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PLAYBILL 


EVERY SO OFTEN a story comes along that cannot be con- 
tained—a story that's relevant, timely and fast-breaking. Such 
is the case of The Road to Oklahoma City, a riveting account of 
‘Timothy McVeigh's bombing of the Murrah Federal Building 
in Oklahoma City. It was written by reporter Ben Fenwick, who 
based the article on lawfully obtained documents prepared 
for McVeigh's defense team. If some of the article sounds fa- 
miliar, maybe you caught it on rravbov's Web site in March. 
Now you can read our complete story—from McVeigh's emer- 
gence to the point of no return when he yanked the fuse. 

We like to say that our future lies in the stars. In the 
Nineties alone, we've seen Pammy and Jenny shoot heaven- 
ward. This month two more ascendant beauties are lighting s” 
up the constellation known as the Great Hare (Magnus Lepus): FENWICK 
Playmate of the Year Victoria Silvstedt and MTV's hard charger —3 
Carmen Electra. New Guess jeans queen Victoria dons her 
crown and little else in a white-hot pictorial shot by Con- 
tributing Photographer Stephen Wayda. Cable-ready Carmen 
returns to our pages after her appearance in the May 1996 is- 
sue that helped her land gigs on Singled Out and Baywatch. 

Celebrity author, NBA bullyboy, bride of Funkenstein: Each 
year Dennis Rodman makes the running of the Bulls a bit more 
dangerous. What did he do during his NBA-mandated 11- 
game vacation? He went to Vegas, of course. Contributing Ed- 
itor Kevin Cook trailed the hieroglyph in high-tops through 
casinos and dance clubs for some late-night badinage, and the SERE 
result is a head-butting Playboy Interview. 

Back on earth, many men are dealing with the painful issue 
of sexual dysfunction. Consider the numbers: As many as 
20 million American men may suffer from impotence, and for 
perhaps 85 percent of those guys the ailment is physical and 
not—as was long believed—mental. Michael Parrish's Up, Up & 
Away (illustrated by David Wilcox) explains the treatments, from 
$15,000 penile implants to prostaglandin injections to an ex- 
perimental magic pill. It may be the most vital article you'll 
read all year. The problem with good plumbing is that it often 
lands men in hot water. In The Perils of Adultery, New York's 
king of clubs, A.J. Benza, examines the eternal male dilemma of 
infidelity and addresses its allied predicament: getting caught. 

The Reverend Al Sharpton has been perceived as a mass of 
contradictions, an oversize, swaggering loudmouth and a race 
activist. Recently trimmed down and mellowed out, he has 
emerged as a major civic force in the tradition of his mentor 
Jesse Jackson and Adam Clayton Powell. Read Al Sharpton Has 
а Dream, by Toure, and sec him run for mayor. 

In Michael Chabon's acclaimed novel Wonder Boys, he created 
the character August Van Zorn, a literary disciple of horror. 
writer H.P Lovecraft. This month's story, In the Black Mill, was 
written by Chabon writing as Van Zorn. It's a macabre tale of 
a town whose inhabuants suffer gruesome accidents on the 
job. The artwork is by David Hodges. To the twisted mind of 
George Carlin, a true replica is an oxymoron. He's equally ob- 
sessed with such words as douche (a female duke). He has 
collected his favorite linguistic oddities in Brain Droppings 
(Hyperion), and our excerpt from this new book is no anti- 
climax—that would be something Carlin's uncle was good at. 
Call 911. ER's heavenly nurse Julianna Margulies pounds away 
on our hearts in a 20 Questions with Robert Crane. She can't tan- 
go but can make a mean piece of toast. Check out our fashion 
feature Tight Squeeze for the skinny on today's ne plus ultra 
look. Our summer special also has a tasty centerfold of Play- 
mate Carrie Stevens. She was once a Kiss groupie— so get ready 
to rock and roll all night and party cvery day. 


WILCOX 


CARLIN CRANE 


Playboy (ISSN 0032-1478), June 1997, volume 44, number 6. Published monthly by Playboy in national and regional editions, Playboy, 
680 North Lake Shore Drive, Chicago, Illinois 60611. Periodicals postage paid at Chicago, Illinois and at additional mailing offices. 
Canada Post Canadian Publications Mail Sales Product Agreement No. 56162, Subscriptions: in the U.S., $29.97 for 12 issues. Postmas- 
ter: Send address change to Playboy, PO. Box 2007, Harlan, Iowa 51537-4007. E-mail: edit@playboy.com. 5 


PLAYBOY 


vol. 44, no. 6—june 1997 CONTENTS FOR THE MEN'S ENTERTAINMENT MAGAZINE 
PLAYBILL ... ае я ues T 5 v 
DEAR PLAYBOY. REPEC PERE no DES runs s ceto e Азу coo is 11 j 
PLAYBOY AFTER HOURS........... MID UR 15 
MOVIES ......... 17 
VIDEO 21 
ЗЕ 22 
MUSIC ... 24 
WIRED 30 
TRAVEL 36 
BOOKS и 37 
HEALTH 8 FITNESS ................. RE 38 
MEN Fra LITERAS HS HET LETT D non Oo hn 29 ASABABER 40 
WOMEN. -CYNTHIA HEIMEL — 42 
THE PLAYBOY ADVISOR...... сао sacl "iosuada CAO 
THE PLAYBOY FORUM ..... raue 49 
PLAYBOY INTERVIEW: DENNIS S КОРМАМ соп conversotion .............. 59 
THE ROAD TO OKLAHOMA ClTY—article .............. BEN FENVICK 70 


ELECTRA MAGNETISM—pictoriol 
IN THE BLACK MILL—fiction .............. 


74 
MICHAEL CHABON во 
84 
92 


TIGHT SQUEEZE—foshion +. HOLLIS WAYNE 

UP, UP & AWAY—article E - . MICHAEL PARRISH 

PLAYBOY GALLERY: HELMUT'S ANGELS ........... den andis 95 

CARRIE'S NEW LIFE—playboy's playmate of the month ...... ox 798 

PARTY JOKES—humor ........................... Xo . 110 

THE PERILS OF ADULTERY—orticle Е A). BENZA 112 

DADS & GRADS—gifts DC HE ddp Aute ЕЕ СЫ Miss June 
PLAYMATE REVISITED: LISA BAKER 5 ws GEN) 

AL SHARPTON HAS A DREAM— playboy profile . с TOURÉ 124 

BRAIN DROPPINGS—humor....... о: БЕОКБЕ CARLIN 128 

ENS NUI rins aeg : decas EEE 130 

20 QUESTIONS: JULIANNA MARGULIES ... 144 
WHERE & HOW TO BUY Ө уз: 170 

PLAYMATE NEWS ........................ па e 179 

PLAYBOY ON THE SCENE З 163. Carlin's Brain 
COVER STORY 


Victoria Silvstedt, pLavsoy’s Miss December 1996, makes her encore appearance 
this month. As we proudly crown her 1997 Playmate of the Year, she says, “This is 
what can happen to a girl in America.” You bet this is o great country! West Coast 
Photo Editor Marilyn Grabowski produced our cover and Contributing Photogra- 
pher Stephen Wayda shot it. Thanks to cover stylist Jennifer Tutor and to Alexis Vo- 
gel for styling Victoria's hair and makeup. Our retiring Rabbit plays peekaboo 


ER INSERT BETWEEN PAGES 170.171 IN SELECTED SUBSCRIPTION AND NEWSSTAND COPIES. CERTIFICADO DE LICITUO DE TITUL 
ERMACIÓN. MENICO. RESERVA DE TITULO EN TRÁMITE < 


PRINTED IN U.S.A. 


PLAYBOY 


HUGH M. HEFNER 


NATURAL LIQUID editor-in-chief 
an ARTHUR KRETCHMER editorial director 
JONATHAN BLACK managing editor 
TOM STAEBLER art director 
M GARY COLE photography director 


Y BUCKLEY executive editor 
EK assistant managing editor 


EDITORIAL 
STEPHEN RANDALL editor; FICTION: 
ALICE К. TURNER editor; FORUM 

x TERSEN senior staff writer; CHIP ROWE a: 
st beautiful bod; editor; MODERN LIVING: DAVID STEVENS edi- 
les. tor; BETH TOMKI associate editor; STAFF: BRUCE 

XLUGER senior editor; CHRISTOPHER NAPOLI 
BARBARA NELLIS associate editors; ALISON LUND- 
cren junior editor; FASHION: HOLLIS WAYNE 
director; JENNIFER RYAN JONES assistant editor; 
CARTOONS: MICHELLE URRY editor; COPY: 
LEOPOLD FROEHLICH editor; ARLAN BUSHMAN. 
ANNE SHERMAN assistant. edito REMA SMITH 
senior researcher; LEE BRAUER, GEORGE HODAK, 
SARALYN WILSON researchers; MARK DURAN 
research librarian; CONTRIBUTING EDI- 
TORS: ASA HABER, KEVIN COOK. GRETCHEN 
EDGREN, LAWRENCE GROBEL. KEN GROSS (aulomo- 
live), CYNTHIA HEIMEL, WARREN KALBACKER, 
D. KEITH MANO, JOF MORGENSTERN, REG POTTER. 
TON, DAVID RENSIN, DAVID SHEFF, DAVID STANDISH. 

BRUCE WILLIAMSON (movies) 


RT 
KERIG POPE managing director; BRUCE HANSEN. 
CHET 505КІ, LEN WILLIS senior directors; KRISTIN 
KORJENEK associate director; ANN SEIDL supervi- 
sor, keyline/pasteup; PAUL CHAN senior art assis- 
tant; JASON SIMONS art assistant 


PHOTOGRAPHY 
MARILYN GRABOWSKI west coast editor; JIM LAR 
SON. MICHAEL ANN SULLIVAN senior editors; 
BEAUDEI associate editor; STEPHANIE BARNETT, 
BETH MULLINS assistant editors; DAVID CHAN 
RICHARD FEGLEN, ARNY FREYTAG, RICHARD IZUI, 
DAVID NECEY, BYRON NEWMAN, POMPEO POSAR. 
STEPHEN WwaYDA contributing photographer 
SHELLEE WELLS stylist; TIM HAWKINS manager, 
photo services; ELIZABETH GEORGIOU photo ar- 
chivist; GERALD SENN correspondent—paris 


PATTY 


RICHARD KINSLER publisher 


Zymol features an exclusive blend of ingredients == PRODUCTION 
derived from nature. Our combination of rare Brazilian MARIA MANDIS director; RITA JOHNSON manager; 


KATHERINE CAMPION, JODY JURGETO, RICHARD. 


Camauba wax and beeswax gives a deep, rich luster QUARTAROLI, TOM SIMONE associate managers 


ws 1 And 1 i i CIRCULATION 
us STESSO finish. au special, тше oils LARRY A. DJERF newsstand sales director; PHYLLIS 
beautify and protect in ways no ordinary car wax can. ROTUNNO subscription circulation director; CINDY 


RAKOWITZ Communications director 


Doesn't your body deserve the best? You'll find ADVERTISING 


A ERNIE RENZULLI advertising director; JANES DI- 
Zymol at your favorite auto care store or call MONEKAS. new york manager; JEFF KIMMEL, sales 
development manager; JOE HOFFER midwest ad 


1-800-999-5563 for information or to order by phone. sales manager; mv койма! at marketing direc! 


LISA NATALE research director 


Wherever cars are adored. тиш сны 


wwwaymol.com ADMINISTRATIVE 
EILEEN KENT new media director; MARCIA TER- 


RONES rights & permissions manager 


©1997 Zymöl Enterprises, Inc. 
PLAYBOY ENTERPRISES, INC 


CHRISTIE HEFNER chairman, chief executive officer 


GABRIEL BYRNE 


BEN KINGSLEY 


опто dd that П 
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DEAR PLAYBOY 


580 NORTH LAKE SHORE ORIVE 
CHICAGO, ILLINOIS 60611 
FAX 312-649-9534 
E-MAIL DEARPB@PLAYBOY.COM 
PLEASE INCLUDE YOUR DAYTIME PHONE NUMBER 


FAYE'S DAY 
Faye Resnick (March) is an intelligent, 
beautiful woman. I'm glad that PLAYBOY 
didn’t give up on her when she first said 
no to posing. 
Mathew Williams 
Glendale, California 


I can't believe PLAYBOY would waste a 
pictorial on Faye Resnick, Nicole Brown 
Simpson's self-appointed best friend. I 
thought only Kato Kaelin was low 
enough to stretch his 15 minutes of fame 
into an hour. 

Nelson Merren 
Allston, Massachusetts 


Kudos to Faye and Vincent Bugliosi. 
Resnick has the courage to communicate 
her beliefs regardless of what anyone 
may say about her. This is one of 
PLAYBOY'S best pictorials. 

Lawrence Newell 
Minneapolis, Minnesota 


1f Faye Resnick wanted justice served, 
why couldn't she testify on the witness 
stand rather than the newsstand? 
Fred Greenberg 
fmgreenberg@juno.com 
West Covina, California 


The best thing to come out of the O.]. 
mess is your pictorial on Faye Resnick. 
ТЇЇ keep this issue around and try to for- 
get about the rest of the garbage. 

Bill Cook 
Los Angeles, California 


When Faye Resnick wrote her first 
book in response to the breaking O.] 
story, she said she "wrote it for Nicole." 
Has she now posed for eLavroy for the 
same reason? 

John Elari 
New York, New York 


THE FINAL ODYSSEY 
ГЇЇ never understand the world's ob- 
session with the works of Arthur C. 


Clarke (3001: The Final Odyssey, March), 
who is a wonderful visionary but one of 
the most remarkably untalented science 
fiction writers of all time. Everything I've 
ever read of his is so bland. Where are 
the details? Where's the emotion? We'll 
never know anything more about what 
goes on around Frank Poole than what 
we discover in a Dick and Jane book: “See 
Frank in a hospital bed. Wake up, Frank, 
wake up.” 

Rolf Hawkins 

Burke, Virginia 


Arthur C. Clarke, the best science fic- 
tion author of our time, has done it 
again. Thanks for a fascinating preview 
of 3001. 

Pierre Brachet 
PierrotLaGamelle@BigFoot.com 
Portland, Oregon 


GAME FOR EMU 
I was quite pleased to see the item on 
emu and ostrich meat in your Health & 
Fitness column (March). I’m one of many 
emu ranchers in this country who is try- 
ing to spread the good word about ratite 
meats and other products. What many 
people don't realize is that emus and 
rheas also yield an amazing natural oil 
that is a wonderful skin-care and first- 
aid treatment. 
Don Housh 
poplars@juno.com 
Pleasanton, Texas 


WOMEN 
For years, Cynthia Heimel has made 
me laugh, and I always look forward to 
her column and to everything else she 
writes. Her moving eulogy for her fa- 
ther ("Му Dad,” March) makes me hope 
she'll write forever. My father also died 
recently. Even though he didn't die 
alone, as did Heimcl's, I can't begin to 
fathom the pain that be went through 
just before the end. 
Michael Stasko 
Columbus, Ohio 


“Mr Jenkins' turn-ons 
include thunderstorms 
and well-mixed martinis.” 


How refreshingly 
distinctive. 


PLAYBOY 


“My Dad” could have been my story. 
About the only difference between 
Heimel's life experience and mine is that 
my parents were separated by my moth- 
cr's untimely death. Thank you, Cyn- 
thia, for a good, hard, much-needed cry. 
My dad also died alone, and I still can't 
stand it. 

Mikki Barnes 
Indianapolis, Indiana 


HEAVYWEIGHT HUCKSTER 
Over the past six years, Jack Newfield 
(Vulture on the Ring Post, March) has been 
rehashing his tirades against boxing pro- 
moter Don King in countless newspaper 
columns, magazine articles, a documen- 
tary, a book and, finally, a PLAYBOY pro- 
file. It's starting to get a tad boring. 
Roberto Santiago 
Brooklyn, New York 


I've never been much of a fan of pro- 
fessional boxing, but, like millions of 
women, I always thought of Don King as 
a harmless, funny-looking guy with big 
hair. After reading Jack Newfield’s piece 
about King’s shameful business prac- 
tices, I'm skeptical of any boxing events 
he sponsors. Thanks for dispelling the 
myths about this man. 

Kari Kolbjornsen 
Denver, Colorado 


MAKE HIS DAY 
Thanks for the fantastic interview with 
Clint Eastwood (March). I've been a fan 
for most of my life, and your interview 
deepened my admiration of the man 
and his work. Here's hoping his creative 
artistry will last a few more decades. 
Eastwood is truly an American original. 
Karl Turner 
East Syracuse, New York 


The prologue to the interview states 
that Clint Eastwood's Dirty Harry 
Jaunched three sequels. In fact, it 
launched four: 1973's Magnum Force, 
1976's The Enforcer, 1983's Sudden Impact 
and 1988's The Dead Pool. 

James Ryan Gilfoil 

Hanover, New Hampshire 


PIN-UP MECCA 
1 enjoyed Kevin Cook's Glamourcon 
(March) and especially liked seeing No- 
vember 1966 Playmate Lisa Baker. I had 
the good fortune to meet Lisa at a party 
for the Air Force Academy class of 1970. 
She made everyone in the room feel like 
they were her “one and only." Her pho- 
to still livens up my den wall. 
Bill McCullough 
Colorado Springs, Colorado 


MAID MIRIAM. 

Jennifer Miriam (March) is a beauty. 
"The tattoos on her wrist and ankle are 
eye-catching accents to her allure, but 
why is the tattoo on her hip so carefully 


12 hidden from view? Is it a naughty word 


or a boyfriend's name, or does it say 
MOTHER? What are you hiding from your. 
curious readers? 
Patrick Purcell 
Crofion, Maryland 


Why do I get the impression that you 
were trying to hide Jennifer's tattoos? 
Her three tattoos are small and sexy. 
Next time you photograph a Playmate 
with a tattoo, don't distract us from it. 

Zara Brumana 
Ventura, California 


Years ago, you'd never see a Playmate 
with a tattoo. Now, trashy tattoos seem 
de rigueur for PLAYBOY. 

M. Tucker Brawner 
Savannah, Georgia 


PLAYMATE REVISITED 
Sharry Konopski (March) has always 
been my favorite Playmate. When I 


bought The Playmate Book, 1 searched en- 
thusiastically for her story. My eyes filled 
with tears when I found the page with 
her pictured in a wheelchair. But Play- 
male Revisited showed us a new side of 
Sharry. She's a determined woman, and 
her daily fight with paralysis makes me 
admire her even more. She's as beautiful 
as ever. 

Roch Vaillancourt 

Fleurimont, Quebec 


Asa psychologist in a hospital rehabil- 
itation setting, I helped teach a course in 
sexuality to patients who had spinal cord 
injuries. The teachers stressed that a 
spinal cord injury doesn't necessarily put 
an end to one's sex life. People with SCI 
do marry, are sexually active and have 
children. Sharry Konopski is a great ex- 
ample of how disabled people can live 
without giving up one of life's great 
pleasures, 

Aharon Shulimson 
Salt Lake City, Utah 


Sharry holds a special place in my 
heart. When I first joined the Air Force, 
1 was stationed at Osan Air Base in Ko- 
rea and marked each passing day on my 
1989 rLayBoY calendar. І vividly remem- 
ber marking off April 7, 1989 because it 
was my 19th birthday and the Playmate 
that month was Sharry. She made my 
19th birthday brighter, and now my 
heart goes out to her. 

Senior Airman Tom Petty 
Tucson, Arizona 


GOODBYE, GAIL 
Thank you for your tribute to June 
1978 Playmate Gail Stanton in Playmate 
News (March). I had the pleasure of 
knowing her during the last few months 
of her too-short life. She was a kind, gen- 
erous and beautiful person. If God had 
blessed me with a daughter, 1 would 
have wanted her to be just like Gail. 
Michael Brester 
Memphis, Tennessee 


FOPS, DWEEBS AND MEN 
The only display of male attire that ri- 
vals Hollis Wayne's foppery (All Dressed 
Up, March) for abysmal taste is the bowl- 
ing dweeb who is wearing polyester 
checked pants, three rings and a two- 
inch-wide leather watchband in the Jim 
Beam advertisement. There are just 
three well-dressed men depicted in this 
issue: Clint Eastwood, Vincent Bugliosi 
and Hugh Hefner. 
M. Dillon 
MDillon355@aol.com 
Friendsville, Pennsylvania 


AIR FRESHENER 
Is there anything left for Michael Jor- 

dan to accomplish or advertise (20 Ques- 
tions, March)? The best thing about him 
is that he does it with class. He must 
smell really good now, too. 

