." 
I said, "But that’s not my fault. If you 
have a problem you should talk to the 
Friars Club.” She said, “You're right.” I 
don't have anything to say to Montel be- 
cause Montel went out for himself. He 
got the publicity he needed. He used us 
as a soapbox. I think in retrospect that 
he's unhappy he did it, because I think 
he's had a little firestorm of his own, and 
suddenly it occurs to him that that's what 
happens when someone puts your busi- 
ness in the street. Hey, it's OK. I'm go- 
ing to piss people off again. I hope Pm 
not going to piss people off throughout 
my life. 

PLAYBOY: Do you have a lot of time for 
your family? 


GOLDBERG: More and more. I'm a worka- 
holic, but I'm trying to take some breaks. 
We've been spending more and more 
time together. I’m cleaning baby spit off 
my shirt and playing with my grand- 
daughter and watching her cannonball 
into the pool. 
PLAYBOY: Your daughter's father was 
your first husband as well as your drug 
counselor. How did you meet and fall 
in love? 
GOLDBERG: | felt I had better do some- 
thing because I didn't know what was 
coming. I got married, but it wasn't par- 
ticularly right for either of us. I got preg- 
nant and had this little baby, and I Ieft 
my husband and went to San Diego. I 
had a couple of relationships and then 
didn't have a relationship for, like, six 
years. I met another man and had a five- 
year relationship, and he helped me 
raise my daughter. Then I came to New 
York and did my show, and it was tough 
on him, so he went away. And then I 
didn't get married. I went out with a 
couple of people and then slipped back 
into a little drug haze and woke up mar- 
ried to somebody else. 
PLAYBOY: And that was your second 
marriage? 
GOLDBERG: Yeah, and it took me about a 
year and a half to get out of that, and 
then I went into another really bad rela- 
tionship. I then went into what I thought 
had the potential of being a good rela- 
tionship, bur ir didn’t work out, and I 
met another guy and got married, and 
then I realized I had made a mistake and 
said, “I've made a mistake. I'm really 
sorry,” and was in the process of getting 
out of that when I met Frank. So, you 
know, it’s kind of normal, except that 
maybe I got married a few too many 
times. It’s because I love a good party, 
but I have recently realized that I can ac- 
tually just throw a party and not get 
married. 1 think Гуе learned that. Now 
I'm more interested in a caring, loving 
relationship, which is what I have now. 
PLAYBOY: Are you more capable ofhaving 
one now? 
GOLDBERG: Yes. You start telling yourself 
the truth, you know. You start facing re- 
ality. Being in love with someone and be- 
ing with someone is work, and it's daily, 
and it's not a Band-Aid. 
PLAYBOY: Did relationships used to be 
Band-Aids? 
GOLDBERG: Oh, yes. I thought that they 
would make me feel better. I thought 
they would protect me. 
PLAYBOY: Protect you from what? 
GOLDBERG: The world. But now I know 
you're only better if you feel better in- 
side. You have to do the repair work 
that’s required. 
PLAYBOY: Were drugs other Band-Aids? 
GOLDBERG: Yes. Band-Aids that don't 
work. They were a way not to feel pain 
or mistakes. 
PLAYBOY: What drugs did you do? 
(continued on page 178) 


WHAT SORT OF MAN READS PLAYBOY? 


He’s a man who likes to break new trails. He craves the adrenaline rush that comes with virgin 
powder. That's why he starts at the top—and why he reads the world’s largest-selling men’s mag- 
azine. PLAYBOY men spent $26 million on ski equipment last year. That's almost 30 times as 
much as the male readers of GQ. PLAYBOY delivers more men who ski than Esquire and 
Men's Health combined. PLAYBOY—where the adventure begins. (Source: 1996 Spring MRI.) 


59 


he Fed Ex let- balloon and, most often, the blood on 
ter was deliv- Tracy's golden hair as he cradled her a 

SALG tin RE fe ccs Gi lit leer Е A NEW 
James Bond spirited the couple away from their 
Баа Completed RE, d JAMES BOND 
his morning rit- Many years had passed and Bond Wis N $ 
ual of a cold had lived through further adventures У м 
shower, 20slow and dangers. He had managed to bury AD VENTURE 
push-ups, as those painful scars by commiting him- 

many leg lifts as he could manage, 20 self to his work. The women he en- 

reps of touching his toes, and 15 min- countered along the way were diver- 

utes of arm and chest exercises com- sions, to be sure, but none had touched 

bined with deep breathing. his heart the way Tracy had. He 

He was sitting and reading The Times couldn't help but feel that there was 

at his ornate Empire desk in the book- something still unresolved, something 

lined sitting room of his flat off King’s he had to accomplish before he could 

Road in Chelsea when the bell rang. exorcise those demons. 

Bond signed for the letter and took it Bond phoned his son, but there was 

back into the sitting room. It was from no answer at James’ home number. 

“J. Suzuki" in New York. He opened it When he called the bank where James 

and read: worked, they confirmed that James 


DEAR DAD—TERRIBLY URGENT. hadn't been in fordays. Bond booked a 
‘THAT YOU COME TO NEW YORK! flight to New York. 
INEED YOUR HELP! FAIL NOT! . 


WITH LOVE—JAMES 
He rarely heard from his son, a He arrived at 5 
young man working as a banker in the Kennedy Airport at fiction By RAYMOND BENSON 


U.S. James’ mother, Kissy Suzuki, had midday and took a 


died of cancer years ago. Bond had fa- taxi into Manhattan. 
thered the child while suffering from The city was alive 
amnesia during a dark period of his life with the energy that a 
when he lived as a simple fisherman made New York the 


with Kissy on a small island in Japan. premiere cosmopol- 
Bond had left her in search of hisiden- itan city. It was a 


tity, unaware that she was pregnant sunny, unseasonably 
with their son. It was much later, after warm spring day, 
he had recovered from what could clin- and the Manhattan- 


ically be classified as a mental break- ites were out in force. 


down, that he learned of James Suzu- Horns bellowed and 
ki's existence. Bond had helped Kissy endless swarms of 
support the child, even after she had pedestrians darted 
moved to the States. She had suc- across intersections. 


cumbed to her illness when the boy was Bond had dressed 
a teenager and Bond had put him casually in a light who'd want to kill james bond's son? 


through college. blue cotton short- 
The memories of Kissy Suzuki and sleeve polo shirt and 
the island in Japan brought back other navy-blue cotton after a bomb blast, a car chase 


nightmares that Bond had pushed twill trousers. He 
back into his subconscious. М had sent wore a light, gray silk and an encounter with an old enemy, 
him to Japan in the hopes he would basket-weave jacket, d 
snap out of the depression he suffered under which he kept 
nes ER Tracy di his Walther PEK 007 finds the deadly answer 
Vicenzo, at the hands of Ernst Stavro 7.65mm in a chamois 
Blofeld and his partner-in-crime, Irma shoulder holster. The PPK was not 
Bunt. This was the main reason Bond standard issue anymore, but there was 
had little contact with his son—the something about its history, its familiar- 
links in the chain of memories always іу, that gave Bond a sense of security. 
led back to Tracy. The taxi took him to the Upper East 
Although they were buried deep Side, where James Suzuki lived in a 
within his psyche, recollections of the studio apartment at 75th Street and 
events of that era featured in Bond’s First Avenue, not far from the East Riv- 
dreams every now and then. Some- er. Bond paid the driver and stepped 
times he would wake in the middle of out onto the pavement. The area was 
the night with one of several recurring residential, made up of six-story 
images lingering in his mind: Blofeld’s brownstone apartment houses and 
bulging eyes as Bond strangled him to small shops. Bond surveyed the street 
death, Fräulein Bunt slumping to the before entering the building. A mother 
floor after Bond hit her with a staff, the pushed a pram, chatting with anoth- 
castle exploding as Bond watched er woman as they walked. A toadlike 
clinging from a helium-filled weather bag lady, dressed in rags and waddling PARTAGE EEE nenn 


62 


behind a stolen shopping cart filled 
with garbage and bundles, stopped in 
front of the door of James’ building. 
Two teenagers threw coins against a 
brick wall a few yards away. Someone 
shouted across the street. The traffic 
was terribly noisy. 

Bond moved past the bag lady block- 
ing the door to the building and 
stepped inside. As he moved past her, 
Bond was perplexed by what he could 
see underneath the rags shielding her 
face, a strange skin condition with a 
waxen look. He shrugged and exam- 
ined the building directory. He rang 
the bell marked J. SUZUKI and wait- 
ed. The intercom remained silent. 
He rang the bell again. Nothing 
happened. 

One bell was marked super, and he 
tried it. A moment later, the intercom 
blurted, “Yeah, who is it?” 

“I'm looking for James Suzuki in ЗА. 


BOND KNELT HEAVILY 
BESIDE THE BODY 
OF HIS ONLY SON. 


I'm his father. Can you let me in?" 
Bond barked into the speaker. 

He heard some grumbling, and then 
the lock on the inner door buzzed. 
Bond pushed it open and entered a 
dingy corridor facing a flight of stairs. 
The super's door opened at the back of 
the hall. A fat man in an undershirt 
and boxer shorts peered out. 

“You got ID?” the man asked. He 
had a fairly thick Bronx accent. 

After looking at Bond's Ministry of 
Defence credentials, the man heaved 
himself up the stairs, far too slowly for 
Bond's patience, then wrestled with 
the key ring and unlocked the door. 

Bond recognized the foul stench as 
soon as the door swung open. He bolt- 
ed past the fat man into the small 
apartment. “Stay out!” he shouted to 
the super. 

James Suzuki lay on his back in the 
middle of the floor, his body in an ad- 
vanced state of putrefaction, its fea- 
tures bloated. 

Bond knelt heavily beside the body 
of his only son. 


Special Agent Chery] Haven scrib- 
bled in a small notebook as Bond 
spoke. 

“You didn't touch anything?" she 
asked in a northern England accent. 

Bond shook his head, still stunned 
by his discovery. 

He had contacted the city’s British 


PLAYBOY 


64 


Secret Service branch after convincing 
the super, with the aid ofa $50 bill, that 
there was no need for the local police. 
Within minutes, Cheryl Haven and an 
American investigative team had ar- 
rived at the apartment. The crime 
scene personnel—a forensic specialist, 
a photographer and a medical examin- 
er—were already at work on the body 
and the room. 

Bond gestured toward the kitchen 
counter. “There's an envelope ad- 
dressed to me. I haven't opened it.” 

Agent Haven said, “We'll make it top 
priority.” She turned to the forensic 
specialist. “Dan? Dust the envelope on 
the counter so we can see what's inside. 
Paul, could you take some photos of 
the kitchen before Dan dusts that enve- 
lope?” She turned back to Bond. “He 
was due to check in next week.” Family 
members of all secret service personnel 
residing in foreign countries were re- 
quired to contact the local branch once 
a month. “I know, because he usually 
spoke with me. He was a nice young 
man. I'm sorry.” 

Bond nodded abruptly and averted 
his eyes. 

She quickly returned to business. 
“We still have time to go by his bank. 
You have no idea why you received the 
Fed Ех?" 

“No” 

The medical examiner cleared his 
throat. “I have some preliminary re- 
sults. We still need to do an autopsy, of 
course.” 

“What did you find?" she asked. 

"He's been dead for four days, give 
or take 12 hours. From the looks of it, 
he was poisoned. Look at this wound 
on his arm here.” 

Bond and the woman stood and 
looked closely at the corpse. There was 
an incision about an inch long on 
James’ left forearm. It was swollen and 
dark. 

“A very sharp, thin blade. That's 
where the poison entered the blood- 
stream. A razor blade, perhaps. You 
can see the edema around the wound. 
There's dried blood on his shirt there, 
see? It must have been powerful stuff. 
He died of respiratory paralysis. Some 
kind of inebriant, I imagine, something 
exotic.” 

The forensic man finished dusting 
the envelope and handed it to Bond. 
Bond carefully opened it and emptied 
the contents onto the counter. A small 
silver key fell out. The number 366 was 
embossed on it. 

“Looks like a safe-deposit key,” 
Agent Haven said. She named a well- 
known Japanese bank. "It's got their 
logo on it.” 

“My son's employer,” Bond said. 

He needed to get out of that apart- 
ment and clear his head. He had to 


think. Who would want to kill his son? 
Was it an attempt to get at him? Bond 
rubbed his brow, forcing his mind to go 
back over the past few wecks. Had 
there been any kind of warning? Had 
he any reason to suspect someone? 
Anyone? He couldn’: think of a single 
thing that was relevant. Maybe James 
had been in trouble. Perhaps the con- 
tents of the safe-deposit box would 
provide the answers. 


“Iwll be faster if we walk," Agent 
Haven said, grabbing her purse. Once 
on the pavement, Bond and the wom- 
an walked briskly south. 

It was the first time Bond had actual- 
ly looked at her. She was in her late 30s 
or early 40s but had the figure and 
complexion of a woman in her 20s. She 
was tall, with long, strong legs, re- 
vealed by the short, slim skirt of a light- 
weight worsted wool business suit. Her 
thin but silky blonde hair blew be- 
hind her as they walked, and her full 
breasts moved beneath her jacket. 
Bond thought she was quite attractive. 

“Where are you from, Agent Ha- 
yen?” Bond asked. “I detected a north- 
ern England accent. Blackpool?” 

“You got it right,” she said, increas- 
ing the speed of her stride. “Call me 
Cheryl, please, Mr. Bond.” 

“Only if you call me James,” he said, 
matching her pace. “How did you get 
to be station branch head in Manhat- 
tan? What happened to Forbes?” 

“Alan got rich playing Lotto. Can 
you believe it? He retired early and 
went to live in Texas,” she said, laugh- 
ing. “I was second-in-command and 
got the promotion. I’m surprised we 
never met before.” 

“I am, too,” he said. “So tell me 
about James. Was he all right? Did he 
ever sound like he was in trouble?” 

The two had to stop for a red light at 
a busy intersection. 

“Never,” Cheryl said. “He called on 
time every month and we chatted for a 
„He asked 


Bond smiled ruefully. The sins of the 
fathers... 

"I never received any indication that 
he was into anything but his work at. 
the bank, the girls he dated and the 
Knicks," she continued. The light 
turned green and they continued. 
They reached an intersection just 
across from the bank. Immediately to 
their left, a street vendor selling hot 
dogs shouted and cursed, waving away 
a short woman dressed in rags and 
pushing a shopping cart. 

“Poor old lady,” Cheryl said. 

Bond was staring at her back when 
he heard Cheryl say, “Come on, the 
light's green.” 


They crossed the street and went in- 
to the bank. Inside, they sought out the 
bank manager to inform him of James 
Suzuki's death and explain the situa- 
tion. Mr. Nishiuye, the manager, ex- 
pressed appropriate words of dismay 
and sympathy, then led them down- 
stairs to the safe-deposit area, a small 
room protected by a barred gate. 
There was a long table in the center, 
surrounded by four chairs on rollers. 
Number 366 was nearly eye-level on 
the wall. The manager stood in the 
doorway and watched Bond insert the 
small silver key into the lock. Once en- 
gaged, the key wouldn't turn. 

"Oh dear,” Mr. Nishiuye said, apolo- 
getically, "I'm afraid we have been hav- 
ing trouble with some of those locks 
lately. That's the third one this week.” 

Bond struggled with it, withdrew the 
key and reached for his belt buckle, “I 
have a lock pick here, let me try that.” 

“That's from our old friend Major 
Boothroyd, I take it?” Cheryl asked. 
“I have one, too, but it’s the ladies’ 
model.” 

“Wait,” the manager said. “We have 
a maintenance man. He is the lock- 
smith. He opened the others easily. Let 
me find Sam.” 

“Hurry,” Bond said. After he had 
left, Bond shrugged and said to Che- 
ryl, “I probably could have had it open 
by the time he returns.” 

“Relax, Mr. B., I mean, James,” she 
said. “I don’t think we're going to solve 
this in one night, and ГЇЇ make sure 
you're allowed to stay as long as you 
need.” 

Bond sat down uneasily in one of the 
ан and stared at the safe-deposit 

X. 

“What is it?" she asked. "You look 
tired. Do you feel jet-lagged?” 

Bond said, "No, it's the homeless 
woman we saw outside. „There's 5 some- 
thing, I don't know. . 

“What?” 

“I'm quite sure I saw her earlier out- 
side James’ apartment. When I first got 
there.” 

“Well, that was hours ago. She could 
have wheeled her little cart this far in 
that time.” 

“I know,” Bond reflected, “but 
there's something else. She reminds 
me of something, or someone." 

Cheryl sat down beside him and 
placed her smooth, warm hand on his. 

"Listen, James," she said. "You've 
had a shock—not that you're not han- 
dling this remarkably well. But still . . . 
take it easy." 

“The manager returned with another 
man who was dressed in overalls and 
carrying a tool kit. 

"Number 366, Sam." Mr. Nishiuye 
pointed to the vall of box fronts. 

(continued on page 160) 


GANGSTER-SNITCH GREGORY 
SCARPA CONNED THE 

FEDS WHILE HE MURDERED 
HIS ENEMIES. THIS COULD 
BE THE MOST AMAZING 

FBI SCANDAL OF ALL 


CORY SCARPA was a different sort 

of American success story. He was 

a spy, a mole at the core of orga- 

nized crime in New York. For pro- 

tection and for money, Scarpa told 

federal authorities how organized 

crime worked and provided infor- 

mation that helped put many of 

his fellow gangsters in prison. Officially, Scarpa 

worked for the FBI, but the facts suggest that the 

mobster was the boss and that his so-called assis- 

tance to law enforcement was just part of his scam. 

Indeed, the relationship between Scarpa and the 

FBI is likely to prove unique in the annals of Amer- 

ican crime and law enforcement. And, even if it re- 

mains relatively obscure, it surely ranks as one of 
the FBI's worst scandals. 

Of course, the FBI put people in jail with infor- 
mation provided by Scarpa. But, citing the FBI's 
own documents, an attorney for one of those con- 
victs maintains that the FBI's relationship with 
Scarpa amounted toa crime in itself. Indeed, a de- 
fense lawyer told me, "I can say without hesitation 
that in the collective experience of all the law- 
yers involved in the various Scarpa appeals, none 
has ever run into anything as stupefying as Greg 
Scarpa's relationship with the FBI.” 

Scarpa died in 1994, shortly before the secret re- 
lationship was exposed—though hoods and law- 
men had long suspected it. But the gangster haunts 
the FBI. Did his handlers attempt to cover up the 
often bloody details of the hoodlum’s easy success 
in conning the FBI? That's (continued on page 138) 


ARTICLE BY BOB DRURY 


ILLUSTRATION BY DAVID SINCLAIR 


TEXT BY 
JOHN UPDIKE 


a unique portfolio of the legend who loved to be naked 


Lytess, who lived with the budding movie star 

in the late Forties, recalled how she would come 
wandering naked from her bedroom around noon, 
bathe for an hour and, “still without a stitch on, drift 
in a sort of dreamy, sleepwalking daze into the kitchen 
and fix her own breakfast.” So it was at the studio, 
where she “ambled unconcerned, completely naked, 
around her bungalow, among wardrobe women, make- 
up girls, hairdressers. Being naked seems to soothe 
her—almost hypnotize her. If she caught sight of her- 
self in a full-length mirror, she’d sit down—or just 
stand there—with her lips hanging slack and eyes 
droopily half shut like a cat being tickled.” Vagrant as 
achild, Monroe was at home, at ease, in her skin. The 
photo to the right appeared in 1953 as the first rLarsor 
Sweetheart, the precursor of the Playmate centerfold. 


M arilyn Monroe was not nudity-averse. Natasha 


PHOTOGRAPHS BY MILTON H. GREENE 
(© 1994 THE ARCHIVES OF WILTON H. GREENE, LLC. 


en undressed are stripped of the power that uniforms 
and armor confer; women put on power of a precarious, 
primal sort. These early cheesecake poses, some of a 
brunette still known as Norma Jeane Baker, show her 
experimenting with her power. Fatherless and with a 


mentally unstable mother, she married young and worked in a 
war plant; when an Army photographer chose her for a publicity 
shot, her make-believe life began. Gamely, she led her photog- 
raphers on, teasing them to dare more, challenging the lens. 


odeling supported the struggling young starlet. In 1949 photographer Tom Kelley offered her $50 to 
pose nude for a calendar, just the amount she needed to buy back her repossessed car. “He stretched 
me out on this red velvet and it was sort of drafty,” she recalled. “When | was a kid, I used to dream 
of red velvet.” The streiched-out dreamer became a swimmer through the dreams of unknown men. 


PHOTOGRAPHS BY TOM KELLEY 


PHOTOGRAPHS BY WOODFIELD/SCHILLER 


ore than a dozen years later, the swimmer had become world-famous, grievously addicted to pills, 
divorced from Joe DiMaggio and Arthur Miller, and only a delicious bit chunky. Her body was old- 
style—pre-buns of steel. Something’s Got to Give aptly titled a doomed movie she was fired from 
for tardiness and fuzziness; but she did perform a swimming-pool scene, voluntarily shucking her 
flesh-colored bathing suit and leaving on film a haunting record of what the world would soon lose. 


А 


PHOTOGRAPHS BY BERT STERN 


onroe collaborated cunningly iı i z Bert Stern has left a hard-breathing 
account of how, six weeks before her suicide, he turned a fashion shoot for Vogue into a striptease. 
The climactic shots came after midnight, and the model had been loosened up with plenty of Dom 
Pérignon. Yet who, looking at the results, can doubt that such immortalizing exposure was what she 
desired? She studied the transparencies, mutilating with a hairpin the ones she didn't want used. 


arilyn rests. Stem's assistant, Leif-Erik Nygärds, snapped 
the exhausted, casually naked star when everyone else 
| had left the room. Her pubic hair is unbleached; her hand 
| rests like a self-comforting child's beneath her lightly smil- 
ing mouth. The semblance of intimacy and the sensation of isola- 
tion are the twin conditions of those who live by what the public 


sees of them. Arthur Schlesinger Jr., who saw an omount of Monroe in the shadowy months when she drifted like o ghost 
through the corridors of the Kennedys’ Camelot, writes of how “she receded into her own glittering mist. There was some- 
thing ot once magical and desperote about her.” Her life os o person ended at 36, in on odor of despair ond failure. Her 
life os an image is a continuing, swelling triumph. Her dreamy owkwordnesses, her inability to stay a wife or become 
о mother, her pathetic death consecrate her to a lonely monumentolity. Hod she lived, she would be 70 ond one more 
discomfiting reminder of how we oll age, even the most beautiful. As is, like о broken marble Venus, she defies time. 


N dex Bestiary 


humor 
By George Plimpton 
next to these 
creatures, the birds 
and bees look like 


beginners 


ILLUSTRATIONS BY ARNOLOROTH 


The Foreplay 


A rather fussy giraffe that likes to prepare for its appearance at the watering place by primping, rubbing its skin 
to a fine glow on the nearest giraffe, flossing its teeth, shining its hooves and so on. It sometimes attracts the 
attention of the Premature Ejaculation (q.v. and occasionally the Blue Balls. The Foreplay is much admired by 
‚guides and naturalists who wish that other denizens of water holes would emulate its calculated behavior— 


especially the overeager Wham-Bam-ThankYou-Ma'am. 


The French Kiss 


Alively species of prairie dog that spends most of its 
time lolling about in its burrow, sometimes emerging to 
rub itself against a lollipop. On occasion it darts from 
its burrow and on impulse tries to enter the burrow of 
another prairie dog, usually, but not exclusively, that 
of a member of the opposite sex. Often the inhabitant 
of the invaded burrow will have none of it and shout, 
“Stop it!” or “Ugh.” The French Kiss is often referred to 
in urban areas as the Soul Kiss and is considered a pre- 
cursor on the evolutionary scale of the Dry Hump and, 
oddly, the Premature Ejaculation. 


A terrifying bat, 
of either gender, 
that hangs upside 
down in doorways 
and emits a sound 
like a doorbell's. 
Often its appear- 
ance to whomever 
opens the door re- 
sults in a gasp, 
sometimes à 
scream. The Blind 
Date is not to be 
confused with the 
Significant Other 
or the older 
Steady, which 
tend to live less 
parlous lives. The 
largest conven- 
tion of Blind 
Dates takes place 
annually in Madi- 
> У son Square Gar- 


Th e >) den under the 
A guidance of the 


One- — Reverend Sun- 


Night Myung Moon. 
Stand 


A rather anguished- A species of manatee or sea cow. Rarely seen, the Wet Dream is thought 
looking variety of wad- by some to be a figment of the imagination—indeed, it is often referred 
ing bird, the One-Night to as “the Figment.” It appears only at night. Often the only evidence of 
Stand usually frequents its passing, inevitably in the company of the Erection (referred to in erot- 
sandbars and motel ic literature as the Swollen Member), is a damp spot on the riverbank. An 
parking lots. It roosts enduring myth is that the sight of the Wet Dream is experienced largely 
at night in a succession by teenagers and monks. 

of trees, never finding 

one to its complete sat- 

isfaction and thus The Wet 

rarely getting much Dream 

sleep. It stands on one 

foot until dawn won- 


dering if it has made a 
mistake. Its strange, 
forlorn cries at day- 
break have been vari- 
ously interpreted as 
where-am4?, or what- 
have--done?, and often 
why-did-I-have-that-last- 
drink? The One-Night 
Stand is not to be con- 
fused with the Marital 
Bliss or the Nuptial Bed, 
which are birds of a 
quite different hue. 


The Spanish Fly 


A widely touted fruit fly that, in fact, does not produce fruit nor, 
indeed, fly. It has a corps of press agents who proclaim its 
virtues and promise that its performance will dazzle an audi- 
ence into oohs and aahs and Oh my Gods. In fact it is quite tor- 
pid. Though often headlined in a Las Vegas showplace, it never 
turns up. It looks rather squashed. It is the least distinguished 
of a large family, Aphrodisiae, whose other members range from 
innocuous (the Oyster) to more rambunctious (the Ecstasy). 


The Premature Ejaculation 


A large and rather messy parrot known for its inabil- 
ity to complete the time-honored phrase “Polly 
wants a cracker.” It ruffles its feathers, strains 
mightily and then says, “Polly.” This is generally fol- 
lowed by *uli-oli" and a studied rearrangement of 
feathers. It often cohabits with the Buick (q.v). 


x 5 


The Buick 


A hippo. It hangs out at drive-in theaters, in the cor- 
ners of supermarket parking lots and on sandy roads 
after twilight. It glides to a stop. Its eyelids close. It 
hums soft music. For many years its favorite song was 
Teen Angel. In cold weather it steams. It rocks, first 
slowly, then with increasing intensity as if wallowing in 
dreams. It leaves evidence of its passage—cigarette 
butts, a wad of chewing gum, a beer can or two and, 
оп occasion, lace panties. 

The Dry Hump is sometimes associated with the 
Buick, So is the Premature Ejaculation. 


The Camilla Parker-Bowles 


A skulking forest dweller on large English estates, the Camilla Parker-Bowles is elusive. It is so advanced on the 
evolutionary scale that the females of the species often wear merkins—pubic wigs, One of the major problems 
in the wild is that kingfishers like to nest in merkins, which tends to upset the sensibilities of other forest 
dwellers, especially those who can't afford merkins. 


Does God Have Orgasms? 


the noted new age seer and author celebrates the natural pairing of sex and spirituality, 


and wonders why western religions are intent on separating the two 


article By Deepak Gh 


‘SCULPTURE BY FRANK GALLO. 


EFORE I take up the 
alarming question of 
whether God has or- 
gasms, I will begin 
with a story of two 
Martians. A spaceship from Mars has 
landed in New York City with the mis- 


sion of studying the earth’s inhabitants. 
"The ship's commander turns to one of 
his crew and says, “Find somebody on 
the street and ask him what makes hu- 
mans happiest in all the world.” Then 
he turns to a second crew member and 


says, “You find somebody on the street 
and ask him what makes humans un- 
happiest in all the world.” 

“Yes, sir,” the two Martians say. They 
depart, and return in an hour. 

“Well, what do you have to report?” 
the commander asks the first Martian. 

“Sir, I found a human male in his 
mid-30s coming out of an office build- 
ing on Fifth Avenue. I asked him what 
made him happiest in the world, and 
he said, “Sex.” 

“Very good,” the commander says. 


He turns to the second Martian. “And 
what do you have to report?” he asks. 

“Sir, I also found a human male in 
his mid-30s coming out of an office 
building on Fifth Avenue. I asked him 
what made him unhappiest in the 
world, and he said, “Sex.” 

"What? That makes no sense. Give 
me your notes," the commander or- 
ders. He scrutinizes the papers his two 
scouts hand to him. "You bunglers, 
here's the problem. You both asked the 
same man." 


PLAYBOY 


I think of this as a very plausible sto- 
ry. If you had to define human beings 
to aliens who knew nothing about us, 
we could well be described as the only 
creatures on the planet who are am- 
bivalent about sex. Sex is as much a 
source of guilt, shame and secrecy as it 
is of joy, delight and creativity. Sex 
drove Jack the Ripper and Picasso; it 
has been expressed in Michelangelo's 
sonnets and in obscene messages on 
the Internet. Sex is a necessary biologi- 
cal function that many people rarely 
engage in; at the same time itisa recre- 
ational function, freed of its biological 
necessity, that millions of people en- 
gage in out of sheer pleasure. 

“To resolve this dichotomy, human 
beings constantly look for answers, be- 
cause living with ambiguity isn’t com- 
fortable. Besides turning to therapists, 
friends, family members and the next 
guy in the locker room, people seek an- 
swers in some version of spirituality, 
Which in essence means that they want 
to know, “What does God think about 
sex?” Most of the time, it seems that she 
is against it. Puritanism is, after all, 
both a religious sect and a synonym for 
rigid sexual repression. Two thousand 
years ago Saint Paul wrote that it was 
better to marry than to burn—in es- 
sence, he threw up his hands in exas- 
peration, saying, “Well, if you people 
have to ” The Christian West hasn't 
progressed much further, it often 
seems, in shedding spiritual light on 
sex. Since the days of D.H. Lawrence 
and Henry Miller, conventional reli- 
gion has been severely criticized as a 
primary source of sexual guilt and 
shame, and in these latter days of sexu- 
al scandals involving a huge number (if 
still a minority) of the clergy, no one 
with spiritual authority has stepped 
forward to strike a blow against repres- 
sion and guilt, much less to celebrate 
sex аз а sacred act. 

These are dark days for sex and spir- 
ituality. Therefore, I would like to offer 
three shocking propositions: 

Sex is itself spiritual, because flesh and 
spirit are one. 

God is in every orgasm. 

The creative energy of the universe is 
sexual. 

I do not offer these statements as a 
sexual rebel or social renegade. These 
are intimate truths that I have worked 
toward in my own life; they are offered 
to anyone who wants to abandon the 
confusion of conventional wisdom and 
find the truth for himself or herself. 
‘Truth isn't handed down from a moun- 
taintop—it is a process. You discover it 
by walking a path. In every religion 
this path leads to God, but at the same 
time it leads to love. Therefore, try- 
ing to discover the truth means con- 
fronting God's love, and sex is part of 


that love. In my view, there is no way 
around it. 

Let me put forward my three state- 
ments one at a time: 

Sex is itself spiritual, because flesh and 
spirit are one. 

I cannot accept a world in which 
flesh and spirit are divided. A God of 
love doesn't punish us for having bod- 
ies; in fact, he created our bodies. To a 
skeptic, the word spirit has no concrete 
definition, and therefore asserting that 
flesh and spirit are one makes little 
sense. By “spirit” I mean the life force, 
the “breath of God,” as the Bible calls 
it. Spirit is the difference between an 
inert lump of sugar anda living human 
body. Both contain complex carbon- 
based chemicals, but the sugar circulat- 
ing in every cell of your body is animat- 
ed; it is far from inert. 

Spirit is life, and therefore it is love. 
When two people unite in love, a spiri- 
tual contact is made. You can ignore 
this fact and turn sex into a loveless 
and therefore lifeless enterprise. But 
listen to the words of a medieval mys- 
tic named Symeon the New Theolo- 
gian (in Stephen Mitchell's beautiful 
translation): 

For if we genuinely love him, 

we wake up inside Christ's body 

where all our body, all over, 

every most hidden part of it, 

15 realized in joy as him, 

and he makes us, utterly, real. 


If these sensuous lines don’t sound 
like theology as you are used to hear- 
ing it, imagine the shock they aroused 
among the Greek Orthodox communi- 
ty a thousand years ago. Symeon flout- 
ed the conventional wisdom that the 
Holy Ghost was above and apart from 
human flesh; he perceived spirit as 
a penetrating, transforming love, a 
merging that turns every cell into God. 
‘The sensuous intimacy of such an idea 
still has the power to provoke contro- 
versy. When Symeon declares, “I move 
my foot, and at once/ He appears like a 
flash of lightning," Christ's manifesta- 
tion reminds me of orgasm, which is al- 
so a penetrating and sudden explosion 
of love within flesh. 

It's no surprise that Symeon paid for 
his words with exile, spending his final 
years in a remote Turkish village, well 
away from the religious mainstream of 
his day and roundly condemned by 
church authorities. But now we can 
hear the voice of a saint in his vision of. 
how "everything/that seemed to us 
dark, harsh, shameful/maimed, ugly, 
irreparably/ damaged, is in him trans- 
formed/and recognized as whole, as 
lovely/and radiant in his light." For 
many people today, the words dark, 
ugly, shameful and damaged apply to 
sex, and to transform these feelings in- 


to joy and fulfillment is the goal of 
spirituality. 

Symeon's voice sounds like the voice 
of a saint, but I believe his vision ap- 
plies to us all—we are lovers in both 
flesh and spirit who are trying to 
“awaken as the beloved/in every last 
part of our body." A thousand years 
agoa lover of God was not permitted to 
speak reverently of the body, because 
that violated the dogmatic belief that 
the body was wicked and corrupt. In 
our age, the opposite belief has more 
or less turned to dogma: The act of 
love is basically physical, to the ex- 
clusion of the spirit. In either case the 
fusion of spirit and body has been 
missed. 

Yet at moments love creates a sur- 
prising, unexpected joy that no dogma 
can hold back. The touch of your 
beloved or simply the sight of her can 
seem suddenly amazing, appearing 
like lightning, just as Symeon says. This 
joy penetrates the heart as if it were 
from nowhere, because love is inherent 
in life itself. 

God is in every orgasm. 

Iforgasm is purely physical, it has no 
spiritual meaning. But when it brings a 
burst of joy and love, it has the poten- 
tial to contain God. This is the kind of 
statement that easily arouses reactions 
of fear and hatred. If you have taken 
God out of sex and made her aloof and 
pure (so that sex can remain earthly 
and dirty), then your credo is one of 
separation. You believe that humans 
are fallen and presumably that they 
will remain fallen as long as sex exists. 
"This is a shame-based view of human 
nature, and I am not here to try to 
abolish it. Every person is entitled to 
his own beliefs in these matters. 

On the other hand, love's journey is 
about getting out of shame and guilt. 
Does God really want us to stamp out 
and condemn part of our nature—a 
part shared by every living creature— 
before we feel loved by him? Three 
thousand years ago the ancient scrip- 
tures of India declared of human be- 
ings that we are "born in bliss, sus- 
tained in bliss and return to bliss after 
we depart." Bliss, or Ananda in San- 
Skrit, is more than a feeling of joy. It is 
our true nature. God is bliss, and in her 
image so are we. Therefore, the unde- 
niable bliss of sexuality is itself divine in 
origin. 

"There is no doubt that sexual plea- 
sure can be cheapened, degraded, cor- 
rupted, turned into perversion and 
stripped of love. But if you can look 
past that, isn’t it possible that sex is a 
place where people in fact feel free, 
open and truly themselves? Almost 
everything else in modern life is en- 
cumbered by rules and boundaries. 

(continued on page 184) 


“What are you guys doing later, after we drop off the gifts?” 


91 


orgoing black tie 
for a banded-collar shirt 
has become too L.A.-at-the- 
Oscars for us. Instead, we 
offer a few alternative ways 
to break tux tradition. Want 
to brighten up the party 
scene? Wear a dark jacket 
with a jewel-toned dress 
shirt and a Windsor-knot- 
ted tie. A dinner suit with a 
longer jacket looks equal- 
ly festive, as does clothing 
made from velvet, cashmere 
and satin. Or you can mix 
and match, such as a velvet 
blazer with tuxedo pants. 
Cheers looking at you. 


Left: This dressed-down for- 
mal fare includes a three- 
button tuxedo suit ($1250) 
and a shirt with French cuffs 
($80), both by Valentino 
Uomo, a silk tie by Valenti- 
no Cravatte ($75), a pocket 
square by Robert Talbott 
(about $50), cuff links by 
Faces of Time ($130) and 
shoes by Donna Karan 
($425). Her dress is by Sev- 
erin at Showroom Seven. 


Below: For o dramatic New Year's 
look, combine a long wool collar- 
less frock-style сос! ($985) and 
wool trousers ($475), both by Don- 
no Karan, with а black cotton 
French cuff shirt by Colvin Klein 
($175), a contrasting silk tie from 
Protocol by Robert Talbott ($105) 
and suede slip-on shoes with pol- 
ished leother piping, by Bruna 
Magli (5285). Both women’s dress- 
es are by Elizabeth Fillmore. 


PHOTOGRAPHY BY CHUCK BAKER 


Ermenegilde Zegna ($220), shown with an 

ie by Tino Cosma ($80), sterling sil 
ver moonstone cuff links by Margo Manhatta 
($285) and a lapel stud made of ivory and `. 
carved mother of pearl by Gem Kingdom ($160) 
Bottom right: Ribbed jacquard pocket square by 
Tino Cosma ($25) and 18-kt. gold cuff links with 
moonstories, by Elizabeth Locke Jewels (52000). 
Bottom scent herringbone cotton shirt 
with spread collar, by Gucci ($227), iridescent silk 
taffeta tie by Calvi ($85) and matte gold 
cuff links by E i п Ltd. of London ($165). 


, 
y, 


At far left, we've paired a vel- 
vet blazer ($570) and a cotton 
shirt with French cuffs ($140), 
both by Nicole Farhi, with 
morning trousers by 
Baldessarini ($250), a silk- 
and-satin tie from Best of 
Class by Robert Talbott ($105), 
silver cuff links by U+1 ($100), 
silk socks by Mountain High 
Hosiery (about $40) and suede 
slip-ons by Bruno Magli 
($285). At near left, we've 
combined a double-breasted 
tuxedo ($1400) and a cash- 
mere turtleneck ($400), both 
by Cerruti 1881, with slip-ons 
by Donna Karan ($425) and 
silk socks by Mountain High 
Hosiery (about $40). Her dress 
is by Severin at 

Showroom Seven. 


A 
1 
Р 2 
= 


WOMEN'S STYLING BY LISA VON WEISE 
FOR MAREK & ASSOCIATES 


Near right: The leader of this 
sexy lineup wears a velvet dou- 
ble-breasted suit ($795) from 
the Ralph Lauren collection, a 
cotton shirt (about $70) anda 
silk satin tie ($55), both from 
Polo by Ralph Lauren, plus a 
linen pocket square by Robert 
Talbott (about $55). The middle- 
man combines a velvet suit 
($950) and a piqué tuxedo shirt 
($125), both by Hugo Boss, with 
a silk tie by Valentino Cravatte 
($75) and a lapel stud by Gem 
Kingdom ($160). 


Near left: Our end guy's outfit 
includes a velvet double-breast- 
ed suit with peaked lapels 
($795) and flat-front trousers 
(about $300), plus a herring- 
bone striped shirt with spread 


{ collar and French cuffs (about 
$230), all by Gucci, a silk taffeta 
tie by Calvin Klein ($85) and 


silver-and-enamel rectan- 
gular cuff links by Gem 
Kingdom ($130). The women's 
dresses are by Nicole Farhi 
(far left and right) and Arte 
Cerruti 1881 (center). 


» 
ЬЯ 


HAIR BY RICKEY LEE BABINEAUX FOR SALLY HARLOR 
MAKEUP BY BJ. GILLIAN/LOUIS LICARIGROUP/VISAGES NY: 


WHERE & HOW TO BUY ON PAGE 144. 


THE DORT 


TROPEZ 
FICTION BY 


HAROLD DODPITS 


what i needed 
was peace and quiet— 
i had work to do. was 
it my fault that women 
wouldn’t leave me 


alone? 


(RA t was eight o'clock in the 

€ morning and Margo, my 

cook, had just put breakfast on 

€ L7 the table. Ham and eggs on half 

a baguette fresh from the bakery, and 

a full pot of Taster's Choice coffee. T 

never had a taste for French coffee at 

breakfast, even when served au Init. 

But the breakfast, sandwich style, was 
delicious. 

The telephone rang and Margo an- 
swered it in the kitchen. I could 
hear her voice clearly. “Ош, Monsieur. 
Oui, Monsieur, Monsieur Robbins is 
awake.” She couldn't speak English 
well, but well enough to be under- 
stood. She came back to the dining 
room. "Monsieur Bobby is calling you 
from California." 

I left my breakfast and walked over 
to the phone in the entrance hall. 

"Good morning," I said. 

“Having your lox, bagel and cream 
cheese this morning for breakfast?" he 
asked, laughing. 

"Don't make me crazy. 1 would love 


ILLUSTRATION BY LEROY NEIMAN 


PLAYBOY 


to be at my favorite deli,” 1 said. “But 
I have been on a ham-and-eggs diet 
out here in the uncivilized world.” I 
reached for a cigarette. “What are you 
doing up so late? It has to be midnight 
in L.A.” 

"I've got good news. Universal Stu- 
dios picked up the television miniseries 
sequel to 79 Park Avenue and agreed to 
pay you $250,000 to write the story,” 
he said. “But Sid Sheinberg has one 
stipulation. They want it in a hurry. 
They want Lesley Ann Warren to star 
in it, and they don’t want to give her 
time to sign on to another project.” 

“How much of a hurry?” 

“Two weeks. Sid said they had to 
have it in their hands in two weeks,” he 
said. Bobby's voice sounded tinny over 
the transcontinental telephone line. 
“That's why they're willing to pay you 
that much money.” 

“Two weeks!” I said incredulously. 
“Nobody can write that fast.” 

“C'mon, Harold,” he shot back. “You 
wrote Stiletto in a week.” 

“But that was another time. Fewer 
distractions. Right now we have my in- 
laws visiting from the States. There are 
half a dozen people arriving tomorrow 
to celebrate my daughter's birthday in 
two weeks.” I took a drag off my cig- 
arette. "I can't even get into my of 
fice near the port because Grace gave 
it to her gay friends until the birthday 
party.” 

“But if you had a place to work, you 
could finish the script?” 

“Sure.” 

"You've got the yacht. Get on it, take 
it someplace where no one can bother 
you, write the ‘bible’ and you'll be back 
in time for Adreana’s birthday. You 
have a crew of four on that yacht, and I 
know Cathy is a super cook.” He was 
silent for a moment, then said, “Be- 
sides, we need the money. You're late 
on your taxes and we have to keep the 
company running." 

"OK," I said. “Just start praying.” 

After I finished breakfast, I called the 
boat. Ken answered. 

“Good morning," I said. "Everything. 
OK there?" 

“Fine, sir," he said. 

“OK,” I said. “Take Anton with you 
and go to the office. Bring my type- 
writer and about three packages of pa- 
per. Also get some Bic pens and two lit- 
Че bottles of Wite-Out. Bring it all back 
to the boat and get ready to set off for 
St. Tropez. Call the port captain and 
tell him we want a good place on the 
quay. We'll need it for abouta week. Al- 
so tie in to the port telephone lines.” 

“Yes, sir,” Ken said. “But aren't Mrs. 
Robbins’ friends still staying at the 
office?” 

“Fuck them," I said. “I don't care if 
you wake them up. If I'm lucky, they'll 


get pissed off and go to a hotel, and I 
won't have to pay their booze bill. Just 
bring what 1 asked for and I will be 
down in about an hour. Be ready to 
take off as soon as I get there.” 

“Yes, sir,” Ken answered. 

“Thank you,” I said and hung up 
the phone. 

Grace was standing behind me in the 
hallway, wearing a robe that had been 
ripped off from the Carlton Hotel. 1 
went back to the breakfast table and 
she followed me. She sat down and 
reached for a cup of coffee. She stared 
at me—not angry, but allowing for the 
possibility. “Why are you taking the 
boat to St. Tropez for a week by your- 
self?” she asked. 

I smiled at her. “A quarter of a mil- 
lion dollars.” 

“You're lying,” she said, her voice 
rising. “You know I have Cliff and Vic- 
tor here. I promised to take them to 
Monte Carlo on the boat today.” 

“You can get Jacques to drive you 
there. The new Seville has enough 
room for everyone,” I said. 

“What about my mother and father? 
And 1 thought I would take Adreana 
with us.” 

1 looked at her. “You know damn 
well that your mother won't get on that 
boat. She was sick as a dog the first 
time, and she said she would never get 
on it again. It’s heen three years and 
she's kept her word.” 

“You're really selfish,” she said. “I 
guess you won't even show up for 
Adreana's birthday.” 

Us two weeks away,” I said flatly. 
"Il be there.” 


It took a little more than two hours 
to make the trip from Cannes into the 
port of St. Tropez. The port captain 
moved us into a good location, in front 
of L’Escale, one of the best restaurants 
on the port, and next to John von Neu- 
mann's Baglietto, painted like a gray 
Navy corvette and one of the speediest 
yachts on the Cöte d’Azur. 

1 sat on the bench on the deck of the 
Gracara, and Cathy got me a fresh cof 
fee while Ken went down the gang- 
plank to give the port captain 50 
francs. It was a token to make sure I 
got a good spot at the port, even on 
short notice. 

The port was not crowded today. It 
was too early for the lunch crowd and 
most of the tourists were just arriving 
at the beaches. 1 lit a cigarette and went 
downstairs to the dining room to set up 
my workplace. 1 placed my typewriter 
mat and typewriter on a serving table 
that pulled out from the wall and drew 
up a dining chair that fit comfortably 
under it. Cathy had already set up the 
paper, eraser liquid and carbons. I 


plugged the typewriter into the wall 
socket—the yacht was wired for 110 
volts as well as the standard 220 volts. 
Now all I had to do was work. 

1 looked at my watch. One o'clock 
and I was hungry. Cathy came up from 
the galley and smiled at me. “Would 
you like salade Niçoise?” 

1 looked at her. She knew I didn't 
care for salad, or for vegetables for that 
matter. "What else do we have in the 
galley?" 

"Actually, nothing, Mr. Robbins," she 
said. "I was going to prepare omelettes 
for the crew. We left so quickly this 
morning, 1 didn't have time to do the 
marketing.” 

1 knew the timetable. I also knew the 
rules. The crew eats before the passen- 
gers. Owner or not. “You have your 
lunch," I said. “Then you can go off to 
the market and get the things we need. 
ТЇЇ grab a bite at L Escale.” 

“We're not upsetting your sched- 
ule?” she asked. 

1 smiled at her. “It's OK, Cathy. I'll 
be all right.” 

“Thank you, Mr. Robbins. I'll give 
you a super dinner tonight. I'll even 
bake you a chocolate cake.” 

“You're wonderful, baby,” I said, 
starting down the gangplank. 

‘The crowd was beginning to thicken 
now, but it was early July and not until 
Angnst wonld all of France be vacation- 
ing in St. Tropez. Now hustlers of every 
sort from all the other European coun- 
tries were here. 

Fritz, the owner and maitre d’, saw 
me as I stood on the sidewalk in front 
of LEscale. He waved me inside and 
placed me in a small banquette that 
leaned against the entrance aisle wall. 
“You're alone?” he asked. 

I nodded. “I've come down here to 
work.” 

He laughed. Coming to St. Tropez 
to work seemed funny. “OK, Harold, 
what would you like for lunch?” 

"Entrecóle bleu, pommes frites and a 
Heineken,” I said. 

He laughed again. “An American 
workingman's lunch,” he said, moving 
to greet his other clientele. 

Soon, a little waiter placed the beer 
and a chilled glass in front of me, with 
a small baguette and several pats of 
butter. “Bon appétit" he said. 

“Merci,” 1 said and poured my beer 
into the glass. 

A voice boomed in front of me. 
“Harold! What are you doing here? 
And alone!” 

I looked up. It was Wally, a smil- 
ing, round-faced man, with a body to 
match. He lived in the apartment 
above the restaurant and I had known 
him for years. 

“I came here to work," I answered. 

(continued on page 122) 


101 


102 


miss january’s excellent 
adventure took her from indiana to 
california—where she’s a nanny 


S HE WASN'T ALWAYS an adventurer. Growing up 


in small-town Indiana, Jami Ferrell was the shy girl 
in the last row of the classroom—the one looking 
dreamily out the window. “I was always reserved, 
even painfully shy. I didn't have any friends,” says 
Miss January. Today, a grown-up beauty of 22, she 
still speaks in a voice as soft as a little girl's. Her 
hazel eyes shy away from a stranger’s gaze. Yet 
there’s something besides shyness here, something 
that constantly defies the quiet angels of her na- 
ture. There’s a rebel in Jami, too. One day after 
graduating from high school, she went to the air- 
port in Indianapolis, near her hometown of New 
Castle. “I had never flown in a plane, never been 
outside the Midwest,” she says. Plunking down her 
Visa card, she was asked for a destination. “I chose 


o ІЙ 


Los Angeles. That sounded exciting." Soon she was 
wandering through Beverly Hills and Hollywood. 
She made friends with a few locals. “People are 
much more outgoing here, friendlier and more 
persistent than the folks back home," says Jami. 
One was too persistent. A fast-talking modeling 
agent invited Jami for an interview. Time and 
place: Sunset. The man offered Jami a deal. He 
could make her a star, he said, but first things first. 
"I stood up and left. That was the day I learned to 
be careful.” Low on money, she took a small apart- 
ment in a dangerous part of East Los Angeles. 
Then Jami spotted a newspaper ad: NANNIES WANT- 


Ер. What better job for a quiet Midwestern girl? 
She gota position as a nanny in Malibu, where Miss 
January now looks after the children of a high- 
powered, high-profile California couple. “I love my 
life here. I love the kids, too. But even this won't 
last forever,” she says, gazing at a spectacular Pacific 
sunset. “I know ГЇЇ just get restless again.” 

Whether she's seeking toy borgoins in Malibu (top left), 


acting out on intriguing winter fantasy (bottom lefi) or 
storing down her destiny (right), Jami does it in style. 


PHOTOGRAPHY BY ARNY FREYTAG 
AND STEPHEN WAYDA 


“It can be hard for me to relax among adults. | actually prefer the campany of children,” says nonny Jami, wha canfides that her two 
yaung charges are her best friends. "I dan't want a husband and family far myself, nat yet. There's still too much of the world to see.” 105 


"There's no man in my life. I'm nat good at sustaining relatianshi i i intense, but what hop- 


pens when the thrill wears aff? I've never lecrned the answer to that. There has always been another destinctian,” Jemi soya, “As for 
what comes next, | don't want fo know. | suppase there's a man out there I could settle down with, but I'm in no hurry ta find 


+ 


PLAYMATE DATA SHEET 


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BIRTH DATE: Via ee 7 EE 


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APHRODISIAC ra A eo 
CHOICE voen: Alha hhe чә sehen he йыб д. | 


/3 grat pr T bn chose that! [Z prip do LA, 


PLAYBOY’S PARTY JOKES 


Р. awnow ciassic: Two women were dressing in 
the locker room after their acrobics class when 
опе noticed that the other was pulling on a 
pair of men's briefs. “So when dia you start 
wearing men’s underwear?” the first asked 

“Ever since my husband found a strange 
pair under the bed.” 


Did you hear the Iraqis have found a new use 
for sheep? Wool. 


The physician adamantly refused to perform 
an abortion. “But when the time comes.” he 
told the pregnant teenager, “I'll deliver the ba- 
by and pass it off to a woman who's having a 
baby at the same time and tell her she had 
twins." 

But at the crucial moment, there were no 
available female patients to whom to pass the 
baby. In fact, there was only one patient—a 
priest. The doctor, undaunted, decided to pro- 
ceed with his plan. When the cleric awakened 
from the anesthetic, he was told that by some 
miracle he'd delivered a baby boy. "That was 
the cause of your stomach pains," the ph: 
cian explained. 

"The priest was overjoyed at this divine inter- 
vention and raised the boy as his own. 

Many ycars later, as the priest lay on his 
deathbed, he drew the young man to him and 
explained his miraculous delivery. "So you see, 
son,” the priest confessed, "I'm not really your 
father, I'm your mother. The bishop is your 
father.” 


What did the surfer say when a lifeguard or- 
dered him from the ocean because of a high 
bacteria count? “Yeah, right, dude. Like bacte- 
ria can count.” 


Two Las Vegas showgirls were putting on their 
makeup. One sported a huge diamond ring. 

“Connie,” the other remarked, eyeing the 
bauble, “you’re so lucky to have found the 
right guy. Where'd you meet him?" 

“We meat a bar," she replied. “It was love at 
second sight.” 

“Second sight?” 

“Yeah,” Connie replied. “The first time I saw 
him, I didn't know he was rich.” 


What's the best thing about a Japanese gang- 
ster? When he takes you for a ride, you get 
great milcage. 


A couple of English cows were lying in a 
meadow. “What do you think about this mad 
cow disease?” one said. 

“I don't bloody care,” the other replied. “I'm 
a helicopter.” 


THIS MONTH'S MOST FREQUENT SUBMISSION: “Doc, 
my dog is rcal sick,” the distraught man said, 
putting the limp animal on the examining 
table. The vet checked the pooch, then turned 
to the owner. "I'm sorry, he's not sick, he's 
dead." 

“No, he's not," the man insisted. "He's just 
sick." 
udy," the vet said, turning to his assistant, 


-bing the tabby in." 

The assistant placed a cat in front of the 
dog's nose. The cat sniffed at him, walked 
across his body and bit his tail. No response 

1 


ht hundred twenty-five." 
ht hundred twenty-five! What for?" 
“Twenty-five for my fee,” the vet replied, 
“and $800 for the cat scan.” 


7 


As ЗА 


Fed up with his wife's nagging, Peter decided 
to take charge of his life. “There are going to 
be some changes made,” he announced to her. 
“You are going to grill me a porterhouse steak, 
medium rare. Tonight I am going to the opera, 
which you don't like, with some friends and 
enjoy a night out. And guess who is going to 
lay out my tux, shine my shoes and press my 
shirt?” 

His wife stared at him for a long time. “The 
undertaker?” 


Send your jokes on postcards to Party Jokes Editor, 
PLAYBOY, 680 North Lake Shore Drive, Chicago, 
Illinois 60611, or by e-mail to johes@ ET com. 
$100 will be paid to the contributor whose submis- 
sion is selected. Sorry, jokes cannot be returned. 


A 
у 


¡e NNW UNG | 
Qi | 100 

ау | DY 
1j ШУ ANI are АМ A 


“Pm afraid this really is goodbye, my darling!” 


116 


meclarty is on the verge of a new 


| 0 | | life, minus narcotics and 


vodka. he’s learned to 


suppress the fear 


Doctor =“: 


fietion By JAY MCINERNEY 


hey've come for you at last. 
Outside your cell door, gath- 
ered like a storm. Each man. 
holds a pendant sock and in 
the sock is a steel combina- 
tion lock that he has removed 
from the locker in his own 
cell. You feel them out there, every 
predatory one of them, and still they 
wait. They have found you. Finally, 
they crowd open the cell door and pour 
in, flailing at you like nad drummers 
оп amphelamines, their cals’ eyes glow- 
ing yellow in the dark, hammering at 
the recalcitrant bones of your face and 
the tender regions of your prone car- 
cass, the soft tattoo of blows interwoven. 
with grunts of exertion. It’s the old lock- 
and-sock. You should have known. As 
you wait for the end, you think that it 
could have been worse. It has been 
worse. Christ, what they do to you some 
nights. 


In the morning, over seven- 
grain cereal and skim milk, Terri 
says, “The grass looks sick.” 

“I think you want the lawn doc- 
tor,” McClarty says. “I'm the con 
doctor.” 

“I wish you'd go back to private 
practice. I can't believe you didn't 
report that inmate who threatened 
to kill you." 

McClarty now feels guilty that he 
told Terri about this little inci- 
dent—a con named Lesko had 
made the threat after McClarty cut 
back his Valium—in the spirit of 
stoking her sexual ardor. His men- 
tion of the threat, his exploitation 
of it, has had the unintended effect 
of making it seem more real. 

“The association is supposed to 
take care of the grass," Terri says. 


They live in a community called 
Live Oaks Manor, homes with two 
to four bedrooms behind an eight- 
foot brick wall, with four tennis 
courts, a small clubhouse and a 
duck pond. In McClarty's mind it 
is Walled-In Pond, his retreat from 
the complexities of postmodern 
life. This is the way we live now— 
walled in, on cul-de-sacs in false 
communities. Bradford Arms. 
Ridgeview Farms, Tudor Crescent, 
Wedgewood Heights, Oakdale 
Manor, Olde Towne Estates—these 
capricious appellations with their 
diminutive suggestions of the ba- 
ronial, their vague Anglopastoral 
allusiveness. Terri's two-bedroom 
unit with sundeck and Jacuzzi is 
described in the literature as “con- 
temporary Georgian.” 

McClarty thinks about how, back 
in the days of pills, of Dilaudid and 
Demerol and Percodan, he didn't 
have these damn nightmares. In 
fact, he didn't have dreams. Now, 
when he's not dreaming about the 
prison, he dreams about the pills 
and also about the powders and 
the deliquescent Demerol min- 
gling in the barrel of the syringe 
with his own brilliant blood. He 
dreams that he can see it glowing 
green beneath the skin like a ra- 
dioactive isotope as it moves up the 
vein, warming everything in its 
path until it blossoms in his brain 
stem. Maybe. he thinks, he should 
go to a meeting. 

"I'm going to call this morning,” 
Terri continues, “and have them 
check the gutters while they're at 
it.” She will, too. Her remarkable 
sense of economy and organiza- 
tion, which might have seemed 
comical or even obnoxious, is 


PAINTING BY ELLIOTT GREEN 


PLAYBOY 


118 


touching to McClarty, who sees it as a 
function of her recovering-alcoholic 
battle against chaos. He admires this. 
And he likes the fact that she knows 
how to get the oil in the cars changed 
or how to get free upgrades when they 
fly to St. Thomas. Outside of the exam- 
ining room MeClarty still feels himself 
lacking competence and will 

She kisses his widow's peak on her 
way out and reminds him about dinner 
with the Clausens, whoever they might 
be, God bless them and their tchotch- 
kes. Perversely, McClarty actually likes 
this instant new life. Just subtract nar- 
cotics and vodka and stir. He feels like a 
character actor who gets a cameo in a 
sitcom and then finds himself written 
into the series as a regular, He moved 
to this Southeastern city less than a 
year ago, after graduating from rehab, 
and lived in an apartment without fur- 
niture until he moved in with Terri. 

McClarty met her at a Mexican 
restaurant three months ago and was 
charmed by her air of independence 
and unshakable self-assurance. She 
leaned across the bar and said, “Fresh 
jalapeños are a lot better. They have 
them if you ask, but you have to ask.” 
She waved her peach-colored nails at 
the bartender. “Carlos, bring the gen- 
teman some fresh peppers.” Then she 
turned back to her conversation with 
a girlfriend, her mission apparently 
complete. 

A few minutes later, sipping his Per- 
rier, McClarty couldn't help overhear- 
ing her say to her girlfriend, “Ask him 
before you go down on him, silly. Not 
after.” 

McClarty admires Terri's ruthless 
efficiency. Basically she has it all wired. 
She owns a clothing store, drives an Ac- 
ura, has breasts shaped like mangoes 
around implanted cores of saline. Not 
silicone, she announced virtuously, the 
first night he touched them. If you ask 
her she can review for you the merits of 
the top plastic surgeons in town. “Dr. 
Milton's really lost it,” she'll say. “Since 
he started fucking his secretary and go- 
ing to Aspen his brow lifts have become 
scary. He cuts way too much and makes 
everybody look frightened or sur- 
prised.” At 40, with his own history of 
psychological reconstruction, McClarty 
doesn't hold a few nips and tucks 
against a girl. Particularly when the re- 
sults arc so exceptionally pleasing to 
the eye. 

“You're a doctor?” Instead of saying 
yes, but just barely, he nodded. As she 
masticated a corn chip that first night, 
her chin and her breasts seemed to rise 
on the swell of this information. Check- 
ing her out when he first sat down, 
Dr. Kevin McClarty thought that the 
blonde on the next stool looked like 
someone who would be dating a pro 


athlete or a guy with a new Ferrari who 
owned a chain of fitness centers. She 
was almost certainly a little too brassy 
and provocative to be the consort of 
a doctor, which was one of the things 
that excited Kevin about her. Making 
love to her, he felt simultaneously 
that he was both slumming and sleep- 
ing above his economic station. Best of 
all, she was in the program, too. When 
he heard her order a virgin margarita, 
he decided to go for it. He moved in 
with her a week after the jalapenos. 


The uniformed guard says, “Good 
morning, Dr. McClarty,” as the doctor 
drives out past the gate on his way to 
work. After all these years he still gets a 
kick out of hearing the honorific at- 
tached to his own name. He grew up 
even more in awe of doctors than most 
mortals because his mother, a nurse, 
told him that his father was one, 
though she refused all further en- 
treaties for information. Raised in the 
bottom half of a narrow, chilly duplex 
in Evanston, Illinois, he still doesn't 
quite believe in the reality of this new 
life—the sunshine, the walled-in com- 
munity, the smiling guard who calls 
him Dr. McClarty. Perversely, he be- 
lieves in the dream, which is far more 
realistic than all this sunshine and im- 
perturbable aluminum siding. He 
doesn't tell that to Terri, though. He 
never tells her about the dreams. 

Driving to his office, he thinks about 
Terri's breasts. They're splendid, of 
course. But he finds it curious that she 
will tell nearly anybody that they are 
surgically, as we say, enhanced. Last 
time he was in the dating pool, back in 
the Pleistocene era, he encountered 
nothing but natural mammary glands. 
Then he got married and ten years lat- 
er, he's back in circulation and every 
woman he meets has gorgeous tits but 
whenever he reaches for them he 
hears: “Maybe I should mention that, 
they're, you know . . .” and inevitably, 
later: “Listen, you're a doctor. Do you 
think, I mean, there's been a lot of, 
like, negative, like, publicity and stuff.” 
It got so he stopped saying he was a 
doctor, he imagines it is a little like be- 
ing rich or famous—you don't know 
whether they are fucking you for your- 
self or to get an opinion on this weird 
lump under the arm, right here, sec? 
Well, actually you do know. Even afier 
all the years of medical school and all 
the sleepless hours of his internship, he 
didn’t really believe he was a doctor. 
He felt like a pretender, though he 
eventually discovered that he felt like 
less of a pretender on 50 milligrams of 
Seconal. 

‘The weather, according to the radio, 
is hot and hotting up. McClarty has the 


climate control at 68, windows up. 
High 95 to 98 outside. Which is about 
as predictable as Stairway to Heaven on 
Rock 101, the station that plays all 
Stairway, only Stairway. 24 hours a day. 
A song that one of the junkies in rehab 
insisted was about dope, but every- 
thing is about dope to a junkie in re- 
hab. After a lifetime in Chicago, he 
likes the hot summers and the temper- 
ate winters down here. And he likes the 
American suburban sprawl of franchis- 
es and housing developments with an 
affection all the greater for being self- 
conscious and haunted by irony. As a 
bright, fatherless child he had always 
felt alien and isolated. Later, as a doc- 
tor, he felt even further removed from 
the general populace (it's like being a 
cop), an alienation enhanced when he 
also became a drug addict and de facto 
criminal. He wanted to be part of the 
stream, an unconscious member of the 
larger community, but all the mor- 
phinc in the pharmacy failed to pro- 
duce the desired result. When he had 
first come out of rchab, after years of 
escalating numbness, the sight of a 
Burger King or a familiar television 
show could bring him to tears. The 
"please don't squeeze the Charmin” ad 
had seemed like a cheerful touchstone 
of the communal here and now, had 
made him feel, for the first time, like a 
real American. 

He turns into the drive marked MID- 
STATE CORRECTION FACILITY. It's not an 
accident that you can't see the facility 
from the road. There are homes worth 
half a million dollars within a quarter 
mile of this place. Construction was dis- 
creet. The state was happy to skip the 
expense of a new prison and board its 
high-security criminals with the corpo- 
ration that employs Dr. Kevin McClar- 
ty. He drives up the long drive into the 
bottomland, past the long cast flank of 
the prison with its chain-link fence and 
triple coils of concertina wire. 

Dr. McClarty signs in. These guards, 
too, greet him by name and title, from 
behind bulletproof plexi. Guards are 
at both ends of his short commute. 
Through the plexi he sees the blown- 
up photo of a Nike Air sneaker that a 
visitor just happened to be wearing 
when he hit the metal detector, with 
the sole sliced open to show a .25-cal- 
iber Beretta nesting snug as a fetus in 
the exposed cavity. Hey, it must have 
come from the factory that way, man, 
like those screws and syringes and shit 
that got inside Pepsi cans. I ain't never 
seen that piece before. What is that 
shit, a .25? I wouldn't be caught dead 
with no fucking .25, man. You can't 
stop a roach with that fucking popgun. 

McClarty is buzzed inside the first 
door, and then, after it closes behind 

(continued on page 144) 


Good thing surrealist painter Salvador Dali did not live by 
limp clocks alone. In 1974 рі лувоү embarked on a collabo- 
ration with the great artist, dispatching photographer Pom- 
рео Posar to Dali's Mediterranean villa. There the two men 


BIL AN BOY CA CDERM 


got to work—Dali assembling dreamlike sets from sketches 
he'd prepared, Poser filling the tableaux with his naked trav- 
eling companions. The final portfolio appeared in the Christ- 
mas issue, and was hot enough to melt your stopwatch. 


119 


ew Year’s Eve 1996 is fast approaching, and it’s party 

time at your place. The caterer has been hired, the 

bar is stocked and the invitations are out. But what 

about entertainment? That buddy who turns Kramer 

after a few flutes of champagne may be good for a 
laugh, but you'll need more than a clown to keep the ener- 
gy boosted past midnight. To help you host a bash to re- 
member, we have the perfect gadgets—they'll add life to 
your party and free you up to have fun, too. The Sidebar 
Beverage System (pictured far left) can serve as your elec- 
tronic bartender, dispensing up to five libations—straight 
or mixed—with the press of a backlit button, by Thomas 
Electronics Corp. (about $500). Next to the Sidebar is 
Olympus' Stylus Zoom 105DLX (about $460), a weather- 
proof 35mm automatic camera vith a 38mm-to-105mm 
lens and an optional remote control (about $30) that lets 
you get in on the pictures or take the ultimate candid par- 


DARTY 


five great gadgets 
for hosting an 


electrifying 


new year's bash 


ty shots. To keep the music going all night long, there's 
Fisher's 150-disc CD changer (about $400) with two conve- 
nient party features that allow you to load a CD while an- 
other is playing and program biocks of tunes by categories 
(i.e., rock, rap, jazz), mood or occasion. Atop the CD chang- 
er is Panasonic's new PV-L606 Palmcorder ($1099), a com- 
pact VHS model with motion sensor and a 3.2-inch color 
Yiewscreen. Set up this baby in the comer of the room and 
it will "sense" the action and serve as the evening's cine- 
matographer. Finally, Clarion’s Party Jockey will definitely 
attract the closet crooners. This portable karaoke machine 
uses palm-size ROM music cards that can store 200 songs 
with sing-along lyrics and graphics. Connect it to your 
television, pop in Born to Be Wild and watch your friends 
fight for the mike. The Party Jockey can also stand alone, 
thanks to two speakers and songbooks. Price: about $1700, 
plus $300 to $500 each for the ROM cards. Happy New Year! 


Toys 


NININ A 
RIAL 


PLAYBOY 


122 


ӘТ. TRODEL (continue from page 100 


She spent the days windsurfing in the nude, wear- 
ing her bikini only when she gave lessons. 


"There's too much going on at Le Can- 
net. I have to be alone.” 

Wally nodded. “It’s because of Adre- 
ana's birthday party, no? People are 
coming in. I received my invitation 
yesterday.” 

“Are you coming?” I asked. 

“Are you?” he laughed. 

“OF course ГЇЇ be there,” I said. “It’s 
my daughter.” 

“I will certainly be there. My wife is 
coming from Moscow with my daugh- 
ter. I thought it would be fun for 
them.” 

Wally was an interesting man. From 
what I had heard, he had been in the 
CIA in Russia when he met his wife. Af- 
ter he married her, he resigned and 
moved to St. Tropez. They then had a 
baby, but his wife and baby moved back 
to Russia because his wife did not like 
France. She visited him on holidays 
and vacations so that he could stay 
in touch with his daughter. Of course, 
she might also be making sure that 
their daughter received her inheri- 
tance. Wally was a rich man. 


A very attractive lady joined him in 
the small aisle. She smiled at me. I 
smiled back. Wally noticed and intro- 
duced us. “Dominique,” he said. “I'd 
like you to meet the American novelist 
Harold Robbins.” He then turned to 
me. “Harold,” he said. “I would like for 
you to mect Baronne de Guillame of 
Paris.” 

I tried to stand up, which was impos- 
sible because of the banquette. “Ma- 
dame la Baronne, my pleasure.” 

She smiled. “Please be seated, Mr- 
Robbins. The name is Dominique, to 
friends. And I hope we will be friends. 
I have read several of your novels and 
enjoyed them.” 

“Thank you,” I said. 

Fritz gestured to Wally, who turned 
to her. “Our table is ready, Domi- 
nique.” Then to me: “We'll meet soon.” 

“Tm looking forward to it,” I said. I 
watched them as they went up the aisle. 
She had a great ass and long legs. Too 
tall to be French, I thought. I won- 
dered where she was manufactured. 
Then the little waiter brought my food 
and I ate quickly. While I was having 
my coffee, I looked across at Wally's 
table. His back was toward me, but her 
eyes were on me. I had to work. Damn. 

I began as soon as I finished lunch. It 
was a comfortable setup. Avis, my stew- 
ardess, knew my working habits. While 


I was at lunch, she had set up a box of 
papers for me. One white sheet with 
four onionskin carbons behind. When 
I finished the story, I would send the 
original and two sets of carbons to the 
States. Two sets were for my files. 

The story began to move immediate- 
ly. I had thought a long time about a se- 
quel to the television miniseries of 79 
Park Avenue. It would be about what 
happened when Marja, the main char- 
acter, came out of prison. The conflict 
would be in how to keep her old life 
from destroying her new life. But it 
wouldn't be that simple. She wouldn't 
be able to get away from where she had 
been, no matter how hard she tried. It 
was going to become impossible for her 
to make a life for herself and Michelle, 
her beloved daughter. 

By seven o'clock that evening, I had 
finished nearly all of the opening act. I 
stretched and went up onto the deck. 
‘Twilight was just beginning to fall. Avis 
brought a Glenmorangie on the rocks 
before I had a chance to sit down. I 
looked out onto the street. 

The crowd was just beginning to re- 
turn from the beach. The tourists were 
looking into the storefront windows, 
checking the restaurants. Those with 
children were buying ice cream or can- 
dy. They usually did not look up at the 
decks along the quay, not unless they 
had heard that there was a celebri- 
ty, singer or football player on one of 
the boats. 

“Harold,” a young voice called from 
the bottom of the gangplank. 

I squinted to sec who it was. “Leslie!” 

“May I come aboard?" If you want 
to board a ship, you have to ask for 
permission. 

I laughed. “Of course, Leslie." 

She came up the gangplank, stood 
next to me and leaned down to kiss my 
cheek. “How are you, Harold?” she 
asked. "I haven't seen you down here 
for quite a while.” 

“Ive been jammed up," 1 said. 
"Come, sit dovn. What would you like 
to drink?” 

“Vodka tonic,” she said, as I pressed 
the button to call Avis. 

Avis came up. She knew Leslie. 
"Vodka tonic," she said, smiling. 

Leslie nodded. "Thank you, Avis." 
She turned back to me. "Are Grace and 
Adreana here with you?” 

"No." I answered. "They're at Le 
Cannet. I came over to work for a 
week." 


Leslie looked puzzled. "I never 
heard of anyone coming to St. Tropez 
to work." 

l waited until Avis put down the 
drink in front of Leslie. "There are just. 
too many people at the villa. People are 
staying in the office. I had no place to 
work." 