Jay Black 

San Francisco, California 


Michael Jordan is a man who excels аг 
what he does—namely, putting a ball in 
a hoop. PLAYBOY doesn't need to add 
to the absurd idolization of an athlete 
whose other major accomplishments in- 
dude hawking sneakers, burgers and 
cologne. 


Alan Katz 
Middlebury, Vermont 


I've been a dichard MJ fan for 15 
years now. It was during a 1982 NCAA 
championship game that I first took no- 
tice of his talent. Initially, I was just fasci- 
nated because I share his last name, but 
I grew to respect him as a consummate 
professional and outstanding role mod- 
el. I'm proud to say that Michael Jordan 
is my hero. 

Larry Jordan 

Glasgow, Kentucky 


© Philip Morris Inc.1997 


Ultima: mg "tar; 0.1 mg nicotine Ultra Lights: 5 mg "tar; 0.4 mg 
micotine-Kings: 8 mg "tar; 0.6 mg nicotine av. per cigarette by FTC method. 


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


You can 
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a lower tar 
and enjoy smooth, 
satisfying taste. 


E N 
OF SAVANE 
[|| 
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CASUALS | 
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NO FADE // 
GUARANTEE 


PLAYBOY AFTER 


U2 CALLING HEF 


Over time, U2 has achieved the chart- 
topping success other bands can only 
dream of. Now it appears they have also 
developed a refined sense of social com- 
mentary. For their latest CD, Pop, the 
lads, who in the past have cavorted with 
such supergroupies as Christy Turling- 
ton and Naomi Campbell, recorded a 
tune called The Playboy Mansion. In it, 
lead singer and lyricist Bono wonders, 
"Have I got the gift to get me through/ 
The gates of the Mansion?" and "We'll 
go diving in their pool/It’s who you 
know that gets you through/The gates 
in the Playboy Mansion." Bono should 
know that he's welcome any time—with 
or without his bathing suit. On second 
thought, maybe he should call first. 


PLUG AND PLAY 


Assuming that online Lotharios are 
acquainted with some actual women, we 
got a kick out of the following bit of 
chain e-mail: "Last year my friend up- 
graded his Girlfriend 3.1 to Girlfriend- 
plus 1.0 (marketing name: Fiancée 1.0). 
Recently, he upgraded Fi 
Wife 1.0. It's a memory hogger, and it 
has taken all his space. Wife 1.0 must be 
running before he can do anything. Al- 
though he did not ask for them, Wife 1.0 
came with plug-ins such as Motherinlaw 
and Brotherinlaw. BUG WARNING: Wife 
1.0 has an undocumented bug. If you try 
to install Mistress 1.1 before uninstalling 
Wife 1.0, Wife 1.0 will delete MSMoney 
files before doing the uninstall itself. 
Then Mistress 1.1 will refuse to install, 
claiming insufficient resources.” We also 
hear that if you're not careful, Mistress 
1.1 can give your hard drive a virus. 


AMUSEMENT RIDE 


Around the same time that Disneyland 
announced it was retooling its Pirates of 
the Caribbean ride to eliminate sugges- 
tive animatronic behavior (no more pi- 
rates chasing bar wenches), a new source 
of embarrassment surfaced. On the 
Splash Mountain flume ride, a camera 
takes souvenir photos of passengers dur- 
ing the waterfall plunge. So many wom- 


en have taken to baring their breasts for 
the snapshot that the attraction has 
gained the nickname Flash Mountain. 


TROJAN BARBIE 


We're not surprised that Barbie and 
Ken dolls have been banned in Iran as 
the embodiment of devil-inspired, impe- 
rialistic impurity. But even children of 
the Koran yearn for dolls, so Iranians 
have trotted out the chaste sister-and- 
brother doll duo Sara and D: he is 
swathed in long, flowing robes, and he is 
clad in traditional Islamic clerical garb. 
We can't help but think the Iranians 
have missed the dhow—they could have 
adapted the true spirit of Barbie to their 
own culture. To help them grasp the 
fundamentals of marketing, we suggest 
they work on a new line of Barbies that 
would include Desert Barbie, Weeping 
and Wailing Barbie, Shoulder-Rocket 
Barbie and, for the cosmopolitan crowd, 
the stone-throwing Tehran Barbie. 


KILLER APPS 


The misfit applicants cited in a recent 
survey of personnel directors at 100 


ILLUSTRATION BY GARY KELLEY 


large corporations confirm that there's 
nothing more debasing than a job inter- 
view. The job-sccker who caught our сус 
was the well-adjusted guy who asked, 
“Would it be a problem if I'm angry most 
ofthe time?" No, butt munch—now shut 
the fuck up and get to the back of 
the line. 


TIP TEASE 


Bruce Willis earns $15 million a pic- 
ture, and his wife isn't far behind. Even 
so, reported the New York Observer, he 
handed out Christmas checks of $15 to 
$25 to the staff of his co-op building in 
New York City, where he owns a triplex. 
The minimum tip in that neighborhood 
apparently never dips below $50, and 
the insulted staff returned all 28 checks. 
Willis’ business manager, Joc McAllister, 
defended the former bartender, saying 
he was extremely generous. He claimed 
that there had been a “simple misundcr- 
standing." 


VENUS FLYTRAPS 


Seems fishermen's luck is changing on 
the other side of the big pond. English 
anglers report in The Field, an outdoors 
magazine, that they've had great success 
catching salmon with fishing flies made 
from women's pubic hair. 


SEAT OF POWER 


Given the mean-spirited tenor of par- 
tisan politics these days, it's remarkable 
that little has been made of the fact that 
for six years, a California manufacturer 
of toilets has been selling a popular mod- 
el called the Clinton. According to a 
spokesman for Western Pottery, cus- 
tomers react to this oddity according to 
party affiliation. Democrats emphasize 
the “takes a lot of crap but keeps on 
working” analogy, while Republicans 
mutter something like “another shithead 
named Clinton.” The president, flush 
with victory, hasn't commented. 


YO DEL MAMA 
Burcaucracy's capacity for irony never 
fails to impress us. For example, the 


RAW DATA 


QUOTE 

“If you want to 
turn on your boy- 
friend, get naked 
and strap on an ac- 
cordion."—sHERYL 
CROW IN A RECENT 
CONCERT AT MADISON 
SQUARE GARDEN 


MONEY SHOT 

According to Adult 
Video News, number 
of hard-core-video 
rentals in 1985: 75 
million. Number in 
1996: 665 million. 
The number of new 
hard-core-video ti- 
tles that were re- 
leased in 1995: 8000. 


CHIPS AHOY 
Percentage of this 
country's $15 billion snack food in- 
dustry devoted to potato chips: 30. 


SEARS MO' BUCKS 
Percentage of Americans with a net 
worth of more than $1 million who 
hold an American Express Platinum 
card: 6. Percentage of millionaires 
who hold a Sears charge card: 43. 


EVIAN, EVIAN EVERYWHERE 

According to the International Bot- 
tled Water Association, estimated 
number of gallons of bottled water 
Americans drink each year: 2.7 bil- 
lion. Percentage increase in bottled 
water consumption in the U.S. since 
1985: 151. 


UNCIVIL SUITS 
Percentage of Americans who think 
lawyers are rude: 35. 


CLUB SLUGS 
Number of Americans who were 
members of a health club last year: 
19 million. Amount spent on health 
club memberships: $6 billion. Num- 
ber of club members who never made 
it to the club: 1.3 million. 


IT TOLLS FOR THEE 
Number of crypts under construc- 
tion in California's Sunset Mission 


FACT OF THE MONTH 

In the course of an average 
lifetime, a person walks far 
enough to circumambulate 
the globe three times. 


SIGNIFICA, STATS AND FACTS 


Mausoleum, the na- 
tion's largest, to meet 
the needs of baby 
boomers: 30,000. 


PARTY ON 

Amount President 
Clinton raised dur- 
ing his 1992 primary 
election campaig, 
$25 million. Amount 
spent on Clinton's 
1997 inauguration: 
$32 million. 


CHOKE HOLD 

The average num- 
ber of peanut butter 
sandwiches the typi- 
cal child wolfs down 
by the time he or she 
graduates from high 
school: 1500. 


HIGH OVERHEAD 
Annual cost ofa Cannabis and Con- 
trolled Substances Dealer's License in 
Arizona: $100. 


SLIDING SCALE 

During physical exams, percentage 
of women who say they want to lose 
weight to improve their looks: 96. 
Percentage of men who say the same: 
11. Percentage of men who say they 
want to lose weight for health rea- 
sons: 51. Percentage of women who 
cite health as a factor in weight loss: 9. 


WHINE DECANTERS 
Percentage of Americans who say 
that depressed people would im- 
prove their condition if only they 
adopted a positive attitude: 75. 


PEST PANIC 
According to a survey by Orkin 
Pest Control, percentage of Ameri- 
cans who would rather clean the 
bathroom, go to the dentist or visit 
their in-laws than kill a bug with their 
bare hands: 71. 


THE BIG BANG 
Cost of a Methuselah of 1990 vin- 
tage Cristal champagne that will be 
sold for ringing in the millennium: 
$2000. —LAURA BILLINGS, 


creation of a Child Support Enforce- 
ment Task Force in Nevada was recently 
announced by Attorney General Frankie 
Sue Del Papa. 


BEHIND SINGLES BARS 


Vincent Tudisca filed suit against the 
dating service Together of New Hamp- 
shire, seeking a refund of $1195 in 
membership fees, plus damages. He ac- 
cused the company of failing to advise its 
members that they might be canceled (as 
he was) if they're in prison (ditto). Vin- 
cent, if you can't get a date in prison, you 
need more than a dating service. 


SANTA FEY 


Another reason why New Mexico is 
the land of enchantment: A group of 
massage therapists in Santa Fe formed 
the Massage Emergency Response Team 
to give firefighters, paramedics and po- 
lice officers a much-kneaded break at 
emergency sites. To underscore the seri- 
ousness of the response team, organizer 
Christine Bodman pointed out that she's 
worked with MERTS in such gritty lo- 
cales as Sedona, Boulder and San Fran- 
cisco. That certainly wipes the smirks off 
our faces. 


OIL OF OLEO 


Watch out for a new wave of oil slicks 
to hit beaches this year. According to Dr. 
Joaquin Breva, a clinical dermatologist 
at the University of Illinois, the best 
over-the-counter treatment for dry skin 
is Crisco. 


PARCHED FOR THE COURSE 


The world’s toughest round of golf? 
It's probably on the 90-acre Death Val- 
ley Golf Course, which boasts the lowest 
elevation—and some of the highest 
scores—on earth. Among the features 
designed to fluff up your handicap are 
120-degree days, coyotes that run off 
with rolling balls, dead bighorn sheep on 
the greens, a cattle herd or two, rat holes 
that swallow errant drives, a family of 
bobcats that lives near the fifth hole and, 
perhaps most perverse, the six water 
hazards on the front nine, Par is 70, not 
counting heat strokes. 


THE MUMMY'S CURSE 


Daily Variety reports that film transla- 
tors in Egypt have been warned by the 
Ministry of Culture to work on their 
English, or they will be fired. When The 
Deer Hunter was aired on TV, “Go fuck 
yourself” was interpreted in subtitles as 
/ou're not nice." In another film, the 
term "the computer is down" was trans- 
lated as "the computer is in the base- 
ment”—even though it was clearly on an 
upper floor of an office tower. The 
biggest stink was caused when a quip 
about W.C. Fields was turned into a ref 
erence to “toilet pastures.” 


Calvin Klein 


pe - u A 


a fragrance for a man or a woman 


eau de toilette 


for a man or a woman 


open fold for cKone 


MOVIES 


By BRUCE WILLIAMSON 


WRITER-DIRECTOR Kevin Smith, whose 
flashy debut with Clerks was followed by 
the disappointing Mallrats, gets back on 
track with Chesing Amy (Miramax). Wry, 
wise and sexually ambiguous, the movie 
dramatizes the plight of Holden and 
Banky (Ben Affleck and Jason Lee), two 
comic-book artists whose relationship 
begins to unravel when Holden falls for 
Alyssa (Joey Lauren Adams). Trouble is, 
she'sa professed lesbian as well as anoth- 
er comic-book artist. "I'm fucking gay,” 
she tells Holden, but then succumbs to 
his passion despite her female friends" 
disapproval. Holden doesn't mind how 
many women she's had, but he can't 
handle hearing about her earlier hetero- 
sexual exploits. Like the hero of Clerks, 
who is horrified to learn that his steady 
girl gave blow jobs to his best friends, 
Holden fumes over Alyssa's lurid past. 
He also suspects that he may be the tar- 
get of Banky's homoerotic fantasies. 
Holden's solution: *We've all got to have 
sex together." Chasing Amy makes lots of 
cheeky. unexpected moves, with deft 
performances from everyone, especially 
Adams. Smith gets all things about right 
in a young-at-heart comedy that's both 
trendy and poignant. ¥¥¥ 
. 


A fatal attraction is the bedrock of Inti- 
mate Relations (Fox Searchlight), set in a 
provincial English town during the Fif- 
ties. Based on a chilling true story, it's a 
lethal triangle involving a lusty middle- 
aged housewife, her sexually precocious 
daughter and the young ex-sailor who 
rents their spare room. Mrs. Beasley 
(played with her usual flair by Julie Wal- 
ters) makes the first overtures to the 
lodger (Rupert Graves), but has to share 
his bed with her rebellious 14-year-old 
(Laura Sadler) in order to keep the brat 
from telling her father. The woman's 
reckless obsession finally results in a 
bloodbath, but not in any usual way. lt 
would be wrong to reveal what happens 
and how. Just brace yourself. ¥¥¥ 


Siblings on opposite sides of the law 
stir up tension in A Brother's Kiss (First 
Look) by writer-director Seth Zvi Rosen- 
feld. Not unlike an old James Cagney 
movie—where Cagney emerges as the 
bad seed—Kiss emerges as a showcase 
for actor Nick Chinlund. Chinlund puts 
in a solid performance as Lex, the slum- 
bred New York kid who gets out of jail 
and dribbles away his hopes of basketball 
stardom by drifting into early marriage, 
petty crime and drugs. The movie covers 
familiar turf, with Michael Raynor as 
Nick's straight-arrow cop brother, Cathy 


Affleck and Adams: In the chase. 


Women with an agenda, 
men on a collision course 
and sex and splendor in China. 


Moriarty as their alcoholic single mom 
and Rosie Perez as Lex’ sadly neglected 
wife. Even in such good company, Chin- 
lund makes it virtually a one-man show 
with his definitive portrayal of a drug 
addict driven from hoop dreams to a liv- 
ing hell. УУУ; 
. 


Breathtakingly beautiful Gong Li 
turns out to be the main attraction in 
Temptress Moon (Miramax), despite the el- 
egant production surrounding her. Di- 
rector Chen Kaige (whose Farewell, My 
Concubine was an Oscar nominee and 
garnered top honors at Cannes in 1993) 
plunges his heroine into a maelstrom of 
opium, sex and splendor. It's the saga of 
the Pangs, a rich and decadent Chinese 
family that is totally unprepared for the 
new China taking shape in the years af- 
ter 1911. Gong Li plays the Pangs' willful 
daughter, hooked on smoking dope 
while making out with her poor cousin 
Duanwu (Kevin Lin) and the ambitious 
Zhongliang (Leslie Cheung), a former 
servant who becomes a blackmailing 
gigolo with underworld connections 
Banned in China, Temptress Moon is a 
heady display of deteriorating family 
values. YY/; 


The Australian-made political comedy 
Children of the Revolution (Miramax) earns 
points for outrageous originality. Judy 
Davis was named 1996's best actress by 


Australia's Film Institute for her por- 
trayal of a communist named Joan, 
whose dreams of world revolution— 
along with adoring letters to Joseph Sta- 
lin—win her an invitation to the Krem- 
lin in 1949. Oncc therc, she conccives a 
child either by the famed Soviet dictator 
(played with panache by F. Murray Abra- 
ham) or by a mysterious Russian known 
as Nine (Sam Neill). We never knov for 
sure. But decades later, baby Joe has 
grown into a Stalin look-alike (Richard 
Roxburgh) and a reluctant revolution- 
ary leader who loves spending time in 
prison. Director Peter Duncan, while ne- 
gotiating some rocky comic terrain, hits 
some slow spots as well as moments of hi- 
larity, Duncan's helpful supporting cast 
includes Oscar winner Geoffrey Rush (of 
Shine) as Joan's husband and Rachel 
Griffiths as Joe's wife. Duncan's droll 
take on political fanaticism is for viewers 
who are looking for something com- 
pletely different. УУ 


Julian and Jeremy, the twins at large 
in Twin Town (Gramercy), are a pair of 
wicked Welsh car thieves with a shocking 
flair for extracurricular violence. In the 
course of this lawless tragicomedy by co- 
author and director Kevin Allen, the 
lads (played by Llyr Evans and Rhys 
Ifans) behead a dog, pour urine over a 
pretty singer midway through a karaoke 
contest and turn an automatic garage 
door into a murder weapon. All this 
takes place in Swansea, Wales, described 
by one bent cop as “a pretty shitty city.” 
The reasons why are made clear in Al- 
len’s raw, blackly comic depiction of local 
choler. ¥¥ 

e 


Half a dozen exceptional women add 
to the impact of Paradise Road (Fox 
Searchlight), written and directed by 
Bruce Beresford. Glenn Close, Frances 
McDormand, Pauline Collins and Ju- 
lianna Margulies head the cast, with Aus- 
tralia's Cate Blanchett and England's 
Jennifer Ehle as new faces to remember. 
‘All portray nurses, wives or privileged 
darlings from Singapore in a Japanese 
prison camp on the island of Sumatra, 
where they are sweating out World War 
‘Two—some hanging on, some dying, 
some selling their souls to the enemy. 
Others form a choir, and their vocal or- 
chestra sings the classics, sans instru- 
ments, in a life-affirming gesture that 
even their brutal captors come to re- 
spect. The movie was inspired by the ac- 
tual experiences of English and Dutch 
women held prisoner in wartime. Its one 
unavoidable drawback, as usual, is its 
failure to make us accept fine-looking ac- 
tors as gaunt, starving POWs. Quibbles 


17 


Wilson: She's a big girl now. 


OFF CAMERA 


Ат 23, Miss Teen USA 1990, Brid- 
gette Wilson, has left her title be- 
hind. “I can't get away with that 
teen thing anymore,” she says. She 
left her hometown of Gold Beach, 
Oregon for Los Angeles, did a Sat- 
urday morning TV “kid show,” 
then a stint on the soap opera San- 
ta Barbara as a blonde bitch named 
Lisa. Next came her first film role, 
as Arnold Schwarzenegger's daugh- 
ter in Last Action Hero. "Arnold was 
wonderful. I did all my own 
stunts. After that, I was offered a 
regular job as a stunt girl." 

Turns out she didn't need it. 
Wilson did more stunts in Mortal 
Kombat. But it was her top role as 
Adam Sandler's teacher in Billy 
Madison that gave her a career 
boost and led USA Today to dub 
her a best bet for stardom. She 
went on strutting her stuff with a 
sexy featured role in Nixon. “I had 
one scene with Anthony Hopkins. 
I played a sort-of call girl. The 
script called for me to loosen Nix- 
on up; I was trying to get him into 
a back room.” Offscreen, Wilson 
lives on the beach in Santa Monica 
with her actress sister Tracy. While 
she values privacy, she doesnt 
mind her sultry image. "If some- 
one thinks I'm sexy, right on." 