Leslie smiled and took a sip of her 
drink. “Anyway, I am happy that you 
are here. I've been wondering what 
you have been doing.” 

“Nothing important,” I answered, 
looking at her. She was 19, small, 
maybe 5”, with very long blonde hair, 
blue eyes, and skin almost black from 
the sun. She spent the days wind- 
surfing in the nude, wearing her bikini 
only when she gave lessons. She had 
come from Australia a year before with 
her boyfriend, and he had left her 
broke on the beach soon after. As we 
backed into St. Tropez to dock, at just 
about that time, she caught one of the 
ropes from Anton and tied it to the 
stanchion. And now she was here every 
time we came in to dock. 

“Want to have dinner?” I asked. 

“I'm not dressed,” she answered. 

“You're bikinicd,” 1 said, laughing. 
“We're eating on the boat. You don’t 
have to change.” 

Cathy served a simple dinner: Cae- 
sar salad, roast chicken with pan-roast- 
ed potatoes and the lovely chocolate 
cake that she had promised. Leslie are 
as if food were going out of style. I 
knew she had not eaten well for a 
while. She had a second serving of cake 
her coffee, and smiled at me shy- 
ly. “I've pigged out, but I really need- 
ed it.” 

“I know,” I said. “But I'm glad you 
came to dinner. I don't like cating 
alone.” 

“You're sweet, Harold,” she said. 
“May I have another vodka tonic?” 

“No problem,” I answered and gave 
the order to Avis as she cleared the 
table. I looked down at the quay. It was 
night now and the street performers 
and buskers were in full swing. A small 
crowd had gathered around cach of 
them. The favorite was the young man 
who blew fire from his pursed lips. 

“I know him,” Leslie said as she 
sipped her drink. "He's from Austra- 
lia, too.” 

“Were you with him?” I asked 

“No way,” she said. “He has syphilis. 
He's had it since he was in Sydney." 

"How do you know?" 

“He was one of seven of us that came 
here,” she said. “We found out when 
his girlfriend died in the clinic here.” 

“Where are the rest of your friends?” 

“Gone,” she said. “I'm the only one 
who stayed. For a windsurfer, this is the 
best place in Europe to be.” 

“Don't you ever want to go home?” 


very good, Santa comes back!” 


“When you're very, 


123 


PLAYBOY 


124 


"I have nothing there,” she said. “My 
father took off when I was a kid. My 
mother found another man, who was 
always trying to get into my knick- 
ers. Finally, I took off with Charles and 
the gang. After we got here, Charles 
got the hots for some French girl and 
took off.” 

“Why is the fire-breather still here?” 
Г asked. 

“French doctors cleared him for 
treatments at the clinic. Besides, Sam 
believes the fire will burn the syphilis 
out of his system. But he's going. He's 
as skinny as a stick. In Sydney he 
weighed almost 200 pounds.” 

l shook my head. "I'm sorry for 
him." I gave her a 100 franc note. 
“Give it to him.” 

She glanced at me, then turned and 
went down the gangplank. I watched 
her give him the money. She spoke to 
him for a few moments. He looked up 
and waved his hand to me. I waved. 
Leslie came back up the gangplank. 
*He thanked you very much," she said. 

“It's OK," I said. 

“May I have another vodka tonic?" 

"You'll be smashed,” I said. 

“I don't care. Whenever I talk to 
Sam, I get depressed." 

"You can have a drink," I said, press- 
ing the service button again. 

Avis brought the vodka tonic be- 
fore I could ask. “Thank you,” I said 
to her. I asked Leslie, “Where are you 
staying?” 

“I have a bunk at the hostel,” she 
said. “It’s nice and clean and they have 
showers. It costs only five francs a 
night.” 

“That's not bad,” I said. I opened my 
wallet and gave her 500 francs. 

“That's too much,” she said. “If I 
went into the hostel with this much 
money, someone would steal it.” She 
thought for a moment. “Will you be 
here for a week?” 

“I think so,” I said. 

“Then maybe you could give me 50 
or 100 francs a day. That would be 
better.” 

“OK,” I said. She gave me back the 
500 franc note and I gave her a 100 
franc note. 

"Mr. Robbins!” A woman's voice 
came up from the quay. 

I looked down. "Madame la Ba- 
ronne," I said, standing up. 

"May I come aboard?" she asked. 

"Of course,” I answered. 

She came aboard. She was even taller 
than I had originally thought. Maybe 
an inch or two taller than I am. "Wel- 
come aboard." 

She smiled at me and then looked 
over at Leslie. "Your daughter?" she 
asked. 

I laughed. "No, she is a friend. She 
teaches windsurfing.” I gestured to 


Leslie. “Leslie, may I present the Ba- 
ronne de Guillame.” 

Leslie held out her hand. “I am hap- 
py to meet you, Madame Baronne." 

Dominique shook Leslie's hand. 
French style, once up, once down. "I 
am also happy to meet you, Leslie." 

I turned to Dominique. “Please sit 
and have a drink with us. What would 
you enjoy?" 

"Champagne," Dominique replied. 
"Everything else makes me drunk and 
silly." 

it pressed the button. “A bottle of 
champagne,” I told Avis, and then I 
turned back to Dominique. “Have you 
had a nice dinner?" 

"As usual. L'Escale's food is good but 
boring. Wally takes dinner there every 
night.” Avis returned and set a bucket 
with ice on the table and a champagne 
glass in front of each person. She then 
popped the cork with expertise and 
filled our glasses. Dominique tasted 
hers as she watched Avis return to the 
cabin. “She is a pretty girl,” she said. 

Leslie laughed. “If you think she’s 
pretty, you should see Cathy, the cook. 
Harold’s boat crew is famous for hav- 
ing the most beautiful girls in the south 
of France.” 

Dominique looked at me. “Do you 
hire girls because they're pretty or be- 
cause they are competent?" 

“I hire them for the job," 1 said 
*Pretty is a bonus." 

Dominique looked at Leslie. "And 
isn't this one too young to be your 
petite amie?” 

I reached for Leslie's hand. She was 
clearly uncomfortable. Her world was 
young and simple, not like Domi- 
nique's. “She is beautiful, of course, 
and I would not be unhappy if she 
were my petile amie. But she is attached 
to a very bright young man.” 

Leslie put down her drink. “But I 
am also a bit late. I promised to meet 
my friends at the disco.” 

I looked at her as she stood up. 
“Come see me tomorrow?” I asked. 

She kissed my cheek. “I'll be here.” 
She then turned to Dominique. “Bon- 
soir, Madame. I am sorry that you did 
not enjoy your dinner. I had a lovely 
time on the Gracara with Harold,” she 
said and scooted off the boat. 

I said to Dominique, “You are not 
very nice.” 

“I said nothing," she said, filling her 
glass. 

“She is a sweet child in a strange 
world and you are a bitch.” 

“Do you want me to get off the 
boat?” she asked. 

“You can suit yourself,” 1 said to 
her. “I don’t like guests of mine to feel 
uncomfortable.” 

She took another glass of cham- 
pagne before speaking. “You're angry,” 


she said. “Would you like to spank me? 
I have no panties on under my dress. 
You can take me down to your cabin. 
I'm sure you have a leather belt. And it 
will make you feel better.” 

I laughed. “And would it make you 
feel better?” 

She smiled seductively. “I'd love it.” 

I stared at her for a moment. She 
was beautiful and intriguing, but I was 
here to work. I smiled and shrugged. 
“Not tonight, Dominique.” 

She Jaughed and finished her cham- 
pagne. “There will be another time.” 
She rose, kissed my cheek and walked 
across the deck and down the gang- 
plank. She turned and gestured with 
her hand as she disappeared into the 
crowd. 

I lit a cigarette. Avis came on deck. 
"Is it all right to clear?" 

“Of course,” I said. Then I thought 
fora moment. “Wake me at seven-thir- 
ty,” I said. “I'll have breakfast at eight, 
and ГЇЇ get to work as soon as Гуе 
eaten.” 


It was after nine before I got to the 
point in the script where Marja comes 
out of jail and is met at the prison gates 
by the attorney who arranged her pa- 
role. I had already started my second 
pack of Lucky Strikes. I leaned back 
and stared at the pages. It felt like the 
story was moving, and that’s what a 
writer always wants to feel. But you 
never know if it's good or bad. 

I heard a voice from the deck steps. 
“Harold?” 

I turned and looked up to the upper 
salon. Dominique's face peered down 
the steps. "I am sorry to intrude, but I 
would like to invite you to lunch.” 

I stared at her. “I’m working.” 

“Work or not, you have to eat,” she 
said. “I have a car and a reservation at 
my favorite restaurant on the hill be- 
hind the village.” 

“No, thank you,” I said, firmly. “I’m 
afraid it will take too much time.” 

“Ninety minutes here and back, I 
promise. The patron used to be my 
chef in Paris. I have already ordered 
the menu,” she said. 

"I don't know,” I said. “I am on a 
deadline.” 

“Tl be back at one o'clock,” she said. 
“If you don't come there will be noth- 
ing lost.” Then she disappeared. 

J tapped out another cigarette. Ken 
appeared and flipped open his Zippo. 
“Thank you,” I said. 

He had a smile on his face. “Are you 
going with the baroness?” 

“Not baroness, that's English. The 
French is baronne," I said. 

"The French always have their own 
way of doing things," he said. "But I 

(continued on page 196) 


revised: LISA WINTERS 


the shy playmate we can't forget 


PLAYBOY 


ENTERTAINMENT FOR MEN 


THIRD ANNIVERSARY ISSUE 


Lisa had never pased before she appeared in PLAYBOY. "Ta this day, men still ask me abaut her,” Yeager says. “They remember her pure, 
flawless, innocent beauty." That's haw readers viewed Lisa in 1957, as well: She was the easy winner of Playmate af the Year hanors. 


HOTOGRAPHER Bunny Yeager was shopping in downtown Miami when she spotted Lisa Winters boarding a bus. “I re- 
turned to Flagler Street for the next several days hoping to run into her. She was 19 years old and very shy.” Forty 
years after her December 1956 appearance, Lisa still is shy. When we called on her at her Texas home, she was sur- 
prised. "It's ridiculous that anyone would still be interested in me. It's a time past.” That's why we take photographs. 


125 


PHOTOGRAPHY BY BUNNY YEAGER 


Despite her reserve, Lisa revealed personal details to readers lang before the Playmate Data Sheet became a standard feature. Along 
with her measurements (35"-23"-351], height (52") and weight (106 pounds), she shared her likes (love poems, pretty shoes, chocalate 
ice cream and vacations) and a dislike (pettiness). She also caught the attentian of Hellywaod, but it wasn't an option she chase to pursue. 


7 Р 


our panel of experts 


Thomas Szasz, M.D. 
Professor of Psychiatry Emeritus, 
State University of New York 


I 


am pessimistic about the pos- 
sibility of stopping the war on 
drugs. The American people 
and their elected representa- 
tives support this crusade. The 
media address the subject in a 
language that precludes ratio- 
nal debate: Crimes related to 
drug prohibition are systemati- 
cally described as “drug-relat- 
ed.” Furthermore, most people 
seem to be deeply—almost reli- 
giously—committed to a med- 
icalized view of life. Few take se- 
riously the proposition that just as it is 
not the government's business what 
ideas a person puts into his head, so it 
is also not its business what substances 
he puts into his body. 

Nowadays. everyone professes a love 
of autonomy. But the term autonomy 
no longer means that we have a right 
to, and a responsibility for, our bodies, 
minds and selves. Instead, it means 
that we have “constitutional rights” the 
framers never dreamt of, such as a 
right to abortion, affirmative action, 
health care and physician-assisted sui- 
cide. Although the right to drugs, and 
to suicide, (concluded on page 190) 


argue: 


Kurt Schmoke 
Mayor, 
City of Baltimore 


S 


ome drug policy reformers 
speak of the need for decrimi- 
nalization. Others speak of le- 
galization. The term 1 prefer is 
medicalization, because I be- 
lieve it captures the most ratio- 
nal, the most balanced and ulti- 
mately the most humane 
approach to the staggering 
problem of drug abuse in this 
nation. 

The medicalization approach 
recognizes that drug addiction 
is a disease, as the American 
Medical Association has stated, and 
that it therefore must be treated pri- 
marily as a public health problem, not 
as a law enforcement problem. This is 
the opposite of our current drug con- 
trol strategy. which I am convinced has 
been a costly failure. 

To implement a medicalization mod- 
el, we need to reallocate the money the 
federal government spends on the war 
оп drugs, which some estimates put as 
high as $15 billion a year. Currently, 
two thirds of these funds are spent on 
criminal justice and interdiction, and 
only one third on treatment and pre- 
vention. These (continued on page 190) 


| til 
ILLUSTRATION BY JOHN THOMPSON | і 


= m Teg 


| 
|! 


why it makes sense to decriminalize 


M. Joycelyn Elders, M.D. 
Former U.S. 
Surgeon General 


n December 1993, following a 

speech at the National Press 

Club in Washington, D.C., I 
r was asked if I felt the legali- 
zation of drugs would reduce 
crime. I responded that I did 
not know the implications of le- 
galization or decriminalization, 
but I thought that it should be 
studied. I never had so much 
rain fall on me in my life. How- 
ever, I have always believed 
that when a problem for which 
we do not have answers pre- 
sents itself, we should study the ques- 
tion to try to find some. 

In 1982, armed with what turned 
out to be hundreds of billions of our 
federal and state tax dollars, President 
Be an reignited our 80-year-old “war 

rugs.” Here we are, 14 years after 
de beginning of this very protracted 
and expensive war, with many casual- 
ties and still no treaty signed. 

© We are not drug-free—just less 
free, according to the ACLU. 

* Uncle Sam is the world's fattest 
Jailer, with more than 1.5 million of our 
own Citizens incarcerated in state and 
federal prisons (continued on page 191) 


drugs—and how we should reallocate the funds we are wasting now 


William F. Buckley Jr. 
Editor at Large, 


National Review 

he question before the house 
is how, if we decriminalized 
I drugs, might we use the money 
= now being spent to detect, in- 
terdict, prosecute and punish 
drug users? We Tories always 
permit ourselves a little smile 
when asked, “How else would 
you use the money?” The 
planted axiom is that money 
once public should always stay 
public, so that if you yank back 
the roughly $35 billion spent 
yearly on drug-related law en- 
forcement you need to find some pub- 
lic use for it. Build another Grand 
Canyon! Offer free Norplant to all 
women of child-bearing age in the 
Third World! Enough—we are talking 
about $133 per living American. and a 
safe assumption is that such a little 
bonus could fruitfully be spent accord- 

ing to each citizen's own lights. 

But clearly we would wish to appro- 
priate the funds necessary to train doc- 
tors and technicians in the achingly 
slow and uncertain process of reha- 
bilitation. I have been to one center, 
Phoenix House Foundation, devoted 
to this end, (continued on page 192) 


Ethan Nadelmann 
Director, 
the Lindesmith Center 


I 


magine a drug policy that starts 
by acknowledging the obvious: 
that drugs are here to stay, and 
; that we have no choice but to 
learn how to live with them so 
that they cause the least po: 
ble harm. Imagine a drug po 
cy that sets out to reduce the 
negative consequences of both 
drug use and our drug prohibi- 
tion policies. Imagine a drug 
policy based not on the fear, 
prejudice and ignorance that 
drive our current approach 
but, rather, on common sense, science, 
public health and human rights. Imag- 
ine all that and one has the ingredients 
of a viable drug policy either within 
our current drug prohibition regime 
or in a nonprohibitionist. regulatory: 
regime that many favor as the optimal 
long-term solution. 

The debate over drug policy, both 
nationally and internationally, has pro- 
gressed substantially since the more 
polarized disputes of the late Eight- 
les and early Nineties between drug 
legalization and punitive prohibi- 
tion. There is now a growing drug pol- 
icy reform (continued on page 193) 


Arnold Trebach 
President, 
the Drug Policy Foundation 


I 


propose two major paths of ac- 
tion for the beginning of the 
millennium: (1) experimenta- 
tion with new models of con- 
trolling drug abuse within a 
legal system, and (2) directly 
confronting major social prob- 
lems now partly ignored in or- 
der to fight the drug war. 

The advent of legalized 
drugs must not be viewed as 
surrender. Rather, it isa call for 
the development ofa new, gen- 
tler system of control, a system 
that relies primarily on nongovern- 
mental initiatives, on social, religious 
and cultural forces. 

I envision a new system that would 
give each state the power to set the le- 
gal rules within its borders. as is now 
the case with alcohol. It is quite possi- 
ble that many states would place alco- 
hol, tobacco and currently illegal drugs 
within roughly the same legal frame- 
work. Thus, in many states, adults 
would be eligible simply to buy the for- 
merly illegal drugs, as they now buy al- 
cohol and tobacco. At the same time, 
we would thereby recognize that the 
dynamics of (continued on page 194) 


WASHINGTON ч 
FAMILY VALUES 

Slipping in political muck, biparti- 
san architects of family-values 
campaigns emerged with feet of 
clay. First the Star caught Clinton 
advisor Dick Morris (top far right, 
with pissed-off wife Eileen McGann) wocing call girl Sherry Rowlands (above); 
then allegations of a mistress and six-year-old love child surfaced. Morris’ reward: 
A $25 million book deal. Next, the Enquirer fingered Dole strategist Roger Stone 
and wife Nikki (below right) as secret swingers. When Stone denied it, the tabloid 
produced a photograph and a canceled check. 


TOP DOLE AIDE 
'GROUP-SEY RI 


POLITICS MAKES STRANGE BEDFELLOWS 
Can't charge these candidates with hypocrisy: Jes- 
si Winchester (left), who worked at Carson City’s 
Moonlight Bunny Ranch brothel, sought a Nevada 
congressional seat on the Democratic ticket. Her 
slogan: “Vote for Jessi or I'll tell your wife!" In San 
Diego, dominatrix Mistress Madi- 

Ma 

IVA 


son ran for Congress under the 
banner of Ross Perot's Reform 
> Party. In Palm Springs, drag 
queen Kitty Cole—an im- 
pressive 6'5" before don- 
ning his/her spike 
» heels—ran for may- 
or. (All three lost. 
So much for truth 
in politics.) 


^ 


so long to the tattling 
tarts, carnal campaign- 
ers and—ahem—family 
values that made 1996 


a very lewd year 


CHRISTIAN FAMILY VALUES 
In the Seattle suburb of Federal Way, 
Christian Life Prep School administra- 
tor Bob Willey fired teacher David 
Toman when he and Mrs. T. had a son 
7% months after wedding. School 
officials suspect premarital sex. Below, 
the family pickets the school. 


WHO SAYS 
YELTSIN IS LOSING 
HIS GRIP? 
Boris Yeltsin, a grad of the Bob 
Packwood School of Social 
Graces, startles a Kremlin sec- 
retary with a playful grope. 


DENNIS THE MENACE 
Professionally outrageous Chi- 
cago Bull Dennis Rodman 


[тү от bares all in his salty 
Anna Eriksson, a Е A 
model for Playboy Mera Be 


Newsstand Spe- 
cials (right), vows 
that she will wed 
Lyle Menendez. 
Gives a whole 
new meaning to 
the term shotgun 
wedding. 


GAME, SET AND 

SNATCH AT WIMBLEDON 

Melissa Johnson—a true tennis bufí—salutes ap- 
preciative Wimbledon contestants Richard Krajicek 


(left) and MaliVai Washington. 


DENNIS THE 
MENACE II 

Telling the press he was get- 
ting married. a cross-dress- 
ing Rodman showed up in 
bridal attire to flog his book 
in Manhattan. It worked, too: 
Bad made best- 
seller lists. 


BROADS ABROAD, PART ONE 

In Europe, where nudity is no big deal, 
American beauties bare more. Here's Cindy 
Crawford in the French edition of Photo. 


smooch lands 1st-grader 


in hot water, headlines Ж 


RUNAWAY 

SCHOOL BUSS 
Johnathan Prevette, 
six, was suspended 
from school for kissing 
a classmate. That 
whirring sound is Nor- 
man Rockwell spin- 
ning in his grave. 


FAMILY VALUES 
Princess Stéphanie filed for 
divorce when hubby Daniel 
Ducruet was photographed 
fooling around with dancer 
Fili Houteman, a.k.a. Miss 
Nude Belgium (right). 


FOR ROYALS AND THEIR PALS 


attention, chuck, di, andy, fergie, edward, sophie, camillo, lilibet and phil: 


DW mom, 35, tall, busty blonde, for- 
mer kindergarten teacher enjoying 
generous divorce settlement, seeks 
military man with no ambitions їп 
publishing. Love steamy letters, 
charity work. Can provide sons. 


REDHEAD, 37, modestly plump, 
ISO S/DM with comfortable salary 
and impeccable credit. I'm a Libra 
who enjoys writing children’s books, 
beach getaways, skiing, champagne 
and having my toes sucked. 


DWM, 36, Falklands war hero, goofy 
grin, obsessed with golf, enjoy bur- 
gers, baked beans, R-rated film stars. 
Applicants must be prepared to get 
on well with other women in life: ex- 
wife, daughters, former girlfriends 


SWM, former Royal Marine, en- 
gaged to be engaged, looking to sow 
wild cats. Dapper $2, self-made 
businessman who enjoys seafood, 
Mars bars, theater, pumps and 
circumstance. 


PRINCE OF A GUY: DWM, 48. 
Norman-Celtic extraction, good. 
teeth, independently wealthy, well 
mannered but not above deliciously 
naughty phone fantasies. Nanny 
skills a plus. 


DISTINGUISHED PENSIONERS, 
comfortable on the dole but ready to 
break loose. She: 70, loves racing, 
corgis, defe the faith. He: 75, 
Navy man, discreetly roving сус. 
London area. 


DWF aging gracefully as she waits 
on one true love to clear up sticky 
situation ISO S/DM for dalliance. 
Absolutely no phone calls. 


TO ERR IS 
HUMAN, TO 
SOLICIT DIVINE 
Happy in her work: In 
Las Vegas, Hugh 
Grant's pal Divine 
Brown was busted on 
prostitution charges. 


SWF seeks short-term romance to | 
spark roomie into declaring inten- | 
tions. Experience in public relations, 
potting sheds. 


GARGOYLES’ 
GAL 

Here’s how rising 
porn star Shayla 
LaVeaux looks 
minus gargoyles 
(See Video, Octo- 
ber 1996). 


WHO KISSED J.R.? 
They did dance atop the bar at 

the Greenwich Village after-hours 

joint Hogs & Heifers, but the jury 
is out on whether Julia Roberts and 
barmaid Margaret Emery actually soul- 
kissed for “30 to 
50 seconds.” 


m "DAD I 


ТИВ ICAR EN 


THE SEXIST WHO STOLE CHRISTMAS 
The Church of Scotland bumped God Rest Ye 
Merry Gentlemen as sexist and obscure (does 
а comma follow "ye" or “merry”?). 


ANNA NICOLE 
BLOWOUT 


easy to persuade a 
Texan that less 
is more. 


Ms. Smith had a little acci- 
dent with her breast im- 
plants. Seerus like only yes- 
terday she was insisting they 
were real. But it isn’t 


ы ЫЫ». 
PAVAROTTI FAMILY VALUES 
Shots of Luciano Pavarotti and aide Nicoletta Mantovani frolicking 
in Barbados (above) helped end his 35-year marriage. (Pix of the 
tenor in a hotel room with an Italian actress irked Nicki, too.) 


DENNIS THE 
MENACE Ш 
The Worm says he 
wants to play his last 
NBA game in the 
nude. Still, the trad- 
ing-card company 
says that's a shadow 
you see, not D.R. let- 
ting it all hang out. 


IT'S A DUMMY, DUMMY! 

Screw suggests that aliens brainwashed Bob 
Guceione and made him their sex slave. How 
else to explain the Penthouse chief hyping shots 
of a prop from an old UFO movie on display in a 
New Mexico museum as a genuine E.T.? 


BUNS OF GOLD, SILVER AND BRONZE 


The 1996 summer Olympics may go down in history as the 
games that bottomed out, with studs and babes bursting 
out of skimpy costumes in what the Washington Post called 
“a gawkfest of sex appeal.” We await Sydney in 2000. 


STARFUCKERS INC. 
Trashing the stars for fun and profit: In You'll Nev- 
er Make Love in This Town Again, four women 
who've slept their way around Hollywood spilled 
the beans on their kinky encounters with Jack, 
Warren, Sylvester, Dennis, Rod, Vanna, Heidi 
and so many others. A just-out sequel, Once 
More With Feeling, may deflate (or embellish) 
more Tinseltown reputations. 


Like Cindy 
Crawford, 
Sharon Stone re- 
veals more of 
herself over- 
seas—this time 
to the read- 

ers of 

British 

GQ. 


DOUBLE YOUR PLEASURE, 
DOUBLE YOUR DOCTORS 
When identical twins Lydia and Deb- 
bie Colbert decided to increase their 
assets, they asked identical twins 
Maurizio and Roberto Viel to do 
the job. After surgery in North Lon- 
don, the girls exchanged their 
identical 34A IDENTICAL Tas 
bras for 34Cs. IDENTICAL ks 


IDENTICAL twin p 


p | өрү 
THE YEAR IN SEX 


SHOCK JOCK MEETS NUDESTOCK 

Mancow Muller, Chicago radio's answer to 
Howard Stem, invited listeners to drop trou—and 
more—and join him for Nudestock, held at the 
Ponderosa Sun Club in Roselawn, 
Indiana. Hundreds 
complied. 


plained that 
Teacher Bar- 
bie's bouffant 

skirt made it 

obvious she 
wasn't wearing ái 
panties. In later 

shipments, 
Mattel added 


undies. 


HOLLYWOOD 
FAMILY VALUES 

Having babies minus vows (from 
lefi) are Keely Shaye Smith and 
beau Pierce Brosnan, and ex-sec- 
retary Kathy Benvin, 34, and An- 
thony Quinn, 81 (their second— 
his 13th by two wives, three 
mistresses). Arissa Wolfe and 
Steven Seagal, whose other kids 
she once babysat, had a girl, and 
Bridget Rooney (of the Steelers 
Clan) claims that Kevin Costner is 
soon to be a daddy. 


FUNNY, WE THOUGHT A 
- TITMOUSE WAS A BIRD 

For the truly PC-free computer 
maven, the Booby Trak, model 
38DD, looks like a breast, works 
like a mouse. It's from Track-Em 
in Scottsdale, Arizona. 


coLD 

COCKED 
Reader Tim 
Carr, sailing the 
chilly Atlantic 
on the yacht 
Curlew, found 
this impressive 
ice phallus on 
the island of 
South Georgia. 
136 


DENNIS THE 

MENACE IV 

He could afford to hire a 

limo, but Rodman prefers 

to ride a hog. His tattoos 
show up better that way. 


BAD AS A WANNABE 
In homage to Dennis, ex- 
Partridge Danny Bonaduce 
bestrode a Schwinn and 
posed starkers for the cov- 
er of Chicago’s Windy City 
Sports magazine. 


BUT WILL THEY 
FLUNK GRAMMER? 
Rumor said Kelsey Gram- 
mer didn't like Tammi 
Alexander's posing for 
us (left), so—go fig- 
ure—he took up with 
Camille Donatacci 
(right), who mod- 
els for Playboy 
Newsstand Specials. 
Next, he crashed his 
Viper and checked in- 
to the Betty Ford 
Center. This man i 
needs a good 


tronic bingo 
in 1990. Treo fell on her 


Darcy LaPier (get- 
ting husbandly pat, right) and Ex 
Jean-Claude Van Damme reconciled when 
she got pregnant in 1995. She's filed for divorce. 
again and Isabelle Fortea Torrella (above), who 
has posed for 18 Newsstand Specials, claims 
she's now knitting booties. 


PLAYBOY 


138 


MAFIA MOLE („але 


“This cop warned me, hell, didn’t warn me, told me. 
Said the feds had Greg Scarpa on a leash.” 


the claim of a New York City Police 
Department detective who has been 
blamed for leaking information to the 
Mob and who maintains the FBI tried 
to frame him for the leaks. Scarpa also 
haunts the prosecutors who relied on 
FBI information in their efforts to 
break the back of organized crime in 
New York. Some of the secrets that 
have been exposed may undo half a 
dozen convictions of major mafiosi. 
And the alleged cover-up may contin- 
ue, with many details about the FBI’s 
conduct remaining secret forever. 

Who was Greg Scarpa? He was “a 
guy with the temper ofa chain saw and 
the conscience of barbed wire,” one 
lawman recalled. One of his former at- 
torneys said that Scarpa “abided by no 
moral code—he made his own rules.” 
Even without a gun, Scarpa was a mas- 
ter manipulator. “Greg could do 'ear- 
nest’ like nobody's business,” a federal 
prosecutor claimed. 


Scarpa was born in 1928 and grew 
up in the tough Bensonhurst section ot 
Brooklyn. It was a place where the 
most powerful role models were often 
gangsters and where young Greg de- 
veloped a reputation as a tough street 
fighter. By his early 20s he was an ac- 
complished criminal, specializing in hi- 
Jacking. It was in mid-1961, according 
to FBI documents and a former agent 
who knew him, “that Greg got jammed 
up on a hijacking beef and decided to 
deal his way out.” 

Scarpa was "turned" by FBI agent 
Anthony Villano, the quintessential 
“brick agent” and a bureau legend. A 
brick agent is a street-smart investiga- 
tor who prefers the company of gang- 
sters to that of bureaucrats. Villano, ac- 
cording to an FBI man and former 
colleague, developed more “made” La 
Cosa Nostra sources than any agent in 
the history of the FBI. “Six, I think it 
was. Scarpa, of course, was the most 
prominent. Anyway, it's the early Six- 
ties, and Scarpa is going away on a hi- 
jacking beef. Ironically, it wasn't an 
LCN agent who originally approached 
him but an agent from the bureau's hi- 
jacking squad. He promised Scarpa a 
walk if Scarpa could provide a little 
information.” 

Law enforcement officials agree that 
it was Scarpa's fear of “the joint” that 
made him eager to cooperate. Unlike 
other Mob wannabes who see jail time 


as a step in a career path, Scarpa 
dreaded prison. 

“As it happened, the agent from the 
hijacking squad was transferred from 
New York while Scarpa was still cool- 
ing his heels, waiting for a plea, in 
the Brooklyn correctional facility,” the 
FB] man continued. “But Villano was 
friendly with the guys in hijack, knew 
about the Scarpa deal and decided to 
follow up.” Shortly after that, Scarpa 
was freed. 

The day after Scarpa's release, the 
source said, Villano talked his way into 
Scarpa's Staten Island home by imper- 
sonating a former cellmate. “Scarpa 
wasn't home. When his wife answered 
the door, Villano gave her his story, 
that Greg said to look him up when he 
gotout. The wife invited him in, served 
coffee on the faux-marble dinette. 
Christ, Tony Villano had coglioni big 
enough to bowl with. 

"Anyway, when Scarpa gets home, he 
explodes. 

“Who the hell are you? he yells. 

"'Greg, Villano tells him, ‘I'm your 
FBI welcoming committee." 

“Scarpa was like, ‘Shit!’ He thought 
the FBI had forgotten about the deal 
when the hijacking agent got trans- 
ferred. He was boiling. Yelling and 
screaming. Villano just sat there calmly 
and let him get it out. Finally, of course, 
he came around. 

“So they agree to meet the next day 
at a boat basin in Montauk. They hit it 
off immediately. Villano was half a 
wiseguy himself. This was a great catch 
for him, Scarpa ran the most active 
crew in the Colombo family. A real 
earner, keeping old Joe Colombo in 
caviar and expensive pussy all by him- 
self. So Villano starts working him 
hard. This is the first true Mob in- 
former. Scarpa's not a caporegime yet. 
But he is a made soldier, as well as the 
skipper of his own crew. So the bu- 
reau's getting information on the oper- 
ation and structure of the Mafia as it 
happens. The mother lode. Brother, 
this was a first. 

“Now, you gotta picture the irony of 
the whole deal,” the former agent con- 
tinued. “While Hoover was refusing to 
publicly admit the existence of the 
Mafia, and while [Joe] Valachi was 
shocking the shit out of Congress, here 
we were using one of the Mob's up- 
and-comers as our own personal 
spook.” 

Confidential FB1 memos corrobo- 


rate the agent's memory, making it 
clear that Scarpa regaled his FBI han- 
dlers with the history, stretching back 
to the Middle Ages, of the Sicilian 
Black Hand. He told them about the 
induction ceremonies, the code of 
omerlä, or silence, the national struc- 
ture and his fellow goodfellows. 

One internal FBI memo from Sep- 
tember 1962 that recently came to light 
suggests that the bureau tried to keep 
at least a formal rein on Scarpa. It 
mentions a dispute between Scarpa's 
crew and a rival gangster named 
Joseph Magliocco and warns “that ui 
der no circumstance can Scarpa partic 
ipate in the murder of Magliocco." 

Nonetheless, Villano saw it as part of 
the bargain that he keep his mole fat 
and happy. “There are rules, and 
there’s real life,” observed James Fox, 
former New York FBI chief, regarding 
the complexities of an agent-informer 
relationship. “Sometimes you have to 
give something to get something.” 

The result was that with Villano's as- 
sistance, Scarpa “made almost as much 
from insurance-reward scams during 
the Sixties as he did on the street, 
a former law enforcement official 
revealed. 

It worked this way: Scarpa told Vil- 
lano where his Maha colleagues had 
stashed their hijacked swag. Villano 
then informed insurance companies, 
which would retrieve the stolen goods 
and give Villano money as a reward. 
Villano then gave the reward to 
Scarpa. Sometimes Scarpa gave up car- 
goes he had hijacked to avoid suspicion 
within the Mob. 

Over time, however, Scarpa’s abili- 
ty to avoid serious trouble with the 
law made his underworld companions 
suspicious. 

“Let me tell you about that cocksuck- 
er Scarpa," an old gangster we'll call 
Tommy told me one afternoon. “Iwo 
words: rat fuck.” We were sitting inside 
"Iommy's New York social club. Thick 
cut glass shielded the musty room from 
sunlight. Jimmy Rosselli's Innamorata 
trilled from the jukebox. A handpaint- 
ed mural of the docks of Palermo cov- 
ered the 30-foot-long back wall. 

Three decades ago Tommy was a 
feared button man for the Colombo 
family celebrity outlaw Joseph "Crazy 
Joey" Gallo. Tommy recalled that "in 
the beginning, back in the Sixties when 
Scarpa was king of the hijacks, we al- 
ways wondered about him because he 
took so many chances. Wondered why 
he never got popped. Then I found 
out. We had a gold shield detective on 
the pad, back in 1972 or 1973. First- or 
second-grade, I forget. But high up, in 
intel. And this cop warned me, hell, 
didn't warn me, told me. Said the feds 
had Greg Scarpa on a leash. Said never 


“Oh, there you are, dear—and this must be the auld acquaintance 
everybody's singing about!” 


139 


PLAYBOY 


140 


to say nothing in front of that rat fuck, 
"cause everything got back to the С.” 

Tommy paused and shot his cuffs. 
"So we never trusted that Scarpa cock- 
sucker, you understand? But what was 
I gonna do? Back then, he's already 
a made guy. He's goin' places with 
the Colombos. And me, I wasn't even 
made! Word gets around that I’m rat- 
tin’ him out, I end up . . .” Tommy 
glanced toward the jukebox—now 
Rosemary Clooney doing Mambo Hal- 
iano—"] end up strapped to a two-ton 
Wurlitzer somewhere out in Rockaway 
Bay, capisce?" 

Throughout the Seventies, various 
law enforcement authorities were just 
as suspicious. “He never did the walk- 
and-talk like every other wiseguy,” said 
a retired NYPD investigator. “He'd say 
anything out loud—even though every 
made guy knew we were hanging wires 
all over town.” 

An assistant district attorney recalled 
that Scarpa routinely beat “airtight” 
cases. “We'd get the guy red-handed, 
and the next thing you know the case 
would be mysteriously thrown out by 
the judge, the records sealed,” the as- 
sistant D.A. said. "Ar the time we didn't 
know what was going on. Only later 
did we find out that every time we 
nailed Scarpa, the feds would merely 
head to the presiding judge’s cham- 
bers, notify him that Scarpa was a high- 
level informant and—bingo—our case 
was in the wind. 

“Scarpa had an action jones,” he 
continued, almost admiringly. “Always 
wanted to be at the scene. That's where 
we locked him up once. Got him at the 
warehouse where they were off-load- 
ing the stuff. Liquor truck. Cases of 
Dewar's. Scarpa and his crew. Tough 
motherfuckers. Kill you as soon as look 
at you. Next thing you know the judge 
is quashing the case, throwing it out, 
sealing the records. Let me tell you, 
frustrating is not the word." 

On the rare occasion when a Scarpa 
arrest made it to trial, the assistant D.A. 
recalled, “all sorts of hinky things went 
down.” In the mid-Seventies, for ex- 
ample, the Brooklyn D.A.'s office felt it 
had the elusive gangster nailed. “We 
babysat a Scarpa witness for a whole 
year in the old Bossert Hotel in Brook- 
lyn Heights,” the prosecutor contin- 
ued. “Guy testified before the grand ju- 
ry and everything. Then the case goes 
to trial, with Scarpa sitting right there 
at the defense table. And when they ask 
the witness to point to the man who or- 
ganized the hijack, he said he couldn't. 
Scarpa was acquitted.” 

Did the Mob pressure the witness or 
did the FBI scare him off? The prose- 
cutor shrugged. “All I can tell you for 
sure is that somebody got to him. Right 
after that, word started circulating that 


this guy Scarpa was a stool, that he had 
federal protection. The fucking feds. 
Never told us nothing. 

“Another time, marrone, we had him 
on a direct buy. Guns and bribery. And 
they didn’t do nothing. They quashed 
it. Even back then he was a big-money 
guy. He was an earner. Anyway, we 
used to tail Scarpa. One night, he tells 
his crew he's going out to get laid. And 
we follow him to this FBI safe house on 
the Upper East Side.” 


After Villano retired in the early Sev- 
enties, Scarpa consolidated his 
criminal empire. His repertoire was 
varied. At one time or another he was 
accused of hijacking, assault, gun pos- 
session, selling stolen goods, loan- 
sharking, bookmaking, theft of nego- 
tiable stocks and bonds, bribing police 
officers, car thefi, usury, gambling and 
murder. He “could have served as a 
role model for ambitious gangsters,” as 
a New York Times reporter described 
him. A surveillance photo showed that 
he looked the part. Scarpa was close to 
six feet tall, with a Jean but muscular 
physique and a poker face. 

Scarpa grew richer and more unin- 
hibited over time. As one veteran Mafia 
investigator recalled, “Capos ain't sup- 
posed to be out on the street hijacking 
trucks, doing drug deals. I mean, that's 
why you have a crew. But Greg, man, 
Greg was there. He just loved the ac- 
tion. He always bad to walk point." 
Scarpa, according to law enforcement 
authorities, reveled in the business of. 
being a gangster. He personally tested 
the illegal weapons, mostly rifles, that 
he and his crew sold "to make sure 
anybody that bought a gun from him 
wasn't getting a raw deal,” one investi- 
gator recalled. When his crew hijacked 
designer dresses and furs "he was like a 
little kid. He couldn’t wait to rush out 
and shower his girlfriends with that 
kind of swag.” 

A peacock dresser forever flaunting 
a thick wad of cash, Scarpa owned 
homes on Manhattan’s Sutton Place, 
on Staten Island, in Brooklyn and in 
Las Vegas. He ruled his fiefdom with 
guile and an iron fist. 

In 1976 he served 30 days in jail for 
attempting to bribe two police officers. 
Tt was his longest stretch in jail. At that 
point Scarpa’s connection with the FBI 
was remote, or nonexistent. By the late 
Seventies he was a right-hand man to 
Colombo family boss Carmine Persico, 
Joe Colombo's successor. 


In the early Eighties, according to 
FBI documents, bureau agent R. Lind- 
Icy “Lynn” De Vecchio began “redevel- 
oping” Scarpa as a snitch, Colleagues 


said there was no better lawman in 
New York to work with the Mafia's ris- 
ing star. Like Villano, De Vecchio spoke 
the language of the street. 

“Lynn had a way of talking to Scarpa, 
of working with him, that made Scarpa 
feel comfortable,” said a former col- 
league. An agent since 1966, De Vec- 
chio had a reputation for his drive. “He 
was like a pit bull when he sank his 
teeth into a case,” said another former 
colleague. “He didn't let go.” 

De Vecchio registered Scarpa as a 
confidential informant, meaning that 
Scarpa would not be required to testify 
and his relationship with the FBI 
would remain a deep secret. The two 
contacted each other on top-security 
“hello phones” and often spoke in 
code. James Fox, who was the head of 
the bureau’s New York office from 
1984 through 1994, recalled De Vec- 
chio “delivering goods that no money 
can buy.” Declassified FBI memos re- 
veal that Scarpa provided a steady 
stream of inside gossip: who was being 
made, which crews were divvying up 
which territory, whose star was rising 
and whose was blinking out. It was also 
disclosed that Scarpa received from 
$2000 to $5000 every few months for 
his information, for a grand total of 
more than $158,000. 

It was an unusual relationship from 
the beginning. Scarpa demanded a 
waiver ot FBI regulations that required 
confidential informants to have two 
agent-handlers. De Vecchio and Scarpa 
would work alone. 

Clearly, Scarpa was a privileged 
hood. And De Vecchio went out of his 
way to help him. It has been reported 
and long rumored that the FBI man, 
for example, told the gangster who else 
was cooperating with law enforcement 
agencies. When Scarpa was having 
trouble tracking down two deadbeat 
customers in his loan-sharking busi- 
ness, De Vecchio told him where they 
were hiding. The lawman also gave 
Scarpa some advice to pass on to two 
members of his crew who were fugi- 
tives from the law. If they, in the words 
of one of the once-secret documents, 
“stayed away from their normal hang- 
outs, they could avoid being arrested.” 
De Vecchio gave Scarpa the courtesy of 
an early warning when Scarpa’s son, 
Gregory Jr, was about to be arrested 
for dealing drugs. And perhaps most 
disturbing, upon being told by Scarpa 
that a rival's death would resolve the 
Colombo family war, De Vecchio gave 
Scarpa the address where the rival was 
hiding out. 

Scarpa sometimes mentioned De 
Vecchio to his family and associates, 
always referring to the FBI agent as 
“the girlfriend.” 

(continued on page 181) 


IT’S CHRISTMAS CRUNCH TIME 


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б 


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* Moringué and Lile Suprême, two exotic liqueurs from Réunion Island, have come ashore. Moringué is a cream 
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sung’s GXTV personal game monitor features two stereo speakers in its doors, another at the base, a subwoofer and 


‘an adjustable stand—plus it’s a 13” TV (about $350). The Nintendo 64 game system (about $200) is connected to it. 


WHERE HOW TO BUY ON PAGE 104, 


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PHOTOGRAPHY BY JAMES IMEROGNO 


PLAYBOY 


144 


Con Doctor continues from page 118) 


McClarty did attend med school. Inevitably, they as- 
sume that a prison doctor is an idiot and a quack. 


him, through the second. As soon as he 
isinside, he can sense it, the malevolent 
funk of the prison air, the dread ambi- 
ence of the dream. The varnished con- 
crete floor of the long white hall is as 
shiny as ice. 

Emma, the fat nurse, buzzes him in- 
to the medical ward. She wears a but- 
ton that announces Jesus’ imminent 
arrival. 

“How many signed up today?" he 
asks, defiecting her attention to terres- 
trial matters. 

“Twelve so far.” 

McClarty retreats to his office, where 
Donny, the head nurse, is talking on 
the phone. “I surely do appreciate that. 
"Thank you kindly." Donny's perennial- 
ly sunny manner stands out even in 
this region of pandemic cheerfulness. 
He says good morning with the accent 
on the first syllable, then runs down 
coming attractions. “A kid beat up in 
D last night. He’s waiting. And you 
know Peters from K block, the diabetic 
who's been bitching about the kitchen 
food? Saying the food's running up his 
blood sugar? Well, this morning they 
searched his cell and found three bags 
of cookies, a Goo Goo Cluster and two 
Moon Pies under the bed. I think 
maybe we should tell the commissary 
to stop selling him that junk. Yesterday, 
his blood sugar was 400.” 

McClarty tells Donny that they can’t 
tell the commissary any such thing. 
That would be a restriction of Peters’ 
liberty, cruel and unusual punishment. 
He’d fill out a complaint and then 
they'd spend four hours in a hearing in 
court downtown where the judge 
would eventually deliver a lecture, 
thirdhand Rousseau, on the natural 
rights of man. 

Then there's Caruthers from G, who 
had a seizure and claims he needs to up 
his dose of Klonopin. Ah, yes, we'd all 
like to up our dose of Klonopin, Mr. 
Caruthers. File the edges right off our 
day. In McClarty's own case from 0 mg 
a day to about 50 mgs, with a little De- 
merol and maybe a Dilaudid thrown 
into the mix just to secure the perime- 
ter. No, he mustn't think this way. Like 
what the priests used to call “impure 
thoughts,” these pharmaceutical fan- 
tasies must be stamped out. He should 
call his sponsor, go to a meeting on the 
way home. 

‘The first patient, a skinny little white 
kid McClarty has never examined be- 
fore, one Cribbs, has a bloody black 


eye, which, on examination, proves to 
be an orbital fracture. His eye socket 
has been smashed in. The swollen face 
is familiar; he saw it last night in his 
sleep. “Lock-and-sock?” asks McClarty. 
The kid nods and then winces at the 
pain. Obviously new, he doesn’t even 
know the code yet—not to tell nobody 
nothing. 

“They just come in the middle of the 
night, maybe five of them, and started 
whaling on me. I was just lying there 
minding my own business.” He is a 
sniveler, a skinny chicken, an obvious 
target. Now, away from his peers and 
tormentors, he seems ready to cry. But 
he suddenly wipes his nose and grins, 
and shows McClarty the bloody teeth 
marks on his arm. “One of the sons 
of bitches bit me,” he says, looking 
incongruously pleased and proud of 
his wound. 

“You enjoyed that part, did you, Mr. 
Cribbs?” Then, suddenly, McClarty 
guesses, 

“That'll fix his fucking wagon,” says 
Cribbs, smiling hideously, pink gums 
showing above his twisted yellow teeth. 
“1 got something he don't want. I got 
the HIV.” For the moment he is de- 
lighted at the prospect of sharing the 
disease with his enemy. Afier McClarty 
cleans up the eye, he writes up a hospi- 
tal transfer and orders a blood test. 

“They won't be messing with me no 
more,” he says in parting. In fact, in 
McClarty's experience, there are two 
approaches to AIDS patients among 
the inmate population. Many are in- 
deed given a wide berth. But some- 
times they are killed, quickly and 
efficiently and without malice, in their 
sleep. 

Next, a surly, muscled black inmate 
with a broken hand. Mr. Brown claims 
to have smashed into the wall of the 
recreation yard accidentally. “Yeah, I 
was playing handball, you know?” 
Amazing how many guys hurt them- 
selves in the yard. Brown doesn’t even 
try to make this story sound convinc- 
ing; rather, he turns up his lip and fixes 
McClarty with a look that dares him to 
doubt it. So far, in the year that he has 
worked here, McClarty has not been 
attacked by an inmate except in his 
dreams. He has been threatened by 
several, most recently by Lesko. Big 
pear-shaped redneck. Aggravated as- 
sault—Lesko took a knife to a bar- 
tender who told him it was closing 
time. The bartender was stabbed 15 


times before the bouncer hit Lesko 
with a bat. Lesko has threatened to kill 
McClarty, but fortunately not in front 
of any of the other prisoners, which 
lessens the possibility that he will feel 
his honor, as well as his buzz, is at stake. 
Still, McClarty makes a note to check 
up on Lesko; he'll ask Santiago, the 
guard over on D, to get a reading on 
his general mood and comportment. 

McClarty makes his first official tele- 
phone call of the day to a pompous ass 
of a psychopharmacologist to get an 
opinion on Caruthers’ medication. Not 
that McClarty doesn't have an opinion 
himself, but he is required to consult a 
so-called expert. McClarty thinks di- 
azepam would do the trick, stave off 
the seizures just as effectively and more 
cheaply—which is after all what his em- 
ployers are most concerned about— 
than the Klonopin. What Caruthers is 
concerned about, quite independently 
of his seizures, is catching that Klon- 
opin buzz. Dr. Withers, who has al- 
ready talked with Caruthers’ lawyer, 
keeps McClarty on hold for ten min- 
utes and then condescendingly ex- 
plains to him the purpose and method- 
ology of double-blind studies, until 
finally McClarty is forced to remind the 
good doctor that he did himself attend 
medical school. In fact, he graduated 
second in his class at the University of 
Chicago. Inevitably. they assume that a 
prison doctor is an idiot and a quack. 
In the old days, McClarty would have 
reached through the phone and 
ripped this hick doctor's eyeballs out of 
his skull, asked him how he liked that 
for a double-blind study, but now he 
is happy to hide out in his window- 
less office behind the three-foot-thick 
walls of the prison and let somebody 
else find the fucking cure for cancer. 
“Thank you very much, doctor,” Mc- 
Clarty says finally, cutting the old geek 
off in midsentence. 

Emma announces the next patient, 
Peters, the Moon Pie-loving diabetic. 
“Judgment is at hand,” she tells Peters, 
as he waddles into the examining 
room. “We must all prepare our souls 
for the Savior" She looks over at 
McClarty. 

McClarty nods. "Don't worry, Em- 
ma, Terri is buying a Stair Master to 
heaven.” 

Emma slams the door in parting. 
Peters is bouncing on the examining 
table. He is a fat man, of jelly-like con- 
sistency. Everything about him is soft 
and slovenly except his eyes, which are 
hard and sharp, the eyes ofa scavenger 
ever alert to snatch a scrap from be- 
neath the feet of the predators. The 
eyes ofa snitch. McClarty examines his 
folder for a moment. 

“Well, Mr. Peters.” 

(continued on page 198) 


“Care to write your own ticket, officer?” 


145 


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cover of the October issue, 
doing wonders for a football 
jersey), Jennifer hasn't given 
up on her real ambition: to 
teach second grade. 


Miss May 
SHAUNA SAND 


Miss May (right) was an 
April bride, marrying actor 
Lorenzo Lamas—whose 
mother, actress turned as- 
trologer Arlene Dahl. picked 
the date. "It rained before 
and after,” reports Shauna, 
“but al just the right mo- 
ment the sun came out and 
it was the most beautiful 
day of my life.” Since then, 
Shauna's “crazy schedule” 
has included a movie 
called The Raven and a 
recurring role on hubby's 
TV series, Renegade. 


Miss April 
GILLIAN BONNER 


Denizens of cyberspace, 

take note: Gillian (above left) 
just completed her CD-ROM 
game, an erotic fantasy 
called Rianna Rouge. She 
wrote, produced and stars in 
it. "You'll see me getting 
blown up or being set on 
fire,” she laughs. Since her 
World Wide Web address 
was published alongside her 
Pictorial, Miss April has re- 
ceived “tons and tons” of 
e-mail. “Of course they ask, 
‘When are you going to be in 
PLAYBOY again?'" Ask no more. 


Miss January 
VICTORIA FULLER 


Fame has its rewards: “My 
brother is in Bosnia with the 
military,” says Miss January 
(tight), “so I've been sending 

him copies of the magazine 
and leuers оп PLarBoy sla- 
tionery. He's made a lot of 
friends that way.” Victoria 
has been making plenty of 
friends herself at PLAYBOY 
promotions across the coun- 
try. And she appeared on 
Friends, where her role, 
she says, was “to basically 
just be a pretty girl.” Talk 
about typecasting. 


Miss February. 
KONA CARMACK 


The Hawaiian native (below 
left) has joined the Playmate 
exodus to Los Angeles. 
“Everyone has been really 
nice,” she says, though she's 
not about to let her guard 
down. “I'm trying to keep 
the nonsense out of my life. 
because there’s a lot of non- 
sense out here.” Miss Febru- 
ary, 20, is finishing college. 
modeling and “doing lots of 
PLAYBOY appearances.” In 
other words, she’s living up 
to her name: Konaluhiole is 
Hawaiian for “never weary.” 


P 


Miss July 
ANGEL BORIS 


Miss July (left) recently 
spent five weeks backpack- 
ing through Europe. “Every 
country I went to,” she re- 
ports, “I checked the local 
глүвоү—апа when I got to 
Belgium I found myself!” You 
can find Angel in the forth- 
coming film Always Some- 
thing Better. She’s been act- 
ing since the age of five, and 
Sees PLAYBOY as a stepping 
stone. “I'm taking that op- 
portunity,” she says, “and 
Pm going to go out there 
and push it!” 


Miss October 
NADINE CHANZ 


Listen up, guys: This Ger- 
man (right) finds American 
men to be “confident and 
very good-looking—but they 
could slow down a little!” 
Nadine, 24, should heed her 
own advice. She’s gone full 
speed since her PLAYBOY 
appearance, modeling and 
starring in a European video 
program. Miss October 

is taking the world by storm, 
but she can't rest until she 
fulfills her ultimate goal— 
"to get my own star on 
Hollywood Boulevard." 


Miss Wovember 
ULRIKA ERICSSON 


“I'm a homebody.” insists 
26-year-old Ulrika (above 
Tight). but when? The 
Nordic goddess is constantly 
on the go, thanks to her 
flourishing career as a mod- 
el. Miss November returned 
to her native Sweden to ap- 
pear on a late-night TV 
show, "a Swedish version of 
David Letterman's show. Be- 
cause of rLAYBOY they want to 
see my face over there.” 
Lucky Americans: We get 
her face in the fabulous con- 
text of the rest of her. 


Miss June 
KARIN TAYLOR 


Miss June (left) hit the road 
when her issue hit the 
stands, modeling in Greece, 
Norway and Denmark. 
“When come home.” says 
the jet-setter. “my house sit- 
ter has to introduce me to 
all my new neighbors.” Now 
she’s got the acting bug: 
She'll appear on Baywatch 
asa model who runs a 
homeless shelter. “I hope 
they'll have a full-time role 
for me next season,” she 
says. “I'm tired of being just 
a clothes hanger.” 


Miss March 
PRISCILLA TAYLOR 


“| have my fingers in every- 
thing,” says Priscilla (below 
right), “since I'm not sure 
what's going to work out.” 
Sounds like everything is 
working out. She's “prize 
girl” on the Fox game show 
Big Deal, she has her own 
calendar and she's taking 
lessons from Michael Jack- 
son's voice coach. She's also 
studying improv because 
“I'd rather play the funny girl 
than the mistress.” Her 
boyfriend can't hurt. He's 
comic Pauly Shore. 


Miss August 
JESSICA LEE 


“Tm having a blast in Los 
Angeles,” says Miss August 
(left), who moved west from 
Tampa. She even attended 
her first Hollywood party. 
“Everybody wanted to find 
out who they knew and what 
they could get from them.” 
she reports. Welcome to L.A. 
Though she's a celebrity. the 
21-year-old claims she's 
never recognized. "I walk 
around with no makeup and 
I'm just an average girl.” If 
this is average, Jessica is re- 
ally raising the bar. 


Miss December 
VICTORIA SILVSTEDT 


It may be hard to believe, 
but Miss December 1996 
used to have a complex 
about her looks. “When I 
was younger, I was shy and 
had low self-confidence.” 
says the 22-year-old Victoria 
(right), who grew up in a 
small Swedish town. “Be- 
cause of my career, I started 
to like my body, and today 
I'm very proud of it.” She 
now lives in Paris. where 
she’s a model with a coterie 
of admirers. Thirty million 
Frenchmen can't be wrong. 


Was the Year That Was 


umor By Robert S. Wieder - think of the past 12 months as a kind 
of dance—one in which some key players made a lot of missteps 


1996 Melatonin 


lying bastards spewing venom, To aid their quest for nightly rest, 
hate and fear. jobbled melatonin. 
Ко оз Е D. It works, no trick, but we'll just stick 
Yeoh, it’s election year. | With good old-fashioned bonin’. 


Bob Dole 


Old Bob Dole, stiff as a pole, 


Dennis Rodman 


Dennis Rodmon played like God, man, 


Tattoos, rouge and all. Left voters uninspired. 
If Jordan is king, then dig Worm's thing: It’s hard to appeal or spark folks’ zeal 
queen of basketball. When you make Al Gore look wired. 


Prince Charles & Princess Di 
The royal twits have called it quits— 

ee some p. 

And Chuck in bed gets no “crowned head"— 

Go find real jobs, you jerks. 


Don Imus 
Don re D.C.'s elite, 
With crude vulgari 
His poniente Ab: bucks gig 
On М5! 


Ross Perot 


He heord a nation’s cries of 

"Run, Ross, run!”—heard pleas and cheers. 
Но one else heard this, but then, 
Who as Perot's cars? 


Madonna is with child at last, 

A trainer did the seeding. 

The tickets should go on sale soon 
For baby’s first breast-feeding. 


Macarena 


Jerk and sway and hop, then grab 
Your arms and head and pants. 
Macarena must be Spanish 

For “I’ve got St. Vitus’ dance.” 


Marge Schott 


Tossed from the game was Marge Schott; blame 
Her statement most u 

“Herr Hitler, he was ps ‘ot rst” 

Yeah, sure, Marge, like your mind? 


Michael jackson 6 Lisa Marie Presley 


The King stopped spinning in his grave 
When Lisa bailed on 

Mike was too weird, Roca averred, 

And floppo in the sacko. 


ILLUSTRATIONS BY BLAR DRAWSON 


The internet 


The courts said, “Censor not the Net, 


Luciano Pavarotti 


The tenor's babe is half his age. 
Luciano. 

We hope the о ES pace she'll set 
jon't leave him a soprano. 


Rush Limbaugh 


When Rush backed Dole instead of Pat, 
e dittoheads gave him flak: 

"Hey, yore no no far-right nut like us. 
You're just o party hack!” 


Bill Clinton 


Accused of lies, offairs, drug highs 
тина, 


yes, of course we're swearing! 


Unabomber 


Kaczynski said, ^l hate all science, 
Nature is my shtick! 
Then don’t build ien. tech bombs, you sap, 
Just whock foes with a stick. 


Bill pepe eode Robert Allen 


Who thus felt presidential. 


Robert "a made $6 million 


Dick Armey 


Barney Frank was “Barney Fag” to 
This colleague. How smarmy. 

“Twas most unwise to thus crack wise. 
Pal, your name's still Dick Armey. 


Wr Doce stashed $5 million cash 
ris could not purloin it. 

ES hide (away across the sea; 

Let's hope he goes to join it. 


as: 0.]. Simpson 


Hillary Clinton 


One scandal ond then another, 
Poor Hillary had to fight. 

And this bod preni "n doesn't take. 
A village to indict. 


Garry Kasparoy 


| o hat we doff to Kasparo\ 

Who proved, with skill and Gor, 

7 Mankind is shrewder than computers: 
He kicked Deep Blue's ass! 


Christopher Reeve 


The Man of Steel's confined to wheels 
Since falling on his noggin. 

Now celebs and Dems ask Chris out 
For whatever cause they're floggin’. 


p "3 


Newt Gingrich 
Newt blamed the By ee”, ill: crime, 
Violence, drugs and riot 

Жеш bod breath oa George Burns’ death 
And crobgrass, if we'd buy it. 


Helen Gurley Brown 


H. Gurley naaa Mars 

7 дус Bet your fa any 

y it soon will come her latest tome: pr 
re se abet they cried. 


There ore signs enough of such strunge stuff 
In last week's cottage cheese. 


PLAYBOY 


160 


Blast From The Past (oninued from page 64) 


A tremendous noise shook the room. The explosion 
knocked Bond and Cheryl onto the floor. 


The man set his tool kit on the floor 
and removed a screwdriver. 

“May I offer you anythii 
manager asked them. “Coffee: 

“No, thank you,” said Bond, “but I 
would like to see my son’s desk. Can I 
do that while our man works on the 
lock?” 

“Certainly,” the manager said. “Fol- 
low me.” 

James Suzuki's desk was clean and 
uncluttered. A photo of his mother was 
framed and sitting on top of a comput- 
er monitor. Adjacent to it was a framed 
color snapshot of him as a boy with 
Bond. It had been taken when James 
was about 12 years old, during a rare 
visit to London. They were posing in 
front of one of the Trafalgar Square li- 
ons. Kissy had taken the photo. It 
could very well have been the only 
photo James had of his father. 

Bond did a quick pass through the 
desk and found nothing of interest. 

The manager asked, “How is James’ 
aunt doing?” 

Bond looked at him. “What?” 

“Iis aunt. She was here a couple of 
days ago and used the safe-deposit 
box,” the manager said. Bond stared at 
him, incredulous. “She showed me 
written authorization——" 

Before the man could finish, Bond 
and Cheryl bolted for the stairs and 
ran back to the safe-deposit room. 
They stepped through the open door 
justas Sam said, "I think 1 have it,” and 
turned the lock. 

A tremendous noise and blinding 
flash of white light shook the room. 
The force of the explosion knocked 
Bond and Cheryl from the doorway 
and onto the floor of the corridor out- 
side. Smoke began to fill the place, and 
alarms sounded immediately. 

“Are you all right?” Bond shouted to 
Cheryl. 

So 

“Wait here!” He jumped up and into 
the next room. A large gaping hole in 
the wall marked where the safcty-dc- 
posit box had once been. 

He dashed to the corridor and took 
hold of Cheryl. “We have to get out of 
here or we'll suffocate.” 

Together they found the stairs up to 
the ground floor, and outside. Mr. 
Nishiuye was helping a couple employ- 
сєз when he saw them. 

“І thought you were dead!" he ex- 
claimed. “What about Sam?” 

Bond shook his head. “He took the 


" the 


blast intended for me, I think," he said. 

The fire engine's siren screamed in 
the distance, Bond and Cheryl joined 
the crowd of people in front of the 
bank. They both had dark smudges on 
their clothes and faces. 

"Then he saw her. The bag lady was 
standing on the other side of Park Av- 
enue, watching. Bond could swear she 
was not looking at the bank and the 
pandemonium in front of it—she was 
staring straight at him. 

“Stay here,” he said to Cheryl and 
started to cross the avenue. 

As soon as the woman saw Bond ap- 
proaching, she moved quickly around 
the corner onto a one-way street head- 
ing west. Bond began to run. He 
reached the other side just in time to 
see her step into the backseat of an 
idling black town car. He rushed to 
it, leaped and reached for the door 
handle. The driver stepped on the 
gas. Bond fell back and immediate- 
ly jumped up. By then, Cheryl had 
crossed the street and was running af- 
ter him. 

He reached Madison Avenue, but 
the car had already crossed it and was 
continuing west. He ran against the 
red light, dodging around cars moving 
up Madison. A taxi almost hit him and 
the horn blared. 

“James! Wait!" Cheryl called, and she 
caught up to him on the other side of 
Madison. 

An empty taxicab was idling in front 
of a delicatessen about 100 feet west of 
them. The orr Dury light was on; the 
driver had stepped out and gone in- 
side the deli. Bond sprinted toward it 
and jumped into the driver’s seat. 
Cheryl ran to the passenger side. As 
Bond drove off, the cabdriver ran out 
of the delicatessen, shouting. 

“I'm not sure what you just did was 
entirely legal,” Cheryl said. 

“They do it in the movies all the 
time,” Bond said, speeding toward 
Fifth Avenue. The car had crossed 
Fifth and was heading toward Sixth Ay- 
enue, but traffic had brought it to a 
halt. Bond crossed the intersection and 
pulled into the line of traffic on the 
narrow street. Four vehicles were be- 
tween the cab and the other car. Sud- 
denly, it tore out of the line of stalled 
traffic, pulled onto the pavement, and 
then sped along the shop fronts to- 
ward Sixth Avenue. Scared pedestrians 
screamed and jumped out of the way. 
The town car pulled down a canopy in 


front of a shop as it raced recklessly to- 
ward the intersection. 

Bond cursed and drove the cab onto 
the pavement as well. He floored the 
gas pedal and took off, following the 
town car. Cheryl was too stunned to 
scream. 

The other car reached the intersec- 
tion at Sixth Avenue and shot out into 
moving traffic. Another cab rammed 
into its back fender, but it kept on go- 
ing. Horns were braying as Bond's taxi 
burst out into the avenue. They man- 
aged to make it across without get- 
ting hit. 

They were still traveling west on a 
one-way, narrow street, and there was 
now nothing between the town car and 
Bond’s taxi. Bond bore down, gaining 
on it. Then he saw a figure lean out 
of the car's window, pointing back 
at them. 

“Duck!” Bond yelled just as the wind- 
shield shattered above his head. He 
pulled out the Walther PPK, held it in 
his left hand out the window, and shot 
at the car. He knocked out a taillight. 
Bond was out of practice driving with 
the wheel on the left, and shooting with 
his left hand. 

At Seventh Avenue, the town car 
turned left and headed south. Bond 
zoomed into the intersection doing 
60 miles per hour and almost hit a 
bus. Cheryl gripped the dashboard 
and stared straight ahead, not saying 
a word. 

The town car weaved in and out of 
traffic, scooting ahead and sailing 
through an intersection just as the light 
turned red. Bond, through his teeth, 
said, “Hold on!" He stepped on the gas 
and leaned on the horn of the cab. 
Cross traffic had already entered the 
intersection and another taxi pulled in 
front of Bond. He had to swerve to 
avoid broadsiding it, but nevertheless 
took off its back bumper and sent the 
cab spinning like a top in the middle of 
the intersection. 

The town car turned right onto an- 
other one-way street, heading west. 
Bond followed, hot on its tail. The 
figure leaned out of the car once again 
and fired at them, but missed. 

Cheryl suddenly snapped out of her 
deep freeze. “All right, that does it,” 
she said, and pulled a Browning 9mm 
automatic pistol out of her bag. 

“Christ, Cheryl,” said Bond, “now 
you think of that?” 

“Sorry, I was enjoying the ride,” she 
said. She leaned out the passenger win- 
dow. She fired twice. The man who was 
aiming at them dropped his gun on the 
street and withdrew into the car. 

"There're three people in the car," 

(continued on page 172) 


BILL MATER, ВІ. 


BY BILL MAHER 


ecause I do a show with the 
title Politically [ncorrect, Y am often 
challenged as to the meaning of that 
phrase. For me, it never implies being 
liberal or conservative—it just means 
the opposite of being political, which means 
being full of shit. Politicians are full of shit 
because they re so afraid of saying anything 
that someone, somewhere, might disagree 
with that they say nothing at all, or tell a 
bunch of white lies. So, to me, being politi- 
cally incorrect simply means calling a spade 
a spade, and just the fact that 1 now bave to 
add "and I don't mean anything by that" 
shows how supersensitive we've become. 

In fact, the worst thing political correct- 
ness ever did was give liberalism a 
bad name. It accomplished this 
by taking sensitivity to extremes 
and thereby alienating America's 
vast sensible center. If you insist 
that deafness is just an alterna- 
tive, not a handicap, that's stupid, 
it's taking it too far. If you blame 
an accident caused by your own 
stupidity on corporate negli- 
gence—because no one told you 
not to be an idiot—you're con- 
tributing to the rat-fucking of our 
overloaded judicial system. If you 
say, as Johnnie Cochran did, that 
a person can't tell ifa man is black 


or white by the sound of his voice, you are, 
plainly, full of shit. That's not racist—that's 
just real. 

Sensitivity is important, but it’s not the 
only virtue required for the prevailing of 
humanity. Liberalism has been identified 
with this silly level of sensitivity now for a 
decade, and that’s not good for anybody in 
America. We need a strong left to put bal- 
ance in the national debate; no democracy is 
well served by a weak opposition, and no 
country is stable as long as one side is so in 
ascendancy that its nuts are given quarter 
and the other side’s nuts are not. The 
woman who sued McDonald's after she 
spilled their coffee on her lap is as ridiculous 
as the Freemen who take $600,000 in gov- 
ernment subsidies and then say they don't 
believe in the government. So 
was David Koresh's claiming a 
religious mantle so he could con 
desperate, hero-needing folks in- 
to letting him fuck their kids. So 
is anyone who spills blood at this 
point in our working democracy 
in the belief that violent revolu- 
tion is needed. 

It’s not. Bad as things are, in 
the history of the human race, 
this is about as good as it gets. If 
you think you're suffering on this 
planet, check out pages three 
through ten of The New York Times 
every day. Everybody, get real. 


SHARPEN 
YOUR 
PENCILS 
& VOTE 


It was quite a 
year. The Fugees 
and Bone Thugs- 

N-Harmony brought 
melody to rap. The next Brit 
invasion heated up 
with the new Oasis and the old 
Sex Pistols. Fourteen-year-old 
LeAnn Rimes and BR5-49 
kicked country out of the 
mainstream. Tracy Chapman 
put a smile in her music and 
Me’Shell Ndegéocello put a 
growl in hers. Neither Toni 
Braxton nor Hootie & the 
Blowfish had sophomore 
slumps. Nor did Beck. 
Robert Altman’s movie 
Kansas City spotlighted 
the young turks of 
jazz. And the great 
lady of song, Ella 
Fitzgerald, passed 
on. Babyface, the 
R&B power both 
behind and in 
front of the mike, 
won just about every 
possible accolade. Lit- 
tle Richard even 
played the Olympics. 
Can you get more ac- 


КУ Ж ШЕШ. 


cepted than that? On a somber note, there 
is a new heroin epidemic. It should be a 
cautionary tale. Jonathan Melvoin over- 
dosed, and others were in and out of re- 
hab. It’s sordid, and it nearly de- 
railed the Smashing Pumpkins’ 
successful concert tour. But a year 
that combined Seventies nostalgia 
and a rediscovery of ska with 
Rancid cannot be dismissed. 
Take a listen to Tom Jones 
singing Kung Fu Fight- 
ing in Supercop. 105 
worth its weight in 

\ platform shoes. 


Here is your 1997 
Jazz & Rock Poll 
ballot. Please check 
the box next to 
your favorite in 
each category (or 
write someone in). 
Then put a stamp 
on the attached en- 
velope and mail it 
no later than Janu- 
ary 15, 1997. 


MALE VOCALIST 

O Beck 

Û Noel Gallagher 
Г] John Mellencamp 
[J Tom Petty 

O Prince 

O Darius Rucker 
Û Sting 

i (J Michael Stipe 

i O Eddie Vedder 


Û Neil Young 
42% 


FEMALE VOCALIST 
Tori Amos 

(J Tracy Chapman 
© Ani DiFranco 

Û Celine Dion 

Û Gloria Estefan 
O Jewel 

O Natalie Merchant 
J Alanis Morissette 
[Г] Joan Osborne 

О Patti Smith 


¿En 


GROUP 

O Everclear 

O Hootie & the Blowfish 

O Dave Matthews Band 

Lj Metallica 

Û No Doubt 

[] Oasis 

O Pearl Jam 

O REM. 