Decide for yourself. Wilson is 
soon to be seen in Nevada, with 
Gabrielle Anwar and Amy Brenne- 
man. "I'm one of seven women in 
a desert town, and our men are 
working on a dam miles away. I 
give birth, and the baby is not my 
husband's, so I'm never sure he 
won't leave me. This is not a glam- 
orous role." Shell be more fetch- 
ing in The Real Blonde, playing a 
model, with Daryl Hannah as her 
rival for Maxwell Caulfield's affec- 
tions. Wilson would one day like to 
work with Ron Howard or Mel 
Gibson. She'd also like to get back 
10 the singing she used to do in lo- 
cal shows. “Either in movies or on 
the New York stage, I'd definitely say 
. I would love it.” 


aside, Paradise Road is a grueling and 
brilliant movie. ¥¥¥/2 
. 


A serial killer with a penchant for 
necrophilia figures prominently in Night- 
watch (Dimension Films), an eerie shock- 
er directed by Ole Bornedal. This Amer- 
icanized remake of Bornedal's Danish 
whodunit stars Nick Nolte as a police in- 
vestigator, along with Ewan McGregor, 
Josh Brolin and Patricia Arquette. Mc- 
Gregor plays a law student whose night 
job lands him, alone and spooked, in a 
bleak medical facility that includes the 
city morgue. Thrill seekers will be scared 
stiff even before the killer starts desecrat- 
ing corpses in a diabolical spree. ¥¥¥ 

. 


Speaking of necrophilia, Kissed (Gold- 
wyn) concerns a young woman named 
Sandra (Molly Parker) who works in a 
funeral parlor so she can secretly have 
sex by mounting the erect members of 
corpses. Her predilection attracts a med- 
ical student, Matt (Peter Outerbridge), 
with dire results. As co-author, co-pro- 
ducer and director, Lynne Stopkewich is 
clearly plugged into the kinky sensibility 
that has produced such recent attention 
grabbers as Lost Highway and Crash. 
"Thinner-skinned moviegoers may pre- 
fer yet another adaptation of Jane 
Austen. Y 


Two Irish American grifters who scam 
everyone they meet are on the go in 
Traveller (October Films). Bill Paxton 
leads the way, accompanied by Mark 
Wahlberg as a sort of apprentice con 
man. Their various rackets—fake roof- 
ing jobs or retarred driveways that last 
until the next rain—slow down a lot 
when Paxton falls for a single mom (Ju- 
lianna Margulies) and tries a big swin- 
dle he can't quite swing. Director Jack 
Green sets the action of Traveller to a live- 
ly country music score that supports the 
movie's easy air. УЗУ; 

е 


The disarmingly light-footed Јарап- 
ese film Shall We Dance (Miramax) begins 
with Shohei (Koji Yakusyo), a bored, 
married businessman and father who 
feels he's missing something. Heading 
home from work by train every night, he 
watches a fetching woman at the window 
of a second-floor dance studio. One day 
he decides to meet her and winds up be- 
coming a friend and student of the love- 
ly Mai (Tamiyo Kusakari). To the aston- 
ishment of his family, Shohei even enters 
a dance competition. Writer-director Ma- 
sayuki Suo has no fear of predictability 
or corny sentimentality. Even so, Shall We 
Dance is an appealing cross-cultural com- 
edy about today's Japan, where ball- 
room dancing embodies shameless West- 
ern frivolity. ¥¥¥ 


MOVIE SCORE CARD 


capsule close-ups of current films 
by bruce williamson 


Bliss (Reviewed 5/97) Young marrieds 
undertake a sexual crash course. ¥¥¥ 
Brassed Off (5/97) Musical banding to- 
gether of British coal miners. УУУ 
A Brother’s Kiss (See review) Bad son's 
sibling is a police officer. узу 
Chasing Amy (See review) Boys meet 
girl, and genders get confused. ¥¥¥ 
Childhood"s End (5/97) Real life getsun- | 
der way for a group of high school 
grads. EA 
Children of the Revolution (See review) A. 
rebel's baby sired by Stalin, maybe. ¥¥ 
A Chorus of Disapproval (4/97) British 
thespians find themselves seduced by 
Jeremy Irons. Wh 
Crash (4/97) Souped-up auto erotica 
directed by David Cronenberg. УУУ: 
Good Luck (4/97) An Oregon white-wa- 
ter rafi race with two physically chal- 
lenged guys. PA 
Intimate Relations (See review) British 
mom and daughter share a sexy 
lodger. yyy 
Inventing the Abbotts (5/97) Making out 
with some girls from the tony side of 


town. yyy 
Kama Sutra (4/97) Not the sex manual, 
but still elegantly erotic. wy 


Kissed (See review) She has a passion 
for stiffs in more ways than one. ¥ 
Kolya (3/97) In this Czech Oscar win- 
ner, a Russian tyke transforms a 
swinging middle-aged cellist. ¥¥¥/2 
Love Jones (5/97) Chicago-based ro- 
mance with a nice ethnic edge. ¥¥¥ 
Mandela (5/97) The man himself— 
and plenty of talking heads pay 
tribute. УУ 
Nightwatch (See review) Unnerving 
deeds of a serial killer who digs dead 
bodies. yvy 
Porodise Road (See review) Women 
sing out ina wartime Japanese prison | 
camp. We 
Private Parts (Listed only) Outrageous 
self-aggrandizement by shock jock 
Howard Stern. m 
Roseanno’s Grove (5/97) Italianate 
comedy, but in English, with Mer- 
cedes Ruehl. yy 
Shall We Dance (See review) Deft ball- 
room footwork—in Japan, of all 
places. yyy 
Smille's Sense of Snow (5/97) Ormond is 
chilly in an intriguing thriller. — ¥¥/2 
Temptress Moon (See review) A dynasty, 
opium dens and breathtakingly 
beautiful Gong Li. Wh 
Traveller (See review) Irish American 
con men hit the low road. Wie 
Twin Town (See review) A Welsh city 
torn up by incorrigible siblings. — YY 


¥¥¥¥ Don't miss 
¥¥¥ Good show 


¥¥ Worth a look 
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VIDEO 


GUEST SAT 


Dick Van Dyke fans 
can clearly see the 
influence of Stan Lau- 
rel in his physical 
comedy—so it's no 
surprise that Laurel 
and Hardy films top 
Van Oyke's regular 
replay list. "My fa- 
vorite is Way Out West," he says. "It's a 
classic example of their relationship, and it 
has a wonderful song-and-dance number." 
Van Dyke also gets laughs from Monty 
Python's Life of Brian and The Holy Greil ("| 
really miss that bunch”) and always has 
time for Arnold Schwarzenegger (he re- 
creates Terminator-type graphics on his 
computer and calls True Lies “a master- 
piece”). But does Rob Petrie's alter ego 
ever watch those timeless reruns of The 
‚Dick Van Dyke Show? "Nickelodeon once 
gave me the entire collection,” he says, 
“but | can't say | sit around looking at 
them.” That's OK—we do. —— ина COE 


VIDBITS 


Long before Nicolas Cage bottomed up 
and bottomed out in Las Vegas, visitors 
went to Sin City for one reason: to have 
fun. A&E captures that magic in its four- 
tape The Real Las Vegas ($59.95), a history 
of the gambling oasis from its Mormon 
roots and Mafia midlife to the eccentric 
rule of Howard Hughes and its modern- 
day resurrection. Interviews include 
Milton Berle and author Nicholas Pileg- 
gi. ... It's been 25 years since Francis 
Coppola's The Godfather first hit moviego- 
ers with more guts and gunpowder than 
the entire Jimmy Cagney collection. To 
honor the occasion, Paramount has is- 
sued a 25th Anniversary Limited Edition 
($149.95) that includes all three install- 
ments in wide-screen format with THX 
sound, a commemorative book, inter- 
views with the stars, a certificate of au- 
thenticity and a numbered gold plaque 
on the packaging. 


CULT CLASSICS 


Not every movie can play the midnight 
show for decades on end. It takes a spe- 
cial film to do that—one with a warped 
sense of reality, an oddball cast and a re- 
ally weird fan club. 

The Rocky Horror Picture Show (1975): The 


Kinky, cross-dressing granddaddy of 


them all. Tim Curry ain't half bad in 
black lingerie, but Susan Sarandon in a 
plain white bra gets our vote. So far the 
movie has pulled in $135 million—most- 
ly at midnight. 

Eraserhead (1978): David Lynch's bleak 


postindustrial nightmare induced a mil- 
lion pounding headaches. Anyone know 
what it's about yet? 

Harold end Maude (1972): Bud Cort is a 
20-year-old obsessed with death and in 
lust with 79-year-old Ruth Gordon. This 
isto dark comedy what espresso is to de- 
caf. Music by Cat Stevens. 

Pink Flamingos (1972): In John Waters’ 
gross-out fest, 300-pound Divine eats 
dog doo, retaining the title “filthiest per- 
son in the world.” Variety called it “one of 
the most vile, stupid, repulsive films ever 
made.” You'll love it too. 

Peeping Tom (1960): Suppressed for near- 
ly 20 years, Michael Powell's chilling 
study of a serial killer who films the faces 
of his victims is finally on video—thanks 
in part to fan Martin Scorsese. 

Repo Man (1984): Punker Emilio Estevez 
takes to a life of legitimized crime repos- 
sessing cars—including a Malibu with 
dead space aliens in the trunk. 

Blade Runner (1982): There's a galaxy of 
Web sites devoted exclusively to Ridley 
Scott's 21st century thriller about an ex- 
cop chasing down androids. And still no 
one can settle on the best ending. 

Dawn of the Dead (1978): His Night of the 
Living Dead may be scarier, but George 
Romero's Dawn offers up the ultimate 
lampoon of consumerism: The zombies 
take over a shopping mall. Chew on that. 
Foster, Pussycat! Kill! Kill! (1966): In the 
hands of high-camp director Russ Mey- 
er, boobs are weapons as hot-rodding su- 
pervixens kidnap, murder and raise hell 
in the desert. Don't wait for midnight— 
rent it now. —BUZZ MCCLAIN 


COMEBACK OF 
THE MONTH 
Over the years, 
Jacques Üemy's 


1964 musical, 
The Umbrellas 


of Cherbourg, 
took some bad 
knocks—the 


negatives fad- 

ed to pink and 

the sound 

clouded up. 

The good news? 

Fox Lorber's new restoration re- 

turns the French port to all its vibrant col- 
ors, while Michel Legrand's memorable 
score has been digitally remixed—bit by 
beautiful bit. Oh, yeah: Catherine Deneuve 
remains a knockout, too. 


LASER FARE 


Keep an ear to the ground for the re- 
mastered platter of Apocalypse Now (Pio- 
neer, $50). The Digital Dolby AC-3 
sound allows an even crisper playback 
of the helicopter assault scene that in- 
grained Wagner's Ride of the Valkyries 
into the mass musical lexicon. . . . 
"Turned on by trouble at sea but turned 
off by Titanic hype? Check out Twentieth 
Century Fox's gussied-up The Poseidon 
Adventure (1972). Best feature? Shelley 
Winters' buoyant performance. Can the 
girl swim or what? — —GREGORY P. FAGAN 


The Crucible (Day-Lewis ond Ryder ore willful victims of 
Solem witch-hunts; Miller's ploy finely recrafted for screen), 
Mother Night (vigorous spin on Vonnegut novel finds Nolte 
lacing Nazi radio rants with Resistonce code). 


Set It Off (Queen Lotifah leods sisters in bonk-robbing spree; 
greot music, Jodo Pinkett dozzles), The Funeral (Christophers 
Wolken ond Penn ore mobsters avenging brother's murder; 
rough stuff from Bad Lieutenant's Abel Ferraro). 


speore through the gen: 
All There Is (Poul Sorvino «s in hor 
| famiglia; Moonstruck meets Romeo and Juliet]. | 


22 


STYLE 


FOOT NOTES 


Leather sandals aren't just for hippie types. 
The classic summer look in woven leather 
has been around for decades, but design- 
ers have created dressier versions this 
season that are slick enough to be 
worn with a linen suit or sports 
jacket. One of our favorites is 
DKNY's Fisherman Slide, a slip- 
on sandal in dark brown or black 
calfskin featuring three wide 
horizontal straps 
and one vertical 
strap ($175). Equally suitable to wear with a 
suit is DKNY’s City Slide, a sandal made of 
sleek pressed leather with a single wide band, 
a side buckle and a rubber sole ($175). 
Joseph Abboud's variation in brown calf- 
skin has two wide 
bands, a leather 
back and a light- 
weight bottom 
($125). Designer 
Adam Derrick 
offers a classic 
black velour leather fisherman's san- 
dal ($190) as well as a high-shine 
two-band model ($180), both with gum- 
rubber soles and cushioned sock beds that 
keep your feet anchored. Bally's offers a con- 
temporary fisherman-style sandal with a woven 
and braided calfskin upper ($140, in brown or black), 
and a classic nubuck look in bone, cognac, black or 
brown ($215). Cole-Haan's san- 
dal is made of tan bridle 
leather ($145). Designer 
Kenneth Cole's English- 
style monk-strap version 
in brown (pictured bot- 
e 


tom left) or black calf- 
skin has a woven upper 
and triangle cutouts 
($118). Nicole Farhi offers a 
sleek brown leather double- 
strapped version ($110, pic- 
tured bottom right). And Bruno 
Magli has a couple of sandal options: 
One combines PVC and black leather 
with a pewter buckle and thick Vibram sole 
($225, pictured top right); the other is a 
slip-on mule with a horse bit ($215, pic- 
tured top left). In case you're wondering, 
all of the styles mentioned here are 
meant to be worn without socks. 


SWIMWEAR 


STYLE | 


COLORS AND FABRICS 


wi 


HOT SHOPPING: BERKELEY 


Summer solstice (June 21) in San Francisco means Making 
Waves, a daylong festival with 1200 local musicians playing on 


25 stages along Mar- 
CLOTHES LINE 


ket Street. In Berke- 
ley, a few cool stores 
are making waves Kevin Dobson, star of CBS’ Knots 
of their own. Dish Landing reunion miniseries, is as 
(2981 College Ave): capper as his character, Mack Mac- 
Stylish men’s and (ese ЖЫ 
women's sportswear ping, Dobson mixes a 
by young designers, traditional Brioni tuxe- 
Q ursa (291 do with a Calvin Klein 
Telegraph sve). flat-front pleated shirt. 
Hip-hop shirts and For casual occasions, 
jackets, clubwear he favors his Baumler 
and skateboards tweed jacket because 
Congo wath re “it’s so versatile and 
tooing and piercing. comfortable." Dob- 
services. e Amoe- son recently. started 
а оца (Paga wearing dark Hugo 
Aelegraph хер: Boss turtlenecks with 
Tough-to-ind new jackets. But when he 
and used CD im- dons a tie, it's an ani- 
ports, та! print from the World Wildlife 
bums and Fillmore. Fund. As for slacks, “I'd rather wear 
era Sixties band АТНЫ anything else.” His fa- 
posters. ө Мос'з vorite accessories are his Swiss and 
American railroad pocket watches, 
which remind him of his days work- 


Books (2476 Tele- 
graph Ave.): A 
ing for the Long Island Railroad. 


Berkeley institu- 
tion with thou- 
sands of new 
and used reads. e Jupiter (2181 Shattuck Ave.): This 
Gothic-style beer church has 30 microbrews on tap. 


SHORT CUTS 


Follicularly challenged Hollywood types are 
cutting their hair short because it looks mas- 
culine—and camouflages their hair loss. 
“They accept that their hair is thinning and 
they work with it," says stylist Michael diCe- 
sare, who grooms the guests (but not the 
star) of The Late Show With David Letterman. 
Caesar cuts and crops that taper in the back 
are two great ways to go. And a neat goatee 
or sculpted sideburns will divert attention 
from the hair toward the face. Other advice: 
Lo Try washing every day with a gentle shampoo such 
as American Crew's Daily Shampoo, and boost in- 
dividual hair strands by brushing American Crew's î 
Texture Creme or Michael diCesare's Amplifying? 
Tonic through your hair with a boar-bristle brush. $ 


OUT 


Athletic close-to-the-body fits, belted square 
cuts, slimmed-down boxer shorts 


Bold color-blocking, neon, logo prints, nylon 
subtle stretch spandex 


Knee-length board shorts, sloppy oversize 
jams, thongs or skintight briefs 


Washed-out pastels, Hawaiian and polka-dot 
prints, see-through white briefs, denim cutoffs 


HOW TO WEAR IT sunglosses, 


With a mesh T-shirt, а dive wotch, wrap 
lops or slide sandals 


With fluorescent zinc sunblock, hotel terry 
bathrobe, gold jewelry, sun visor or high-tops 


Where & How to Buy on page 170. 


MAN'S GUIDE DIAMONDS 


ARE YOU one of the TWO MILLION 
victims of ENGAGEMENT RING anxiety? 


1. Relax. Guys simply are not supposed to know 
this stuff. Dads rarely say, “Son, let's talk diamonds.” 
2. But it’s still your call. So read on. 


3. Spend wisely. Its tricky because no two diamonds 


are alike. Formed in the earth millions of years ago, 
diamonds are found in the most remote corners of 
the world. De Beers, the world’s largest diamond 
company, has over 100 years’ experience in mining 


and valuing. They sort rough diamonds into over 


5,000 grades before they go on to be cut and pol- 
ished. So be sure you know what you're buying. 
‘Two diamonds of the same size may vary widely 
in quality. And if a price looks too good to be true, 
it probably 1 
4. Leam the jargon. Your guide to quality and 
value is a combination of four characteristics called 
The 4 Cs, They are: Cut, not the same as shape, 
but refers to the way the facets, or flat surfaces, are 
angled. A better cut offers more brilliance; Color; 
actually, close to no color ts rarest; Clarity, the fewer 


natural marks, or “inclusions,” the better; Carat 
weight, the larger the diamond, usually the more rare. 
5. Determine your price range. What do you spend on the one woman in the world who is smart enough to marry you? 


Many people use the Avo months” salary guideline. Spend less and the relatives will talk. Spend more and they'll rave. 
6. Watch her as you browse. Go by how she reacts, not by what she says. She may be reluctant to tell you what she 
really wants. Then once you have an idea of her taste, dont involve her in the actual purchase. You both will cherish 
the memory of your surprise. 
7. Find a reputable jeweler, someone you can trust, to ensure you're getting a diamond you can be proud of. Ask 
questions. Ask friends who've gone through it. Ask the jeweler you choose why two diamonds that look the same are 
priced differently, Avoid Happy Harry’s Diamond Basement. 
8. Learn more. For the booklet “How to buy diamonds you'll be proud to give,” call 1-800-FOREVER, Dept. 21. 

9. Finally, think romance. And don't compromise. This is one of life’s most important occasions. You want a diamond as 


unique as your love. Besides, how else can two months’ salary last forever? 


Diamond Information Center 
Sponsored by De Beers Consolidated Mines, Ltd., Est. 1888 


A diamond is forever. 


De Beers 


ROCK 


MOST BANDS begin with teen angst and 
work toward resolution and hope. But 
U2 started out as Christian idealists and 
spent the Nineties backtracking to cover 
the dark stuff. Ihe group's 1991 release, 
Achtung Baby, acknowledged the slippery 
surfaces of modern life. U2's latest, Pop 
(Island), continues in much the same 
vein, with a few stylistic adjustments. 
The warped, ambient textures of Ach- 
tung have been replaced on Pop by tech- 
no's throbbing dance beat. The Edge's 
guitar chimes and blurs are now closer 
to Pearl Jam's crunch and roar. But what 
keeps Pop just an interesting album 
rather than a compelling one is that U2 
does sincerity much better than it does 
irony. Discotheque and Miami capture 
some of electronic dance music's ex- 
hilaration, but the techno pulse is gen- 
erally neither mesmerizing nor mind- 
numbing. And there's nothing off-base 
about a band known for hanging out 
with supermodels writing The Playboy 
Mansion, a song describing a secular 
heaven. But do we detect just a bit of 
irony? — VIC GARBARINI 


Don't be fooled: Techno isn't every- 
thing. Bands with good songs will never 
go out of fashion, and Nerf Herder, a 
pop-punk trio out of Santa Barbara, has 
lots of good songs on Nerf Herder (Arista). 
In fact, the songs are not only good, 
they're also funny and accessible. So 
there's no reason not to like these guys, 
unless you happen to be in Van Halen, 
which takes it on the chin in the song Van 
Halen. Years ago, I said in these pages 
that Sammy Hagar sucked the mop and 
was a disastrous replacement for David 
Lee Roth. Nerf Herder confirms my sen- 
timents: "Dave lost his hairline, but you 
lost your cool, buddy/Can't drive 55/1 
never buy your lousy records again." 
Other subject matter includes trying to 
convince your girlfriend you're cool 
even though you wear a golf shirt, and 
giving up meat to impress a girl with a 
nose ring. 