Û Smashing Pumpkins 

Soundgarden 
ED 


i 
! 
П 


INSTRUMENTALIST 

( Peter Buck 

O Dave Grohl 

O Buddy Guy 

O Mickey Hart 

DI John Popper 

0 Trent Reznor 

J Keith Richards 

Г] Carlos Santana 

Û Kenny Wayne 
Shepherd 

(A Jimmie Vaughan 


An 


ALBUM 

U Crash: Dave 
Matthews Band 

Û Evil Empire: Rage 
Against the Machine 

O Fairweather Johnson: 
Hootie & the Blowfish 

( Mercury Falling: Sting 

Û New Beginning: 
Tracy Chapman 

Û Sparkle and Fade: 
Everclear 

ГГ] Three Snakes and One 
Charm: Black Crowes 

O Tragic Kingdom: 
No Doubt 

O (What's the Story) 
Morning Glory?: Oasis 

Q Wild Mood Swings: 
the Cure 


SEX 


Aza 


MALE VOCALIST 

ГГ] Tony Bennett 

O Freddie Cole 

O Harry Connick Jr. 
DI Jon Hendricks 
Û Kevin Mahogany 
( Bobby McFerrin 
Û Jimmy Scott 

Q Frank Sinatra 
Г] Mel Tormé 

O Joe Williams 


MEX) 


FEMALE VOCALIST 
DI Dee Dee Bridgewater 
O Randy Crawford 
O Shirley Horn 

(© Lena Horne 

© Etta James 

J Sheila Jordan 

Û Abbey Lincoln 

Û Tania Maria 

O Sade 

QO Cassandra Wilson 


BED) 


INSTRUMENTALIST 
Û Wessell Anderson 
Г] James Carter 
0 Cyrus Chestnut 
DI Kenny G 

J Joe Lovano 

UI Wynton Marsalis 
© Leon Parker 

[Г] Joshua Redman 
O Max Roach 

Г] Joe Sample 


£n 


GROUP 

Û Ornette Coleman 
& Prime Time 

[Û Jerry Gonzalez & 
the Fort Apache Band 

U Charlie Haden 
Quartet West 


Г Bob James Trio 
Г) Ramsey Lewis 
Г] Lincoln Center 

Jazz Orchestra 
© Mingus Big Band 
Û Arturo Sandoval 
O Henry Threadgill 
O McCoy Tyner 


22% 


ALBUM 

Û All for You: Diane Krall 

Г} The Best of the 
Songbooks: 
Elia Fitzgerald 

Û The Child Within: 
Billy Childs 

C] Conversin’ With the 
Elders: James Carter 

Û Gumbo Nouveau: 
Nicholas Payton 

{Û Live at the Village 
Vanguard: Joe Lovano 
Quartets 

TJ New Moon Daughter: 
Cassandra Wilson 

[Г] The New Standard: 
Herbie Hancock 

Q Old Places Old Faces: 
Joe Sample 

© Q's Jook Joint: 
Quincy Jones 


s + detach here 
CONCERT = ER 
[Г] Further Festival , 
O Al Green | D $ ш 
О H.OR.D.E. 1 iiu 
Û Kiss a I5 X: 
Û Lollapalooza \ 
[Г] Oasis, Screaming Trees, et al. | 
O Pearl Jam | 


L] Smokin’ Grooves 
Bruce Springsteen 
O ZZ Top 


A 
SOUNDTRACK 


( The Crow: City of Angels 
[J First Wives Club 

J 1 Shot Andy Warhol 

J Kansas City 

[J Leaving Las Vegas 

0 The Nutty Professor 

J Phenomenon 

Û Tin Cup 

[Û Trainspotting 

[2 Waiting to Exhale 


detach here 


PO.Box 11236 
Chicago, Illinois 60611 


Playboy Jazz & Roock, Poll 


detach here 


әләц yeap 


HALL OF FAME 


Û Tony Bennett 
Û James Brown 
Û Johnny Cash 
[J Sam Cooke 

Û Aretha Franklin 
Û Marvin Gaye 
Q Dizzy Gillespie 
Û Jerry Lee Lewis 
O Joni Mitchell 
0 Charlie Parker 
Q Prince 

J Smokey Robinson 
Mel Torme 

O Hank Williams 
Q Jackie Wilson 


SEX 
VidE®: 


Û Big Me: Foo Fighters 

( Tha Crossroads: Bone Thugs-N-Harmony 
[1 Gangsta's Paradise: Coolio with LV 

Û Glycerine: Bush D 

[J Ironic: Alanis Morissette 

C] It's Oh So Quiet: Björk 

J Killing Me Softly: Fugees 

O Missing: Everything But the Girl 

Û Tonight, Tonight: Smashing Pumpkins 
( Where It's At: Beck 


42) 
YVEEJAYXS 
Û Bill Bellamy Û Donnie Simpson 
0 Joe Clar Tabitha Soren 


O Idalis De Leon O Angela Stribling 
( Daisy Fuentes C Rachel Stuart 
Û Kennedy Û Brett Walker 


! 
M O sw 
Û Babyface C Tribe Called Quest 
J D'Angelo 
(J Al Green SEX 
Û R. Kelly 
Û LL Cool J 
O Nas Û The Coming: 
0 Busta Rhymes Busta Rhymes 
O Tony Rich [J E. 1999 Eternal: 


Û Tupac Shakur 
Û Keith Sweat 


Bone Thugs-N-Harmony 
L] Gangsta's 
Paradise: Coolio 


Û Toni Braxton 

O Mariah Carey 

Û Celly Cel 

Û Deborah Cox 

O Aretha Franklin 

ÛJ Whitney Houston 

Û Monica 

Û Me'Shell Ndegéocello 
Û Ann Nesby 

U Crystal Waters 


SED О ئ‎ 


Written: Nas 
Û Mission to Please: 
Isley Brothers 


( Bone Thugs-N-Harmony 
Q А. Kelly: R. Kelly 


Û George Clinton 


and the P-Funk 0 The Score: Fugees 
Allstars ( Secrets: Toni Braxton 
Û De La Soul Q Stakes Is High: 
O Fugees De La Soul 
Û Groove Theory O Words: 
Û Isley Brothers Tony Rich Project 


О La Bouche 
C] New Edition E 


( Mandy Barnett 
O Faith Hill 

Û Patty Loveless 
O Martina McBride 
Û Mindy McCready 
Û Lorrie Morgan 
Û LeAnn Rimes 
Û Shania Twain 

J Trisha Yearwood 
L] Wynonna 


SEX 


TJ Rhett Akins 

DI Garth Brooks 
O Junior Brown 
Û Vince Gill 

TÛ Alan Jackson 
[Г] George Jones 
Û Tracy Lawrence 
Û Lyle Lovett 

Û Collin Raye 

[Г] George Strait 


Û Blackhawk 
Û BR5-49 
( Brooks & Dunn 

[Г] Confederate Railroad 
L] Diamond Rio 

U Little Texas 

( Lonestar 

DJ Ricochet 

( Mavericks 

Wilco 


¿En 


O Blue: LeAnn Rimes 

[Г] Borderline: 
Brooks & Dunn 

Û Calm Before the Storm: 
Paul Brandt 

Û Clear Blue Sky: 
George Strait 

O Greater Need: 
Lorrie Morgan 

Û High Lonesome Sound: 
Vince Gill 

Û I Lived to Tell It All: 

George Jones 


A Revelations: 
Wynonna 

O Semi-Crazy: 
Junior Brown 

C The Trouble With 
Truth: Patty Loveless 


“You're a real hoot, Marley—but shouldn't you be off 
scaring the shit out of Scrooge?” 


167 


Yeah, heh heh. 
I got twenty questions 
for you-- When are we gonna 
Damnit Mike, I score? When are we gonna score? 
thought you were gonna When are ме gonna score?... 
take us to the mansion. 
Huh huh huh, 


KE JUD 


ive years ago Mike Judge was un- 

known. Then his brainchildren Beavis 
and Butt-head went on MTV and became 
the world’s favorite geeks. “The Beavis and 
Butt-head phenomenon,” as the press termed 
il, spawned endless MTV appearances, as 
well as guest shots on the networks and tons 
of Beavis souvenirs and Butt-headed mer- 
chandise. They even gigged with Cher, 
singing, "I Cot You, Babe, Heh-Heh-Heh." 

Judge's cartoon became controversial he. 
was charged with fomenling pyromania and 
general grossness—but Beavis and Butt- 
head stumbled ever onward. Now comes 
their greatest test, a full-length movie re- 
leased this month. Critics are advised to 
wear splatter guards. 

“People expect a skinhead with swastikas 
when they meet me,” says Judge, a balding 
33-year-old millionaire who dresses in jeans 
and T-shirts. He drives his rusty trash-can 
of a car to a posh Century City office provid- 
ed by Fex TV, home of his new cartoon series, 
“King of the Hill.” Judge spends 16-hour 
workdays there, then races home to his wife 
апа two baby daughters. 

We sent Contributing Editor Kevin Cook, 
another balding dad with a polly mouth, lo 
meet Beavis and Butt-head's creator. 

“Judge is everything his work isn't— 
calm, thoughtful and self-deprecating,” 
Cook says. “He works hard but never forgets 
how Wharholian his story is—Texas egghead 
musician hatches cartoon craze. 

“Now Judge must somehow top himself. 
He must point Beavis and Buit-head toward 
midadolescence. 1 
think hell suc- 
ceed because he 
has that rare 
artistic gift—a 


the creator of 
beavis and 


butt-head | к 
charts their " 

Sex lives т.лүвоу: Do 

d you slave over 

i Beavis and Butt- 

names their Baronius 


their adven- 
tures just pop 
out of you like 
pimples? 

Junge: It’s like 
what Michael 
Palin once said 
about Monty 
Python: "You 
can't put a guy 
ina Viking out- 
fit and hit him 
with a chicken 
without careful 


favorite male 
celebrity and 
reveals the 
secret to the 
sound of frog 
baseball 


PHOTOGRAPHY BY STEPHEN SIGOLOFF 


preparation.” A lot of planning goes in- 
to making Beavis and Butt-head com- 
pletely lame and stupid. I write memos 
to the animators about the way Butt- 
head's top lip should curl when he 
says, “This sucks.” 
2, 

piavnov: What, if anything, are B&B 
right about? 

JUDGE: The people who make arty, 
high-concept videos think they are so 
heavy and smart, but Beavis and Butt- 
head watch them and say, “This is 
dumb. It sucks.” Or they'll see an ex- 
plosion in the background and say, 
“Fire, cool,” which sort of shoots down 
the whole thing. That's what 1 like 
about them. They may be idiots, but 
sometimes they're right. Sometimes 
the truth comcs out if you let yourself 
be simpleminded. 


Sh 


piayoy: Are they role models, and if 
so, for whom? 

JUDGE: No. They're dumb. They would 
like to be like the people on Beverly 
Hills 90210, but liey can't get ube nun 
bers right, Beavis thinks it's 9029010. 
Pin always surprised when people 
think Beavis and Butt-head have hyp- 
notized the youth of America, because 
Гус never met a kid who doesn’t get it, 
who doesn’t sce what losers they are. 


аз 


PLAYBOY: Now that they're famous, are 
you tempted to tame them? Couldn't 
you get richer if you made them less 
disgusting? 

Jupce: "They're not like the Fonz. Re- 
member the early Fonzie? He was actu- 
ally cool. But then the character deteri- 
orated. He fell into that TV trap—on 
‘one episode Fonzie shows what a big- 
hearted guy he can be, and by the last 
season that's all he is. Our show will 
never give you that sappy moment. 
You will never hear Beavis say, “You 
know, Butt-head, I haven't been a good 
friend to you lately.” 


ЕЯ 


praynoy: Are Beavis and Butt-head re- 
ality-based? 

JUDGE: I used to see 13-year-olds in the 
mall in their badass Megadeth T-shirts, 
these guys who want to be heavy metal 
rebels but first have to go get their 
braces tightened. And I once played 
upright bass in a blues band in Ken- 
tucky and saw two teenage boys up 


ILLUSTRATIONS BY SHARON FITZGERALD, KAORI HAMURA, MONICA SMITH 


| 0 
front, each with that curled lip, making 
that “this sucks” face at me. 

T got some of Beavis from a guy in 
Texas, where 1 was in an awful Top 40 
band. This guy used to follow one of 
the singers around. He couldn’t look 
you in the eye. He chuckled to himself 
a lot. They're still together—I saw the 
singer recently, and he said he gets by 
on unemployment and stealing from. 
this guy. “He's so stupid,” he said. “I 
take money out of his pants while he's 
asleep. Next day he says, 'Man, some- 
body's stealing from me!’ and moves 
his money to the other pocket." Beavis 
isa little like him. He may get smacked 
around by Butt-head, but it's the price 


he pays. I mean, who else would hang 
out with him? 


6. 


PLAYBOY: As we come off this past elec- 
tion year, rank Beavis, Butt-head, Son- 
ny Bono, Dan Quayle and Ted Ken- 
nedy in order of intelligence. 

JUDGE: Butt-head, Quayle, Beavis and 
Bono. When he’s sober, Kennedy’s 
probably up there with Butt-head. 


7. 


кїлүвоү: The boys once sang with 
Sonny’s ex. Any chance they got lucky 
with Cher? 

JUDGE: She's a powerful presence. 
When she walks into a room you can al- 
most hear a voice saying, “Ladies and 
gentlemen . . . Cher.” Yes, she took 
them backstage. She showed them her 
butt tattoos. But they didn't score. 
Beavis fouled it up as usual. He never 
realizes when a woman likes him the 
only time he thinks of scoring is when 
he's home by himself—so he acts like a 
weirdo. Butt-head, who thinks of him- 
self as an irresistible stud, starts getting 
pissed because he's not getting any, 
and finally the girl gets disgusted and 
leaves. It happened again with Cher. 


8. 


pLavsov: Were the boys disappointed 
when Pamela Anderson Lee got mar- 
ried and had a baby? 

JUDGE: No. They respect Tommy Lee 
more than ever. And they think that ba- 
by will be the ultimate human being. 


9. 


PLAYBOY: Who are the girls of their 
dreams? 

JUDGE: Anna Nicole Smith. Jenny Mc- 
Carthy. There was talk of getting them 
on Singled Out, but I think the girls 


169 


PLAYBOY 


would run for the exits: "It's not worth 
that to be on TV!” 

Beavis has a thing for Tinkerbell. And 
they both want to see Snow White na- 
ked. They figure that if she'd do a dwarf 
she must be easy. But it'll never happen. 
Ican never let them get laid. That would 
be like letting Charlie Brown kick the 
football. 


10. 


PLAYBOY: You're directing the epic Beavis 
& Bull-head Do America. How are they as 
actors? 

JUDGE: Difficult. I'll be on take 423 say- 
ing, “Beavis, think back to a time when 
you were sad." He says he had a cool 
dead mouse but he flushed it down the 
toilet. “OK, use that.” “Use what?” 

I do personalize them. I used to put 
their pictures in the studio and stare at 
them when I did their voices, but now I 
just shut my eyes and go to their world. 
It looks like my dreams. I dream in car- 
toons. Once I had a scary feeling, think- 
ing, God, these guys are a bigger part of 
my mind than I am. 


п. 


PLAYBOY: Some fans detect a homoerotic 
frisson in the show. Is it there and, if so. 
would Butt-head be the pitcher? 
jUDGE: They seem so preoccupied with 
saying they're not homos, it’s suspicious. 
With two guys who always hang out to- 
gether, you have to wonder. I can tell 
you that the guy in Texas who followed 
the singer around turned out to be bi. 
When he was working construction he'd 
bring home these guys in business suits. 
You'd hear bedsprings and banging on 
the walls in his room. 

Yes, I think Butt-head would be the 
pitcher. 


123 


pLaysoy; What will you remember about 
1993, the year your show stormed pop 
culture? 

jubce: Beavis and Butt-head supposedly 
made a kid start a fire in a trailer park. It 
was all over the news. Later it turned out 
the place wasn't wired for cable. I was al- 
so charged with causing a cat's death. 
But Butt-head had only joked about 
putting a firecracker in a cat’s butt, and 
anyway that practice has gone on every 
summer since there have been firecrack- 
ers and cats. After that I went on the In- 
ternet and told people, "Imitate every- 
thing you see.” 

It was funny how Beavis and Butt- 
head were talked about like real peo- 
ple. My name was hardly mentioned. I 
liked that. And I liked getting letters 
from women in their 50s, saying the 
show helped them break the ice with 
their sons. It helped them talk about sex 
without awkwardness. I still get letters 
like that. 


13. 


PLAYBOY: Did you start fires as a kid? 
JUDGE: Not many. I tried to make bombs 
with my chemistry set, but they never 
worked. I had a friend who took the fuel 
from my family's Coleman stove, poured 
it on our patio and lit it. He watched 
these huge rolling flames with a happy 
look on his face. I built an X-ray machine 
when I was a kid. I used a Tesla coil—it 
looked like the stuff in old Frankenstein 
movies. I'd sit with my hand in it, watch- 
ing the green glow. Maybe all that radi- 
ation helped create Beavis and Butt- 
head—some kind of mutation. In those 
days I absorbed X rays and compulsively 
ate french fries. I almost got fired from 
my job for eating fries. 


14. 


PLAYBOY: Weren't you a cook at a burger 
joint? 

JUDGE: I never got that high up. I've had 
bad jobs—loading chain-link fence in 
100-degree weather—but fast food is 
the worst. I worked at a burger joint in 
Albuquerque where the cooks took the 
burgers off the grill and put them into 
the broth pan, a vat full of beef soup 
mix. You might get a burger that had 
been in there for four hours. The cooks 
had a theory about that: You didn’t need 
to cook the burgers all the way, because 
anything in the broth pan turned brown 
anyway. 

Later I worked at a different fast-food 
place. The food was much worse, and 
there was a guy, a part-time security 
guard, who was scary scum. He tried to 
burn people with hot equipment. One 
night he gave me a ride home. On the 
way he pulled out a .357 Magnum and 
started waving it. I thought he was going 
to drive me out to the hills and rape me. 
Buthe let me go. He did other evil things, 
though, and got fired. Then one day he 
came in to eat. A friend of mine was 
working the grill. He hocked and— 
phwoot—spit a big loogie on the guy's 
burger. Then he covered it with cheese. 
We watched through a one-way mirror 
as the security guy ate his loogie burger. 


15. 


PLAYBOY: Do you have any other pranks 
to confess? 

JUDGE: I got a degree in physics from the 
University of California at San Diego 
and worked for engineering firms, in- 
cluding a government contractor that 
helped make F-18 jets. We were bored 
опе day, so my boss said, "Let's burn 
something.” He got a suicide cord—an 
AC cord with two naked wires running 
out of it—and hooked it up to an elec- 
trolytic capacitor, which blew up like a 
firecracker. We had papers, desks, calen- 
dars catching fire. Another time he took 
us out to a Dumpster full of hundreds of 
fluorescent light tubes. He heaved a big 
rock up into them, setting off the coolest 


chain reaction, a long, slow boo-00-o00m, 
an unforgettable sound. 


16. 


PLAYBOY: One of your early cartoons fea- 
tures "frog baseball," in which helpless 
amphibians get smacked to pulp. How 
did you get that perfect squish sound at 
impact? 

JUDGE: That was a cool sound, too. I com- 
bined a baseball bat hitting a watermel- 
on, a baseball bat on a punching bag, a 
piece of cow liver hitting a chopping 
block and a sword swipe. That was a cool 
sound. 


17. 


PLAYBOY: Define the terms "butt munch" 
and "choad." 
JUDGE: T tried a term I remember from 
junior high, “ass munch,” but it didn't 
clear standards. So I changed it to butt 
munch, which actually has a nicer ring. 
It almost sounds like an ice cream flavor. 
Sometimes the words just pop up. I 
was improvising when 1 had Butt-head 
call Beavis a “butt knocker.” I didn't 
mean anything homosexual by it, but 
Beavis got mad. "Don't call me that. I'm 
serious,” he said. Butt-head is still domi- 
nant, but Beavis has been talking back 
more lately. He's evolving, becoming less 
dependent, maybe more of a spastic sa- 
vant. As for “choad,” one theory is that 
it’s from the Spanish for sausage, chorizo. 
Atmy junior high school in New Mexico, 
Kids would say chuad fur pei Апо 
theory is that it has something obscure to 
do with chinchillas. 


18. 


PLAYBOY: What are Beavis and Butt- 
head’s cultural imperatives? 

JUDGE: Stuff sucks. They think the Bea- 
tles suck. Picasso sucks, too. And what's 
funny to me is how powerless you are 
against that opinion. Could you con- 
vince these guys that Picasso is good? 
No. Never. So however great Picasso 
may be, there is this Beavis and Butt- 
head world where he sucks, and about 
a third of the population lives in that 
world. 


193 


PLAYBOY: What's thei 
opening line? 

jupce: They were impressed with Prince 
Charles vhen he told Camilla Parker- 
Bowles he wanted to be her tampon. 
“We thought that guy was a wuss,” they 
said, "but he's pretty smooth." 


20. 


pravuoy: What male celebrities do B&B 
admire? 

JUDGE: They look up to Engelbert Hum- 
perdinck. He can sing the shit out of 
a song, and he gets lots of chicks. They 
love his name, too. 


idea of a good 


АР. e % 
M ^ ° 
d Íy EN 


riri appretiate quality enjoy i responsibly 
, i7. 


Blast From The Past (continued from page 160) 


“You thought I perished in the explosion, didn't you? 
You left poor Ernst in a heap on the floor.” 


PLrAY SOY 


said Bond. “The driver, the woman and 
the man you just shot. Nice work.” 

“Thanks,” she said. 

Cheryl leaned out again to fire, but 
the town car reached Eighth Avenue, 
and tumed south against the one-way 
traffic traveling north. 

“They must be mad!” she shouted, but 
Bond followed them. Sirens shrieked be- 
hind them. 

At 23rd Street, the town car turned 
right and drove west again. Bond sped 
after it across Ninth Avenue and onto 
‘Tenth. They were nearing the Hudson 
River. 

The town car slowed and turned into 
a loading dock of an old four-story 
building on Tenth Avenue, and Bond 
pulled in a block away next to the curb. 
He jumped out and took cover behind 
his open door. Cheryl ran to the side 
of the building and flattened herself 
against it. Bond followed and stood be- 
side her, watching and listening. 

“What is this place?” he asked. 

“Some kind of warehouse. No telling 
who it belongs to.” she said. “There's 
nothing this far west in Chelsea but old 
warehouses." 

Bond snaked nearer to the dock en- 
trance, but a steel door barred the way to 
what appeared to be a parking garage. 
There was no visible way in on this side 
of the building. The sun was sinking 
fast, and an orange glow permeated the 
streets. The police sirens were lost in the 
distance, and this area of the city was 
deserted. 

There was a fire escape on the side of 
the building. "I'm going to get in up 
there. Go find a phone and call for back- 
up or whatever it is you do here,” Bond 
ordered. 

"I don't think you should go in there 
alone,” she said. 

“Go on, please, Cheryl,” he said with 
determination, and then he leaped up 
and grabbed the bottom of the metal 
ladder. It rolled down with hi: 1 

“All right.” she said, “but 
ing right back after you.” She looked 
around, located a phone booth on the 
opposite corner, and ran for it. 

Bond climbed to the second floor. He 
tried the window, but it was locked or 
stuck. Up another flight, the window 
inched up a bit. Bond put all of his 
strength behind the effort and opened it 
wide enough for him to slip through. 

It was very dark inside. He stood still 
and allowed his eyes to adjust to the 
lighting. It was some kind of lounge 
area; chairs and couches dating from 
172 the Fifties dominated the room. He lis- 


tened and could hear faint movement 
below him. 

He slowly moved across the room to 
the open door, but the wooden floor 
creaked as he walked. Damn! If they 
didn't know he had already entered the 
building, they were aware of his pres- 
ence now. 

As soon as he stepped through the 
doorway, he felt a sharp pain on the 
back of his head and all light was 
extinguished. 


The jolt of three slaps on the face 
brought Bond out of the pit of darkness. 
He was propped in a chair in a different 
room, some kind of old office, with junky 
furniture piled next to the walls. A single 
overhead light cast a dull yellow glow 
over the floor. 

‘The back of his head hurt like hell. His 
first reflex was to reach up with his right 
hand to rub his head, but the cold muz- 
zle of a pistol jabbed his temple. 

“Don't move,” a man's voice said. 

Bond groaned, squeezed his cyes 
twice, then focused on the blurry figure 
standing in front of him. It was the bag 
lady, but strangely changed. The rags 
were gone, and she was dressed in a 
black shirt and black trousers. Her face 
still seemed smooth, waxen, unreal. She 
was plump and short, probably no more 
than 52”. The gray hair pulled back in a 
bun seemed fake—it looked as if she 
wore a wig. 

“You don't recognize me, Mr. Bond?" 
she said. "Maybe this will help." 

The woman reached up to her hair- 
line and gently began to peel off some- 
thing stuck to her skin. No, she was actu- 
ally peeling off her skin! She worked 
carefully, removing a thin mask of syn- 
thetic flesh that covered the right half of 
her face. Underneath was a grotesque 
skin condition that began on her right 
cheekbone and went up the side of her 
face and underneath the wig: the scar- 
ring of poorly executed plastic surgery. 
She was a female version of the phantom. 
of the opera 

“Hideous, Mr. Bond?” she said. “Take 
a good look. I want you to see what you 
did to me.” She pronounced her Ws as 
Vs, like a B-movie Nazi. 

What the hell was she talking about? 
Bond forced himself to look at her again, 
and this time the feeling of recognition 
he had earlier experienced returned. He 
looked past the horrible mask and saw a 
square, brutal face with toadlike fea- 
tures. No! He felt his heart race when he 
realized who she was. A report claiming 


that the woman had been seen in Aus- 
tralia received some attention shortly af- 
ter the Japanese affair, but this informa- 
tion proved to have been false. It was 
seemingly impossible, but there she was 
in front of him. She was supposed to be 
dead! 

“Irma Bunt,” he said. 

“Oh, so you recognize me!” she cack- 
led. She carefully replaced the skin mask 
as she talked. “You thought I was dead, 
didn't you? Everyone thought I was 
dead. Well, 1 was. I was dead for many 
years, until now.” She chuckled to her- 
self, then said slowly and with menace, 
“Now I am more alive than I ever was. 
It's a pity you survived the surprise I left 
for you in the bank. Now ГЇЇ have to take 
care of you here, but that might be more 
entertaining after all.” 

Bond surveyed the situation. A man 
stood behind his chair and held a pistol 
to his head. Another man, the wounded 
опе, was next to Irma Bunt. His shoul- 
der was bloody, and he had crudely 
wrapped something around it. He was 
holding Bond's Walther PPK in his left 
hand. A third man was a few feet away, 
leaning against the wall and armed with 
what appeared to be an Uzi. 

“You are wondering how 1 am still 
alive,” Fraulein Bunt said. 

Bond hoped he could stall her and 
keep her talking until Cheryl could ar- 
rive with the cavalry. 

“You're right, Fraulein, Lam wonder- 
ing. The last time I saw you, you were ly- 
ing on the floor of that castle with a 
bump on your head.” 

Her mask was once again in place. 
Bond couldn't decide which of her faces 
was more freakish. 

“You thought I perished in the explo- 
sion, didn’t you? I regained conscious- 
ness just as you were escaping on that 
balloon. I knew what was happening. I 
could hear the rumbling from below. I 
knew I had seconds to get out of there. 
You left poor Ernst in a heap on the 
floor, but there was nothing 1 could do 
for him. He was dead.” 

As she talked, the flood of nightmarish 
memories returned to Bond. Ernst 
Stavro Blofeld had become a fugitive 
from the law after the Thunderball affair 
and the business in the Alps. With the 
demise of SPECTRE, Blofeld and his com- 
panion, Irma Bunt, had fled to Japan, 
where he had assumed the identity of a 
horticulturist named Dr. Shatterhand. 
Blofeld had purchased an ancient, aban- 
doned Japanese castle and built a “re- 
search lab” for exotic, poisonous plants 
and dangerous animals. Mad as a hatter, 
Blofeld's true intention had been to en- 
tice Japanese citizens to commit suicide 
in his so-called “garden of death.” Bond 
had infiltrated the castle's defenses, 
knocked out Irma Bunt with a staff, 
strangled Blofeld and rigged the under- 
ground geyser to explode. 

“I was escaping in a small boat we kept 


uh EU. 


ER 


173 


“So, you want to see if there's any room at the inn?” 


PLAYBOY 


174 


for just such a purpose when it blew,” 
Bunt continued. “I was hit in the head 
by debris and almost drowned. These 
men here saved me and have remained 
loyal. Like you, I lost my memory. I 
didn’t know who I was. I was taken toa 
private German clinic near Kyoto, where 
I underwent several operations. There is 
a metal plate in the right side of my skull, 
and the skin on my face . . . well, my pl 
tic surgeon could do very little with it. 
The damage was too great. I was in bed 
for a year, and rehabilitation lasted an- 
other two years of my life. It took anoth- 
er ten years for a psychiatrist to finally 
pull me out of the hole into which I had 
fallen. Then I remembered. I looked 
back at what I had lost, and forward 
to the years of suffering ahead of me. 
That's a long time to ponder one's 
future, Mr. Bond. At the time I didn’t 
know exactly how. but I knew you would 
play a prominent role in it.” 

“Why did you have to 
Bond seethed. 

“Ah, your son!” Bunt smiled. Her fea- 
tures were so distorted that the edge of 
her mouth lifted on only one side of her 
face. “My intelligence sources retraced 
your footsteps in Japan. I discovered 
your pretty little Kissy. There was a little 
boy living with her, about ten years old, 
when I finally found her. I kept watch 
and followed her all the way to America. 
I finally established that he had a link 
to you.” 

She took a barber's razor and a small 
vial of liquid out of her pocket, “This is 
what I used on him. I lined the blade 
with a little fugu poison, and ever-so- 
subtly cut him one day as he was enter- 
ing his building. Did you like my d 


my son?” 


guise? It fooled even you, Mr. Bond, 
didn’t it?” 

Bond knew that fugu is poison ex- 
tracted from a blowfish that lives in the 
waters of Japan. The Japanese have li- 
censed fugu chefs prepare it in restau- 
rants so that no mistakes are made. That 
explained the cut on James’ arm. 

“You killed my wife, too, you bitch,” 
Bond said, “and if you think I'm going 
to let you live after today, you're as mad 
as ever.” 

“Oh, yes!” she gloated. “Your wife! 
The daughter of that criminal, the Corsi- 
can, Draco. That was an accident, Mr. 
Bond. Those bullets were meant for you. 
If you had died then, it would have 
saved us all a lot of trouble, no? It would 
have saved me my——" 

Bunt's lower lip trembled. Her eyes 
grew fierce and she suddenly shout- 
ed, "Look at me! Look at what you 
did to me, English pig! You destroyed 
my face!" 

“Fraulein Bunt,” Bond said with ven- 
om, “you were never a beauty queen." 

The woman stepped up to him and 
slapped him twice. She was shaking with 
rage and madness. Bond started to jump 
up from the chair, but the thug behind 
him thrust the pistol roughly into his 
temple. 

“Don't move!" he commanded again. 

Bond had to think. His hands were 
free. Surely there was some way he could 
gain an advantage. 

Bunt stepped back, rubbing her palm. 
“My, my, Mr. Bond,” she said, a bit more 
calmly. “You need a shave. You have 
quite a stubble. What do you think, 
Hans? Don’t you think Mr. Bond needs a 
shave?” 


“Just dial 1-900-woor. It’s phone sex for dogs.” 


The man standing behind Bond 
grunted affirmatively. 

Irma Bunt opened the vial of fugu 
poison and poured it along the edge of 
the razor. “Now hold still, Mr. Bond. I 
think you would hate for me to slip and 
nick you. You know how fast this poison 
works? In five minutes, you become dis- 
oriented. In ten minutes you lose control 
of your muscles. In 15 you stop breath- 
ing. I understand the experience is ex- 
cruciatingly painful. Hold his arms, 
Hans. Josef, cover him.” 

The man behind Bond holstered the 
pistol and grabbed Bond's wrists. He 
twisted them sharply behind the chair 
and held them in a vise-like grip. He 
was very strong. The man with the Uzi 
moved forward and held the barrel up at 
Bond. Irma Bunt stepped closer, hold- 
ing the razor in front of her. Syrupy liq- 
uid dripped from the blade. 

Bond refused to close his eyes as the 
woman pressed the cold razor against 
his right cheek. He stared into her yel- 
low eyes as she slowly scraped the blade 
down his face and cleanly cut his beard. 

“It's a little rough without lather, is it 
not, Mr. Bond?” she said. “But you like 
close shaves, don't you?” 

Bond held his breath, willing his facial 
muscles not to jerk involuntarily. The 
woman brought the blade down again, 
finishing the job on the right cheek. She 
fingered the age-old, faint scar there. 

“Looks like you weren't so careful 
onc morning, ch?" she said. “Now lift 
your chin, please. We need to do the 
neck now.” 

She pulled his chin up and Bond 
stared at the ceiling. He felt the blade cut 
against the stubble. It was rougher going 
there, and he anticipated a sharp sting. 
The woman concentrated intently on 
her job, breathing heavily. 

A bead of sweat rolled down Bond's 
forehead and into his left eye. He winced 
and almost flinched away from the razor. 
The woman's breathing became even 
more pronounced. Bond glanced down 
at her and saw that her free hand was 
rubbing her breasts as she applied the 
razor. My God, he thought, she was sex- 
ually excited by this! The sadistic woman 
licked her lips, her eyes focused on 
Bond's vulnerable neck. 

“Now the left cheek, Mr. Bond,” she 
said. He leveled his head and stared 
straight ahead, past the woman and 
Josef, the man with the Uzi. To his 
‘amazement, Cheryl Haven was peering 
into the doorway of the room, gun in 
hand. Their eyes met. She gestured to- 
ward Josef with a slight nod of her head. 
Bond deliberately closed his eyes and 
opened them. Cheryl quietly stepped in- 
to the doorway and assumed the firing 
stance, 

The blast hit Josef in the back and 
he fell forward. Bond simultaneously 
kicked up at Irma Bunt, knocking her 
away from him. The man holding his 


wrists released his grip and went for his 
gun, but Bond leaped out of the chair 
and tackled him. Cheryl immediately 
turned her gun on the wounded man 
and yelled, “Freeze! Drop the gun!” The 
surprised man dropped Bond's Walther 
and held up his one good arm. Irma 
Bunt dashed from the room. 

Hans delivered а blow to Bond's chin 
that knocked him onto the floor. With 
lightning speed, the man then drew his 
gun, but the blast from Cheryl's Brown- 
ing hit him in the head, splattering his 
brains across the dirty wooden floor. 

“Thanks,” Bond said, rubbing his 
chin 

“Not a problem,” she said, training 
her gun back on the wounded man 
“The lady just took a powder.” 

“You watch him, I'll go after her,” 
Bond said. He picked up his Walther 
and ran from the room into a large, 
open space. What he saw disoriented 
him. The dimly lit warehouse was full of 
the ancient remains of what must have 
been parade floats. A storybook castle 
made of papier-máché sat on a flatbed 
with wheels. A large cartoon dog built 
out of wood and steel lay on its side, one 
leg broken off. Other dilapidated struc- 
tures of various subjects, from a giant 
hot dog to statues of American presi- 
dents, were scattered about in a bizarre 
and otherworldly fashion. 

Where had she gone? He listened to 
the room but heard no running foot- 
steps. He ran toward the broken floats 
and began to search under, on and 
around them. She could be anywhere. 
The place was so full of junk she could 
easily blend in with the debris and not be 
noticed. He needed more light 

He was looking around the body parts 
of a giant papier-máché Abraham Lin- 
coln when a shot rang out. The bullet 
zipped past him and into Lincoln's head, 
shattering it into bits. The woman had 
a gun! Bond dove for cover, waited 
a moment, then peered out into the 
dark, open space. The shot had come 
from somewhere on the other le of 
the room. 

After a moment, a door behind one of 
the floats opened and a figure ran 
through it. Bond bolted upright and ran 
after her. It was a careless move, for she 
immediately leaned in and fired the gun 
at him. Bond dived for the floor and, 
with both hands on his Walther, fired in- 
to the open doorway. Too late. The 
figure had disappeared, running into 
the next room. 

Bond leaped to his feet, ran to the 
door and flattened himself against the 
wall beside it. Commando-style, he 
swung in and crouched, his gun ready. 
Again, his senses were assaulted by the 
surreal visuals. This small room was full 
of naked, broken male and female man- 
nequins—loose arms, legs, torsos and 
complete bodies were piled together in a 
grotesque, frozen orgy. The image so 


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confused Bond that he foolishly left him- 
self wide open. The shot slammed into 
his left lower leg, shattering his fibula. 
Bond screamed and rolled over into a 
mass of plastic appendages. He un- 
leashed a volley of ammunition toward 
the far side of the room, firing blindly at 
the mannequins. The noise was deafen- 
ing, but Bond thought he heard a muf- 
fled cry. 

His leg was burning like hell. He took 
a moment to examine the damage. 


Blood poured from a wound a couple of 


inches above his ankle. He pressed his 
left foot against the wall to test his 
strength and tremendous pain shot 
through him. Was he crippled? Would 
he be able to walk again? 

Bond peered across the room at the 
mass of bodies and saw some movement. 
Pushing pieces of mannequins aside, Ir- 
ma Bunt crawled out onto the floor. He 
had hit her after all. Her wig had fallen 
off, revealing the area where the metal 
plate had been implanted. The mask 
hung loose from her face as if an epider- 
mal layer had been sliced away. She must 
have dropped her gun, for she used 
both hands to pull herself along the floor 
like a snail, Smeared blood trailed be- 
hind her. Bond watched in fascination 
and horror as she got within a few yards 
of him and then stopped, completely 
drained of energy. She looked straight at 
Bond and snarled, “English pig. . . . " 

And then she slumped forward and 
died. 

Bond rolled over onto his back and 
drifted into unconsciousness, just as 
Cheryl Haven and her team entered in- 
to the room. 