Frank Zappa's work ranges from ob- 
scure avant-garde compositions to 
raunchy novelty singles. He could be ar- 
rogant and bitter, but he could also be 
hilarious and fearless in addressing top- 
ics that no one else would touch. Have I 
Offended Someone? (Rykodisc) collects 15 
of Zappa's more offensive tunes, and 
most of them are exhilarating. 

—CHARLES M. YOUNG. 


Punk has helped unschooled talents 
shape their feelings and ideas. No one's 
done more with punk recently than 
Corin Tucker, first with the duo Heavens 
to Betsy and now with the trio Sleater- 

24 Kinney. On Sleater-Kinney's third CD, 


U?'s Pop disc moves the group into new 
territory: It even features a tune about the 
Playboy Mansion. Can you find the hidden 
Rabbit Head on the cover? Hint: It's an eyeful. 


Dig Me Out (Kill Rock Stars, 120 NE State 
Avenue, #418, Olympia, Washington 
98501), Tucker's enormous voice is pow- 
ered by riffs that seem unstoppable. 
Tucker's music, supported by Carrie 
Brownstein's equally passionate high 
harmonies, makes the lyrics seem new 
and meaningful. 

My vote for the catchiest young pros 
to pretend they're alternative: Fountains 
of Wayne (Atlantic). On their debut, they 
sing the kind of words every shy guy 
who didn't get the girl thinks of. 

— ROBERT CHRISTGAU 


Morcheeba is the latest U.K. import to 
be tagged a trip-hop band. On the 12 at- 
mospheric tracks of Morcheeba's U.S. 
debut, Who Can You Trust? (China/Discov- 
ery), singer Skye Edwards croons over 
seductive sonic textures provided by 
brothers Ross and Paul Godfrey. Their 
formula invites comparisons to Por- 
tishead and Tricky. But where Por- 
tishead can sound sinister and Tricky 
can sound deranged, Morcheeba has a 
blissed-out hippie vibe that makes it both 
less abrasive and less compelling. Moog 


Island, the sitar textures of Trigger Hippie 
and the title track are all apt examples 
of Morcheeba's atmospheric approach 
"Irip-hop, with its roots in hip-hop sam- 
pling and ambient, may not be the 
best new direction in music. But its in- 
ternational appeal marks it as one of 
this decade's most distinctive musical 
hybrids. — NELSON GEORGE 


RAP 


DJ Muggs, the demonic genius behind 
Cypress Hill's odes to marijuana and 
crime, has come up with an all-star col- 
lection that may be the year's best hip- 
hop offering. Muggs Presents the Soul Assas- 
sins (Columbia) features performances 
by rap stars from the East Coast (К. 
One, Mobb Deep, RZA, GZA/Genius) 
and the West (Dr. Dre, MC Eiht, LA the 
Darkman). Muggs shows that his minor- 
chord samples and dry beats work. This 
is a rare posse record that shows all the 
attitude of a well-developed album. 

—NELSON GEORGE 


COUNTRY 


Anita Cochran has the looks, vocal 
chops and songwriting skills to be 
Nashville's next mainstream sweetheart. 
So why do some Music City good old 
boys consider her subversive? Because 
on Back to You (Warner Bros.) she proves 
she's one of the best electric guitar pick- 
ers in town. In fact, she plays all guitar 
leads and mandolin and dobro parts on 
the album. Half the songs on her debut 
are standard tearjerkers and odes to big 
hats and fast cars. But the rest, especially 
the title cut, is a daring exploration of a 
modern woman's turmoil. An even larg- 
er helping of her dazzling fret work 
would be welcome next time. Try to 
catch her live. — VIC GARBARINI 


JAZZ 


There has never been a better intro- 
duction for novices to jazz’ vast middle 
ground than Roots of Jazz Funk: Volume One 
(МУР, c/o React Recordings, 9157 Sun- 
set Boulevard, Suite 210, West Holly- 
wood, CA 90069). After the bebop rev- 
olution of the Forties, bebop's more 
accessible soul jazz offshoot produced a 
small-group scene dominated by Art 
Blakey, Horace Silver, Cannonball Ad- 
derley, Lee Morgan and Freddie Hub- 
bard. Each is represented here by a just- 
ly renowned turn. So are the geniuses 
(John Coltrane, Sonny Rollins and 
Charles Mingus) and the crossover kings 
(Herbie Hancock, Wes Montgomery and 
Jimmy Smith). —ROBERT CHRISTGAU 


WATER ET 


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"Irombonist Steve Turre uses seashells 
as miniature horns; they have a balmy 
tone that fits perfectly with his keen in- 
terest in Caribbean rhythms and idioms. 
Steve Turre (Verve) offers a panoramic pic- 
ture of the African diaspora. He gives a 
jazz-bossa charge to Ellington's In a Sen- 
timental Mood —with a jolt supplied by 
guest vocalist Cassandra Wilson—and an 
all-star cast of U.S. and Latin American 
jazzmen do the rest. 

Leading all-star musicians in a reper- 
toire of stone bebop, Chick Corea made 
big waves on last year's concert circuit. 
You'll hear why on Remembering Bud Pow- 
ell (Stretch), which stars trumpeter Wal- 
lace Roney, saxophonist Joshua Redman 
and the music of Powell himself—the 
bop piano great and Corea's idol. 

—NEIL TESSER 


FOLK 


As Texas troubadors whose art is sus- 
pended somewhere between outlaw 
country and post-Dylan folk, Guy Clark 
and the late Townes Van Zandt would 
seem to have a lot in common. Their 
lyrical gifts are as great as their talents 
for misbehavior. Neither is interested in 
writing conventions, nor has much of a 
voice. Nor have Clark or Van Zandt writ- 
ten many hits or sold many records. Yet 
each belongs on any list of the best con- 
temporary songwriters. With the near- 
simultaneous release of live albums, the 
contrasts between Clark and Van Zandt 
become more apparent. On Reor View 
Mirror (Sugar Hill), Townes Van Zandt is 
an abstractionist. Narrative and charac- 
ter are subordinated to the grand 
overview. Pancho and Lefty, his most fa- 
mous song and the one that opens up 
this set, is saturated with the poetic fatal- 
ism and doomed romanticism that ani- 
mates less specific numbers such as To 
Live Is to Fly. 

Characters and narrative are lifeblood 
for Guy Clark. Keepers (Sugar Hill) spins 
so many yarns and digs up so many 
quirky folks that it's tempting to listen to 
it in sections. But don't, because Clark's 
performances are essential to his mean- 
ing. The best way to appreciate Keepers is 
to pick up The Essential Guy Clark (RCA), 
and hear the young Clark sing Despera- 
dos Waiting for a Train, Texas 1947 and 
L.A. Freeway. Clark's smoky voice has 
matured like brandy, which doubles the 
intensity of his own ironic fatalism. Keep- 
ers is dedicated to Van Zandt, who died 
this past New Year's Day. 

"The much younger singer Jimmy La- 
Fave draws on both Townes Van Zandt 
and Guy Clark as well as heartland rock- 
ers such as Bruce Springsteen and Lyn- 
yrd Skynyrd's Ronnie Van Zant. But 
more than anything else, Road Novel 
(Rounder) is dominated by the yearn- 
ing sounds of LaFave's great high-ten- 
or voice, —DAVE MARSH 


FAST TRACKS 


OC K 


METER 


Christgau 
Guy Clark 
Keepers 7 7 7 8 6 
6 6 7 6 7 
Morcheeba 
Who Con You Trust? 8 6 8 6 6 
Various artists 
Roots of Jozr Funk 10 2) z 9 8 
6 8 8 6 6 


NO GRAFFITI IN THE BATHROOM DEPART- 
MENT: Former Tolking Head David Byrne 
has been decorating the new pay-toi- 
let kiosks in San Francisco. A series of 
photo murals titled Stairway to Heav- 
en features images of weapons and 
money. Slightly unsettling if you're 
trying to pee. 

REELING AND ROCKING: Dick Clark and 
Danny DeVito are teaming up to make a 
movie based on American Bandstand. It 
will be about four generations of kids 
who become instant stars and how 
they are affected by their fame. . . . 
The still divine Bette Midler is making 
a film based on the TV show Green 
Acres. Bette would be perfect as Eva 
Gabor's character, Lisa Douglas. 

INEWSBREAKS: Butthole Surfers drum- 
mer King Coffey has produced and 
hosts an Internet show called Brain- 
wash on the band’s Web site (www.butt 
holesurfers.com, Brain page www. 
monsterbit.com/brainwash). The show 
features music and commentary, as 
well as posted playlists so listeners can 
identify the obscure artists. . . . Metalli- 
ca’s Enter Sandman has been recorded 
by Pat Boone, and now you'll be able to 
hear it played by four cellos. Members 
of the Sibelius Academy in Helsinki 
call themselves Apocalyptico, and they 
aren't far from wrong. Everdeor's 
next album will be out this fall. Mean- 
while, singer and lyricist Art Alexakis 
has been on a solo acoustic tour. . . . 
The Box Tops, known for The Letter and 
Cry Like a Baby, have reunited for an 
album and a tour. . . . Visit the Fugees 
at their Web site and play the Internet 
game based on the single Ready or Not. 
The Web site also features a chance 
for users to remix a Fugees song. 
Check out www.mediadome.com/web 
isodes/fugees. . .. Look for INXS to tour 
this summer. . . . Chaka Khan is hosting 
a new radio request show on Los An- 
geles” B100.3 called Romance After 


Hours. You'll be able to dedicate songs 
to your loved ones Mondays through 
‘Thursdays after ten рм... . RCA is 
launching The Bluebird Blues & Her- 
itage Series, an ambitious release of 
rare archival prewar and postwar 
blues. Artists include Sonny Boy Wil- 
liamson, Tampa Red, Blind Willie McTell, 
Memphis Minnie and Big Maceo. RCA 
will release these CDs a few at a time 
until the vault is cleared. . . . You'll 
want to get yourself to the Rock and 
Roll Hall of Fame and Museum be- 
tween now and February 1998 for Г 
Want to Take You Higher: The Psychedelic 
Era 1965-1969. It features all the 
good stuff—sex, drugs and rock and 
roll. . . . Green Doy has postponed 
recordings until its longtime produc- 
er is available, but Billie Joe Armstrong 
has produced a song for Demi Moore's 
movie In Pursuit of Honor, performed 
by Exene Cervenkovo's new band, Auntie 
Christ. . . . After turning up his nose 
at Lollapalooza, Neil Young has con- 
firmed that he will be headlining 
H.O.R.D.E. this summer. . . . Ani Di- 
Franco has just released her first live 
album, to be followed by a studio al- 
bum in the fall. The live CD includes 
four songs that haven't previously been 
recorded... . A new book of photos of 
homeless children, The Invisible Home- 
less, is accompanied by a CD that fea- 
tures Eric Clapton, Joni Mitchell, Cher and 
Me'Shell Ndegéocello. The CD is sold 
only with the book. . . . The Beatles 
memorabilia auction this past March 
in Tokyo allowed Europeans to bid via 
phone, fax and the Internet. Items in- 
cluded Paul McCartney's birth certifi- 
cate, which sold for $84,146. . . . 
Speaking of auctions, a pillowcase that 
Michael Jackson slept on when he was 
in India was auctioned off for 
$10,000, which will go to charity. 
What's next? How about soap on a 
rope? — BARBARA NELLIS 


25 


Him Beam әм, Straight Tong los: AUS Meal. 021997 Jarno В: Beam Distilling Co Clermont, i Д TOT ТЕТ 


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KENTUCKY STRAIGHT 
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pt Û 


© Philip Morris Inc" 1997. 


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


WIRED 


=== 


ENTERTAINMENT TO ORDER 


It happens all the time. You drive to the 
video store intent on renting a specific 
movie, only to find that all 20 copies are 
out. Well, get ready to save yourself a 
trip. Thanks to an emerging technology 
called Electronic Digital Delivery, you'll 
soon be able to order movies, music and 
video games and have your selections 
immediately downloaded to a television, 
videocassette recorder or PC. The mate- 
rial is digitally compressed in a way that 
allows a feature film to be transferred in 
as little as five minutes via satellite, mo- 
dem or phone line. EDD improves on 
pay-per-view by allowing you to deter- 
mine when you want to play your selec- 
tion, since the data actually reside in a 
chip in your VCR or computer until ac- 


30 


tivated. Once the chip is decoded, the 
EDD-equipped machine delivers digital- 


quality images and sound for the price of. 


a standard video rental. The catch: You 
can enjoy the selected item only twice be- 
fore it's removed from memory. To buy 
(or tape) it, you'll have to pay a higher 
price. New-generation digital VCRs with 
the EDD feature are expected from 15 
manufacturers, including JVC, Sony 
and Pioneer, early next year. Television 
sets are in the works, too, but there are 
no prices yet. 


BRAIN SAVERS? 


There's still debate over the danger of 
electromagnetic radiation emitted by 
cellular phones. Reed Hundt, chairman 
of the Federal Communications Com- 
mission, assured us there's no problem: 
“We're confident the phones' emission 
levels are in the safe zone." Even so, it 
doesn't hurt to be cautious when it 
comes to your brain—a fact that has 
prompted two companies to develop 
low-cost cell phone accessories that re- 
duce exposure to electromagnetic radia- 
tion. Kelser Ltd.'s Rad Gap is one varia- 
tion. It’s a plastic-and-rubber extender 
that snaps onto a cell phone's earpiece to 
put some distance between you and the 
“near field” radiation that’s strongest an 
inch or two from the antenna. Codem 


Retail's Phone Shield, which 
straps around the carpiece 
and top of the phone (similar 
10 a car bra), deploys a metal 
plate to reflect the movement 
of radio waves away from your 
head. "The message we're 
sending is not one of fear," 
says Codem's John Gargasz, 
"but of providing a level of in- 
surance until studies are con- 
clusive." The price for this in- 
surance: $30 for either device. 


CB REVIVAL 


With Lava lamps and Seven- 
ties fashions all the rage, it 
would be easy to pass off the 
return of the citizens-band radio as an- 
other retro fad. But CB sales are at their 
highest point in 20 years for three rea- 
sons—the radios sound better, look bet- 
ter and are a smart alternative to cell 
phones. Besides featuring technology 
that virtually eliminates noise and static, 
new-model CBs are smaller and sleeker 
than their clunky predecessors, allowing 
them to blend well with today’s car audio 
systems. Another cool CB tech advan- 
tage: multiple weather-service channels 
that offer 24-hour local forecasts and 
highway info. And handheld CBs, the 
fastest-growing segment of the market, 
fit into a briefcase, providing the road- 


Breaker. Bran N 
This is Dogtace. 
Come on back. 


safety assurance of a cellular phone 
without the hefty fees. If you're ready to 
"breaker, breaker" onto the scene, we 
suggest starting with a portable. Among 
the best is Cobra's shirt pocket-size HH- 
45WX ($150). Currently the smallest 
handheld CB radio available, it features 
the company's Sound Tracker noise-re- 
duction technology (patent pending). 
Midland's slightly larger 75-400 ($200) 
lets you conserve juice with a battery- 
saving power switch. And for big 
spenders, Uniden's Trunk Tracker 
BC235 Г ($500) features a scanner 
that can lock onto a conversation and 
follow it through channel changes. 


— —HEILLIZENM 


Too much static electricity can fry your electronics gear, but we've faund a solution. Ul- 
trastot ($70, pictured below) is a polm-sized device that protects television sets and per- 
sanal computers by absorbing the static before it can shack your system. You'll know 
Ultrastat is working when a cartoonish guy appears on the LCD screen—getting 
zopped. Better him thon your gear. e Tetris addicts can keep their favorite game as 
clase at hand os their house keys. Tetris Jr., o 1" x 2.5" key-chain version of the block- 
buster brainteoser, comes complete with sound (which you con turn off) ond puzzles 
that become increasingly challenging as you rack up points. The price: $10. e Atlantic, 
Inc. has designed a media storage system that blends perfectly with today’s contem- 
porary home-entertainment centers. The steel Multi-Media Towers (in single- and dau- 
ble-width form) stand 72 inches high and have adjustable shelves for 


CDs, videacossettes and audiocassettes and boaks. Table- 
top versions that measure two feet high are also 


available. Prices range from $25 to 
$90, ond you con choose 
between block and 
groy finishes. Mag- 
navox has made 

a smart match- 
up. lts MX956 
PRO audio- 
video receiver 
combines a Dal- 
by Pro Logic de- 
coder with three 
surraund modes 
and o seven-disc 
CD chonger. The 
price: obout $450. 


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FUN AND GAMES 
Loaded with conceptual art and music, 
Peter Gabriel's Eve is less a game than an 
artistic exploration. Though framed as 
an adventure in which the player must 
help Adam (Gabriel) find Eve in order to 
restore life to a barren planet, the real 
fun lies in collecting hidden sound bites, 
The visuals and audio clips (fragments of 
classic and unreleased Gabriel cuts) can 
then be combined to create personal 
music videos. (From Real World, for Mac 


and Windows, $50.) 


Quirky characters and realistic physics 
make Ten Pin Alley the league champion of 


CYBER SCOOP 


xl Microsoft has bundled some of 
its best softwore into Home Essen- 
tials 97. For $109, you get more 
than half a dozen programs, in- 
cluding the latest versions of Mi- 
crosoft Word, Works and Encarta, 
plus Microsoft's Internet Explorer 


Web browser ond two free 
months of unlimited access fo the 
Microsoft Network. 


l^ A big-screen spin-off of The East 

— Village (www.eostvilloge.com) is 

in the works. No releose dote 

yet, but the film will be titled The 
Wedding. 


bowling games. In addition to choosing 
among 12 custom characters (each with 
unique skills and styles of play), you can 
also select the weight and coating of the 
ball and the condition of the lane. The 
ability to include up to six players per 
game adds to the fun. (From ASC 
Games, for Playstation, Saturn and 

Windows, $50 to $60.) 


Banzai Bug combines sim- 
plified flight elements 
with offbeat humor 
and colorful deco 
graphics in a flying 
game that’s a lot more 
fun than the average 
simulator. Your mis- 
sion is to navigate Ban- 
zai through the eight 
rooms of the house that 
make up the game's levels. In 
each room there are 
tasks to be accom- 
plished while fighting off a variety of 
foes, including the inhospitable giants 
that inhabit your home. In the funniest 
level, you're charged with protecting a 
32 swarm of dim-witted grubs as they at- 


Gobriel's gallery of ort ond music 


tempt to collect chunks of earwax from a 
sleeping human. (From Grolier, for Win- 
dows 95, $40.) 


The Game Shark takes a bite out of your 
toughest video opponent with cheats for 
most titles available on Playstation, Sat- 
urn and Nintendo 64. Just plug the car- 
tridge into your gaming memory slot to 
unlock a preloaded database of level-ac- 
cess, weapon and power-up codes. The 
manufacturer also offers a constantly up- 
dated 900 number for new cheats on the 
latest releases. 
(From Interact 
Accessories, 
about $50.) 


BRAIN 
BRAWN 
This summer, 
instead of 
thumbing 
through books 
of diagrams on 
how to build 
your work- 
bench or deck, 
check out one 
of the software titles from Books That 
Work. Visual Home, 3D Landscape and 3D 
Deck show you how to design and build 
just about anything around the house 
with animated step-by-step instructions. 
What's more, the programs also let you 
see your planned projects from several. 
vantage points: above, around and— 
thanks to budgeting functions—from 

the wallet. (For Windows, $40 to $50.) 


With Career Toolbox, Chivas Regal has 
created the perfect guidance coun- 
selor—it gives great advice and appoint- 
ments aren't necessary. Just pop the disc 
into your CD-ROM drive for smart tips 
on planning a career or enhancing the 
one you've already started. You can sam- 
ple résumé styles and cover letters, and 
find useful info on a range of topics 
from the 20 hottest jobs of the 
Nineties to how to start 
your own business 
"Thoughtfully organized 
with jazzy graphics, 
Career Toolbox is es- 
pecially noteworthy. 
because it's free. All 
you pay is $4.95 for 
shipping. 


SURF CENTRAL 
As long as you're in a ca- 
reer-planning mode, you 
might want to try to 
Neta job. Many of the 
nation’s top employers now recruit via 
the Web. The best sites, including the 
Monster Board (www.monsterboard.com), 
Career Site (www.careersite.com) and Ca- 
reer Builder (www.careerbuilder.com), 


combine helpful tips with features that 
minimize the most common job-hunting. 
hassles. Instead of flipping through 
dozens of classified ads, for example, 
search engines at each site help narrow 
positions by fields of interest, locations 
and salary levels. All three sites include 
“intelligent agents,” which continue to 
search listings while you're off-line, pro- 
viding weekly or sometimes daily up- 
dates in private mailboxes when you log 
on. Career Builder includes a variety of 
financial calculators, induding one that 
helps deter- 
mine the sal- 
ary you'd need 
to make in a 
new city to 
maintain your 
current stan- 
dard of living. 
And most sites 
also offer ad- 
vice on résumé 
and cover-let- 
ter writing. (To 
speed up the 
process, you 
can even fire 
off résumés to some Net recruiters on- 
line.) A few other sites to check out: Ca- 
reerpath.com (www.careerpath.com) lets 
you search through the help-wanted sec- 
tions of major newspapers, including 
The New York Times, the Los Angeles Times 
and The Washington Post. Overseas Job Ex- 
press (www.overseasjobs.com) links you 
to employers abroad while providing de- 
tails on applying for a visa, a green card 
and even a new nationality. America’s Job 
Bonk (www.ajb.dni.us/) includes a mix of 
blue-collar and white-collar jobs as well 
as government opportunities. And final- 
ly, Cool Jobs (www.cooljobs.com) can hook 
you up with hip hirers such as MTV, 
Club Med and Lucasarts. 


DIGI L DUDS 


Catfight: Skanky girls in sleazy 
outfits are motched with bottom- 
of-the-borrel progromming to 
win the title os the worst PC 
fighting game of oll time. 


Virtua Fighter PC: Coming in a 
close second, this onemic Win- 
dows version of the impressive 
Soturn fighting game deserves to 
have sond kicked in its face. 


Smart Games Word Puzzles: Re- 
defining tedium, the lockluster 
word-based brainteosers in this 
PC title moke Wheel of Fortune 
seem modcap by comparison. 


See whot’s hoppening on Playboy's 
Home Роде ot http://www. playboy.com. 


WHERE & HOW TO BUY ON PAGE 170 


VODKA 


Pour an ounce and a half of Skyy vadka over ice and add three-quarters of an ounce of Kahlua? 
Also known as a Black Russian, Russian Skyy, Skyy Kahlua Rocks. For exceptionally clean, clear vodka 
produced by four-column distillation and triple filtration, always reach for the Skyy. 


40% ale/vol (80 Proof) 100% grain neutral spirits. ©1997 Skyy Spirits, Inc., San Francisco, California. 


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are eight downright fabulous options befitting a dad 


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TRAVEL 


DON'T LEAVE HOME WITHOUT IT 


When we asked frequent travelers what items they take with 
them on the road, their answers ranged from superglue 
(Doug Lansky, author of the newspaper column "Vagabond") 
to a sommelier's corkscrew that John Mariani, a columnist for 
Wine Spectator magazine, once used to pry open a stuck eleva- 
tor door. Richard Carleton Hacker, author of The Ultimate Ci- 
gar Book, totes a leather-covered Daniel Marshall travel humi- 
dor. (His favorite road smokes include Fuente Hemingways, 
Punch Grand Crus and Partagás Serie D robustos.) Peter 
Greenberg, travel editor for NBC's Today, carries $100 worth 
of $2 bills for tips (“People remember you") and 
an eight-pack of AA batteries because he 
hates to pay airport prices for them. 
Rudy Maxa, travel commentator 
for public radio, takes bags of 
unread magazines and news- 
papers aboard when he flies, 
using the time to peruse 
and toss. Crain's Chicago 
Business restaurant critic 
Anne Spiselman travels 
with a picnic kit that in- 
cludes a champagne corker, 
a portable pepper mill, pack- 
ets of mustard and ketchup 
and a miniature bottle of co- 
gnac. Michael Jackson (not the 
singer), one of the world's foremost 
authorities on alcoholic beverages, never 
travels without a screwdriver small enough to 
mend his eyeglasses. When he flies, he carries on a change of 
clothes “in case I spill my bloody mary on myself.” PLAYBOY'S 
Contributing Automotive Editor, Ken Gross, always packs his 
favorite Swiss Army Knife and a Mini-Maglite "because you 
never know when you might have to crawl out of a burning 
building." Talk about being prepared. 


NIGHT MOVES: CAPE TOWN 


The “Tavern of the Seas,” as South Africa's oldest city is nick- 
named, has a temperate climate, world-class nightlife and a 
scrillion women of the maximum babe classification. 
After a day at the beach, begin your evening with sun- 
set drinks at Cantina Tequila in the bustling Victoria & 
Alfred Waterfront mall. Then drift over to the Green 
Dolphin, also in the V and A, for antipasto and the best 
live jazz in town. To sample traditional South African 
cuisine, such as springbok goulash or seafood bobotie, 
try the Kaapse Tafel restaurant (90 Queen Victoria 
Street). The dining room in the posh Mount Nelson hotel 
(76 Orange Street) serves continental cuisine on a grand 
scale. Coat and tie are required—as is an ample bank ac- 
count. After dinner, stroll the landscaped gardens or relax 
in the hotel's handsome bar. For more drinks and music, 
head to the corner of Bree and Waterkant, the heart of the 
city's nightlife. Madhouse (45 Waterkant) offers Latin Amer- 
ican tunes, and Browne's Cafe (24 Waterkant) spins acid jazz, 
but it's best to stick your head into a few doors and find a spot 
that feels right. Most bars stay open until two a.m.—clubs with 
extra-late licenses can stay open until dawn and charge a 
nominal entry fee. Hemingway's (96 Strand Street) is where 
wannabe Cindys and Naomis hang cut. The Lounge (194 
Long Street) appeals to jazz enthusiasts, while the Crow Bar 
(43 Waterkant) plays oldies. If you're still up at sunrise, take 
an early morning tram to the top of Table Mountain. It's a 
36 view of the city that you will always remember. 


CRYSTAL CREEK LODGE 
From mid-June until late September, one of North Ameri- 
ca's DEED piscatory secrets is open for business—and 
that's no fish story. Situated in southwest Alaska, 25 miles 
northwest of Dillingham, Crystal Creek Lodge is a fishing 
camp that's about as rustic as Versailles. Within the main 
lodge (pictured here) are 13 guest rooms with private 
baths, plus such civilized amenities as a spa and sauna, a 


video screening room, a well-stocked bar and even a 
masseuse, Nouveau and continental cuisine is offered in 
the dining room. Salmon, trout, northern pike and arctic 
grayling are just some of the catches of the day—and 
there's waterfowl hunting, too. A week's stay costs $4950 
per person, including room, board, rods, reels, tackle, 
guide fees and transportation to fishing sites aboard the 
lodge's float planes, helicopter or power boats. Call Crys- 
tal Creek at 800-525-3153 for more information. 


ROAD STUFF 


Not only does Sony's new digital CD/AM/FM Stereo Travel 
Clock Radio (pictured here) awaken you to the CD track of 
your choice (or the radio or an alarm), it also has world time- 
zone buttons that arc so simple you can operate them while 
half asleep. Plus, the radio-CD player closes up like a clam 
for easy packing. Price: about $200, including headphones. 
* Runnin' Cool is a soft-sided vacuum bottle in one-liter and 
1.5-liter sizes that uses "evaporative cooling" to keep the con- 
tents icy cold for four to six hours. 
The bottles have handles, so you 
can use them for upper-body 
conditioning while jogging and 
then drinkor dump the contents 
afterward. As the company (at 
800-582-6651) says, "It sure 
beats carrying your refrigerator 
ith you.” Price: $28 and $30. 
© White-knucklers may wish 
to subscribe to Happy Landings, 
a quarterly newsletter pub- 
lished for those “who fly but 
prefer their feet plant- 
ed firmly on the 
ground.” The 
price is $19 
a year, sent 
to Happy 
Landings 
Newsletter at 
205 Bell Ringer 
Court, Newark, Del- 
aware 19702. 


WHERE & HOW TO BUY ON PAGE 170. 


PARLIAMENT 


PERFECT RECESS 


8 mg "tar" 0.7 mg nicotine av per cigarette by 


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


I A PART OF YOUR BRAIN that thinks clothes are overrated 


and loves to beat on drums 


and is not afraid of the IRS. 


IT RELAXES WITH A COOL 
MOUNT GAY ON THE ROCKS. 


YOU HAVENT BEEN THERE 
AND YOU HAVENT DONE IT 


————— = jae 


„o ONZA 
7 N IN WC | 
\ \ 4 N 


/ W | i N d 


AM 
CUT 


CAN YOU CUT TT ON THE CUTTY 


This summer, a crew of eight Americans will If vou think this sounds like the perfect 
set sail on a tall sh vou, drop us a short letter and tell 
co 


TY SARK TALL SHIPS RACES, NORTH Y CRE 1528 


REW? 


from Scotland to Norway across adventure for yo 


sailing experience is necessary, us why. If we Я 
ne of them. It's what you from Curty Sark, 

t first leg in this year’s Cutty Sark Tall a daring blend of Its balanced together 
Ships’ Races, with more than 100 ships participating. into one incomparably smooth scotch. 


CUTTY SARK. THE SPIRIT OF ADVENTURE. 


To enter, send letter by May 30, 1997 to: The Tall Ships Found , Stamford, CT 06913-1496 “BLEND 
Call 1-800-94CUTTY or vis -sakcon/tal-sips/ СОЛ ОК 
eo ch Whiskies 


n the crew. 


MEAT FOR MEN 


The Big Damn Book of Sheer Manliness (General Publishing) is an 
admirable inventory of political incorrectness. In it, the Von 
Hoffman brothers celebrate the virile virtues of tequila, cigars, 
fishing gear, cars, football, guns, card games, John Wayne and 
Toddy Boy's Colon-Cleaner С! 
In Diggin’ In and Piggin’ Out: The Truth About Food and Men 
(Harper Collins), author Rog: 
er Welsch insists that tru- 
ly macho cuisine consists 
of Indian fry bread, 
lutefisk (Norwegian cod 
cured in lye) and bea- 
ver tail. He also reveals 
his predilection for 
cooking pizza and 
hamburgers on the 
manifold of his Chevy 
van. We doubt that 
Welsch will tempt a 
female palate. It's 
a different story for 
the serious chef. 
Steak Lover's Cookbook 
(Workman) by Wil- 
liam Rice is a first- 
rate devotional to 
man’s favorite food. 
It features recipes for wine-bathed sirloin, 
jerk beauty steak and panbroiled ribeye, along with advice 
about selecting cuts and carving. Prepare to impress your car- 
nivorous friends. —DIGBY DIEHL 


MAGNIFICENT 
OBSESSIONS 


You can't spend all your time at the movies, but here are 

some books to read while you're waiting in line. The Marx 

Brothers Encyclopedia, edited by Glenn Mitchell (B.T. Bots- 

ford), is filled with wonderful info, such as the fact that 

Groucho's namesake, Uncle Julius, torched Catskills hotels 

for a living. Shock Value, by John Waters (Thunders Mouth): 

Pink Flamingos’ director writes the definitive discourse on 

bad taste. Rainer Werner Fassbinder, edited by Laurence 

Kardish (Museum of Modern Ari]: A great look at the most 

prominent figure in new German cinemo. Roger Ebert's 

Book of Films (W.W. Nor- 

ton): Thumbs-up to 100 

years of film writing, from 

Agee to Zonuck. Money, 

Women & Guns: Crime 

Movies From “Bonnie and 

Clyde” to the Present, by 

Douglos Brode (Citadel): 

Crime flicks, our screen ob- | 
| 
| 


session, illustroted. Nicho- 
las Ray, by Bernard Eisen- 
schitz (Faber & Faber): 
Compelling biography of | 
the influential director of | 
Rebel Without a Cause ond | 
Johnny Guitar. 

—LEOPOLD FROEHLICH 


A WAND 4d 
Did you go to Bibliopalooza? Maybe you didn't know 
there was one. Last fall, a group of alternative-title book- 
sellers and buyers convened in New Jersey to promote 
books for Generation Xers. So what's on the list? J.G. 
Ballard's underground classic Crash (Farrar, Straus & 
Giroux), about a man obsessed with sex and car acci- 
dents (it's now in a theater near you). If you missed Lol- 
lapalooza online, you can cet the full impact in Online Di- 
aries (Soft Skull), by Sonic Youth's Lee Ranaldo. It's the 
print version of Web diaries from Thurston Moore, Beck, 
Courtney Love and others. PLaveov's Chip Rowe edited 
The Book of Zines (Henry Holt), pulp fiction for the paper- 
back crowd. Then there's Cookin" With Honey (Firebrand), 
by A. Scholder, which features recipes and who knows 
what else from literary lesbians. Other topics to note: 
Allen Ginsberg's poems, punk culture, roller derby, 
smut, Japanese comics and gender politics. You'll find 
no self-help or diet books here. 


MAINSTREAM EROTICA 


Major book publishers have embraced literary sex. Every- 
body's talking about Far Me (Broadway Books), by Linda 
Jaivin. It's a first novel about female sexual appetite, and fruit 
propels the plot: “She brought 
the fig down between her legs. 
She could feel the skin of the fig 
burst. Some of the sticky seeds 
spilled out.” Then there's A Histo- 
ry of the Breast (Knopf), by Mari- 
lyn Yalom, which is exactly what 
it sounds like—boobs in all their 
glory. Historically, politically, 
erotically and commercially, the 
breast is uncovered in Western 
p s imagination. John Heidenry's 
What Wild Ecstasy: The Rise and Fall 
of the Sexual Revolution (Simon & Schuster) begins with the fe- 
male orgasm—a high point in sex research then chronicles 
the historic fall. Catherine Hiller's Skin (Carrol & Graf) deliv- 
ers stimulating bedtime reading in 13 
erotic short stories. John Updike, 
Ethan Canin, T.C. Boyle and Mar- 
garet Atwood find adultery an inspi- 
ration in High Infidelity (Morrow). 
You can read about it and do it, just 
not at the same time.—DIGBY DIEHL 


FOREPLAY: Arnold Palmer said, 
"Golf is like a love affair. If you don't 
toke it seriously, it's not fun. If you 
do, it breaks your heart.” For more 
heartbreak—or less—get Golfers 
оп Golf (General Publishing), by 
Downs MacRury. Golf in the Com- 

le Strips, by Howard Ziehm 
{General Publishing), is a histo- 

ry of comic-book duffers that 
includes Dagwood, Archie and 
Moon Mullins. In X-Factor Swing (Harp- 

er Collins), Jim McLean puts his computer to work on 
power ond distance to give golfers an edge. In Super Golf (Harper 
Collins), Rick Grayson and John Andrisani persuode Snead, Nick- 


laus, Lopez and Palmer to give up their secrets. HELEN FRANGOULIS 37 


HEALTH & FITNESS 


OPEN WIDE AND LET'S SEE YOUR MOUSE 


No one expects computers to replace doctors any time soon, 
but they are a terrific source of medical information. Our two 
favorite sites: Medscape (www.medscape.com), the Web's 
largest collection of peer-re- 
viewed clinical articles on 


surgery and orthopedics. It 
uses CAT scans, X rays, pho- 
tos and charts to clarify article 
content. Or visit Thrive 
(pathfinder.com/thrive or on 
AOL, keyword THRIVE), a 
vast, lively site broken down 
into health, shape, eats and 
sex. There's lots of two-way 
communication—try the 
"Empress of Abs," Karen 
Voight, or sexpert Delilah. 
“Thrive provides an entirely 
original and compelling ex- 
= perience for consumers,” says 
its chief executive, Teymour Boutros-Ghali. He's the nephew 
of the former UN Secretary General. As they say in cyber- 
space, small world. 


OK, WHICH ONE'S THE LADY? 


Balding? Blame the fair sex. It seems this most masculine trait 
may be triggered by the presence of a female hormone. Sd- 
enusts unwittingly discovered this when they applied a pesti- 
cide containing an estrogen blocker or estrogen to the shaved 
backs of mice. The critters given estrogen blocker regained a 
full coat in four weeks, while 
those given estrogen re- 
mained hairless 50 percent 
longer. Before this study, 
researchers believed that 
baldness was caused by the 
absence of the male hormone 
androgen. Scientists at North 
Carolina State University, 
who published the study in 
Proceedings of the National 
Academy of Sciences, say they 
hope estrogen blockers will 
eventually be used to treat a 
range of conditions, includ 
ing male pattern balding. 
Unfortunately for the likes of 
macho men Liddy, Carville, 
Collins and Reiner, commercial use is several years away. 


Collins iner 


Dome of the Rock or crock? 


RX ROULETTE 


Here's something else to worry about. You go to your doctor 
for lingering bronchitis and she writes you a prescription. 
When you get home you find that the pharmacist filled it with 
a different medication. Welcome to the world of "pharmaceu- 
tical payola," in which prescribed drugs are switched because 
one medication is favored by insurance—and the other isn't. 
This dangerous practice was recently exposed in “Compro- 
mising Your Drug of Choice," a report by Mark Green, New 
York City's public advocate. The culprits are organizations 
called pharmaceutical benefit managers, which earn millions 


38 by pressuring pharmacists and doctors into pushing pills from 


DR. PLAYBOY 


Q: I've read that I need six hours of rest a night. Other 
sources say it's eight hours or more. How much sleep do 
I really need? 

A: We all gripe about sleep—too little, 

too restless. The truth is, we're all 

sleeping less—about one and a half 

hours less than people did at the turn of 

the century. Blame the lightbulb. What's 

optimum depends on what your body re- 

quires. The statistical average is 7% hours, but 

six to eight hours is a good range. If you suf- 

fer from insomnia, prescription or over-the- 

counter sleeping aids offer only temporary re- 

lief. Food supplements (so called because they 

haven't been approved by the FDA) such as 
melatonin or tryptophan have not been rigor- 

ously tested. Recently, scientists at Harvard dis- 
covered a master “brain switch” in lab rats that 
releases a protein called Fos when they wake 

and suppresses it when they sleep. The same 
mechanism could apply to humans. Because Fos 

also gets the brain in the mood for sleep, medica- 

tions in the future will likely feature that protein. 
In the meantime, if you feel healthy and alert, you're 
probably getting enough sleep. For help with insomnia 
or daytime sleepiness, contact your doctor. 


a list of favored products. Three of the largest PBMs are 
owned by drug manufacturers. Drug substitutions can be 
risky and are strongly disapproved of by the American Med- 
ical Association and the American College of Cardiology. Note 
that this is not the same as a generic substitution—thi 
placement of one drug by another that is chemically 
but is supposed to have similar therapeutic effects. 


TOO MUCH EXERCISE? 


Heads up, gym rats. All that exercise may be wearing you 
down, not buffing you up. Fitness experts warn that strenu- 
ous, repetitive exercise—as in hours on a stair climber or 
treadmill or working out with weights—could be hazardous to 
your health. “Repetitive exercise puts a lot of 
pressure on the same bones and joints, 
which can lead to injury,” says Joseph Pis- 
catella, president of the Institute for 
Fitness and Health Inc. For a bet- 
ter routine, stagger weight 
training with aerobic 
exercise. If burning fat 
is your goal, new re- 
search suggests using 
a broader range of 
muscles. Some ex- 
perts are counseling 
men to climb off the 
machines entirely 
and get back into or- 
ganized sports. So 
what to do with that 
treadmill in the basement? 
For ideas, read the hilarious new book from Arnold Roth 
called No Pain, No Strain, subtitled Further Uses for Exercise 
Equipment. The object above right was once a lat pull. 