James Bond gazed out the hospital 
window, enjoying another bright and 
sunny Manhattan spring day. His leg 
would be ina cast for the next few weeks. 
A pin had to be inserted to reinforce 
007's broken fibula. He had no memory 
of the trip to the emergency room, 
where he had been for two hours the 
night before. Bond vaguely recalled the 
recovery room and a pretty nurse with a 
pleasant voice, It was now late afternoon 
of the following day. He had caten a half- 
portion of bland, intolerable scrambled 
eggs, drunk a lite tepid orange juice 
and picked at a cup of runny vanilla yo- 
gurt. Much to his surprise, the miserable 
meal had given him back some energy. 
He would have liked to stand up and 
walk around, but he had no crutches yet. 

Bond mentally explored his mind and 
body, taking stock of the powerful in- 
strument that had taken him so many 
times to the edge of disaster and back. 
All things considered, he felt good. 
Much of this, he knew, was due to the 
euphoria of victory. Seeing Irma Bunt 
die in front of him had been morbidly 
satisfying. He felt a closure on a painful 
epoch in his life, and the relief was ex- 
hilirating. The occasional bad dreams 
about Tracy, Blofeld and Japan would 
most likely cease now. He thought of 
James as well—the boy he never knew, 
the son he never lived with. James 
hadn't deserved to die. Bond was aware 
he needed to grieve, and that it would 
happen sooner rather than later. He 
wouldn't allow himself to dwell upon it 
too long, lest he would start to blame 
himself. Save it all for another day, he 


“Come back with me to my place and let me hang your 
stockings by the chimney with care.” 


ordered himself. For now, relish the vic- 
tory. Not only had his son's death been 
avenged, but he had, he hoped, settled 
the score regarding Tracy. 

“Well, look who's awake!" a woman's 
voice said, and he knew who it was by the 
Blackpool accent. 

He turned his head from the window 
and was met by the lovely sight of Cheryl 
Haven wearing a white, sleeveless T-shirt 
and a pair of daringly short cutoffs. Her 
lack of a bra was obvious. Her golden 
hair glistened in the sunlight streaming 
in from the window. Her smile was one 
of the most beautiful things Bond had 
ever seen. 

“Good morning,” Bond said. “Er, 
good afternoon.” 

“How do you feel?” she asked, pulling 
up a chair beside the bed. She crossed 
her long, shapely legs. 

“Now that you're here, | feel great,” 
he said. 

She reached out and placed her hand 
on his arm. "I'm glad you're OK. That 
was quite a night. You're going to have to 
come to New York more often. I don't 
get many dates like that." She playfully 
squeezed his arm. 

Bond laughed and then asked, “What 
have you found out?" 

"The wounded man sang the whole 
story. They entered the country six 
months ago. We're still checking on how 
Immigration missed them. All three of 
those men had been with her for years 
They were loyal to the end. They were 
actually living in that old warehouse. Did 
you know that it used to be a storage 
tenter for Macy's? No one's ever cleaned 
it out” 

“I want to thank you. You saved my 
life.” 

She laughed. “Oh, you don't know 
how many men Гуе longed to hear say 
that.” 

“I can't believe you don't have men 
lining up to say that,” he said, taking her 
hand in his own. 

“Oh, please stop it,” she said, but her 
eyes betrayed that she appreciated the 
compliment. 

“We never had that dinner,” he said. 

“Are you hungry now?” she asked. 

"Asa matter of fact, I'm famished,” he 
said, staring into her warm, brown eyes. 

Cheryl looked around, stood up and 
closed the door to the room. Next, she 
pulled the curtain around the bed, giv- 
ing them a little privacy. Without saying 
a word, she pulled off her T-shirt, reveal- 
ing large, firm breasts. Her nipples were 
extended and the skin below her neck 
was flushed. She unsnapped her cutoffs, 
but kept them on. She climbed onto the 
bed next to him, carefully avoiding the 
injured leg. 

“If you're hungry, darling,” she whis- 
pered, lifting her right breast to his 
mouth, “bon appétit. 


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©1996 Playboy 


PLAYBOY 


178 


WHOOPI GOLDBERG „сг зв) 


You can get pregnant. You can get sick. So why not 
teach children about masturbation? 


GOLDBERG: How much time do you 
have? I did everything 

PLAYBOY; Was is difficult for you to stop? 

GOLDBERG: It was difficult until I figured 
out why I did them. You don't want to 
hurt, but the wound gets bigger and fes- 
ters. So I stopped doing all drugs and 1 
faced those wounds and felt the pain. It 
hurts, but it does heal. 

PLAYBOY: What advice did you give your 
daughter when she got pregnant at 15? 

GOLDBERG: I understood why she had 
done it, which was to have some identity 
other than being my child. At 15 you 
want your own identity. 

PLAYBOY: Were you upset that she was 
having a baby that young? 

GOLDBERG: Yes, but I would support her 
no matter what came along. I practice 
what I preach: You have to support your 
children. 1 wasn't going to turn her out 
or make her feel bad. She was scared. 
‘That let me know that our relationship 
was still good, even though it’s inevitably 
in that mother-daughter tunnel. But she 
came to me first and she said, “Mom- 
my?" And I said, “What?” She said, "I'm. 
pregnant.” I said, “Well, what do you 


You are generous to a fault. 


want to do?” She said, “I want to have 
it." I said, “OK. You know it's a lot of 
work. It's not easy and there will be 
times when you're not going to want to 
be bothered." She said, "I'm ready." I 
said OK, knowing full well that this wasa 
task for the family. Now her baby, born. 
on my birthday, is seven—and fantastic. 
PLAYBOY: Didn't you advise her to have 
an abortion—to wait to have a child? 
GOLDBERG: You can't tell kids much these 
days. They're much older than we were. 
АЙ we can do is try to create cnviron- 
ments for those who choose to have their 
children. And there will be more of them 
if the extreme right gets its way. If they 
abolish or make it harder to have an 
abortion, there will be more children 
with babies. But if our Kids have chil- 
dren, we have to help them through it. 
We've got to hunker down and make the 
best of it and not let them go by the way- 
side. We ought to be giving some of these 
young boys an education, too. Where 
are they all? If they are going to have 
children, they need to be prepared for 
the responsibility that comes with father- 
ing. We need to start making the boys as 


accountable as the girls are. I think if 
there were more guidance and mone 
the programs that the Republicans want 
to cut, we'd find fewer babies in garbage 
cans, We'd find fewer parents snapping 
under pressure, and there would be a lot 
less child abuse. 

PLAYBOY: As a former welfare mother, do 
you support the welfare bill? 

GOLDBERG: I worry that there are too 
many children who are going to fall by 
the wayside. Listen, I know welfare. It is 
very degrading. And people don't go on 
welfare because they want to, despite 
what the Republicans say. I raised my 
child partially on welfare and know how 
much it can help, even if it is degrading. 
It gave me some breathing space and 
gave me a little bit of dignity. It needs to 
be fixed, but there must be a safety net. 
It was degrading, but not as degrading 
as going out and prostituting yourself. I 
mean, that's the bottom line. 

PLAYBOY: Literally prostituting yourself? 
GOLDBERG: Absolutely, because when you 
are trying to raise a child and you have 
no job or a chance of a job, there aren't 
many alternatives. In every system there 
are people who abuse welfare. But they 
are not the majority. And they are not 
all black. And they are not all without 
education. 

PLAYBOY: How do you feel about limits on 
welfare so people will be required to re- 
turn to the workforce? 

GOLDBERG: I'd be fine with it if there 
were jobs out there. Most people do not 
want to sit home. So sure, make people 
go back to work, but train them and of- 
fer them good jobs. Corporations, in ex- 
change for tax breaks, should have to 
provide training and meaningful child 
care. Then we can talk. They want to 
stop abortion, yet they are against sex 
education? What fucking hypocrisy. Sex 
education is important. I was very dis- 
tressed when Joycelyn Elders lost her 
job. Kids have to know. Would you 
rather have people masturbate or have 
abortions? It's the safest sex you can 
have. Mutual masturbation is the safest 
sex you can have with somebody else. 
Oral sex is out. Penetration is out. You've 
got to be careful. You can get pregnant. 
You can get sick. So why not teach chil- 
dren about masturbation? They're going 
to do it anyway. 

PLAYBOY: You have raised these issues at 
the Academy Awards ceremonies. How 
much free rein do you have? 

GOLDBERG: Quite a bit, as you may have 
noticed. 

PLAYBOY: Why did you decline to return 
for this year’s show? 

GOLDBERG: 1 just know that I can’t be any 
better than I was. I learned from the first 
time, and I don’t think I can surpass the 
second time. There's a lot of pressure. 
PLAYBOY: Last year you took on Jesse 
Jackson, who called for a protest against 
the program because so few black actors 
were nominated for awards. 


GOLDBERG: Don't get me started. 
PLAYBOY: Get started. 

GOLDBERG: We've all known and been 
working with and struggling with the 
problems Hollywood has with black ac- 
tors. We knew it much better than he 
did. Yet I was hosting the awards, Quin- 
cy Jones was producing them, black acts 
such as Stomp were on, so it was the 
wrong place to complain. Besides, Jack- 
son never asked what we—black actors— 
thought. But because he said he was boy- 
cotting the show, all I said was, “Since 
you aren't watching, I ain't going to deal 
with you.” This created a big old stink, 
too. Ooh, people were so pissed off. 
PLAYBOY: When Jackson called for the 
protest, did you and Jones sit down and 
discuss what your re- 
action would be? 
GOLDBERG: І was 
ready to rip him 
a new behind. But 
Quincy said that he 
didn't want me to do 
anything. 

PLAYBOY: We take it 
that you couldn't help 
yourself. 

GOLDBERG: [A pariicu- 
larly sweet, innocent 
smile] That’s right. 
Listen, Quincy has 
been fighting this bat- 
Че for 45, 50 years. 
Harry Belafonte has 
been fighting it for 60 
years. Sidney Poitier 
for years and years. 
So I just had to quiet- 
ly deal with it. A lot of 
people were very an- 
gry. They thought I 
insulted Jackson. 
PLAYBOY: And margin- 
alized him, 
GOLDBERG: Marginal- 
ized him? He basically 
put me and Quincy in 
the position of choos- 
ing to do this thing 
we wanted to do and 
felt was a very posi- 
tive thing to do, or to 
stand up alongside him. He put us in the 
position of looking like we were kissing 
somebody's ass. 

PLAYBOY: Do you agree that black actors 
were underrepresented in terms of the 
nominations? 

GOLDBERG: Maybe, but not in terms of 
that show. 1 mean, it was the wrong show 
to point to and say that blacks are being 
blocked from participating in Holly- 
wood. People seem to forget that the 
mere fact that I’m still here is a huge 
statement. So is the fact that a lot more 
people look like me than they did 12 
years ago, when I started—I mean, this 
hair! And I never have to be anybody ex- 
cept who I am. Ina previous generation, 
a black actor might have had to fit a 


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mold. But this is me. These are my lips, 
my nose, my hair, my butt—spread, un- 
spread, spread, unspread, depending on 
the season. I have to hold my temper. 
PLAYBOY: Is Hollywood still racist? Does it 
downplay the work of blacks? 
GOLDBERG: No. Because if you look at the 
past five years of the Academy Awards, 
опе or two of us have always been nom- 
inated. I have been nominated—what? 
Twice? And won once. But are things 
perfect? Hell, no. It ain't perfect in the 
world. 

PLAYBOY: Have you talked with Jackson 
since then? 

GOLDBERG: Oh, yes, yes. He said [imitat- 
ing kim] “Well, you know, we've got to 
get together.” I ain't heard from him 


J Too good to 
keep cooped up. 


101 PROOF 


since. Yeah, that’s Jesse. He's basically 
full of shit. 

PLAYBOY: A character in your Broad- 
way show was a black girl who wanted 
blonde hair because everyone on TV was 
blonde. Did you feel that way when you 
were little? 

GOLDBERG: І guess I did. When I was 
growing up, you looked at the back of a 
magazine and saw the Breck girl. And 
you just knew it wasn't going to happen. 
You'd take the magazine to your mother 
and she would just say, "Ain't going to 
happen.” 

PLAYBOY: Is it fundamentally different for 
a black girl growing up now? 
‘GOLDBERG; Oh, yeah. I mean, this is very 
egotistical of me, but look at me: I'm 


here. I'm here and I'm here in a big way. 
In liule kids’ books, in magazines, in 
movies, on television, on the Academy 
Awards ceremony, on Star Tick, in reruns 
forever, God bless them. I am a pres- 
ence. There was no one until I became a 
teenager, and then Diahann Carroll 
came on in a big way with the TV pro- 
gram Julia. Now there are shows with 
entirely black casts and commercials 
with black actors. 

PLAYBOY: For similar reasons, gays com- 
plain that they are portrayed as homici- 
dal maniacs or stereotypical queens. Are 
you sympathetic? 

GOLDBERG: Of course. America has been 
in the closet for a long time. We are be- 
hind in our thinking in so many ways. 
Sexual revolution or 
no sexual revolution, 
the bottom line is 
that we are still very 
uncomfortable when 
it comes to sex. Any- 
thing we don't un- 
derstand, we want to 
eliminate. But I 
think people have to 
recognize that there 
is nothing you can do 
to stop people from 
living their lives. Ei- 
ther adapt or walk 
away. Move to anoth- 
er place where peo- 
ple will continue to 
be intolerant. Move 
to Iran. 

PLAYBOY: That's b: 
cally what you 
to white supremacist 
Tom Metzger when 
he appeared on your 
talk show. 

GOLDBERG: That's it. 
He said that the races 
should be separate 
and I said, “So where 
are you going, Tom? 
Because I'm not go- 
ing anywhere.” This 
is why the immigra- 
tion issue is making 
me insane. Immigra- 
tion is the backbone of this country. Im- 
migrants built America. I look at the last 
names of a lot of the people who are 
speaking about the terrible problem 
with immigration and think, How long 
ago were you an immigrant? 

PLAYBOY: What were the high points of 
your talk-show experience? 

GOLDBERG: Getting to sit down with some 
wild people—Alexander Haig and ask- 
ing him, "So what should I call you? 
Should I call you ‘General’?” “Call me 
Big Al.” Gordon Liddy—talking to him 
was a hoot! Whatever he is, he's a great 
conversationalist. We disagree on just 
about everything. Same with Charlton 
Heston, but talking to him was a thrill. 
PLAYBOY: Didn't he give you a big kiss? 


179 


PLAYBOY 


GOLDBERG: Yeah. I asked him if there 
had been an uproar when he did The 
Omega Man and had this great interracial 
kiss with Rosalind Cash. It was one of the 
first big, swooping smackaroonies that 
we saw. He said, “No.” Then he leaned 
closer to me and said, “Are people really 
upset by that in this day and age?” And I 
said, "Oh, yeah! I've had them cut out of 
movies.” And he leaned closer and said, 
“Really?” And I said, “Yeah,” and he 
leaned closer and gave me a big old kiss! 
And there were other good moments, 
too. I have a tattoo of Woodstock on my 
breast, and Charles Schulz asked if I 
wanted him to sign it. It was wonderful. 
When Tom Metzger was on, he asked for 
my autograph for his kids. 

PLAYBOY: In that case you were criticized 
for being too nice. 

GOLDBERG: My job on that show was to 
listen. I never said I was going to fight 
for causes. I knew how I felt, and I 
thought I was very clear about it. People 
were angry because they wanted me to 
voice their opinion. But one of the rea- 
sons they yanked the show is that I 
wouldn't get into fights, wouldn't do a 
monolog and wouldn't put in a band. 
The show was about conversation. 
PLAYBOY: Would you have had Newt 
Gingrich on your show? 

GOLDBERG: I would have enjoyed the op- 
portunity to talk with Newt Gingrich. I 
have always said it is hard to take some- 
one named Newt seriously, but this i 
coming from someone named Whoopi. 
Gingrich, with his loose-lipped contract, 
is a small-minded man. Yeah, it would be 
great if taxes could be cut. I would be so 
happy if welfare could be eliminated. I 
would be thrilled, you know, if big busi- 


ness really embraced the country. I 
would be thrilled if we didn't need 
affirmative action. But we do. At least 
Colin Powell acknowledged the need for 
affirmative action. 

PLAYBOY: Do you admire him as a black 
leader? 

GOLDEERG: He is for a woman's right to 
choose and for affirmative action—the 
latter because he knows it works. He 
backed the wrong horse, though. Clin- 
ton really does believe in affirmative ac- 
tion. I wouldnt be here, and neither 
would any other person of color. Before, 
it just wasn't working. We have had to 
take sterner actions to ensure that all 
Americans get their due. American, not 
African American. I won't let anyone call 
me African American. 

PLAYBOY: Why not? 

GOLDBERG: Because I'm not an African 
American. I'm purebred, New York— 
raised. I'm not from Africa. Calling me 
an African American divides us further. 
It means that I'm not entitled to every- 
thing an American is entitled to. My 
roots go back longer here than a lot of 
those folks who have nothing in front of 
“American.” Some of those folks came on 
the Mayflower, but we were under the 
Mayflower. We were here. I am just very, 
very insulted by what that does. I don’t 
have to excuse the fact that I am brown- 
skinned orblack-skinned. I don't have to 
explain that. I was born here. I am as 
American as a hot dog. As baseball. 
[Laughs] I can feel the teeth in my ass 
right now as we're talking [laughs]—just 
feel it. Chomp. Chomp. Chomp. 

PLAYBOY: Who's chomping? 

GOLDBERG: The people who feel they 
have the divine right of kings to speak 


for me and every other black person. 
Fuck ‘em. 

PLAYBOY: You take on social issues in your 
annual Comic Relief benefits. After ten 
years, how has the experience changed? 
GOLDBERG: It’s more fun than ever. It's a 
reunion. 

PLAYBOY: Is it occasionally difficult to 
hold your own in the company of Robin 
Williams and Billy Crystal? 

GOLDBERG: The boys have sort of nur- 
tured me along, and now I've finally 
come into my own with them. They're a 
tough duo. They are so fast. It took me 
unul three or four years ago to just bust 
in. They were always really good to me, 
encouraging me, going, Paw! you're on. 
I always considered myself the Vanna 
White of Comic Relief, because I do all 
the serious stuff—the information, the 
phone numbers. I finally busted loose 
with them. Now we run wild. These boys 
are always talking about their genitalia, 
and I finally said, “Look. Explain this to 
me. What is it about your dick? Why are 
we talking about it, yet again?" 

PLAYBOY: You're also on TV commercials 
now. Did you have qualms about becom- 
ing the MCI spokesperson? 

GOLDBERG: No, because MCI really docs 
a better job. 

PLAYBOY: You sound like a paid flack. 
GOLDBERG: They asked me if I wanted to 
be their spokesperson, and I made them 
jump through hoops. I said, "I want to 
see your paperwork. I want you to prove 
to me that you are the better company." 
"They did. I believe they are cheaper and 
their service is better. Having me as their 
spokesperson actually helped MCI, 
which I'm kind of proud of. It's why I 
will speak out for the things I believe in. 
People seem to listen a little bit. And 1 do 
want things to get better. 

PLAYBOY: Have they? 

GOLDBERG: Well, things got better and 
then they got worse. As far as I’m con- 
cerned, the Reagan years did more to 
destroy the fabric of the nation than any- 
thing. Dismantling a lot of those pro- 
grams with no safety net destroyed the 
morale of folks who were working so 
hard and struggling so long to make 
something happen. My daughter would 
come in from the park and Fd say, “Well, 
you're home early,” and she'd say, “Yeah, 
some guy was driving by and shots were 
flying.” I would be in conniptions be- 
cause I grew up in a time when shooting 
went on only in the movies. This idea 
that life doesn’t mean anything anymore 
comes from the top. Treat people as if 
they matter, care for them, tend them, 
help them grow up strong, give them 
good schools, child care, make them feel 
asif you care about them and show them 
that they are valued. Then they will be 
valued and will feel valued. The govern- 
ment has to get in there and roll up its 


sleeves. 


MAFIA MOLE conic jon page 140) 


Scarpa became more aggressive, doing everything he 
could to step up the tempo of the shooting war. 


In 1986 Scarpa was hospitalized witha 
bleeding ulcer. Distrustful of outsiders, 
he received blood from a member of his 
own crew. Soon enough he was back out 
on the street, running his empire and re- 
porting Mob gossip to De Vecchio. 

In the late Eighties Carmine Persico, 
boss of the Colombo family, went to jail 
for life. He wanted to continue running 
the family from his cell until his son 
Alphonse “Allie Boy” Persico, also in jail, 
was released and could take over. Mean- 
while, Colombo capo Victor “Little Vic” 
Orena, who was still on the street, be- 
came acting boss of the family and soon 
made it dear he wanted to take over. 

But Scarpa had another idea: He 
wanted to be the new boss and felt he 
could manipulate all the players to get 
the job. “I was the most powerful entity 
in the Colombo family and an author- 
itative figure who bowed to no one,” 
Scarpa said. 

By this time De Vecchio had become 
head of the Colombo squad. thanks in 
part to the intelligence that he had re- 
ceived from his mole. The advantages 


of having a mole at the top of a crime 
family were apparent to the FBI man. 
With De Vecchio's enthusiastic support, 
Scarpa set about trying to win the war of 
succession 

In the early going, the old suspicions 
about Scarpa resurfaced, 

In May 1990 Orena petitioned his ally 
and Gambino family boss John Gotti for 
help. Orena asked Gotti to order his ace 
hit man, Sammy “the Bull” Gravano, to 
eliminate Scarpa. Gravano became a 
government witness in 1992 and subse- 
quently testified that he searched for 
Scarpa for a week before Orena had a 
change of heart and called off the hit. 

About that same time Scarpa received 
another death sentence. He learned he 
was HIV-positive; he traced his illness to 
the blood transfusion he had received 
from his crew member in 1986. With his 
health failing, Scarpa filed a malpractice 
suit against the hospital. 

The Colombo family war officially be- 
gan on June 20, 1991 when there was a 
failed attempt on Orena’s life by Persico 
faction members. The following month, 


Scarpa attended the wake of an Orena 
loyalist, giving the impression that he 
was on that side. Little Vic was holding 
court, detailing what would happen to 
Persico adherents if they didn’t accept 
him as Colombo family boss. Then 
Scarpa told Carmine Persico, and the 
FBI, what had happened. 

In November 1991 Scarpa reported 
some incredible news to De Vecchio and 
to his friends in the Persico faction. 
(By this time, Scarpa had given up any 
pretense of backing Orena). Someone 
from the Orena faction, he claimed, had 
tried to kill him and had almost shot his 
daughter in the process. Scarpa’s report 
changed everything. The succession dis- 
pute turned intoa civil war that drew the 
attenuon of city and state gangbusters, 
in addition to the FBI. Among both law- 
men and hoods it was eventually be- 
lieved that Scarpa fabricated the story of 
the murder attempt in the hope of start- 
ing a shooting war. 

The battle between Orena and Persico 
adherents accelerated. Scarpa, an eager 
soldier in the Persico army, punched 
“666,” the mark of the beast, into 
friends’ beepers after he shot someone. 
One of his favorite boasts was that he 
loved the smell of gunpowder. 

Through the autumn and winter and 
into the spring of 1992, Scarpa, armed 
with a rifle, regularly cruised Brooklyn's 
Avenue U, the boundary between the 


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182 


He is an impeccable source, a man 
with personal knowledge of one of 
the FBI's great buried secrets. He 
was present during the Freedom 
Summer of 1964, when J. Edgar 
Hoover used Greg Scarpa and his 
Mafia methods to find the bodies of 
murdered civil rights workers. There 
are two things I 
must understand 
about Scarpa, he 
begins. “One, in 
his own curious 
way, he consid- 
ered himself to 
be a true patri- 
ot and a loyal 
American. And 
two, he ran an in- 
terracial crew. 
“You have to 
remember, at the 
time, the bureau 


KLAN BUSTER 


HOW GREGORY SCARPA SECRETLY HELPED THE FBI 


car. Meanwhile, there's an FBI agent 
lying in the front seat. He pops 
up and Scarpa introduces him as 
the ‘troubleshooter’ for the Imperial 
Wizard. On the drive to a safe house 
in Louisiana, Scarpa is painting this 
guy the picture. You know, ‘I was 
sent by the Imperial Wizard, and you 
local fuckin’ yo- 
kels fucked up 
but good. Says 
that he needs the 
entire outline, 
from the top. 
"But the guy is 
telling them sto- 
ries. Scarpa and 
the agent sense 
that they're be- 
ing bullshitted. 
Scarpa really 
kicks the shit out. 
of the guy, and 


is going nuts with 
the Mississippi 
thing. Hoover is 
beside himself, 
trying to find the 
bodies. And he 
can't. It's a giant 
media event, and 


The natian was horrified when three 
civil rights workers disappeared in 
1964. Scarpa told his FBI handler, 
"You need me to do anything, I'll do 
it.” Six wooks lator the bodios of Mi- 
chael Schwerner, James Chaney and 
Andrew Goadman (left to right be- 
law) were found in an earthen dam. 


finally sticks his 
gun in the guy's 
mouth and says, 
"One more time, 
pally, or else we 
kill you and leave. 
you out here." 
“Lo and be- 


the Old Man's 
embarrassed 
Lyndon John- 
son's even feeling 
the pressure. So 


one day Greg E. 
Scarpa makes < 

a proposition | í 
to FBI agent NEEDS 
Tony Villano. 


“The plan is this. The FBI had dis- 
covered what it thought was the 
weak link in the local Klan that 
whacked the three civil rights kids. It 
was a guy who owned an appliance 
shop. So they devised a cover story. 
Scarpa was to approach this guy, pos- 
ing as a representative of the Imper- 
ial Wizard, the Klan’s head man in 
Indiana. He was to frighten the guy 
into giving the details of the killings, 
ostensibly so the Imperial Wizard's 
lawyers would know how to deal with 
the pressure they were getting from 
law enforcement.” 

The plot worked. Scarpa arrived at 
the appliance shop near closing time 
and convinced the Klansman to help 
him heft his “broken” television from 
the backseat of his car. “And when 
the guy leans into the backseat, 
Scarpa sticks a .357 Magnum in his 


hold, the guy 
gives up the 
whole story. So 
they clean the 
guy up and make 
Y him write out the. 
entire scenario 
and then sign the 
f confession. They 

gave him $50 
and dropped him on the highway in 
Louisiana.” 

Later on, at O'Hare Airport, 
Scarpa was dutifully stopped by FBI 
agents, who tossed him and turned 
up the signed confession. “Then the 
agents go back to the Klan guy in 
Mississippi and break him.” 

And that is how the FBI discov- 
ered the bodies of the three civil 
rights workers buried beneath 17 
feet of Mississippi clay under an 
earthen dam. 

“Meanwhile, back at the ranch, 
Scarpa is bloated with patriotism, un- 
til the bureau stiffs him on the re- 
ward, I think it ended up giving him 
about a third of the money. And he 
was pissed. Told Villano that dealing 
with the feds was worse than dealing 
with the Mob. No honor, he said. 
Like that.” —B.D. 


warring factions, looking for Orena sol- 
diers to kill. 

Just before Christmas he came across 
Orena loyalist Vinny Fusaro hanging 
Christmas lights on his Brooklyn home. 
Scarpa blew him away. In another ep- 
isode, Scarpa concocted a plan to mur- 
der the mother of a gangster when the 
gangster became a government witness. 

As time went on Scarpa became more 
and more aggressive, doing everything 
he could to step up the tempo of the 
shooting war. When one of his gunmen 
was wounded, Scarpa called a meeting. 
With a dozen mobsters looking on, he 
congratulated the bandaged comrade 
for “taking one for the cause” and ex- 
horted more-timid crews to get out on 
the streets and to follow his aggressive 
example. 

When Scarpa killed a noncombatant 
by mistake, he remarked to one of his 
crew members that the victim “should 
have known better” than to have been 
mingling with Orena's people. 

In early 1992 Scarpa hatched a plot to 
call a truce and convene “peace talks" 
with the leaders of the top Orena crews. 
He proposed to murder the lot at the 
gathering. The plan never came off. 

By the time the shooting finally 
stopped in 1993, ten people had been 
killed and 17 wounded. Scarpa had ac- 
counted for at least three of the corpses. 

Agent De Vecchio played a curious 
role, to say the least, during the war. He 
received regular reports from Scarpa, 
who blamed the murders on various 
people. Did De Vecchio believe him? 
Only he can say, and he has remained 
silent. Did De Vecchio's supervisors ask 
any questions? The FBI isn’t talking, 
either. 

. 


In March 1992 both Scarpa and De 
Vecchio began to encounter problems- 
"The Brooklyn district attorney's office is- 
sued a warrant for Scarpa's arrest on a 
gun possession charge. Scarpa's custom- 
ary FBI protection began to evaporate. 
This warrant was not quashed. Scarpa 
went into hiding to avoid arrest. 

By this time several of De Vecchio's 
colleagues, who had their own inform- 
ers, had come to believe that Scarpa was 
the driving force behind the bloody 
gang war. In their view there was some- 
thing very troubling about the Scarpa- 
De Vecchio relationship. Some members 
of the Colombo squad decided to with- 
hold information from their boss, fear- 
ing that De Vecchio would pass it on to 
Scarpa. 

In March 1992 De Vecchio's superiors, 
alarmed by office rumors, ordered him 
to “close” Scarpa as a CI. No one protest- 
ed when De Vecchio reactivated him a 
month later. Exactly what happened in 
that bureaucratic passage remains a se- 
cret within the FBI. 

Lawman De Vecchio spoke with the 


fugitive Scarpa by telephone, according 
to FBI documents, at least once a month. 
“You'd think that old Lynn might have 
dropped us a line, no?" joked one Brook- 
lyn investigator. 

On May 22, 1992 a remarkable meet- 
ing convened at FBI headquarters in 
New York. Special Agent Christopher 
Favo, De Vecchio's second in command, 
later testified about what happened. 

“I went in to see Mr. De Vecchio,” Fa- 
vo testified. “I walked in, I gave my usu- 
al briefing—two shootings occurred, two 
Orena-side people were shot, they're not 
really sure who did it and so forth. As I 
started into that he slapped his hand on 
the desk and he said, ‘We're going to win 
this thing,’ and he seemed excited about 
it. He seemed like he didn't know who 
we were—the FBl—or that Scarpa was 
not on our side. A line, it was like a line 
had been blurred over who we were and 
what this was. E thought there was some- 
thing wrong. He was compromised. He 
had lost track of who he was. 

In August 1992 Scarpa showed up at a 
civil court in New York to testify in his 
malpractice suit against the hospital 
where he believed he had contracted the 
AIDS virus. He was arrested on the gun 
possession charge and on federal racke- 
tering and murder charges and re- 
leased on $1.2 million bı 

Scarpa eventually won a $300,000 judg- 
ment against thc hospital, but most of 
his other news was bad. On Decem- 
ber 29, 1992 a drug deal turned into a 
shoot-out near Scarpa’s Brooklyn home. 
Scarpa took a bullet in his left eye. Re- 
turning home, Scarpa poured himself a 
scoich in his living room before going to 
а hospital 20 miles away. 

His bail was revoked, and Scarpa went 
back to jail in early 1993. In May, with 
evidence from informers piling up 
against him, the caporegime pleaded 
guilty to three murders committed dur- 
ing the civil war, as well as attempts to 
murder nine other members of Orena's 
faction. He was sentenced on December 
15, 1993 to ten years in prison. 

Scarpa was just one of many gangsters 
who were in or on their way to jail, in- 
cluding a batch of Orena adherents who 
had been convicted of racketeering and 
murder with the help of information 
Scarpa supplied to De Vecchio. 

In January 1994, even as those prose- 
cuti ions continued, several of De Vec- 
colleagues filed an official report 
of their misgivings about the Scarpa-De 
Vecchio relationship. In June 1994 the 
FBI launched an internal investigation 
of De Vecchio that continues today. 

Scarpa was not a part of the investiga- 
tion. He died on June 8, 1994 in the fed- 
eral medical center in Rochester, Min- 
nesota. He was 66. His relationship with 
the FBI remained an official secret. 

Unofficially, the FBI agents and other 
law enforcement officials felt a sense of 


betrayal. Their own investigations con- 
vinced them that the good guys had se- 
cretly helped the bad guys, and a blame 
game started as Scarpa was dying. FBI 
Officials arrested Joseph Simone, a veter- 
an New York police detective and a 
member of the NYPD's Organized 
Crime Task Force, on charges that he 
leaked law enforcement secrets to mob- 
sters. His case went to trial before a fed- 
eral jury and, in October 1994, he was 
acquitted, Despite testimony on his be- 
half by four FBI agents, he was fired in 
May 1996 after an internal police investi- 
gation found him guilty of failing to re- 
port an alleged bribe overture and of 
tipping off mobsters. “I was railroaded 
by the FBI,” Simone said. “I'm taking 
the fall for crooked FBI agents.” 

It took until the autumn of 1994 for 
the Scarpa-De Vecchio relationship to 
become public. Then, during one of 
the many Mafia trials that were moving 
through the courts, a judge ordered 
prosecutors to turn over to defense at- 
torneys secret FBI files about Scarpa's 
dealings with the bureau. 

Since then, defense attorneys have 
scored some convincing victories. More 
than a dozen alleged Colombo soldiers, 
including two capos, have been acquit- 
ted in four separate trials in Brooklyn 
federal court. Morcover, several impris- 
oned mobsters are appealing their rack- 
eteering convictions based on what the 
FBI has been compelled to admit. One 
of them is Victor Orena, who received 
a life sentence. Orena charges that De 
Vecchio illegally passed information to 
Scarpa, some of which nearly caused 
him to be assassinated. 

Federal prosecutors deny that Scarpa 
was ever authorized by either the bureau 
or De Vecchio to commit crimes. 

De Vecchio’s superiors transferred 
him in 1994 from the Colombo squad to 
one that dealt with asset forfeiture while 
his attorney ridiculed the allegations and 
insisted that De Vecchio “never lost sight 
of what his job was.” In May 1996 he was 
called to testify at a hearing to determine 
whether Orena deserved a new trial. De 
Vecchio repeatedly invoked the Fifth 
Amendment. Meanwhile, the Justice De- 
partment's Public Integrity section 
vestigated the agent. In September 1996 
Lee Radek, chief of the criminal divi- 
sion, informed De Vecchio's lawyer that 
"the prosecution of De Vecchio in this 
matter is not warranted." An assistant 
US. attorney pointedly remarked that 
De Vecchio “was not cleared. The Public 
Integrity section has merely declined 
to prosecute.” De Vecchio retired from 
the FBI in October 1996, while an 
ternal administrative inquiry remained 
officially alive. It is doubtful that the 
public will ever know the full results of 
that investigation. 


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HOW 


STYLE 
Page 24: "Smokin' Jackets 


Dunhill, at Alfred Dunhill. 
By Brioni, 212-355-1940. 
By Fernando Sanchez, at 
Neiman Marcus, 310-550- 
5900. By Robert Talbott, at 
Robert Talbott and Nord- 
strom. “Suits in a Stretch”: 
By Donna Karan, at Mar- 
shall Field's. By Richard Tj- 
ler, at Neiman Marcus. By 
Gianfranco Ferre, at Stanley 
Korshak, 214-871-3600. By Hugo Boss, at 
Syd Jerome, 312-332-9095. “Hot Shop- 
ping": Board Bin, 208-726-1222. Ketchum 
Dry Goods, 208-726-9624. Lost River 
Ouifitters, 208-726-1708. Casino Club, 208- 
726-0901. “Easy Greasy": Pomades: By 
Body Shop, at Body Shop. By Aveda, 800- 
328-0849. Ву Orile. 800-976-7423. By 
American Crew, at salons. 


WIRED 

Pages 28-29: Racing simulator by Interac- 
tive 1/0, 714-921-0994. "Digital Snaps’ 
Cameras: By Nikon, 800-526 
dak, 800-283-6925. “Jock 
Motorola, 800-724-3638. Wild Things”: 
Modem by IBM (www.research.ibm.com). 
Receiver hy Global Village, 800-997-0697 
“Multimedia”: Software: From GT Interac- 
tive, 800-610-4847. By Corel, 800-455- 
3169. By Simon & Schuster Interactive, 800- 
910-0099. By Metatools, 800-472-9025. By 
Interplay, 800-468-3775. By Sony, 800-345- 
SONY. By Intuit, 800-446-8848. 


g Listen to the Eco”: Eco Traveler, 
800-752-7951. Vacations: From Earth- 
watch, 800-776-0188. From Wildland Ad- 
ventures, 800-345-4453. “Road Stuff”: Hol- 
ster and belt by Louis Vuitton, 800-285-2255. 
Alarm by Saitek Industries, 800-452-4377. 
Sanitizer from Steril- Touch, 800-865-8651. 


HEALTH & FITNESS 
Page 34: “Ab Fab or Fad”: Exercise bike by 
Schwinn, 800-724-9466. 


TUX REDUX 
Pages 92-97: Tuxedo and shirt by Valenti- 
no Uomo and tie by Valentino Cravalte, at 


ro 


- Saks. Pocket square by 
in = Robert Talbott, at Nordstrom. 
By Sulka, at Sulka. By Alfred Shoes by Donna Karan and 


BUY 


cufflinks by Faces of Time, at 
Saks. Coat and trousers by 
Donna Karan, at Neiman 
Marcus. Shirt by Calvin 
Klein, 212-292-9000. Tie by 
Robert Talbot, at Barneys. 
Shoes by Bruno Magli, 
800-624-5430. Shirt by 
Ermenegildo Zegna, at Ulti- 
mo, 312-787-0906. Tie and 
pocket square by Tino Cos- 
ma, 212-246-4005. Cuff links by Margo 
Manhattan, 212-925-0735. Stud by Gem 
Kingdom, at Fred Segal, 310-458-3557. 
Cuff links by Elizabeth Locke Jewels, NYC, 
212-944-1968. Shirt by Gui, at Saks. Tie 
by Calvin. Klein, 212-292-9000. Cuff links. 
by Tateossian Lid. of London, at Bullock $e 
Jones, 415-392-4243. Blazer and shirt by 
Nicole Farhi, at Field’s, 312-781-1000. 
Trousers by Baldessarini Hugo Boss, 610- 
992-1400. Tie by Robert Talbolt and socks 
by Mountain High Hosiery, at Nordstrom. 
Shoes by Bruno Magli, 800-624-5430. Cuff 
links by U+/, at Big Drop, 212-505-0144. 
Tuxedo and turtleneck by Cerruti, at Davis 
for Men, 312-440-0016. Shoes by Donna 
Karan, at Saks, 212-753-4000. Suit, shirt 
and tie at Polo/Ralph Lauren, 800-494- 
7656, Suit and shirt by Hugo Boss, at 
Bloomingdale's. Tie by Valentino Cravatte, 
at Neiman Marcus, Lapel stud and cuff 
links by Gem Kingdom, at Fred Segal, 310- 
458-3557. Suit and shirt by Gucci, at Saks. 
Tie by Calvin Klein, 212-292-9000. 


PARTY TOYS 
Pages 120-121: Beverage system, 800- 
819-5934. Camera, 800-622-6372. CD 
changer, 818-998-7322. Palincorder, 201- 
348-9090. Karaoke, 310-327-9100. 


ELEVENTH-HOUR SANTA 

Pages 141-143: Lamp, 773-342-7865. 
Watch, at jewelry stores. Golf bag, 800- 
922-1944. Golf clubs, 800-997-7462. 
Liqueurs, at better liquor stores. Fabergé 
set, 203-761-8882. Monitor, 800-767- 
4675. Game system, 800-255-3700. 
Razor, 800-483-4973. Recorder, 800-222- 
7669. Camera, 800-225-1899. 


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Does God Have Orgasms? 

(continued from page 90) 
Two people have a hard time meeting 
soul-to-soul today. But in bed there is, or 
can be, soul contact. God is potentially in 
every orgasm because God wants us to 
be free, open and joyful. When two peo- 
ple unite in love, they are offering their 
portion of God to each other. 

The creative energy of the universe is 
sexual, 

Being born in India, I was not raised 
on the same metaphysics taught in the 
West, and the Judeo-Christian portrayal 
of God as a solitary male sitting up in the 
ky runs counter to thousands of years of 
wisdom, primarily from the East, that 
makes God all-inclusive, both male and 
female. The union of these two aspects is 
an act of cosmic passion from which the 
universe is born; therefore the whole 
cosmos came about as a sexual creation. 

In spiritual terms there is only one 
marriage that has ever taken place: the 
union of God and God, In India the 
male deity (Siva) is often shown with his 
beloved consort (Shakti). When these 
two poles meet, passion flies between 
them. But this passion must be a form of 
playfulness, for God knows in reality 
that male and female are one. There is 
only one divine purpose behind the di 
sion of God into two sexes, and that is 
the joy of sexual union. 

Sexual union imitates divine creation. 
What you express through your passion 15 
God's love for God. 

‘The difference between a divine love 
affair and an earthly one is the dif- 
ference between need and play. Some 
amount of need enters into every rela- 
tionship in the material world—survival 
is too pressing an issue for us to feel that. 
our life is pure play. But in spirit you on- 
ly play. Your purpose is not to survive 
but to express every grain of passion that 
love arouses in you. You were created to 
create, and what you use in your cre- 
ation is sexual energy. 

"The psychological link between sexual 
energy and art is by now well estab- 
lished, and we are not shocked by the 
lusty painter or sculptor. In ancient In- 
dia this connection was much broader. It 
was held that the life force, or Prana, en- 
tered the human body on seven levels. 
"These levels were envisioned as wheels, 
or chakras, aligned up and down the 
spine. The bottom three chakras, ap- 
proximately situated at the tip of the 
spine, the genitals and the solar plex- 
us, are concerned with survival, sexual 
drive and will. The top three chakras, at 
the crown of the head, between the eye- 
brows and at the base of the throat, con- 
cern knowledge of God, intuition and 
creativity. Between these two regions 
is the heart chakra, which is meant to 
unite the higher and lower energies 
through love. 

All of us find ourselves caught 


between two worlds, striving to make the 
higher and lower energies meet. This is 
the spiritual marriage that the path to 
love makes possible. Whether I want to 
or not, I act out of my lower chakras, like 
everybody else. There are mornings 
when 1 furiously want to see my enemies 
destroyed; sexual insecurity, loneliness 
and deprivation have been as much a 
part of my life as anyone else’s. But the 
answer is not revenge or retreat into sur- 
vival mode; nor is it pretending to be 
sanctihed and above such base concerns. 
The answer to man’s double nature, 
high and low, lies in the heart. We are 
meant to unite ourselves through love. 
In my cynical moments, I am tempted 
to think of America as a society deter- 
mined to live out of the two lowest 
chakras, survival and sex. Incredible dis- 
plays of violence and aggression are con- 
sidered a normal reaction in this coun- 
try. Far more conflicts seem to be ended 
with a bullet than with compassion or 
forgiveness. When the two lower chakras 
are activated—which means when they 
are triggered by fear—people cannot see 
beyond survival. Sex becomes a matter 
of my woman, my orgasm, my right to 
treat everyone else with no love whatev- 
er. It is frightening to put oneself for- 
ward as a spiritual person in such an en- 
vironment, and even more difficult to 
follow sex from its lower expressions to 
higher ones that our culture has not 


taught us about. 

Hope belongs to the upper chakras, 
for as violent and irrational as humans 
can be, we are also the only creatu 
who understand God, who make art, 
who intuit the truth. To me, there is sex- 
ual energy in the Sermon on the Mount 
as well as on the ceiling of the Sistine 
Chapel, for both express spirit through a 
unique creation. To someone who can 
tap the higher energies of the creative 
force, there is no question of attack, re- 
pression, guilt or shame. Life contains 
too much joy and freedom to waste it out 
of fear and threat. 


No one deserves to be burdened with. 
the phrase "the perfect couple," but 
Marilyn and Kirk come close. Now in 
their late 40s, they have successfully 
worked in the same small magazine busi- 
ness for 12 years while raising a family 
and remaining in love with each other. 
“We share some values that keep us re- 
al,” Marilyn explained. “We treat each 
other as equals. We make sure we com- 
municate and don't hold things in. We 


ings. It’s a miracle to get that far nowa- 
days, when relationships have become a 
disposable commodity.” 

I agreed. The only trouble was the 
question that followed. “So if the sex isn't 
quite there anymore—well, almost not 


there at all—isn’t that OK?" It was Kirk 
who had asked the question. Marilyn 
looked away, and though I heard the in- 
security in his voice, I couldn't tell if she 
was as sad as I imagined her to be. 

“Are you asking me if it’s normal not 
to have sex after 20 years of marriage?” I 
asked. “Normal is whatever makes both 
of you feel happy. Having sex once a day 
ог once a year both fall into the statistical 
norm, as far as that goes.” 

“We don’t miss it,” Marilyn said. “I 
mean, our intimate life is private, and if 
this is what we've agreed on——” Нег 
voice trailed away, and this time the sad- 
ness was unmistakable, 

“There's nothing wrong with either of 
us,” Kirk interjected defensively. “We're 
Just not kids anymore. I mean, there’s 
only so much fantasy you can live on, 
and a lot of other things become impor- 
tant. We almost have to pencil sex into 
our schedules." 

“So no one's complaining,” I said. At 
this they both sat back, not quite agree- 
ing or disagreeing. I met Marilyn and 
Kirk as patients years ago in Boston; 
they later attended meditation weekends 
and seminars on healing. We had run in- 
to each other on a retreat in Colorado. 
"The fact that sex came up at all surprised 
us—clearly some things were boiling be- 
neath the surface. 

“Let's reframe the situation," I sug- 
gested. "Let's forget that you two have 


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ever had sex. If today were the first day 
you decided to sleep together, what 
would you want the sex to be like?” 

Marilyn laughed nervously; Kirk kept 
quiet. After a moment, neither had 
replied. 

“Your silence says a lot, doesn’t it?" 
1 said. 

“You mean that we don't know what 
good sex is anymore?” Marilyn asked 
anxiously. 

“Not at all," I replied. “It says you are 
at a crossroads. Sex is a natural energy. 
We shape it according to what we want it 
to do. Think of sexual energy as a kind 
of modeling clay that the psyche can 
mold any way it wants. What do most 
people want? Pleasure, obviously, but 
also other things—reassurance, close- 
ness, power, thrills, release. Hundreds of 
needs get expressed through one or- 
gasm, and that is the common thread— 
need. Feople use sex to fulfill needs, and 
when these needs come to an end, the 
sex often isn't there anymore, because its 
foundation, its reason for existence, has 
vanished." 


The couple looked more relaxed. 
They sensed that this wasn't going to be 
a session about fixing themselves or ap- 
portioning blame. “I think you're right," 
Kirk said. "I'm very competitive, always 
have been, and when I first had sex, I 
compared myself with other men—I 
couldn't help it. I had to know how I was 
doing, whether I had it right. This went 
on through college, until I got married 
and my insecurities settled down." 

"You're coming from an honest place 
if you can say that," I remarked. "Perfor- 
mance is a tremendous drive in most 
men, and the anxiety aroused by not 
performing well exposes a huge amount 
of need—the need to have power, the 
need for approval, the need to be as 
good as everybody else. In the past ten 
years performance has taken a new twist. 
Women have begun to insist on their 
right to have an orgasm, and this has 
burdened men with the need to perform 
for them as well. But taking responsibili- 
ty for two orgasms instead of one has on- 
ly added to the anxiety." 

"I knew that Kirk had to perform well 


"It's sad. In the romantic old days we would usually surprise 
couples on desktops." 


to feel good about himself,” Marilyn 
said. “But that’s what I mean about 
equality. 1 told him that my feclings, in- 
cluding my orgasmic feelings, were not 
up to him. He was the object of my de- 
sire but not in charge of it. My needs 
weren't the same as his. 1 much more 
wanted to feel that I belonged, that he 

ired me, that I could count on being 


honest people. By any account they 
should still have been having mutually 
enjoyable sex—but they weren't. “I 
think you are remarkable in not using 
sex for the kinds of basic needs most 
people bring to bed,” I said. "A marriage 
can last decades with both people re- 
peating the same rituals over and over. 
Sex gets stuck because it never finds a 
new use. So again, if you had just decid- 
ed to go to bed for the first time, what 
would you want sex to be like?” 

This time I didn't wait for the awk- 
ward pause. “The reason you don't 
know how to use sex in a new way is cul- 
tural—none of us were taught much 
about the fact that sex can have a spiritu- 
al dimension. Beyond basic need, be- 
yond pleasure, sex has tremendous un- 
tapped potential. Its higher purpose is 
to take you outside the boundaries of 
time and space to a place where you are 
love. Instead of feeling anxious and inse- 
cure about yourself, which sex brings 
out in so many people. you can use sex 
to reassure yourself of your reality.” 

1 realized that these people had never 
heard sex described in this way, and 
therefore I went back to basics. Every- 
one has a deep need to love and be 
loved. The drive toward love is built into 
our genes, as is the instinctual drive for 
sex. The difficulty is that we have kept 
these two fundamental energies on dif- 
ferent levels: 

Love is sacred, overseen by God, and 
not of this world. 

Sex is profane, overseen by someone 
other than God, and too much of this 
world. 

I won't say, for the sake of symmetry, 
that love is overseen by God and sex is 
overseen by the devil, though countless 
people, including many devoutly reli- 
gious people, believe that. I prefer to say 
that sex has been left out of God's hands, 
which, of course, is a logical impossibili- 
ty, because nothing is outside the range 
of God if he is omnipotent, omnipresent 
and omniscient. The separation of sex 
and love makes no sense; it is our own 
guilty and ashamed minds that have 
forced such obviously connected ener- 
gies into separate compartments. The 
seven chakras demark not seven box- 
es but a single flow of life. But we 
don't bring this flow with us when we 
have sex. 

“If you brought all of yourself to bed 
in the sexual act,” 1 said, "sex would be 
incredible because it would be complete. 


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You would not be just the performer, the 
pleasure seeker, the dutiful spouse or the 
insecure seeker of approval. Those are 
all fragments born of need. The com- 
plete you is far different: It uses sex for 
passion; not just passion in the sense of 
arousal, but a passion for life. Passion is 
who you are; you've lost it only because 
you've squeezed yourself into boxes. You 
Sec yourself as this package of flesh and 
bones limited to a brief slice of time and 
a tiny sliver of space. That isn't you, not 
as created by God. You are power, intel- 
ligence, awareness, creativity. Your po- 
tential is infinite, and yet you bring a 
fraction of this potential to the sexual 
act. Don't you realize that every sexual 
union is an invitation to the cosmic 
dance?” 

“But what does that mean?” Kirk 
asked. “As beautiful as this sounds, what 
do we do?” 

Naturally that is the question that al- 
ways comes up, because releasing sexual 
energy into new regions of expression is 
exactly what people cant figure out how 
to do. My answer is to fall in love again, 
for if encounters with spirit are rare in 
our society, being in love isn’t. Start here; 
this is the beginning of your path. In a 
different age, the most fleeting of infatu- 
ations had spiritual meaning; the near- 
ness of God in the beloved was taken se- 
riously. Since the advent of modern 
psychology with Freud, however, falling 
in love has been reduced to a temporary 
flight of fancy, if not insanity; the sense 
of ecstasy that is part of falling in love 
isn’t considered realistic. We are told to 
accept the temporary nature of r 
mance. This has meant tossing out as il- 
lusion some of the most remarkable 
things that happen when you fall in love. 

“How did you feel when you were first 
infatuated with each other?” I asked 
Marilyn and Kirk. “Put yourself in that 
space again, and remember. Didn't you 
feel special and privileged? Wasn't there 
a sense of wonder that you had been 
picked, out of so many people, to be 
loved? With this sense of uniqueness 
came the feeling that you were safe and 
protected, that nothing would ever hurt 
you again. And in your most rapturous 
moments, I’m sure you felt immortal 
and invulnerable—your love would last 
forever.” 

“But we aren't unique and immortal,” 
Kirk protested. “Those feelings pas 

hat's because the opening closed, 
said. “What lovers feel is real—it is a 
glimpse of spiritual truth. In God's eyes 
you are unique and privileged. Your ex- 
istence is immortal; you exist to express 
the truth of your soul. Our society per- 
mits us few opportunities to grasp these 
facts, and falling in love is one of them.” 

I suggested that orgasm is a return to 
that status of spiritual privilege. In 
everyday life romance fades; the fan- 
tasies are replaced by mundane reality. 
It's hard to be a god or goddess when 


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188 


the baby needs changing. But in sex we 
can recapture the moment of openness 
when freedom, timelessness and unique- 
ness were ours. In place of Freud's “pro- 
jected fantasy,” love might make us as 
immortal and invulnerable, as special 
and safe as passionate lovers feel. 

“Let me put it simply,” I said. “You 
have a choice in what to do with sex, in- 
cluding to ignore it altogether. But no 
matter how much passion has faded, you 
can always choose to make sex what itre- 
ally is—a blessing. The sense of delight, 
uniqueness and blessing felt by lovers 
has its own reality, but you must find it 
within. Love and spirit are both states of 
inner truth. I am proposing that the two 
can be joined.” 

But how do you fall in love with some- 
body you've known for years? In the 
Odes of Solomon, it says that God can 
make “all things new; you have showed 
me all things shining.” You cannot take 
old, stale love and make it new with- 
out the spiritual ingredient. In spiri- 
tual terms, two people fall in love be- 
cause they suddenly see with new eyes. 
Through a magical shift in perception, 
an utterly ordinary person becomes fas- 
cinating, an everyday pair of eyes be- 
witches, a voice that sounds not unusual 
to other people sings with mysterious 
music. Saints have a way of seeing these 
things clearly, and Saint Augustine said, 
“I am in love with love.” Exactly—to 
fall in love anew. you must fall in love 
with love. 

How does this happen? The first and 
most important requirement is open- 
ness. “You're both incredibly lucky,” I re- 
marked to Marilyn and k, “because 


you haven't shut down the delicate 
process of love. You still notice each oth- 
er and want to be sensitive to the signals 
the other gives off. Most people have 
shut down these signals, turning person- 
al encounters into tiny rituals, so that 
every day is basically a repetition of the 
day before. Spirit isn't present, not be- 
cause it isn't there but because people 
have turned their backs on it.” 
° 


Every day we ай feel the faint impulse 
to express love. But too often these im- 
pulses get quashed. It's so easy to hold 
back the gesture of appreciation, the 
gentle word, the soft touch, the special 
look. What does this indicate? It indi- 
cates that we have turned outward, seek- 
ing fulfillment in external things such as 
career, status and money. The mind is so 
geared to these externals that we may 
forget a simple truth: Nothing can sub- 
stitute for love. The reason that the 
scriptures say “God is love” is that love is 
the ultimate power in the universe. It is 
our reason for being. 

The fading of sex is always a fading of 
love. 

Love doesn't stay around if you don’t 
trust it; it doesn't grow if you don't nur- 
ture it. So to unite sex and spirit isn't a 
choice. If you want to live in the light of 
love. you must face the spiritual mean- 
ing of sex, draw it out, build upon it. 
The alternative is that «ex herames a 
ulus, albeit a pleasant one, and stim- 
uli always fade. You cannot give yourself 
enough thrilling orgasms to make up for 
the absence of love; this, and nowhere 
else, is where the light is. 


‘Aha! Caught with your hand in the cookie jar again!” 


If you doubt the spiritual significance 
of sex, consider the following list of ex- 
periences (freely adapted from my book 
The Path to Love) that many people have 
during the sexual act: 

A flowing feeling throughout the 
body. 

A glow in the heart before, during or 
after orgasm. 

A sense of expansion, as if you extend 
beyond your body. 

Feeling that you have merged with 
your beloved. 

Lightness in the region of your heart. 

Seeing blue or white light around 
your body or around your beloved's. 

A carefree fecling, laughter, the lifting 
of anxiety and of daily worries. 

A feeling of weightlessness, as if you 
might float away. 

A feeling of ecstasy or bliss. 

Feeling blessed or connected to God. 

A penetrating sweetness. 

‘The realization, "I am love.” 

Any or all of these could occur during 
orgasm or before or after, Look over the 
list and mark those experiences you've 
had personally. They aren't accidental; 
they indicate that you have learned to 
use sexual energy to create higher states 
of awareness. If you have had certain 
experiences only once, these are at the 
envelope of your inner growth. The ex- 
periences you have had more often, es- 
pecially if recently, constitute the growth 
you have been integrating into your lov- 
ing personality. 

Love is the key word here, for these 
aren't supernatural or paranormal expe- 
riences. They are the same intimations 
of spirit reported by saints in their ec- 
stasies and by spiritual masters of every 
age and country. In Kirk's case, he said 
that a sensation of lightness had oc- 
curred several times in the past, as well 
as a sense of blissful love that went 
beyond his personal emotions for his 
partner. 

“This is your link to spirit,” I ex- 
plained. “Whether you are conscious of 
it or not, you are walking the path to 
love—all of us are. What impels you is 
pleasure, delight, yearning. You want to 
bathe in the supreme love of the divine, 
and for an instant, orgasm gives you that 
experience. But the fulfillment is brief 
and fleeting, only a glimpse of the real 
thing. The real thing isn't so different, 
however. Union with God is timeless and 
blissful, beyond the confines of the body, 
all-enveloping. Here on earth we taste of 
these things in cur flesh and blood—that 
is why we are here.” 

Which brings us to the question of 
God's orgasms. Does she have them? 
Whatare they like? I hope it is no longer 
so alarming to suggest that the big bang 
was as orgasmic for God as the pun sug- 
gests. Creation surrounds us in infin- 
ite complexity, but within is a tiny seed 
of sweetness, the ecstasy of love. If this 
seed were not present, we would have 


no reason to follow love as passionately 
as we all do. Our lapses into nonlove are 
grievous; the violence we do against the 
spirit of life is cause for deep shame. But 
there is an inevitability to the union of 
flesh and spirit. because the universe is 
God's way of showing his spirit 

We have deprived sex of the one thing it 
cannot do without: its spiritual dimension. 

Our longing for love actually reflects 
God's longing for us. I look out my win- 
dow and see the splash of flowers against. 
the sky, and in each flower there is more 
than my eyes can see. There is sun and 
rain, wind and rainbow. There is the his- 
tory of life and the eternal flow that 
brought creation to this point, where my 
life and the life of a flower can merge. 
We do so in longing for each other, I 
think. God wants me to see this flower as 
much as I want to look upon it. One as- 
pect of God feasts in delight on another 

How much truer this must be between 
a man and a woman. Two portions of 
God are feasting upon each other, ex- 
changing delight in their existence, and 
yet knowing deep down that their exis- 
tence is one. The rest is play. God likes to 
play at seducing herself; she likes to peek. 


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into a pair of beautiful eyes and pretend 
they are someone else’s. In reality there 
is no one else. Falling in love is actually 
a temporary state of spiritual liberation, a 
glimpse of who you really are in God. The ec- 
static feelings that flow between lovers, 
their sense of being uniquely protected, 
their belief in a timeless state of being— 
all these are spiritual realities. Indeed, if 
we consult the Kama Sütra (which means 
“the teaching about desire”), we discover 
that orgasm itself is a release into a state 
that is timeless, free of ego and totally 
natural. Spirit and flesh meet in a mo- 
ment of release that represents a glimpse 
of immortality. 

The great Sufi poet Rûmî put it much 
more elegantly when he declared, 


By God, when you see your beauty 
You'll be the idol of yourself. 


To be spiritual, you have to be every- 
thing that you are, omitting nothing. 
Within everyone there is light and shad- 
ow, good and evil, love and hate. The 
play of these opposites is what constant- 
ly moves life forward; the river of life 
expresses itself in all its changes. Sex 
between men and women can be the 
ugliest, most shameful and impersonal 
action imaginable, yet that will never tar- 
nish its spiritual promise. Bring your- 
self—nothing less and nothing more—to 
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Prohibition was bad policy. Waging a war on drugs is 
another bad policy, but it is selling well now. 


PELTA TBO 


Szasz 

(continued from page 128) 

which it implies, are two of the most ba- 
sic human rights, few Americans now 
support them. Most people are so pho- 
bic about having a real option to kill 
themsclves—casily, painlessly and sure- 
ly—that, according to opinion polls, they 
support prohibiting public libraries 
from stocking books that describe how to 
commit suicide. 

Because we have a free market in 
food, we can buy all the bacon, eggs and 
ice cream we want and can afford. If we 
had a free market in drugs, we could 
similarly buy all the barbiturates, chloral 
hydrate and morphine we wanted and 
could afford. We would then be free to 
die—easily, comfortably and surely— 
without any need for recourse to death 
doctors or violent means of suicide. 

Our drug control policies are emblem- 
айс of the principle that pharmacologi- 
cal self-determination is a form of men- 
tal illness (“substance abuse”) and that 
free trade in plants and chemicals the 
government labels as “drugs” is inimical 
to the health of the body politic (“the 
drug problem”). We cannot come to 
grips with the issues assodated with the 
use of legally forbidden (so-called recre- 
ational) drugs without also addressing 
the issue associated with the use of med- 
ically permitted (so-called prescription) 
drugs. To buy a chain saw, we do not 
need permission from a state-licensed 
tree-removal expert. It is enough that 
we know how to operate the instrument 
and assume responsibility for its use. By 
the same token, we do not need pre- 
scription laws. Repealing them would 
not deprive anyone of any rights or pro- 
tections. The person who does not know 
what drug he needs or wants could still 
consult a physiaan. That is all the self- 
protection a competent adult needs for 
dealing with drugs. After all, drugs are 
just one class among many dangerous 
artifacts in our environment. Fire, elec- 
tricity, cars, household appliances and 
countess other products of human in- 
ventiveness are also dangerous. We ac- 
cept the risks they pose because we be- 
lieve that, in the long run, they make our 
lives healthier and safer, 

Our obsession with the necessity for 
drug controls is closely intertwined with 
our attitudes toward self-harm and 
health care on the one hand and, on the 
other hand, with our attitudes toward 
the manufacturer's and provider's tort 
liability for substances and interventions 
classified as “medical.” In contemporary 
190 medical-political discourse, the issue of 


free will is raised only to assert its ab- 
sence and hence the unsuitability of 
market relations in connection with 
drugs and health care. It makes no sense 
to let people make important choices if 
we believe they are unable to choose, be- 
cause they are the victims of addiction or 
mental illness. 

Failure to appreciate that, in a free so- 
ciety, the government's foremost duty is 
to protect individuals from others who 
might harm them—indeed, replacing 
it with the duty to protect individuals 
from harming themselves—makes the 
prospect of repealing our drug laws a 
mirage. This misranking of the proper 
function of the state has already inflicted 
a gricvous wound on our body politic: It 
has undermined Americans’ attachment 
to limited government; converted the 
principle of caveat emptor into that of 
caveat vendor and tort law 
strument of economic redistributioi 
confused and perverted the medical cı 
teria of disease and treatment (by 
defining certain “bad” choices as dis- 
eases and certain "good" coercions as 
treatments); and redefined the relation- 
ship between drug seller and drug buyer 
from a contract between responsible 
adults into a victimizer-victim relation- 
ship (categorizing the former as a crimi- 
nal, the latter as a patient). 

I doubt we shall be able or willing to 
re-embrace a free market in drugs until 
the drug war causes usa great deal more 
suffering and until we are willing to at- 
tribute that suffering to drug laws rather 
than to drugs. In real estate, successful 
marketing is said to require three things: 
location, location, location. The same is 
true for political programs. Each enter- 
prise requires recipients interested in 
buying what the seller is selling. This 
probably explains why “good” and “bad” 
policies sell equally well, depending on 
the location. Prohibition and National 
Socialism were bad policies, but each was 
popular in its place and time. Waging a 
war on drugs is another bad policy, but it 
is selling well now. Stopping the drug 
war will seem like a good policy when 
the cultural climate changes—when 
politicians will profit from promoting 
gambling. Then, and only then, will the 
pundits and the people discover the 
validity of the argument against drug 
prohibition. 


Schmoke 

(continued from page 128) 

percentages should be reversed. This 
approach also would free law enforce- 


ment officials to concentrate on putting 
high-level drug traffickers and violent 
drug lords behind bars. 

Aviable drug medicalization strategy 
must do three things: It must increase 
substance-abuse prevention efforts, offer 
a continuum of substance-abuse treat- 
ment on demand and provide mainte- 
nance for hard-core users, 

"The first component of the medical- 
ization model І envision is relatively 
noncontroversial. Just about everyone 
agrees that the best way to halt drug 
abuse is to prevent it in the first place. 
We also know that good prevention pro- 
grams work. So we need to fund more of 
them, and we especially need to direct 
prevention efforts at high school drop- 
outs and other youths who are at high 
risk for drug abuse. 

But for thousands of Americans, pre- 
vention efforts come too late. Those who 
are already addicted don't need mes- 
sages on the dead end of drug addiction; 
they need a way out of the dead end. We 
must significantly increase the number 
of treatment slots for those addicts who 
have made the decision to seek help 
or who have been ordered into treat- 
ment by courts. Treatment would in- 
clude halfway houses, short-term and 
long-term detox programs and metha- 
done maintenance. 

Studies have found that treatment is 
cost-effective and that those who are in 
treatment or who complete treatment 
are much less likely to commit crimes or 
to engage in high-risk behavior. They 
are also much more likely to become 
productive members of society than 
their drug-using counterparts. For these 
reasons, advocating for programs that 
help people get off drugs likewise gener- 
ates little controversy. 

‘The fact remains that there are hard- 
core addicts who continually fail treat- 
ment or who refuse to go into treatment. 
I believe that we should consider allow- 
ing health professionals to provide ad- 
dicts in this category with carefully mon- 
itored maintenance doses of the 
substance to which they are addicted, or 
a substitute drug. This is the third com- 
ponent of the medicalization model I en- 
vision, and it is, not surprisingly, the 
most controversial. 

Essentially, 1 am suggesting a federally 
funded managed care system for drug 
addicts that would enable them to re- 
ceive treatment and, if necessary, main- 
tenance for their habits. The govern- 
ment, not criminal traffickers, would 
control the price, distribution, purity 
and access to addictive substances, which 
it already does with prescription drugs. 

Lam not suggesting that drugs simply 
be made available to anyone. Under a 
maintenance program, drugs would not 
be dispensed to nonusers, and it would 
be up to a health professional to deter- 
mine whether or not a person request- 
ing maintenance was an addict. 


At the same time, we must recognize 
the tremendous benefits that could come 
from providing drug maintenance for 
addicts through a managed care pro- 
gram. These addicts would be under the 
watch of health care providers, enabling 
them to receive important preventive- 
and primary-care services. Thats sel- 
dom the case today. When and if these 
addicts decide they are ready to stop us- 
ing drugs, they would have easy access to 
treatment and counseling. They would 
receive carefully monitored, unadulter- 
ated doses of their drug, greatly decreas- 
ing the risk of overdoses. And by receiv- 
ing noninjectable forms of their drug or 
injectable forms under sterile condi- 
tions, they would greatly reduce their 
risks of acquiring HIV through dirty 
needles and of passing the deadly virus 
to their sex partners. 

Maintenance for hard-core addicts 
would provide other compelling benefits 
to society. Most important: If addicts 
have legal access to drugs, they won't 
have to turn to crime to support their 
habits. And if addicts could receive their 
drugs at far lower cost from health pro- 
fessionals, drug dealers would be forced 
out of business. Government-sponsored 
drug maintenance would take most of 
the profits out of drug trafficking—and 
it’s the profits that drive the crime, 

One question remains: What are we 
waiting for? 


Elders 

(continued from page 128) 

and local jails and more than 3 million 
more who are court-supervised. In 
1994, one out of three black men be- 
tween the ages of 20 and 29 was incar- 
cerated or under court supervision. 
Drug-related offenders make up about 
60 percent of federal prisoners. Average 
drug sentences in federal prisons exceed 
the average sentences for larceny, rape, 
even manslaughter. Each week the U. 
must add 1000 prison beds for its rapid- 
ly growing inmate population. We 
prison a higher percentage of our 
zens than Russia did under communism, 
more than South Africa did under 
apartheid. 

* Adolescent drug use has been in- 
creasing for the past three years, with 
hard-core drug use remaining stable (or 
in some cases increasing) and a decline 
observed only in occasional drug use. In 
1995, 35 percent of new nonpediatric 
AIDS cases were born at the point of a 
dirty needle, according to the Centers 
for Disease Control and Prevention, par- 
ticularly in African American and Latino 
communities, where the spread of the 
disease is most rapid. 

In the same week in 1982 that the 
much-publicized renewed drug war was 
announced, the National Research Coun- 
cil issued an underpublicized report ti- 
dled An Analysis of Marijuana Policy. The 


paper recommended that the states ex- 
periment with a variety of methods for 
decriminalizing, regulating and taxing 
marijuana. After all, we have practiced 
the political drug war approach without 
success; now is the time to heed the ad- 
vice of scientific experts and begin treat- 
ing drug abuse as a public health prob- 
lem rather than only as a criminal justice 
problem. 

‘Three great advantages of decriminal- 
izing marijuana are: (1) it could be regu- 
lated and taxed, (2) we would not have 
the burden of spending billions of dol- 
lars on the incarceration of users or on 
government and police services used for 
the prevention of crime, and (3) it would 
provide a low-risk opportunity to allow 
experimentation with new models of 
drug control. 

For the past decade, marijuana users 


have accounted for 22 percent to 45 per- 
cent of drug arrests. In 1994, according 
to data from the FBI, 481,098 people 
were arrested for marijuana offenses— 
that’s one arrest every 66 seconds—and 
80 percent of those arrests were for pos- 
session alone. We spend $1.2 billion an- 
nually just to keep an estimated 40,000 
Americans incarcerated for marijuana 
offenses. Marijuana prohibition costs 
the American taxpayers approximately 
$8 billion annually. 

While there is no biological or chemi- 
cal connection between the use of mari- 
juana and more dangerous drugs, they 
do share a common marketplace. By 
medicalizing hard drug use, the demand 
in the illegal drug market will be re- 
duced. (In fact, heavy users drive the 
market, providing enormous profits for 
the drug cartels.) This step alone would 


"It's a Christmas card from our bank, with 
a note deducting $15 from our checking account to cover 
the cost of sending it.” 


191 


PLAYBOY 


192 


do more to put illegal drug dealers out 
of business than all we have done in the 
past 14 years of our war on drugs. 

It is not necessary to reinvent the 
wheel. An intelligent government 
would, at the very least, study the 
competent methods of others, which 
include: 

* Providing comprehensive health 
education as an integral part of our 
school curriculum, replacing the usual 
one-shot, hit-or-miss programs present- 
ly offered. 

* Recognizing drug addiction as a- 
medical problem. 

© ‘Training private physicians to treat 
people with substance abuse problems, 
thereby making drug treatment part 
of basic health care and more readily 
accessible. 

* Increasing the number of physi- 
cians and clinics that can dispense meth- 
adone, thereby decreasing crime rates 
related to heroin abuse. 

• Experimenting with substitute 
drugs for cocaine abusers—particularly 
long-acting amphetamines—thereby 
giving them an alternative to criminality 

* Developing a needle exchange pro- 
gram for intravenous drug users to pre- 
vent the spread of AIDS. The evidence 


demonstrates that needle exchange does 
not increase drug use and does reduce 
the spread of HIV. 

© Urging police to prioritize drug en- 
forcement by focusing on violent offend- 
ers and large-scale dealers, rather than 
spending resources on low-level, nonvio- 
lent offenders. 

© Developing a drug court to ensure 
that drug offenders are given medical 
treatment—usually outpatient care is 
sufficient—as an inexpensive and more 
effective alternative to incarceration. 

* Developing a system to aid drug of- 
fenders in their education and employ- 
ment needs as part of rehabilitation. 

The combination of these two steps— 
(1) medicalizing hard drugs by putting 
physicians and health professionals in 
charge and (2) decriminalizing marijua- 
na—will reduce the vast majority of our 
nation's drug-related problems. We will 
save billions of dollars and starve the 
crime fueled by drug trafficking, just as 
other countries have done. 

In my dream of saving anywhere be- 
tween $13 billion and $40 billion per 
year by eliminating the war on drugs, 
1 would then reallocate the greatest 
amount of funds to education. One rca- 
son for drug use is that the victims need 


“The house, of course, is in my name.” 


to remove themselves from a reality that 
is too harsh. If that reality were im- 
proved with good education, hope for 
housing, hope for full employment and 
medical care, and hope for the future, 
then escaping reality might not seem 
necessary. 

We must involve the entire communi- 
ty in reinvesting our resources in the 
medical treatment of drug users, and in 
the education of young people. We must 
minimize the present inefficacious in- 
vestment of policing drug users. 