WHERE L HOW TO BUY ON PAGE 170. 


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40 


MEN 


could hear strange noises in my con- 

do, so I got up and crept toward the 
kitchen. I won't say I was ready to kill, 
but I was ready to maim. Then I saw 
him, his overcoat on, slumped over the 
kitchen sink like a drunk, shoveling ce- 
real and milk into his face. “John Travol- 
ta?" I asked. 

"Nope," he said without missing a 
scoop of his cereal. “You got any more 
sugar around here?" 

“You're not John Travolta?" 

"You saw the movie, huh?" he asked. 

“Michael? Yeah, І saw it," I said. "You 
starred in it." 

“That movie was about me, but I 
didn't play the part," he said. 

"So even though you look like him, 
you're not John Travolta?” 

“Nope,” he said. "I'm a real angel, not 
some goofy actor." He straightened up 
and drained the last of the milk from the 
bowl. "Michael was a pretty good film, 
wasn't it?" he asked. 

“I thought it was a sappy chick flick,” 
I said. 

“You are too sophisticated for ro- 
mance? Big mistake, Ace—if you want 
women to like you, that is.” 

“Most girl movies suck, man,” I said. 
“But that’s not what is bothering me 
right now.” 

“What's your problem?" he asked. 

“Who are you and why are you eating 
all of my Frosted Flakes?” 

He laughed. “I’m Michael, an arch- 
angel,” he said, shaking my hand. “Sorry 
to surprise you like this, but I'm on a 
mission to teach you something about 
what women want. You've been writing 
that stupid Men column for more than 
15 years now and you still don't seem to 
have a clue.” 

“Women are always changing," I said. 
"First they want one thing, then another. 
I can't keep track of it all." 

Michael smiled at my lament. "Women 
want angels, Ace," he said. "They want 
a man to be every good thing imagin- 
able—and then they want him to be 
more than that!" 

“Oh great,” I said. "So I have to die 
and come back as an angel before 1 can 
get laid?” 

“Either that or learn to fake it, kid,” 
Michael said. 

“Fake being an angel? How?" 

“You saw the movie. What made me so 
attractive to women?” 

“I thought you were a slob,” I said. 


By ASA BABER 


TALKING WITH 
AN ANGEL 


“Hey, I was a safe slob, get it? Late ce- 
real and let it dribble down my chin. I 
walked around in my underwear and 
scratched my balls and smoked too much 
and drank a lot of beer.” 

“1 can do all of that,” I said. 

“But that's not enough,” Michael said. 
“See, women are coming back to a place 
where they want their men to be men, 
sort of. They don’t want wimpy wonks 
anymore, so semi-sloppy is OK. But did 
you notice that my room was always 
neat? Did you see that I was a good boy 
and picked up after myself?” 

“OK, a little sloppy. I got it.” 

“And you can be a fighter again. Re- 
member that I’ve had 6360 battles, but 
only against evil things. Women like 
some toughness in a man as long as they 
can still control him." 

“So I can get in a few fights as long as 
they are female-approved?" 

"Exactly. Now remember that scene at 
Joe's Bar where all the women in the 
place danced with me? Those women 
were like bees coming home to the hive, 
weren't they? Did you ever figure out 
why they buzzed around me like that?" 

“They liked the way you smelled.” 

“And what did I smell like?” 

“I don't remember,” I said. 

“Watch this.” Michael opened my re- 
frigerator door and took out a tube of 
cookie dough. “This stuff is magic. You 


are looking at my greatest secret. Rub 
this cookie dough all over yourself be- 
fore you go out on a date. It will remind 
her of home and childhood and do- 
mestic things. She'll smell it and jump 
your bones, I promise. OK, now this 
next part is tricky,” Michael said. 

“Your wings, right?" I asked. 

“My wings are no big deal,” he said. 
He took off his coat. “These are the real 
thing, but any costume shop can glue 
some fake wings on you.” 

“So what's the tricky part?” 

“Remember Sparky, the dog?” 

“I have to buy a dog?" 

“More than that,” he said. "You have 


Í to buy a small, smart, cute and non- 


threatening dog. And you have to rescue 


í this dog from an almost certain death, 


just as I did in the movie." 

"No can do," I said. 

"But women really love us when we 
bring small animals back to life." 

“But that's an impossible job for a lim- 
ited human male,” 1 griped. 

"Impossible? Of course it's impossible 
by definition. We're talking about wom- 
en's needs here," Michael said. "But try 
this anyway: You buy a dog and train 
him to play dead. Then you take him out 
on the street and teach him how to run 
between the cars. When you get it down, 
bring your girlfriend over to watch. You 
whistle for your dog, he jumps off the 
curb and runs toward you with his cute 
little pink tongue hanging out, he just 
misses a garbage truck, she screams, he 
flops at your feet as if he'd been pan- 
caked, you pick him up and look toward 
the sky, milk it a little, and then, at your. 
signal, your dog comes back to life. You 
give him a Milk-Bone and rub more 
cookie dough into your scalp. You're 
made in the shade." 

Suddenly, Michael started to molt. 
The kitchen floor was covered with 
feathers. “Uh-oh,” he said, "I gotta go. 
Good luck with the chicks, Ace." 

“Don't go, Michael," I cried. But he 
disappeared in a flash, leaving me here 
to fend for myself in a world I do not 
understand. 

1 can tell you that since Michael's visit, 
I have learned that cookie dough can be 
great for dandruff, jock itch and the 
heartbreak of psoriasis. And all dogs 
go to heaven—or so I certainly hope 


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41 


WOMEN 


"т online the other day and my 

friend in Florida tells me this heart- 
warming story about how she went to a 
restaurant to apply for a hostess job. 
About two dozen women were ahead of 
her, all of them simpering. The manager 
interviewing them seemed to be enjoy- 
ing his power just a little too much: His 
face glistened with condescension. The 
applicants responded with various pla- 
caung platitudes and submissive pos- 
tures, but when the manager finally got 
to my pal she said, “I'll be the best work- 
er you ever had but don't even try to fuck 
with me.” 

The manager hired her right there on 
the spot. 

“Men do love a bitch,” she said. 

I thought, Do they? The hard drive of 
my brain started clicking. Documents re- 
arranged themselves as new directories 
and subdirectories formed. I remem- 
bered specific times when I had been in 
my work mode trying to get a story 
done, and if any man got in my way I 
bulldozed right over him. After which 
the guy started wagging his tail and ask- 
ing for my phone number. I hardly no- 
ticed or cared, because when I'm in 
work mode I am implacable. In work 
mode I am a bitch. 

Whereas in dating mode J have been 
perhaps a bit soft. Somewhat timid, OK! 
Yes, when dating I have been a craven, 
yellow-bellied, spineless pantywaist. Boy, 
have boys walked all over me. 

When I was interested in someone, 
fear would settle over me like a cloak. A 
guy would call, casually invite me over. 
Did I say, “Sorry, I'm busy, give me a lit- 
tle more notice next time?” Hah! 

“II be right there,” I would say, and 
T'd rush madly into and out of the show- 
er, slather on makeup, throw on clothes, 
spray a cloud of perfume and walk 
through it and sprint out the door: Then 
I'd run back in the door and into the 
bathroom and have fear diarrhea, which 
I'm sure nobody has but me. 

Once a man actually said, "You know 
what? You're too пісе. It's no fun. Have a 
little backbone, why don't you?" I cow- 
ered in shame and apologized. 

So I wasn't madly successful with men. 
Until recently. 

A couple of years ago a man I was 
crazy about did one of those special male 
things of which I had become so fond. 
Tl spare you the play-by-play. Suffice to 


42 say that after a few months of mild fool- 


By CYNTHIA HEIMEL 


BITCH! 
BITCH! BITCH! 


ing around and major chatfests, I got the 
phone call: "I really like you, but Pm just 
seeing too many other women.” 

Well. Floods of tears. The ritualistic 
calling of all friends and recounting 
every moment of the phone call. Emer- 
gency shrink session. Hiding under the 
bed and muttering. 

And then I crossed a crucial line. After 
1 million years of dating, I had finally 
had enough. A small, stubborn voice 
buried within the very essence of my 
soul said, “Fuck this. I am fucking not 
taking any more fucking shit." 

And reader, just like that, I became a 
bitch. A holy terror on dates. And, holy 
shit, the men began to flock. 1 had 
thought it was because I had given up. 
and didn't care. But now my brain spat 
out the obvious answer: Men go for 
bitches—women who spare no feelings, 
who assume no submissive postures, 
who will be aggressive and will suffer 
no fools. 

But why? When I want to clarify my 
thoughts, I go to the Well. 

“Reminds us of mom," wrote Joe Atti- 
tude (mz). 

"Because they make us write their 
columns for them," wrote Clam Spam 
(kls). 

The Well is an online bulletin board 
that is full of smart-asses. It's like a small 
town where we all know one another's 


business, where we can advise, ease, 
meddle and gossip. 

“Reminds us of someone with the guts 
to take mom on. Such women are a lot 
easier to deal with,” wrote Quoting for 
Trolls (josh). “They'll tell us just where 
we stand (no mind reading necessary). 
We don't have to walk on eggshells lest 
some Tule we might not know about gets 
violated. The Bitch is as likely to be the 
protector as we are. The Bitch is also as 
likely to be a provider as we are; one 
rarely fears that the Bitch cannot make it 
on her own." 

“So are we saying it's about—dare I 
say it—boundaries?" I wrote back. "If 
someone is too sweetie nice, does this 
mean you'll be the center of her uni- 
verse, which is not madly attractive?" 

“You're on to something there,” wrote 
Ron Hogan (grifter). “I have enough 
problems living my own life that I don't 
much relish somebody else living hers 
through me." 

“I like the notion that I won't have to 
handle or be in charge of everything," 
wrote the Impulse Is Wimming (jrc). 
"Because then if I fuck up it's OK, I've 
got some kind of backup. Also, if I wan- 
na whine or moan there won't be some 
delicate flower dissolving into tears. 
Plus, I love the lace-up boots." 

“There are times I've been an idiot,” 
wrote Mangy Dog of a Stock Offering 
(ivanski), “and I know so. If she calls me 
on it, Tm more comfortable owning up 
to stupidity than pretending I'm fucking 
perfect.” 

Well, that's a relief. I'm not fucking 
perfect either. 

One of the many boyfriends I ac- 
quired after achieving bitchitude threat- 
ened suicide when I tried to break up 
with him. He didn’t mean it, trust me, 
I'm not that good of a bitch. But what a 
creepy, off-putting ploy. Nobody wants 
to feel he or she has so much power in a 
relati ip that he or she can destroy 
the insignificant other. 

"This boyfriend's needy antics put me 
into the place of all those boys for whom 
I wasted all those years trying to im- 
persorate a doormat. I felt smothered, 
trapped. I wanted to sprint in the oppo- 
site direction. But, who knows, maybe 
that’s just me. 

“It's not just you,” wrote Wendy 


(wendyg). 


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THE PLAYBOY 


ADVISOR 


A fter two years of marriage, my wife 
now refuses to give me blow jobs. She 
says it aggravates her TMJ. I knew she 
had occasional pain and discomfort, but 
this is the first time she has mentioned it 
in relation to sex. Is this for real?—A.L., 
Chicago, Illinois 

When a woman performs fellatio, she may 
open her jaw wider than usual and for an 
extended period of time, That can aggravate 
temporomandibular joint syndrome, which is 
damage to the sliding joints that join the 
lower jaw to the skull (TMJ syndrome affects 
four times as many women as men, aud most. 
often women in their 30s and 40s). The 
detrimental effect of temporomandibular dis- 
orders on a couple's sex life has not been giv- 
en much space in medical literature, but 
jau-locking and pain are common concerns. 
Dentist John Taddey, author of the book 
“TMJ: The Self-Help Program" (800-833- 
8865), points out that in extreme cases, a 
hug, a kiss or even being jostled in bed may 
cause pain. A woman's feelings about fellatio 
also can play a role. One specialist recalls a 
patient who disliked giving blow jobs so 
much she clenched her teeth before sex. That 
aggravated her TM] syndrome at least as 
much as the fellatio. But the consultation 
gave her an out on "doctor's orders" (we as- 
sume her partner soon began suffering from 
stress-related disorders of his own). If your 
wife doesn't have such misgivings, physical 
therapy and jaw exercises can ease her pain 
in and out of the bedroom. In the meantime, 
let her know that it's not necessary for her to 
imitate a suction pump when she gives you a 
blow job—instead, she can use her tongue, 
hands and lips to tease you into oblivion. For 
women who find that fellatio occasionally 
leaves their jaws sore, lake a minute lo 
stretch beforehand. If your partner asks what 
the hell you're doing, tell him, “You're so big, 
Em afraid I might pull something.” He 
won't say another word. 


Recently I got home early from work 
and found our new maid on the couch 
masturbating. When 1 asked her to ex- 
plain herself, she walked over, unzipped 
my pants and gave me a blow job. The 
next week I faked being sick for three 
days and went home early on the other 
two to have sex with the maid. I would 
fuck her in the afternoon and then fuck 
my wife at night. But two days ago, out 
of the blue, my wife fired her. I asked 
why, but she didn't give me a straight an- 
swer. Does she know? I love my wife but 
miss the maid.—R.B., Phoenix, Arizona 

Of course she kuows. Didn't you notice the 
house was a mess? 


Responding to the letter from the cou- 
ple who shaved their genital arcas to liv- 
en up their sex life: І recommend wax- 
ing instead of shaving. Waxing is 


necessary every three to six weeks, de- 
pending on hair growth. I'm an aestheti- 
cian, and many of my customers, men 
and women, come in monthly for a wax. 


Just make sure the hair isn't too long. 
Ouch!—E B., Venice, California 

That's an option, though the prospect ef 
someone pouring hot wax near our genitals 
sounds... well, actually, it sounds great. 
the part where the pubes are ripped out en 
masse that gives us the chills. Shaving will 
always have its appeal, especially when a 
partner is involved. First, it's much easier to 
do at home. Second, it can build trust in a 
relationship. Third, you need to shave often, 
and that tends to рш your partner's face 
near your fun parts on a regular basis 


How ofien should you brush a pool 
table if it gets at least six hours of use a 
day?—A.K., Nanaimo, British Columbia 

Brush the playing surface every two 
hours, and vacuum and wipe it with a 
damp cloth daily. Be careful to remove chalk 
marks, especially on the cushions, as they in- 
crease friction if they accumulate. It’s also 
wise to cover the table when it’s not in use. If 
you're serious aboul your game, sharpshoot- 
er Robert Byme suggests occasionally shav- 
ing the bed of the table and the nose of the 
cushions with an electric razor. Not that 
great for the razor, but wonderful for your 
angles. 


Thanks for the list of erotic films in the 
March issue. They improved what was 
becoming rather pedestrian sex. Howev- 
er, my husband seemed to enjoy more of 
the scenes than I did. Are there any films 
that would appeal equally to men and 
women?—R.T., Phoenix, Arizona 

Steve and Elizabeth Brent wondered the 


ILLUSTRATION EY ISTVAN BANYAI 


same thing, and after repeated trips to the 
corner video store, they compiled a book, 
“The Couple’s Guide to the Best Erotic 
Videos.” Their criteria for a good porn flic 
“The people are beautiful, the sex is athletic 
and interesting, and no one looks as if they 
are on drugs or being coerced." You might 
also consult “The Wise Woman's Guide to. 
Erotic Videos," by Angela Cohen and Sarah 
Gardner Fox, who rate each adull selection 
for explicitness and sensuality, We particu- 
larly liked the authors’ reasons to watch erot- 
ica: Your fantasy life will improve. Your li- 
bido will get a jump start. You won't catch 
anything. You'll have a few laughs. 


W appreciate your suggestions for worth- 
while X-rated films, but 1 dumped my 
VCR years ago. Does anyone manufac- 
ture X-rated films on laser disc?—C.G., 
Austin, Texas 

Yes, but the selection is limited to a few 
hundred of the better-made titles. The major 
manufacturer, Laser Disc Entertainment, 
works with a dozen labels to release five titles 
a month, including a quarterly special edi- 
tion. Like their mainstream counterparts, 
these collector's versions include additional 
footage and commentary from the directors 
and writers (“Here's where we tried to 
demonstrate Brandi's emotional fortitude”). 
In the works: a collection of erotic Japanese 
animation and an even more uncut version 
of “John Wayne Bobbitt Uncut.” Will Lore- 
na get an audio track? If you're looking for 
quality, Doug Pratt of the “Laser Disc 
Newsletter” suggests the special editions of 
“Latex” and “The Passion.” He also recom- 
mends the soft-core “Sex and Zen,” which 
“does for erotic films what kung fu did for 
Sight films. ” In other words, don't blink 
or you're fucked. For a sample copy of “Laser 
Disc Newsletter,” phone 800-551-4914. For 
a large selection of adult films on laser disc, 
contact Ken Crane's Laser Disc at 800-624- 
3078 or point your Web browser to илали ken 
cranes.com. 


The Advisor recently wrote about the 
impending availability of a male birth 
control pill. But I've heard that a male 
pill is already being used in Brazil. 
What's the story2—K.A., Milwaukee, 
Wisconsin 

The active ingredient in the Brazilian 
pill, marketed under the name Nofertil, is a 
derivative of cottonseed oil called gossypol. 
As we have reported, gossypol looked promis- 
ing until researchers discovered it shrinks 
testicles over time. In addition, studies in 
China involving some 80,000 men with a 
similar pill found that ten percent to 15 per- 
cent suffered from sterility. Oops. The physi- 
cian who hopes to make his fortune with 
Nofertil justifies that risk by noting that 
"even water is toxic if you drink enough 
of the stuff” We'll stick with condoms for 


45 


now. Researchers al the World Health Orga- 
nization are betting on a hormone injection 
that would be offered to men as a skin patch. 
Keep your vasa deferentia crossed. 


After 1 moved to South Carolina from 
California, my best friend and I began 
exchanging letters, making it a contest to 
outdo each other with the envelopes. For 
example, I addressed one letter to The 
Small Penis Society of America in care of 
my friend. Our contest escalated to in- 
clude small drawings (penises, vaginas, 
breasts, sex acts). Recently I mailed a pe- 
nis-shaped envelope made of pink con- 
struction paper. My friend replicd with a 
vagina-shaped envelope, but it was re- 
turned to him marked IMPROPER POSTAL 
PROCEDURES. I've seen postcards of top- 
less women that can be mailed. What are 
the limits on what can be sen? —R.G., 
Columbia, South Carolina 

Anthony Comstock lives! Mail artists have 
been testing the limits of the Postal Service 
for decades, but it’s still hard to know what 
you can gel away with. It depends on how 
many postal workers your envelope manages 
to offend—or arouse (in which case, don't 
expect it back). A federal law makes it illegal 
to mail anything with “obscene, lewd, lasctv- 
ious, indecent, filthy or vile” markings or 
language on the wrapping. What does that 
include? Who knows. The word fuck is often 
enough to stop your envelope dead in its 
tracks, and with all the mail-bomb scares 
lately the Postal Service takes a less whimsi- 
cal view of oddly shaped packages. For more 
on testing the limits, check out “Mail Art 
Postal Hassle Stories” ($3 cash from PO. 
Box 11794, Berkeley, CA 94712) or point 
your Web browser to www.p22.com/pro 
Jects/mail.html. As for nudie postcards, they 
have become common enough that postal 
sorters don't give them a second glance. If 
you want to shock the system, mail a handful 
of Annie Sprinkle's “postporn postcards” in- 
stead (800-213-8170). One of our favorites 
depicts a woman's breasts on one side and 
а man's chest on the other. You fill in each 
side with a different address and see where 
it ends up. 


PLAYBOY 


ll boughta pair of speakers that sounded 
great in the store, but when I got them 
home, they didn't sound as rich. This 
may have to do with the layout of my 
room and its acoustics, but my old speak- 
ers sounded fine. Can you explain it— 
B.B., New York, New York 

When you buy speakers, they're displayed 
on “speaker walls” or in rooms full of equip- 
ment. When you test them, the other speakers 
vibrate as well, making your pair sound. 
richer. Before you buy, ask to hear the mer- 
chandise in a private listening room. More 
important, insist on a liberal return policy. 