We must stop politicizing medical 
problems. We must stop building prisons 
instead of schools. We must begin to rc- 
build lives. 


Buckley 

(continued from page 129) 

and it is a labor-intensive business, at 
the highest level, requiring extraordi- 
nary talent and experience. An estimat- 
ed 50 percent of those who are addict- 
ed and want treatment can't afford to 
pay for it and can't get it free. For ev- 
ery $100 spent maintaining prisons, $15 
spent on treatment would do commen- 
surate good. 

But onc should think also of the ben- 
efits of intense public indoctrination, and. 
that would need funding. 

The AIDS story tells us that though 
one has to be blind, deaf and dumb not 
to know what practices should be avoid- 
ed in order to avoid AIDS, contamina- 
tion continues. Why is this? 

It is owing, in part, to a carefree vi 
of life. One instinctively supposes that it 
is only in totalitarian life that one expects 
self-abuse in exchange for temporary 
pleasure. No one would begrudge Ivan 
Denisovich all the cigarettes he wanted, 
on the inconceivable assumption that 
they started to hand out cigarettes in the 
Gulag. We were not surprised by the 
heavy alcoholism in the Soviet Union. I 
visited the Soviet station on the South 
Pole in 1972. We were taken to the un- 
derground igloo where the 20 Soviet sci- 
entists and staff were isolated for 14 
months, six of them daylight around the 
clock, six darkness around the dock. We 
were treated with voluptuous hospitality 
by these lonely men and learned from 
the American scientist residence that 
once a month, when provisions were 
flown in, almost everyone exhausted the 
ration of vodka in a single orgiastic 
evening. 

e point? That we shouldn't be en- 
tirely surprised when, in situations of 
privation, some human beings opt for 
escapism in any form. And we see it also 
at the other end of the spectrum, in aso- 
ciety relatively carefree, when food and 
lodging and diversion are taken for 
granted. There is a temptation, then, to 
take drug: search of the nervous high 
that launches us, however briefly, out 
of the pedestrian routine. How would 


$1 billion or $10 billion best be spent 
to persuade the person at the brink to 
say no? 

Columnist Nicholas von Hoffman sug- 
gests draconian extracriminal sanctions. 
Mr. Н. is a pedigreed liberal, but his pa- 
tience is sometimes limited, and this is 
very much the case regarding people 
who take drugs. He sides with me and 
others who believe in decriminalization. 
He wants drug-taking to be legislated in- 
to a civil offense. What, then, might a 
drug consumer expect? To begin with, 
that everyone would have to submit to 
periodic blood testing. “Anyone testing 
positive for drug use would be subject to 
the revocation of an array of privileges, 
ranging from temporary or permanent 
loss of a driver's license to revocation of 
one’s license to practice law, operate a 
barbershop, work as an electrician or 
plumber, practice medicine, rent prop- 
erty or buy and sell securities,” writes 
von Hoffman. “Civil penalties for drug 
use would also include cancellation of el- 
igibility for welfare, student grants in 
aid, subsidies and government payments 
of any kind, large or small. Persons 
found selling drugs would be subject to 
cancellation of medical insurance and 
Social Security, up to and including re- 
fused admission to hospital or hospice 
No criminal penalties, no long trials, no 
F. Lee Blundermouths or Whirling Der- 
showitzes. Civil society, through quick, 
essentially unappealable administrative 
tribunals, would turn its back on such 
people for a greater or lesser period of 
time.” I agree. 

It should cost much less than $35 bil- 
lion to get the word around that the von. 
Hoffman Contract With America is slid- 
ing into the legislative books. The un- 
derlying educational assumption here is 
that the 20-year-old who does not fear 
addiction must be made to fear some- 
thing immediately palpable. The loss of 
a driver's license—to consider only one 
of the sanctions proposcd—is a decided 
disability in America. The use of the In- 
ternet, television, radio and public an- 
nouncements in newspapers and maga- 
zines, paid for with a fraction of the 

avings accumulated by the end of pro- 

hibition, should serve to notify the entire 
vulnerable class, up and down the eco- 
nomic and educational scale. Would it 
work? You can't be certain. But this 
much is surely true, that if drug pro- 
hibition ended, the sum total of hu- 
man suffering and privation would be 
less than it now is, and with this differ- 
ence: Those who subsequently suffered 
would do so because they wished drugs 
upon themselves. Today, those who do 
not choose drugs suffer—they are clois- 
tered in the big cities, they are stolen 
from and terrorized, and they pay tax- 
es. Upon the repeal of prohibition, 
there would at least be some relief for 
the innocent. 


Nadelmann 

(continued from page 129) 

movement here and abroad with a wide 
and diverse agenda: stemming the 
spread of HIV by making sterile sy- 
ringes readily available to injecting drug 
users through pharmacies and needle 
exchange programs; reducing illegal 
heroin use and prohibition-related 
crime, disease and death by making 
methadone more readily available to 
heroin addicts who need and want it; fol- 
lowing in the footsteps of Switzerland by 
prescribing heroin on an experimental 
basis to addicts who have tried repeated- 
ly to quit and failed; repealing harsh 
mandatory minimum sentences that 
punish many petty drug dealers more 
severely than rapists and murderers; de- 
priving police and prosecutors of the as- 
set forfeiture powers they have abused; 
ensuring that marijuana and other de- 
monized drugs are available for medical 
purposes; changing the “opiaphobic” 


at- 
titudes and laws that result in the perv: 
sive undertreatment of pain in adults 
and children alike. Many of these 
steps are firmly grounded in scientific 
evidence. 

None of these items on the drug poli- 
cy reform agenda really qualify as “legal- 
ization”—if by that term we mean mak- 
ing some illicit drugs available over the 
counter to adults. Indeed, some radical 
legalizers oppose these measures, argu- 
ing that they do little more than improve 
a prohibitionist drug control system that 
needs to be dismantled, not merely re- 
formed. At the other extreme, many 
drug warriors similarly oppose these 
proposals, perceiving them as stepping- 
Stones on the road to drug legalization. 
Between these extremes a consensus is 
emerging that views such modest steps 
as pragmatic and sensible ways of reduc- 
ing the negative consequences of both 
drug use and drug prohibition—within 
our current prohibitionist regime. 

What about going further toward de- 
criminalization and even legalization of 
some drugs that are now strictly prohib- 
ited? The central ingredients of any suc- 
cessful decriminalization regime are 
threefold: (1) legal possession by adults 
of small amounts of any drug intended 
for personal consumption, (2) substan- 
tial state and local flexibility in designing 
drug control policies suited to local 
norms, (3) some means of providing 
adults with legal access to drugs from a 
regulated source. These were at the core 
of post-Prohibition alcohol policy, and 
they now provide something close to a 
consensus among proponents of drug 
decriminalization. 

But would drug abuse rise substantial- 
ly if we legalized drugs? No scientific ex- 
periment can answer this question. We 
can start with history, which reminds us 
that herom, cocaine, marijuana and 
many other illegal drugs were once legal 
throughout much of the world. In some 


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countries, these drugs were readily avail- 
able but of little interest. In others. some 
of these drugs, notably opium and mor- 
phine, were widely consumed but asso- 
ciated with little in the way of crime, 
disease or social disorder. Indeed, most 
of the histories of drug use around 
the world point to the successful integra- 
tion of most psychoactive drugs in most 
societies. 

Most Americans insist that they would 
not use the drugs that are now illegal if 
they were legalized. Public opinion polls 
routinely reveal that only a tiny percent-- 
age of Americans think legalization 
would lead them to use any of the drugs 
that are now illegal—though the same 
people tend to think that many others 
would use them. 

We must not forget that we already 
live in a society, and world, in which 
many psychoactive drugs are widely and 


readily available. The fact is that illicit 
drugs are easily available to anyone in- 
terested in obtaining them. 

Virtually all the evidence we have i 
dicates that the vast majority of Ameri- 
cans, and other people as well, do not 
need drug prohibition laws to keep from 
becoming drug addicts. Most people ei- 
ther refrain from using powerful psy- 
choactive drugs or use them responsibly. 
A relatively small minority of drug users 
have problems keeping their drug use 
under control, and most of them tend to 
have problems with more than one 
drug. The problems of drug abuse, in 
short, typically have more to do with the 
person, and the environment in which 
he or she lives, than with the particular 
drug. Most of those who would abuse 
drugs under a legalization regime arc 
likely to be already abusing drugs under 
prohibition. 


“On the bright side, however, you did finally make 
the Forbes 400.” 


So what can we conclude about the im- 
pact of drug legalization on drug use 
and abuse? The most likely result would 
be more people using a greater variety 
of drugs but with fewer negative conse- 
quences. People would know more 
about the drugs they use and would be 
more likely to choose those that produce 
desired effects but present few risks to 
health and well-being. The legality and 
greater safety and availability of drugs 
would probably result in more varied 
drug use by more people. At the same 
time, there would be a dramatic drop in 
the negative health consequences associ- 
ated with consumption of illicit drugs of 
unknown potency and purity under 
prohibition. The net result might well be 
not just a dramatic reduction in the 
crime, violence, corruption and other 
consequences of prohibition but also a 
reduction in the negative consequences 
of drug use. 


Trebach 
(continued from page 129) 

addiction regarding all of these drugs 
bear remarkable similarities—and les- 
sons regarding one can apply to many of 
the others. 

A threshold lesson is that use does 
not equal abuse, and that, conventional 
drug-war thinking to the contrary, it is 
possible for most people to use most 
drugs responsibly. Drug use, in and of it- 
self, does not rate as a great threat to the 
overwhelming majority of people, nor to 
society as a whole—and never has. 

A small percentage of users become 
abusers, but this should not call for gov- 
ernment intervention. For example, I 
would love to be smoking a Brazilian ci- 
gar right now, but I cannot and will not. 
1 am hopelessly addicted to the seduc- 
tive, deadly drug and do not dare take 
one more hit. However, 1 do not want a 
policeman “helping” me stay abstinent. 

In the new millennium, government 
may properly fund and evaluate a wide 
range of experiments in the new laws 
and policies on these drugs, including 
those that deal with purity, labeling, tax- 
es, hours of sale, age limits, warning la- 
bels and education on how each of the 
drugs may be used safely—and on how 
to avoid abusive relationships with them. 
‘The government thus can provide hon- 
est, believable warnings to citizens about 
the dangers of each of the drugs and ad- 
vice about how to minimize the harm 
each is capable of causing. In addition, 
the government's new restrictive policies 
will be more easily enforced because 
they will deal with smaller prohibitions, 
such as keeping drugged drivers off the 
roads and preventing sales of drugs to 
minors. 

I cannot predict the future, but I 
would bet money that early in the new 
millennium we will see drug use and 
abuse rise and then, as the novelty wears 


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agents, and as heroin and marijuana be- 
come widely used to help cancer and 
glaucoma patients. Constitutional rights 
and personal freedoms would be in- 
finitely more secure. 

With drugs now under sensible, hu- 
mane control, we could turn our atten- 
tion to truly dangerous problems such as 
race and crime. To even mention race 
and crime in the same breath is to give 
offense. Yet we must face the fact that 
white racism, black racism, black family 
collapse, economic insecurity and cer- 
tainly the drug war have helped create 
a witches brew in which agonies are 
boiling. 

Blacks, who constitute 12 percent of 
the population, account for the majority 
of murderers and murder victims each 
year. In 1994, 9226 black males were 
murdered (compared with 7609 white 
males). The black male is becoming an 
endangered species. One in three black 
males between the ages of 20 and 29 is 
under correctional control. One in 15 
adult black males is behind bars. The 
lure of the illegal drug trade is one of the 
major forces behind this tragedy. 

With peace on the drug front, a major 
cause of hlack incarceration wonld dis- 
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Nothing is more urgent than a massive, 
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searching of souls at every level into 
what those causes are—and where the 
solutions may lie. They surely lie in 
a combination of inspired government 
and private programs and in billions of 
wisely invested dollars giving new hope 
and new structures to black youth and 
black families. 

Similar thoughts apply to AIDS. Since 
June 1981, approximately half a mil- 
lion Americans have developed AIDS. 
About one third of those cases are relat- 
ed to the use of dirty needles. Yet, in the 
face of massive scientific evidence of the 
effectiveness of needle exchange pro- 
grams, Clinton administration officials 
are acting as though that research is in- 
sufficient to warrant a reversal of the law 
that prohibits most federal health funds 
from being used for needle exchange, 
thus dooming tens of thousands of citi- 
zens, including children, to death. 

Under the new legalized system, there 
would be need for few needle exchange 
programs because needles would be eas- 
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ST. TRODEZ ninas fom page 124) 


“You are really a bitch. Do you think he might have a 
few horse whips in that guest room for you?” 


think she wants to rape you." 

1 began to laugh. “I should be that 
lucky,” I said. “All she asked me for was 
lunch.” 

Ken smiled. “Are you going with her?” 

“Jesus,” I said. “I have no privacy on 
this boat.” 

“I'm the captain,” he said, smiling 
again. “I have to know everything that’s 
going on.” 

“Fuck you,” I said. “I have to get back 
to work.” 

“But you are going to have lunch with 
her?” 

I didn’t answer. 

Ken went back down to the galley. I 
could hear his voice telling the others, 
“Mr. Robbins will be going out for 
lunch.” 

Marja was a great character to write 
about. I felt as if I were telling the story 
of someone I knew, a real woman. The 
pages flew and I was almost halfway 
through the story when I heard Do- 
minique's voice from the opened deck 
door. 

“Harold,” she said, with her faint ac- 
cent, “1 am waiting for you.” 

1 looked at my watch. She was exactly 


MIRACLE BRA ON Stth STREET 


on ume. I glanced down at the pages 
again. It had been a good morning's 
work. “Give me a moment to wash up,” I 
called to her. 

Her car was a Peugeot. We arrived ata 
small restaurant in the rolling hills be- 
hind St. Tropez. She tooted her car horn 
as we drove up. The restaurant had only 
12 tables. As we walked in I saw that on- 
ly one of them was set, with a tabledoth, 
a service of silver and glasses for two. 

The patron, a tall, bald man, greeted 
us warmly. He smiled at Dominique, 
kissed her hand and said, “Madame la 
Baronne.” 

She smiled at him. “Charles,” she said. 
“Ithas been a long tim 

“Too long, Madame,” he concurred as 
he led us to the table. 

"And Thérèse?” Dominique asked. 

"She is well, Madame,” he said as he 
helped her to sit. "Thank you, Ma- 
dame.” Then his face split into a large 
smile. "I have made your favorite dish- 
es. Escargots. Then I have prepared a 
crown roast of lamb. For dessert, choco- 
late cake and fresh whipped cream. And 
І have been able to find the same bui 
gundy you used in your cellar in Paris. 


“You stole it,” she laughed. “Philip 
would kill you if he kne| 

“But I knew, Madame, there would 
come a time when you would be here 
with us. What would you have me serve, 
that awful céte de Provence that all the 
restaurants have in St. Tropez?” 

“Thank you, Charles, for all of your 
thoughtfulness,” she said, smiling. 
“Charles, my friend, Harold Robbins, 
the American author.” 

He bowed. “It is my honor, sir. 1 have 
one of your novels, The Carpelbaggers.” 

He turned to go into the kitchen and I 
looked at Dominique. “I don't see any 
other customers. Business is slow if we 
are the only ones here.” 

She laughed. “He is normally closed at 
luncheon, but he opened for me when I 
called.” 

“You've really got clout,” I said, and 
laughed 

“Clout?” she asked. 

I laughed again. “You are a very im- 
portant lady.” 

And lunch began. It was superb. I was 
so full by the end of the meal I didn’t 
think I could get up from the table. I 
looked at my watch. I couldn't believe it. 
It was five P.M. “Jesus! I blew the whole 
afternoon!” I called Charles. “Laddition, 
s'il vous plait." 

Charles shook his head. "Monsieur 
ou are the guest of Madame la 


I looked at Dominique. “1 hat's ridicu- 
lous. The check should be mine. After 
all, you introduced me to a beautiful 
restaurant and we've had a wonderful 
afternoon." 

“Don't be silly,” she said. “This is 
France. I invited you to lunch. And be- 
sides, I'm richer than you are.” 

I started to laugh. She was right. It 
was France and she probably was richer 
than I was. And what the hell. “OK,” I 
said. "But I've got to get back to the boat. 
1 still have work to do." 

“Oh, I am so sorry,” she said. “Charles 
went to get the car, but he was unable to 
start the motor. He is trying to find 
someone to fix i 

“Can we get a taxi?" I asked 

“This is St. Tropez,” she said. “There 
are only two taxis in town and they work 
only at the hotels.” 

I turned to Charles, “Do you have a 
car we can borrow?” 

“No, Monsieur. All I have is a horse 
and wagon. It is not strong enough to 
take you down into town. But there is no 
need to worry. I have a lovely guest 
room for you.” 

I'd been had. I turned to Dominique. 
“You are really a bitch. Do you think he 
might have a few horse whips in that 
guest room for you?" 

She smiled. “After all, we are in the 
country.” 

"Honey," I said, “I'm going to sit here 
at the table until some customers show 
up for dinner in a car. Then I'll get back 


to town. I told you, I'm ona deadline." 

She stared at me. "Don't you like me?” 

I smiled. “I love you. But I have to 
work.” 

“You would stay here if the windsurfer 
were with you,” she said petulantly. 

“You're beginning to sound like my 
wife.” [ held up my hand. “Charles, may 
I have a scotch on the rocks, please?” 

He placed the drink on the table for 
me and looked at Dominique and then 
at me. “We have several customers arriv- 
ing around seven. I am sure that one of 
them can give you a lift into town.” 

Dominique smiled at me. “Cham- 
pagne,” she said to Charles. “Not a bot- 
tle, just a coupe.” 

It was eight p.m. by the time we re- 
turned to the yacht. I gave 200 francs to 
the chauffeur who had brought us back, 
and he returned to the restaurant. Do- 
minique walked up the gangplank with 
me. Leslie and Ken were on the deck. 

“We began to worry about you,” Leslie 
said. “Ken told me you would be back af- 
ter lunch, around threeish.” 

I smiled. “We were in the hills when 
her car died.” 

Ken nodded. “Things like that can 
happen.” 

“Yep,” I said. “I think we all need a 
drink.” 

Ken looked surprised. “What about 
dinner? Cathy's prepared some of your 
favorite dishes.” 

“Is there enough for Leslie and the 
baronne?” I asked. 

“Cathy always has enough,” he as- 
sured me. 

“L cant eat,” Dominique said. “I'm sa- 
and exhausted.” 

т sorry, then,” I said. “Thank you 
for the luncheon. It really was delicious.” 

She turned to Leslie. “Are you staying 
for dinner?” 

Leslie smiled. “I never pass up an invi- 
tation for dinner.” 

Dominique still looked at her. “Then 
you will stay on after dinner?” 

Leslie again smiled. “If Harold asks 
me. That’s another thing I never turn 
down if] have an invitation.” 

“But Harold said that he would be 
working after dinner,” Dominique said. 

Leslie nodded. “I can sleep until he’s 
finished working.” 

Dominique smiled. “Then bonsoir, ma 
petite.” she said and went off the boat. 

Leslie looked at me. "She's a tough 
lady.” 

"Yes," 1 said. “And a very interesting 
one.” 

1 worked after dinner until midnight 
and then went down to my cabin. Leslie 
was naked, fast asleep on the single bed 
across the cabin from my double bed. I 
stretched out in my Jockeys and disap- 
peared into another world. 


I felt my shoulder being shaken. 1 
opened my eyes to find Dominique 


bending over me. I looked across the 
cabin at the single bed. Leslie was gone. 
“What the hell is the matter with you? 
Couldn't you see that I was sleeping?" I 
snapped. 

“It is after ten,” she said. “Кеп told me 
that you wanted to start working early.” 

“Did he tell you to come down here?” 
I asked. 

“I didn't ask him,” she said. 

"How did you know that I wasn't fuck- 
ing Leslie?" I asked. “What would you 
have done then?" 

"Watch and applaud," she laughed. 
"But Ken told me that she left for the 
beach at eight." She sat down on the sin- 
gle bed. "Did you have sex with Leslie 
last night?" 

“None of your business,” I said, stand- 
ing up and heading for the bathroom. 
“Besides, what difference does it make 
to you?" 

She walked across the cabin and 
looked right into my eyes. At the same 
time she slipped one hand down the 
front of my Jockeys and cupped my 
balls. She kissed me and spoke softly. "I 
want to have a real affair with you, not 
just a fuck." 

I could feel myself growing hard. 
Then I lifted her hand aw "Do- 
minique," I said. "I have things to do. 
Maybe another time." 

"Maybe then I will not have the time," 
she said. 

“C'est la vie,” 1 said and closed the 


bathroom door behind me. 

When I came out, she was gone. Her 
scent remained. Then I saw a small note 
on my pillow. 

Cher Harold, 

There will be a time. And it will be right for 
both of us. 

‘Avec amour, Dominique. 

1 smiled. I didn't believe 1 would ever 
see her again. Wally told me that eve- 
ning that she had returned to Paris. 1 
stayed in St. Tropez until I finished the 
script. 1 returned to Cannes for Adre- 
ana's sixth birthday party. It was beauti- 
ful and I would not have missed it for 
the world. 

1 received the money promised for the 
script. But there was a disappointment. 
Lesley Ann Warren, who had played the 
lead in the original miniseries, decided 
that she would not do the sequel. Bob 
Weston and I tried to get Universal to 
sign another actress for the part, but 
they refused. They preferred to pay the 
moncy and forget it. 

In September, Grace and Adrcana re- 
turned to Los Angeles so that Adreana 
could begin school. 

I stayed at Le Cannet to start work on 
a new novel, The Betsy. 

The telephone rang. "Harold," said a 
familiar voice. 

“Yes, Dominique,” I said. 


Se Sarnen 


I Sikes 


‘Are you sure you can get them to put my picture on a 
commemorative stamp?” 


197 


PLAYBOY 


Con 000000 contimed from page 144) 


They could overpower him in a minute. Only the 
knowledge of greater force keeps them from doing so. 


“Hey, Doc.” 

“Any ideas why your blood sugar is up 
to 400?” 

“It's the diabetes, Doc." 

“I guess it wouldn't have anything to 
do with those Moon Pies and Snickers 
bars that were found in your cell yester- 
day, would it?” 

“I was holding those for a friend, Doc, 
Honest.” 

A common refrain here in prison, this 
is a line McClarty remembers fondly 
from his drug days. This is what he said 
to his mother the first time she found 
pot in the pocket of his jeans. The guys 
inside have never stopped using this 


line; the gun in the shoe or the knife or 
stolen television set always belongs to 
some other guy. They're just holding it 
for him. They never ceased to profess 
amazement that the cops, the judge, the 
prosecutor didn't believe them, that 
their own court-appointed lawyers 
somehow sold them out at the last 
minute. They are shocked. It’s all a big 
mistake. Honest. Would J lie to you, 
Doc? They don't belong here in prison, 
and they are eager to tell you why. With 
McClarty it's just the opposite. He knows 
he belongs in here. He dreams about it. 
It is more real to him than his other life, 
than Terri's breasts, than the ailing lawn 


“Gay apparel?” 


outside these walls. But somehow, inex- 
plicably, they let him walk out the door 
at the end of his shift every day. And 
back at Live Oaks, the guards wave him 
in past the booth into the walls of the res- 
idential oasis as if he were really an up- 
standing citizen. Of course, technically 
he is not a criminal. The hospital did not 
bring charges, in return for his agree- 
ment to resign and go into treatment. 
On the other hand, the hospital did not 
know, nobody knew, that it was he, Mc- 
Glarty, who, in exchange for a small ser- 
vice, shot nurse Tina DeVane full of the 
Demerol she craved so very dearly less 
than an hour before she drove her car 
into the abutment of a bridge. 


‘Terri calls just before lunch to tell him 
that the caretaker thinks the brown spots 
in the lawn are from the cats peeing on 
it—‘I_ told him that was ridiculous, 
they're not peeing any more or less than 
they have for the past two years—oh, 
wait, gotta go. Kiss, kiss. Don’t forget 
about the Clausens, at seven. Don't wor- 
ry, they're friends of Bill.” She hangs up 
before McClarty can tell her he might 
stop off at the meeting at Unity Baptist 
on the way home. 


Toward the end of the day McClarty 
goes over to Block D to check the prog- 
ress of several minor complaints. He is 
buzzed into the block by Santiago, the 
guard on duty. “Hey, Doc, what chew 
tink about Aikman's straining his ankle?" 
he asks. “Your Cowboys, they gonna be 
hurtin’ till he come back.” Santiago 
labors cheerfully under the impression 
that McClarty is a big Dallas Cowboys 
fan, a notion that apparently developed 
after the doctor mumbled, in response 
to a query, that he really didn't pay much 
attention to the Oilers. McClarty has 
never followed sports, doesn't know 
Cowboys from Indians, but he is happy 
to play along, delighted to find himself 
at this relatively late date in life assigned 
to a team, especially after he heard the 
Cowboys referred to on television as 
“America’s team.” Like eating at McDon- 
ald's, it makes him feel as if he were a 
genuine citizen of the republic. 

“Hey, Doc—that sprain? That, like, a 
serious thing?” 

“Could be,” McClarty suggested, final- 
ly able to offer a genuine opinion on his 
team. “A sprain could put him out for 
weeks.” 

Santiago is jovial and relaxed, though 
he is the only guard on duty in a cell 
block of 24 violent criminals, most of 
whom are on the block this moment, 
lounging around the television or con- 
spiring in small knots, If they wanted to, 
they could overpower him in a minute; it 
is only the crude knowledge of greater 
force outside the door of the block that 
keeps them from doing so. McClarty 


himself has almost learned to suppress 
the fear, to dial down the buzz and crack- 
le of malevolence and violence that is the 
permanent atmospheric of the wards, as 
palpable as the falling pressure and stat- 
ic electricity before a storm. He is not 
alarmed when a cluster of inmates 
moves toward him, Greco and Smith- 
field and two others whose names he for- 
gets. They all have their ailments and 
their questions, and they all trot over to 
him like horses across a field to a swing- 
ing bucket of grain 

“Hey, Doc!” they call out from all 
sides. Once again, he feels the rush that 
all doctors know, the power of the heal- 
er, a little touch of the old godlike sense 
of commanding the forces of life and 
death. It was the best buzz, but he could 
never quite believe it, or feel like he de- 
served it, and now he is too chastened to 
allow himself to revel in the feeling. But 
he can still warm himself, briefly, in 
the glow of this tribal admiration, even 
in this harsh and straitened place. And 
for 2 moment he forgets what he has 
learned at such expense, in so many air- 
less, smoky church basements—that he is 
actually powerless, that his paltry heal- 
ing skills, like his sobriety, are on loan 
from a higher power, just as he forgets 
the caution he has learned from the 
guards and from experience behind 
these walls, and he does not see Lesko 
until it is too late, fat Lesko who is feeling 
even nastier than usual without hıs Val- 
ium, his hand striking out from the knot 
of inmates like the head of a cobra, pro- 
jecting a deadly thin silvery tongue. 
McClarty feels the thud against his chest, 
the blunt impact that he doesn’t immedi- 
ately identify as sharp-instrument trau- 
ma. And when he sees the knife, he 
reflects that it's a damn good thing he 
is not Terri, or his left breast implant 
would be punctured. As he falls into 
Lesko’s arms, he realizes, with a sense of 
recognition bordering on relief, that he 
is back in the dream. They've come for 
him at last. 


Looking up from the inmate roster at 
that moment, Santiago is puzzled by this 
strange sort of embrace—and by the ex- 
pression on McClarty's face as he turns 
toward the guard booth, toward Santia- 
go- "He was smiling," Santiago would 
say afterward, "like he just heard a good 
one and wanted to tell you, you know, or 
like he was saying, Hey, check out my 
bro Lesko here." Santiago told the same 
thing to his boss, to the board of inquiry, 
to the grand jury and to the prosecutor. 
And he would always tell the story to the 
new guards who trained under him. It 
never ceased to amaze him—that smile. 
And after a thoughtful drag on his ciga- 
rette, Santiago would always mention 
that the Doc was a big Cowboys fan. 


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gourmet dinner for two (including fresh, par- 
tially prepared entrée plus vegetables, side 
dishes, sauces and desserts—as well as recipes / 
with photos) to you. Take care of the simmer- 
ing, and minutes later, you'll have delicious fare 
such as marinated Chilean sea bass or veal chop 
Italiano. Call 800-819-2433 for details. 


POTPOURRI 


SOMETHING 
SPECIAL IN 
THE AIR 


Can't decide whether to 
give your girlfriend per- 
fume or lingerie as an af- 
ter-Christmas gift or an 
сапу Valentine's Day pres- 
ent? Combine the best of 
both with a pair of Frant- 


ies by Scent-Sation—sexy 
panties with a pouch that 
gradually emits a sensual 


scent. The fragrance of 
black Franties is midnight 
bouquet. Pink is romantic 
rose. Ivory is French vanil- 
la and taupe is cocoa but- 
ter. Cant decide? Buy one 
of each. If she smells like 
vanilla it must be Tuesday. 
They're available in small, 
medium and large, in ci- 
= de ther bikini or high-cut 
(pictured here) styles. 
, They'll keep their scent 
through a year’s worth of 
{ laundering. Price: about 
l , $14 in JCPenney stores. 


THE SOUND OF NAPALM IN THE MORNING 


If the wimpy beep of a standard alarm clock isn't enough to 
jump-start you in the a.m., these wake-up war machines by Execu- 
tive Travelware should be. They are modeled after the B-17 Fly- 
ing Fortress bomber and the AH-64 Apachc helicopter, and cach 
starts with the sound of an engine, then has its own soundtrack. 
The Fortress’ captain yells, “Turning!” The Apache's pilot com- 
mands, “Let's go, go!” and then "Fire!" Miniature propellers ro- 
tate from slow motion to full throttle, machine guns rattle, head- 
lights flash—and you're in the middle of a battlefield, Color 
choices: aluminum or camouflage. Price: $79. Call 800-397-7477. 


PINOT ENVY 


Those who appreciate fine wine and gor- 
geous women should act fast, because 
there are only 777 copics of Passion for 
Pinot (below) available. The 18” x 24” 
poster (featuring PLAYBOY model Lisa Mc- 
Grath) is part of The Varietal Collection, a 
series of limited-edition wine prints on 
high-quality, acid-free paper. Next up: 


zinfandel and chardonnay—with more to 
come. Price: $29.95. Call 800-423-0174. 


HOW FRENCH 


“The feast that is France, day after day” is 
how Workman Publishing markets its wall 
calendar 365 Days in France 1997. And 
whata [cast it is: several hundred photos 
of people, cuisine, cars, architecture, 
fruit, flowers and more, along with a brief 
text describing 12 regions of the country 
Price: $10.95. Look for it at your book- 
store. Paris for $10.95? And 

no insults. How un-French! 


THE GREAT 
BOBBY JONES 


Long before Tiger Woods was 
born, Bobby Jones ruled the 
links. In the Twenties he cap- 
tured 13 major championships. 
In 1930 he became the first man 
to win all four majors (British 
Amateur, British Open, US. 
Amateur and U.S. Open) in the 
same year. The Greatest of Them 
All: The Legend of Bobby Jones, an 
11”x 14” book by Martin Davis, 
celebrates the great golfer's life 
with more than 250 photos and 
text by some of the game’s most 
distinguished writers—induding 
Dave Anderson of The New York 
Times. Published by The American 
Golfer. Price: $60. 


CIGARS GO TO SEA 


Smoke on the Water, “the ultimate cigar cruise,” shoves off from 
Acapulco on March 2 fora ten-day voyage to ports of call in Cen- 
tral America, the Cayman Islands and Mexico via the Panama 
Canal. While on board, pampered puffers can learn about sto- 
gies by attending seminars held by Richard Carleton Hacker (a 
PLAYBOY contributor and author of The Ultimate Cigar Book). The 
cruise also includes an excursion to a Honduran cigar factory, and 
a wine and food festival. Prices start at $2100 (double occupancy 
with airfare). Call American Business Consultants at 800-884-7340. 


EAST MEETS WEST 


The yin and yang at the top of 
Grand Panax’ label might ex- 
plain why it's the perfect drink 
to ring in the New Year. The re- 
sult of French wine-making and 
Asian herbal expertise, this 
sparkling wine contains pinot 
noir and chardonnay grapes, 
plus the extract of wild Ameri- 
can ginseng, which is supposed 
to provide an energy boost 
along with other positive quali- 
ties. Grand Panax could be the 
thing to keep you going as mid- 
night approaches. Price: about 
$45 fora 750-ml bottle. Look 
for it in upscale liquor and food 
and wine stores nationwide. 


NEXT MONTH 


SEX REVOLUTION 


MISS FEBRUARY LOVERS" LINGERIE 


SEX AND THE SUPER BOWL— YOU THOUGHT THE SUPER PLAYBOY'S HISTORY OF THE SEXUAL REVOLUTION 
BOWL WAS ONLY ABOUT FOOTBALL? THINK AGAIN. ITS PART TWO (1910-1920): THE END OF INNOCENCE—THE 
ABOUT SEX, MONEY, POWER AND THE WAY YOU DEFINE EMANCIPATED WOMAN MEETS THE NEW MAN, THEDA BARA 
YOURSELF AS A MAN —BY KEVIN COOK AND DOUGLAS FAIRBANKS SET SEXUAL STANDARDS AND 


ARMY TRAINING FILMS ARE A HOT TICKET—BY JAMES R. 
DESIRE—WHAT HAPPENS WHEN THE WORLD'S FUNNIEST PETERSEN 


MAN AND ITS SEXIEST WOMAN DEBATE PASSION, BODY 
HAIR AND BREAKFAST? A HILARIOUS CHAT WITH A FISH LAWRENCE SCHILLER—THE NOTED JOURNALIST-ENTRE- 
CALLED WANDA'S JOHN CLEESE AND JAMIE LEE CURTIS PRENEUR WAS O.J. SIMPSON'S BUDDY. NOW HE'S FAMOUS 
FOR SPILLING THE INSIDE STORY ON WHAT HAPPENED 
PLAYMATES IN LINGERIE NOTHING SAYS VALENTINES AROUND THE DEFENSE TABLE DURING THE TRIAL—A RE- 
DAY LIKE SEXY LINGERIE, AND NOBODY SHOWS IT OFF VEAL ING PLAYBOY INTERVIEW BY DAVID SHEFF 
BETTER THAN PLAYBOY'S OWN—AN INSPIRING PICTORIAL 
CONAN O'BRIEN—LETTERMAN'S SUCCESSOR IS ENJOY- 
JOHN F. KENNEDY JR.—THE HYANNIS PORT HEARTTHROB — |NG AN UPTREND. HE PUTS HIS GOOD FORTUNE IN FER- 
REMAINS MUM AND MYSTERIOUS, BUT THE MEDIA CANT SPECTIVE, WORRIES THAT HARVARD IS TAKING OVER THE 
GET ENOUGH OF HIM AND HIS WIFE, CAROLYN BESSETTE. COMEDIC WORLD AND SHARES HIS HOPES FOR HIS HAIR 
PULITZER PRIZE WINNING COLUMNIST JIM DWYER DISH- N 20 QUESTIONS BY WARREN KALBACKER 


ES UP A FEW STORIES ABOUT THE KENNEDY HEIR, 
CELEBRATE V-DAY—TURNING FOOD INTO FOREPLAY 


EASTER EGG: AN OFFICE ROMANCE—KEN678 IS A HAP- WITH THE PERFECT VALENTINE'S DAY DINNER: FOUR 
PY COMPUTER ICON UNTIL HE MEETS MARY97, WHO IS DE- PAGES OF FABULOUS GIFTS, RESORTS, RESTAURANTS. 
CIDEDLY A MAVERICK, (WHERE DID SHE GET THOSE RED MOVIES AND OILS TO MAKE YOUR GIRL QUIVER. PLUS: A 
FINGERNAILS?) AN INFORMATION-AGE LOVE STORY BY TIP OF OUR HAT TO FEDORAS, AND PLAYBOY GOES UNDER- 
TERRY BISSON COVER—UNDER THE COVERS—WITH A CIA OPERATIVE 


© es BAWTCo 


SURGEON GENERAL'S WARNING: Quitting Smoking 
Box 1003, 16 mg, “tar”, 1.2 mg. nicotine Now Greatly Reduces Serious Risks to Your Health. 
av. per cigarette by FTC method. 


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