А while back someone asked the Advi- 
sor about a sexual position called the 
three-eyed turtle. You said it involves the 
46 uncircumcised head of a penis being 


placed against a woman's clitoris. The 
couple then views the combination in a 
mirror, hence the third eye. But I read a 
different definition on a Web page put 
up by a morning radio show. At least I 
think I did. They disguised it by listing 
the words in alphabetical order: “a back 
between flat giving he her her her her 
him his his hooters is is is job johnson 
knees man on on on oral performs rest- 
ing rim sex she straddles the the while 
while woman.” Can you help clear this 
up?—D.S., Harrisburg, Pennsylvania 

You rely on morning radio jocks for infor- 
mation about sex? How often do they get 
laid? Their description decodes as "The 
woman is flat on her back while the man 
straddles her, resting on his knees. She is giv- 
ing him a rim job. His johnson is between 
her hooters while he performs oral sex on 
her.” The position they describe might resem- 
ble a turtle, but it's better known as the 68. 
That’s 69 minus one plus zero. 


М, friends and I are ready to intro- 
duce a shooter to the world, the toad. It's 
equal parts tequila, ouzo, amaretto and 
Drambuie. The tequila and ouzo give 
an initial kick, while the amaretto and 
Drambuie provide a smooth, sweet after- 
taste with a hint of almond. Give it a 
tryl—]-L, Ottawa, Ontario 

That's а new one. If you're online, share 
your invention at wwu,thevirtualbar.com. 
The site enables you to inventory the liquors 
you have on hand, then it reels off drink 
recipes to mix on the fly. The Caltech Cock- 
tail is on every list. It doesn’t sound like a 
bad chaser for a toad. 


Д buddy asked me to go to a strip club 
to celebrate a friend's birthday. My girl- 
friend found outand went nuts, so I told 
her 1 wasn’t going to go. But now she 
says I have to go because if I don't, I'll 
resent her. 1 can't win. What should I 
do?—A.C., Peoria, Illinois 

You're right, you can't win. Your girl- 
friend is insecure, and pretending your li- 
bido shuts off except when she's in the room 
won't help her self-esteem. Her anger might 
be justified if visiting strip clubs were a 
habit, or if you had a history of dating strip- 
pers. Since it’s nothing more than a crazy 
night out with the guys, keep your hands to 
yourself and have a good time. 


Soon after we started dating, my girl- 
friend told me she had orgasms only 
from oral sex or vibrators. The other day 
we were having intercourse and she 
yelled, “Don’t stop! Something different 
is happening.” She groaned, arched her 
back and had a tremendous orgasm. She 
said it felt like it originated inside her 
and was different from any other orgasm 
she'd had. We concluded we had located 
her G spot. Our sex life immediately 
improved. Some time later 1 wondered 
what would happen if I chased both or- 
gasms at once. I used my tongue to play 


with her clitoris while hooking my finger 

to her vagina and gently moving it 
against the upper wall. It drove her wild, 
and after she came, she said both spots 
went off at once. We have dubbed this a 
“stereo” orgasm. Is this possible?—D.R., 
Boise, Idaho 

Sure sounds like it. This debate dates back 
to Sigmund Freud (at least), who gave a lot 
of thought to female orgasms—no doubt 
while smoking a cigar. He believed that a 
woman has distinct orgasms depending on 
where she is stimulated. Trouble is, he also 
believed that clitoral orgasms indicale the 
woman needs to see a shrink, since she is ob- 
viously masturbating or using sex toys and 
has not yet achieved full femininity. Accord- 
ing to Freud, vaginal orgasms are more 
“mature” and “authentic.” In this case, of 
course, the good doctor was full of it. Later, 
after scientists had taken a closer look, some 
argued that stimulation of the elusive Graf- 
enberg spot produces a distinct orgasm, in 
that the vaginal tissue doesn't swell and the 
ulerus is pushed down instead of elevating. 
Masters and Johnson countered with the po- 
sition that an orgasm is an orgasm is an or- 
gasm. At the same lime, however, they ob- 
served that many women who prefer coital 
orgasms say that the sex is more satisfying 
but the finish less intense. Joani Blank, au- 
thor of the “Good Vibrations Guide to Vibra- 
tors,” points out that there's only one way to 
learn more about the female orgasm, and 
that’s to experiment. Some sex toys come with 
curved attachments to stimulate the G spot.— 
rather than playing Twister with your part- 
ner's genitals, a vibrator can help you get or- 
ganized. Mankind awaits your report. 


F is my understanding that the 21st 
century begins on January 1, 2001. 
However, many people say that the cen- 
tury ends on December 31, 1999. So 
when should I hold my new-century 
bash?—N.R., San Clemente, California 

The 20th century officially ends on De- 
cember 31, 2000, but who wants to be the 
last man at that party? Plan a bash for both 
dates; invite your rowdy, carefree friends to 
the first and your subdued, introspective 
(friends to the second. 


All reasonable questions—from fashion, food 
and. drink, stereo and sports cars to dat- 
ing problems, taste and ctiquette—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, Illinois 
60611. Look for responses to our most fre- 
quently asked questions on the World Wide 
Web at http://www.playboy.com/fag, or check 
out the Advisor's latest book, “365 Ways to 
Improve Your Sex Life” (Plume), available 
in bookstores or by phoning 800-423-9494. 


NOIR 


EAU DE TOILETTE 
Guy Laroche AVAILABLE AT 
m FINE 


DEPARTMENT 
STORES. 


What happens to your 
SELF-CONFIDENCE at : 


THE PLAYBOY FORUM 


SMOKE SCREEN 


the nation's drug czar is spending a 
million dollars to research the medical uses of 
marijuana. here's what he'll find 


By Lester Grinspoon and James Bakalar 


In November 1996 the people of 
California approved Proposition 215, 
an initiative that could make marijua- 
na legally available as a medicine in 
the U.S. for the first time in 60 years. 
Under the initiative, the government 
will not prosecute patients or their 
caregivers who possess or 
cultivate marijuana 
for medical treat- 
ment. The medical 
recommen- 
dation may 
be either 
written or 


doctors cannot be penalized by the 
state for making it. A similar but more 
restrictive initiative was passed in the 
state of Arizona at the same time. 

The California initiative drew a 
strong and mostly sympathetic reac- 
tion from the press and public. But 
this isn't surprising, because for sev- 
eral years public-opinion surveys 
have indicated that the ban on med- 
ical marijuana was unpopular. Ac- 
cording to a 1995 poll conducted by 
the American Civil Liberties Union, 
85 percent of Americans believe that 
marijuana should be available as a 
medicine. 

The federal government and its 
drug agencies responded predictably, 
at first to the California and Arizona 
lawsand subsequently to the prospect 
of similar actions in other states. Gen- 
eral Barry McCaffrey, head of the OF 
fice of National Drug Control Poli- 
cy, tried to coordinate a campaign 
against the California initiative, call- 
ing it “Cheech and Chong medicine,” 
a hoax that was being perpetrated on 
the people of California. After the law 


Washington threatened to withdraw 
the federal licenses to prescribe con- 
trolled substances from doctors who 
recommended marijuana and even 
hinted at criminal prosecution. 

Since then federal officials have 
backed off. Maybe they were sur- 
prised by the support for medical 
marijuana and its basis in informed 
opinion. Thousands of patients, with 
the backing of hundreds of doctors, 
currently use marijuana medically for 
a variety of purposes. 

Prop 215 was supported by several 
medical societies. In February of this 
year, Dr. Jerome Kassirer, editor of 
The New England Journal of Medicine, 
endorsed the medicinal use of mari- 
juana in an editorial. 

McCaffrey, meanwhile, agreed to 
appropriate $1 million for the Insti- 
tute of Medicine (a branch of the Na- 
tional Academy of Sciences) to study 
marijuana's medical uses. The study 
will consider marijuana's short- and 
long-term effects on health and be- 
havior and how it works in the body. 
It vill also look at scientific literature 
on its therapeutic uses and how the 
benefits of marijuana treatments com- 
pare with other drugs. 

The IOM has 18 months to pre- 
pare its report. We can anticipate 
much of what a dispassionate and ob- 
jective committee will tell the general 
and the rest of the nation. So much 
research has been conducted on mar- 
ijuana, often in unsuccessful efforts to 

show its serious health hazards 
and addictive potential, that we 
know more about it than we do 


— about most prescription drugs. 


When the committee examines how 
marijuana affects health and hu- 
man behavior, it will almost certain- 
ly come to the same conclusion 
reached in 1982 by a previous IOM 
committee: There is no great reason 
for concern. The list of government 


48 


commissions that have studied this 
question includes the Indian Hemp 
Drugs Commission (reporting in 1894 
to the British viceroy of India), the 
Commission on the Marijuana Prob- 
lem in the City of New York (reporting 
to Mayor Fiorello La Guardia in 1944), 
the National Commission on Marijua- 
na and Drug Abuse (reporting to Pres- 
ident Nixon in 1973) and the Le Dain 
Commission (reporting to the govern- 
ment of Canada in 1973). 

These studies show that marijuana is 
remarkably safe. In 5000 years of med- 
ical and nonmedical use, it has not 
caused a single overdose death. A med- 
icine's potential to cause death is often 
measured by a number called the ther- 
apeutic ratio. This is calculated by di- 
viding the amount ofa drug that would 
kill half of the people using it by the 
amount needed for a therapeutic ef- 
fect. The higher the ratio, the safer the 
drug. For example, it would take from 
three to 50 times the therapeutic dose 
of the barbiturate secobar- 
bital (Seconal) to kill half 
the people using it. Because 
no one has ever died from 
taking marijuana, the thera- 
peutic ratio could be said to 
be infinite. 

The IOM committee will 
also undoubtedly find that 
the other alleged risks of 
marijuana—psychotic reac- 
tions, dependence and ad- 
diction, so-called amotiva- 
tional syndrome and effects 
on the immune system, sex 
hormones and the repro- 
ductive system—are either 
nonexistent or greatly exag- 
gerated. Marijuana has few- 
er serious side effects than 
most prescription drugs 
and is far less addictive or subject to 
abuse than many drugs now used as 
muscle relaxants, sedatives and pain- 
killers. In 1988 the Drug Enforcement 
Administration was obliged to consider 
a petition to make marijuana available 
as a prescription drug. The DEAs own 
administrative law judge, after hearing 
dozens of witnesses and reading thou- 
sands of pages of testimony during two 
years of hearings, declared marijuana 
to be "one of the safest therapeutically 
active substances known to man." 

"The only serious concern is the effect 
of smoking. Marijuana smoke, like to- 
bacco smoke, carries irritating and pos- 
sibly cancer-causing partides into the 
lungs. But there are important differ- 
ences. First, even people who use mar- 


ijuana for pleasure are rarely exposed 
to as much smoke as tobacco users. 
Medical users of marijuana will gener- 
ally require smaller doses than recre- 
ational users take. Second, marijuana 
users usually take only as much as they 
need to achieve the desired effect, 
which they can precisely judge. That 
means medical marijuana can be made 
safer if its potency is increased, reduc- 
ing the amount of contaminants in a 
given dose. Finally, technical innova- 
tions could allow the active ingredients 
in marijuana, the cannabinoids, to be 
heated and vaporized without burning 
plant material. Once marijuana is 
approved as a medicine and inventive 
people are allowed to develop a practi- 
cal vaporizing apparatus, we will no 
longer have to worry about the dan- 
gers of smoking it. 

The commission won't find much 
about marijuana's therapeutic value in 
recent scientific literature, partly be- 
cause the federal government has dis- 


So much research has 
been conducted on mari- 


juana that we know more 
about it than we do about 
most prescription drugs. 


couraged such research. There are few 
controlled studies of the kind contem- 
porary medicine relies on. But the use 
of marijuana for medical purposes 
dates back to ancient China. Since the 
middle of the 19th century, Western 
physicians have generated many re- 
ports and case histories. Between 1840 
and 1900, European and American 
medical journals published more than 
100 articles on the therapeutic uses of 
marijuana, which was known then as 
Indian hemp. It was mentioned as an 
appe stimulant, muscle relaxant, 
sedative, painkiller and treatment for 
opium addiction and epilepsy. As late 
as 1913, Indian hemp was recom- 
mended by Sir William Osler, one of 
the most highly respected physicians of 


the time, as the best remedy for mi- 
graines. We can assure McCaffrey that 
Dr. Osler never heard of Cheech and 
Chong. We can also assure him that 
many migraine sufferers today agree 
with Osler. 

The evidence for medical uses of 
marijuana is still mostly of the kind 
sometimes disparaged as anecdotal— 
individual reports and case histories. 
But many of the medicines in use today 
were accepted long before the advent 
of controlled studies because of con- 
vincing anecdotal evidence that they 
worked (aspirin, insulin and penicillin 
come to mind). 

The medical use of marijuana de- 
clined in the early part of the 20th cen- 
tury. The old method of application— 
an alcohol solution taken with a 
dropper—was unreliable in its effects. 
Synthetic alternatives, including as- 
pirin, barbiturates and injectable opi- 
ates, were substituted for marijuana in 
some of its most common uses. Also, 
the nation became obsessed 
with the nonmedical use of 
the drug. After a campaign 
by Harry Anslinger, the first 
director of the Federal Bu- 
reau of Narcotics, the fed- 
eral government intro- 
duced the Marijuana Tax 
Act of 1937. That law was 
supposed to prevent recre- 
ational use but also made 
medical use so difficult that 
marijuana was soon re- 
moved from standard phar- 
maceutical references. 

In the past two decades, 
many of the medical uses 
known to 19th century 
physicians have come to 
light again, and new uses 
are imminent. But instead 
of doctors telling patients about mari- 
juana, patients are now telling doctors 
about it. In the ACLU poll, 22 percent 
of the people surveyed said that they 
learned about the medical benefits of 
marijuana from personal experience 
or from friends or family members 
who had used it. People with glaucoma 
learned that marijuana relaxes the 
pressure on the optic nerve that causes 
blindness. Patients undergoing chemo- 
therapy have discovered that a few 
puffs of marijuana halt the nausea and 
vomiting that make some of them want 
to die rather than continue their treat- 
ment. Paraplegics, people with multi- 
ple sclerosis and others suffering from 
spastic disorders find that marijuana 
relieves their muscle spasms. Amputees 


GARTODUSTS 
SKETCHBOOK 


The California initiative ignited a firestorm 
of opinions on the drawbacks and benefits 
of medical marijuana—some surprisingly 
conservative. But Mike Shelton of The 
Orange County Register predicts the most 
likely response to the IOM report. He de- 
picts General McCaffrey besieged by facts, 
telling an underling, ‘Just ignore them.” 


{ \EGALIZING 
“WE MEDICAL USE 
of MARIJUANA | 
\S Op]RAGEOUS: П 


52 


report relicf from phantom-limb pain. 
People with AIDS who smoke marijua- 
na regain their appetites and do not 
experience the AIDS weight-loss syn- 
drome. The list of potential medical us- 
es is extensive. 

Health care professionals are paying 
attention. That is why the California 
Nurses' Association, the California 
Nurses' Alliance, the San Francisco 
Medical Society and the California 
Academy of Family Physicians en- 
dorsed the state initiative. Forty-four 
percent of cancer specialists respond- 
ing to a 1990 survey said they had sug- 
gested marijuana to a patient. Doctors 
and patients are obviously trying to tell 
the government that it is making a big 
mistake. 

McCaffrey's instructions to the IOM 
committee are to compare marijuana 
with other medicines used for the same 
purposes. Here the main value of mar- 
ijuana is its safety. For example, mari- 
juana sometimes relieves the pain and 
stiffness of arthritis. The 
standard treatments are as- 
pirin and other non- 
steroidal anti-inflammatory 
drugs, which can cause seri- 
ous digestive complications 
and lead to several thou- 
sand deaths a year from in- 
ternal bleeding. As men- 
tioned above, some people 
with multiple sclerosis find 
that marijuana eases their 
pain and muscle spasms. 
The standard alternatives 
are large doses of the stupe- 
fying and sometimes addic- 
tive diazepam (Valium), 
along with dantrolene and 
baclofen, two potentially 
toxic drugs that are margin- 
ally useful. We have also 
seen cases (confirming 19th century re- 
ports) in which marijuana serves as a 
benign alternative substance for alco- 
holics and heroin addicts. Of course, it 
will not help every patient with one of 
these disorders, but it is safe enough to 
be worth trying even if only a few peo- 
ple benefit. 

When the IOM makes its compar- 
isons, McCaffrey may also learn that le- 
gal marijuana would be less expensive 
than most conventional medicines. If 
there were no "prohibition tariff," its 
cost would be $20 to $30 an ounce, or 
about 30 cents a cigarette, as compared 
with the present strect price of $200 to 
$500 an ounce. One marijuana ciga- 
rette usually relieves the nausea and 
vomiting of chemotherapy. So does a 


standard dose of ondansetron (Zo- 
fran), the best legal treatment current- 
ly available, at a price of up to $100 for 
every episode of nausea and vomit- 
ing—or $600 or more if the patient is 
too nauseated to swallow a pill and has 
to take the drug intravenously in a hos- 
pital bed. 

A synthetic version of delta-9-tetra- 
hydrocannabinol, the main active 
chemical in marijuana, is legally avail- 
able in capsule form (as dronabinol or 
Marinol) for limited medical purposes. 
Patients and doctors agree that mari- 
juana is usually more effective. A pa- 
tient who is nauseated and vomiting, 
for example, may find it almost impos- 
sible to keep a pill down. THCin a cap- 
sule is absorbed slowly and unreliably, 
and users often find out hours later 
that they have taken too much or too 
little. Smokers can judge correct doses 
better because they get immediate 
feedback. Besides, Marinol can make 
some patients uncomfortable, possibly 


Doctors and patients 
are obviously trying 


to tell the government 
that it is making 
a big mistake. 


because it contains only one of the 
many related cannabinoids in marijua- 
na. Some of these substances may mod- 
ify the effects of THC, which can cause 
anxiety in new users. 

Once the general learns about mari- 
juana's safety, versatility and low cost 
as a medicine, he may demand that it 
pass the multimillion-dollar controlled 
studies that are required by the Food 
and Drug Administration for approval 
of a new drug. The question is, who is 
going to pay for those studies? The cost. 
of developing and testing drugs is ordi- 
narily borne by pharmaceutical compa- 
nies, which invest millions because they 
hope to win a 20-year patent that will 
make them millions more. Marijuana, 
of course, cannot be patented, for it is 


a plant that grows frecly all over the 
world and has been used as a medicine 
for thousands of years. Drug compa- 
nies may even have something to lose if 
marijuana competes with their prod- 
ucts. So the government would have to 
pay for the tests—at least two large 
studies for each of the many potential 
medical uses. It will take a great deal of 
time and money. 

It will also require a change in atti- 
tude. One reason there hasn't been 
much controlled scientific research on 
medical marijuana is because the fed- 
eral government was determined to 
block the way. For example, in 1994 
Donald Abrams, a physician at the Uni- 
versity of California-San Francisco, 
tried to win approval for a study com- 
paring smoked marijuana with Mari- 
nol in the treatment of the AIDS 
weight-loss syndrome. Dr. Abrams 
faced obstacles at every turn as he 
worked his way through state and fed- 
eral bureaucracies. Eventually the 
project was approved by the 
FDA and by several institu- 
tional review boards and 
advisory committees. But 
the National Institute on 
Drug Abuse and the DEA 
would not provide the mar- 
ijuana he needed—the mar- 
ijuana many of his patients 
were undoubtedly finding 
on the street. 

Even if research begins, it 
will take so long that oth- 
er ways must be found to 
accommodate patients who 
cannot wait. The main pur- 
pose of the FDA approval 
process is to protect con- 
sumers from ineffective or 
toxic drugs. We know that 
marijuana is not highly tox- 
ic (partly because of the substantial 
time, money and effort that have been 
expended on attempts to prove the op- 
posite), and the anecdotal evidence of 
its effectiveness is persuasive. More sci- 
entific research would certainly help; 
we need to learn which patients with 
which disorders will benefit most. But. 
meanwhile, patients should not be 
prevented from using—and doctors 
should not be prevented from pre- 
scribing—a relatively harmless drug 
that might be more effective and less 
expensive than conventional medi- 
cines. Even cocaine and morphine are 
available by prescription. As Dr. Kas- 
sirer pointed out in his New England 
Journal of Medicine editorial, it is hypo- 
critical to forbid the prescription of 


marijuana while allowing the use of 
much more dangerous drugs. 

The federal government itself ac- 
knowledged marijuana's medical use- 
fulness more than 20 years ago. In 
1976 growing demand persuaded the 
FDA to institute the Individual Treat- 
ment Investigational New Drug Appli- 
cation, commonly referred to as the 
Compassionate IND, a permit to be 
used by individual doctors whose pa- 
tients needed marijuana. Even with the 
best will on the part of everyone in- 
volved, this arrangement would never 
have worked for large numbers of pa- 
tients. In practice, the complicated ap- 
plication process seemed designed to 
discourage, and many physicians did 
not want to become entangled in the 
paperwork, especially because many 
thought there was a stigma attached to 
prescribing marijuana. 

The government awarded only 
about half a dozen of these permits in 
13 years. Then, in 1989, the FDA was 
deluged with applications involving 
people with AIDS. In June 1991, 
when the number of Compassionate 
INDs had risen to 34, the program was 
suspended, with an announcement by 
the chief of the Public Health Service 
that it gave a “bad signal” by suggesting 
that “this stuff can't be so bad.” The 
program was discontinued in 1992. 
The eight remaining patients whose 
doctors hold pre-1992 permits are the 
only ones in the country for whom 
marijuana is not forbidden. 

When McCaffrey declared that med- 
ical marijuana is a fraud, he was criti- 
cizcd for trying to tell physicians how 
to conduct their business. Although we 
may be risking the same mistake, we 
would like to suggest to him that a 
good general knows when to cut his 
losses and retreat. The administration 
does not have to wait for the IOM's re- 
port. It can frec itsclf now from the 
need to defend the untenable position 
that medical marijuana is a hoax. As 
Senator George Aiken of Vermont sug- 
gested to the president during the 
Vietnam var, the government could 
declare victory and withdraw; in this 
case, by announcing that the medical 
value of marijuana has been estab- 
lished and a workable accommodation 
will be made for patients who need it. 


Lester Grinspoon, M.D. and James Bak- 
alar are members of the faculty of the Har- 
vard Medical School and co-authors of 
"Marihuana, the Forbidden Medicine" (Re- 
vised and expanded edition, Yale University 
Press, 1997). 


To support the legalization of 
medical marijuana, contact the fol- 
lowing organizations: 

Americans for Medical Rights 

1250 Sixth Street #202 

Santa Monica, California 90401 

310-394-2952 

Responsible for the passing of. 
the California initiative. Currently 
building resources for the next 
round of initiatives in 1998. 

Drug Policy Foundation 

4455 Connecticut Avenue NW 

Washington, D.C. 20008-2302 

www.dpforg 

An independent forum publiciz- 
ing alternatives to current drug 
policies. 


NORML 

1001 Connecticut Avenue NW 

Suite 1010 

Washington, D.C. 20036 

202-483-5500 

www.norml.org 

‘The oldest organization still wag- 
ing the fight to legalize marijuana. 

Marijuana Policy Project 

PO. Box 77492 

Capitol Hill 

Washington, D.C. 20013 

202-462-5747 

www.mpp.org 

Lobbies the federal government 
to replace marijuana prohibition 
with reasonable regulations. 

Drug Reform Coordination 

Network 

www.druglibrary.org 

Maintains the largest online drug 
policy library. Links include an ex- 
tensive collection of drug policy re- 
ports and a site devoted to medical 

marijuana resources. 


53 


54 


COOTIES 


offer the answer. She gives 


I doubt I'm the only 
one who found Susie 
Bright's analysis of the 
AIDS panic (The Playboy 
Forum, March) annoyingly 
glib. When it comes to 
sexual partners, my motto 
has been caveat emptor. 
My last relationship end- 
ed because my partner 
cheated on me in risky, 
unprotected encounters 
and withheld that infor- 
mation from me. Sexual 
desire is natural, but | 
putting another at risk | 
without his or her knowl- 
edge or consent to satisfy 
that desire is malicious, if 
not immoral. 

R. Hauer 
Brooklyn, New York 


Susie Bright generously 
shares with us her wit, adult vo- 
cabulary and utter disdain for 
anyone who holds a position 
contrary to hers. The article is 
introduced by a blurb deriding 
conclusions made out of igno- 
rance and "dishonesty appar- 
ent in the panic that shadows 
the AIDS epidemic" We are 
then treated to numerous ex- 
amples of both. 

Bright's panacea for the fear 
of contracting AIDS? Don't 
worry. Do your thing, and if 
you do somehow contract AIDS, 
you should join a cannabis club 
and have sex with someone 
who is likewise infected. Better 
that you should die before 
graduation, pronounces Bright's 
twisted logic, than miss an 
orgasm. 

Now that we all agree that 
people should have sex any 
time and with as many partners 
as they can seduce, the next subject is 
how to do it. In her discussion of oral 
sex, she says that "to swallow or not to 
swallow is the question." Take heart 
from the words of the savior Bright, 
who assures us that "people are do- 
ing it and surviving quite nicely." In 
other words, go forth, be fruitful and 
open wide. 


William Broderick 
Willowbrook, Illinois 


FOR THE RECORD 


NEW WORLD PORN 


“The problem most women have who don't 
like porn is that they don't recognize the female. 
characters in it as “like me'—either physically, or 
in their desires. These big-breasted porno bim- 
bos want to have sex all the time, with any guy 
no matter how disgusting. They will do any- 
thing, moan like they like it and aren't repulsed 
by male body fluids—in fact, they adore them. 
Women who dislike porn refer to this as a male 
fantasy, but what exactly is it a fantasy about? 
Well, it seems to be a fantasy of a one-gender 
world, a world in which male and female sexual- 
ity is completely commensurable, as opposed to. 
whatever sexual incompatibilities actually exist. 
Heterosexual male pornography creates a fan- 
tastical world that has two sexes but one gender. 
That one gender looks a lot more like what 
we think of (perhaps stereotypically) as ‘male.’ 
Pornography’s premise is this: What would a 
world in which men and women were sexually 
alike look like?” 


lots of veiled criticism 
about the AIDS panic but 
nothing in the way of sta- 
tistics or facts—not one 
single quote. When Bright 
denounces the Saltworks 
Theater Co. for depicting 
a character who gets HIV 
after one or two encoun- 
ters, she makes Denn of 
what is a real possibility. 
Incredibly bad luck, yes, 
but not something to be 
denigrated with a flippant 
remark. And who did she 
think her readership was 
when she came up with 
the following: "You can 
envision gallons of semen 
from 50 cowboys pump- 
ing up your ass . . ."? Asa 
heterosexual male who reads 
PLAYBOY at night, I can assure 
you this is not the image I want 
in my head before 1 go to 
sleep—or ever! 

R.G. Bernstein 

St. George, Maine 
You're right. Ten cowboys would 
have made the point. 


I like Bright's well-written ar- 
ticle, but I take umbrage at a 
couple of terms used. These are 
the Nineties, not the Sixties, 
and it may be time to use more 
appropriate English. The of- 
fending words? 

(1) Fuck: We all do it, but I 
would prefer to describe it as 
copulate. 

(2) Queer: I would prefer 
gay or homosexual. 

1 am a happy, gay man born 
as such. Gay, not queer. 

"Tom Stanton 
Buffalo, New York 


— FROM Bound and Gagged, BY LAURA KIPNIS 


The Playboy Forum has always been an 
informative and vanguard editorial 
section, but Bright leaves nothing but a 
big void in the minds of your readers. 
“Cooties” ruminates pointlessly over 
AIDS, an issue of grave concern to 
everyone. 

Among the article’s many failures, it 
asks: Is it safe to engage in oral sex 
when you have mouth sores or lesions? 
Bright poses the question but does not 


THE CRYING GAME 
If Brown University’s treat- 
ment of Adam Lack (“Cry Rape,” The 
Playboy Forum, March) was biased, so 
was Ted Fishman’s summation of the 
case. There are no innocent parties 
here, including Lack. If, during a frat 
party, you find a strange woman asleep 
on the floor with the scent of vomit on 
her clothes, chances are she isn't catch- 
ing up on her beauty rest. Under the 
guise of being helpful, Lack roused the 
woman, invited her into his bedroom 


КЕИ Э 


and then lay down with her. What did 
he have on his mind? Lack insists he 
couldn't tell that the woman was inebri- 
ated. Only someone willfully ignorant 
would miss that fact. To lie down with 
her while she was intoxicated was 
predatory. What a miserable, degrad- 
ing way to make love. As for the woman 
in this case: Honey, I have no sympathy 
for you. Getting drunk and passing out 
in a strange bedroom shows a pathetic 
lack of judgment. If the disciplinary 
panel had guts, it would have consid- 
ered those ten shots of alcohol she con- 
sumed a cry for counseling. To allow 
people to absolve themselves of re- 
sponsibility for their actions because of 
intoxication sets a dangerous prece- 
dent. Does that mean drunk drivers 
aren't criminally responsible for the 
hundreds of traffic fatalities they cause 
each year? Anyone with common sense 
would see that this case is a morbid 
drama between two people who need 
to grow up. 

FE. O'Halloran 

Prescott, Ontario 


Come out of the Dark Ages, Brown 
University! A man should be responsi- 
ble not only for his own behavior but 
for the woman's behavior as well? Give 
me a break! Women who refuse to take 
responsibility for their behavior give 
the rest of us a bad name. 

Robin Fogle 
Mount Sterling, Kentucky 


I am deeply disturbed by “Cry 
Rape.” I am a liberal, progressive man 
who is sensitive to the issues of sexual 
harassment and unwanted sexual ad- 
vances and assaults. However, the 
name of Lack's accuser should be pub- 
lished so the world will know who was 
behind this ridiculous situation. It 
would be a public service to warn men 
of such potential dangers. Can Lack 
sue this woman in open court? I would 
love to see her undergo a thorough 
cross-examination. 

Robert Marcus 
Austin, Texas 


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, Illinois 60611. Please include a 
daylime phone nunber. Fax number: 312- 
951-2939. E-mail: forum@playboy.com 
(please include your city and state). 


BIGOT NESE 


WHORES ARE MY HEROES. 


XXXOOO: Love and Kisses From Annie Sprinkle is a two-volume collection of “post- 
porn postcards." The performance artist urges fans to send regards to friends and 
lovers with postcards. Below, we reprint the text from one of the cards. (You can also 
show postal workers a good time in the process.) 

(1) Whores havethe ability to share their most private, sensitive body parts with to- 

tal strangers. 

(2) Whores have access to places other people don't. 

(3) Whores challenge sexual mores. 

(4) Whores are playful. 

(5) Whores are tough. 

(6) Whores have careers based on giving pleasure. 

(7) Whores are creative. 

(8) Whores are adventurous and dare to live. 

dangerously. 

(8) Whores teach people how to be better lovers. 

(10) Whores are multicultured and multigendered. 

(11) Whores give excellent advice and help people 

with personal problems. 

(12) Whores have fun. 

(13) Whores wear exciting clothes. 

(14) Whores have patience and tolerance for peo- 

ple other people could never put up with. 

(15) Whores make lonely people less lonely. 

(16) Whores are independent. 

(17) Whores teach people how to have safer sex. 

(18) Whores are a tradition. 

(19) Whores are hip. 


(20) Whores have good senses of humor. 
(21) Whores relieve millions of people of unwanted 
Stress and tension. 


(22) Whores heal. 

(23) Whores endure in the face of fierce prejudice. 

(24) Whores make good money. 

(25) Whores always have jobs. 

(26) Whores are sexy and erotic. 

(27) Whores have special talents other people don't 
have. Not everyone has what it takes to be a 
whore. 

(28) Whores are interesting people with exciting 
life stories. 

(29) Whores get laid a lot. 

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Each volume is $11.95 and cen be ordered by calling 800-213-8170 or through the 

Gates of Heck Web site at www.heck.com. 


56 


N E W 


5 ЖЕЕ FR 


O N T 


what's happening in the sexual and social arenas 


KINGSVILLE, TEXAS—Kleberg County 
commissioners voted to encourage citizens 
10 say "heaveno" instead of "hello" to 
avoid a perceived allusion to the dark side. 


The resolution passed unanimously after a 
grassroots campaign by flea market opera- 
tor Leonso Canales. "I see hell in hel 

Canales told a reporter. "It's disguised by 
the o, but once you see й, it slaps you in the 


face." The resolution makes the use of 
heaveno oftional because, as one commis- 
sioner noted, “we didn't want to get into 
the issue of separation of church and 
state.” Canales now hopes to persuade 
Texas governor George W. Bush to adopt 
heaveno as the official Texan greeting. 


CRIME AND PUNISHMENT == 


WASHINGTON, D.C—A Justice Depart- 
ment study on sex crimes revealed several 
trends. On the enforcement side, it found 
that rapists are serving longer sentences 
and being paroled or placed on probation 
much less often than other violent offend- 
ers. At the same time, the number of rapes 
investigated by police in 1995 fell to the 
lowest level in six years—though the study 
noted that just a third of sexual assaults 
are being reported. That may be in part be- 
cause an increasing number of rape vic- 
tims are minors. In the study, 15 percent 
were younger than 12, and 29 percent 
were 12 to 17 years old. Despite percep- 
tions that most rapes involve strangers who 
attack adults, a large percentage of victims 


are, in fact, adolescent and teenage girls 
raped by men they know. 


“THEREFORE FAM NAKED =~ 

MEAUX, FRANCE—A high school teacher 
was suspended after playing “strip philos- 
ophy” with his students. On several occa- 
sions the 51-year-old instructor offered to 
remove pieces of clothing for each conun- 
drum posed by his pupils that he could not 
answer. At the end of one particularly tax- 
ing lesson, he found himself nude. A stu- 
dent defended the exercise. “There was 
nothing sexual about it,” she said. “He 
was showing that he was just like us.” The 
parents of another student filed criminal 
charges of “sexual exhibitionism,” and 
school officials stepped in. 


> EMAILTREACHERY — 


REDWOOD CITY, CALIFORNIA —Á jury 
found the ex-girlfriend of a billionaire 
software mogul guilty of perjury and falsi- 
Ping evidence after she forged e-mail to 
win a $100,000 settlement in a wrongful- 
termination suit. The forged message im- 
plied that the woman had been fired be- 
cause she ended an 18-month relationship 
with Oracle Corp. chief executive Larry 
Ellison and refused to have sex with him. 
The woman attempted to use the settlement 
money to post bail, but the judge would not 
accept it. 


- FINGERING CHEATS 


ALBANY, NEW YORK—The state’s De- 
partment of Social Services reported that 
its welfare rolls dropped by almost 25,000 
cases after it began requiring recipients to 
provide fingerprints. About 90 percent of 
those cut from the rolls live in New York 
City, and investigators believe many were 
receiving multiple checks. Officials next 
plan to share the database with neighbor- 
ing states. 


TWO STRIKES AND A BALL 


WASHINGTON, D.C—The U.S. Supreme 
Court ruled that federal judges may tack 
on additional time to a defendant's sen- 
tence based on allegations rather than con- 
victions. In one case before the Court, a 
California man convicted of possessing co- 
caine but acquitted of a related gun charge 
was given a prison term reflecting both 
charges. In its 7-2 decision, the Supreme 


Court ruled that even if a jury did not find 
a defendant guilty “beyond a reasonable 
doubt,” a judge could consider unproved 
charges at sentencing if he or she believed 
them to be true by “a preponderance of the 
evidence" —a much lower standard. The 
Court concluded that an acquittal “does 
not prove that the defendant is innocent,” 
only that there wasn’t enough evidence to 
convince the jury. Applying that logic, who 
needs juries? 


N N 

WASHINGTON, D.C. —An amendment to 
the Fair Credit Reporting Act, passed qui- 
etly as part of antiterrorism legislation, al- 
lows the FBI to view credit reports without 
a court order or grand jury subpoena and 
without the previously mandated notation 
that it conducted a check. The FBI can 
now retrieve any of millions of credit re- 


ports without a warrant and without leav- 


ing behind smudges. Feel safer? 


pA et 


CLIMAX, NORTH CAROLINA—A judge 
awarded a woman $90,000 after she 
claimed her skydiving instructor fondled 
her during a tandem jump. The 21-year- 
old college student, who was harnessed to 


the front of her teacher, said he touched her 
breasts after their parachute opened and 
she reached up to grab the lines. “It was 
my first and last jump,” she said. The 
instructor did not show up in court to 
answer the charges. 


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PLAYBOY INTERVIEW: DENNIS RODMAN 


a candid conversation with the nba's boa-clad bad boy about rebounding, oral sex, 
lap dances, kicking that cameraman and how, deep down, he's really a very shy man 


“This will be y most difficult interview 
ever” So said a friend who has prowled a 
few nights with the Chicago Bulls’ freaky 
forward. Three days later we agreed that 
hanging with Dennis Rodman, discussing 
his public and private self in hotel rooms, 
casinos and nightclubs, was difficult at 
times—times like sunup, for instance. It was 
also rewarding in unexpected ways. 

Our weekend with Rodman began with a 
visit to his agent, Dwight Manley, one of the 
real-life models for Tom Cruise's character 
in “Jerry Maguire.” Yes, Manley said, Den- 
nis liked the idea of doing PLAYBOY. And 
since ће was serving an I I-game suspension 
for kicking a cameraman, he had some fice 
time. But there would be ground rules. “Not 
rules so much as ways of approaching Den- 
nis,” said Manley, as if he were discussing 
nitroglycerin. In the end, however, the Rod- 
man rules were simple. First, Dennis does 
only and exactly what he wants. Might talk, 
might not. Meet him for dinner, hit a few 
nightclubs. If he offers to buy you a lap 
dance, you're in. 

Erratic? Expensive? Extremely, but any 
difficulty was a small price for quality time 
with the only cross-dressing, nose- and scro- 
tum-pierced, best-selling millionaire author 
we know. 

Rodman was born 36 years ago and grew 


up in the Oak Cliff projects of south Dallas. 


“Not to be bigheaded, but you can put me up 
there with Jim Morrison, Jimi Hendrix and 
Janis Joplin. They say Elvis is dead. 1 say, 
no, you're looking at him. Elvis isn't dead, he 
just changed color.” 


His father, Philander Rodman, abandoned 
the family when Dennis was three. Philander 
eventually moved to the Philippines, where 
he claims to have fathered 27 children. Den- 
nis grew up with his disapproving mother, 
Shirley, and two younger sisters, Debra and 
Kim, who both played basketball better than 
he did. The girls became college all-Ameri- 
cans, while their big brother became a jani- 
tor and a thief. 

After Shirley kicked her bad boy out of the 
house, Rodman was homeless. At 20 he was 
pushing a broom on the graveyard shift at 
Dallas-Fort Worth International Airport. 
One night he used a broom handle to pilfer 
30 watches from a closed gift shop. He was 
jailed overnight and fired. Rodman hit bot- 
tom, then rebounded in а big way. He had 
grown almost 12 inches in a year. The clum- 
sy high schooler who had never played a var- 
sity game was now a force in neighborhood 
pickup games. Still, his coming-out party 
flopped. While averaging 17 points and 13 
rebounds for Cooke County Junior College, 
Rodman flunked out. 

Fortunately for today’s Bulls fans, as well 
as for MTV and the feather boa industry, an 
assistant coach at tiny Southeastern Okla- 
homa State University saw Rodman play 
that year. Soon Dennis was a hoops hero in 
Durant, Oklahoma. 

From 1984 to 1986 he averaged 26 points 


“Lam about to do something that has never 
been done. Before next season 1 am going to 
sign a $9 million or $10 million contract 
and tell the team, ‘If I'm not worth й, don't 
pay me." DU play the whole year for free." 


and 15.6 rebounds for the Southeastern 
Oklahoma State Savages. Rodman was a 
three-time N. all-American. Still, he says 
he was “a lost soul.” Durant had a popula- 
tion of 6000. It was 5999 white folks and 
him. Fortunately a local family had taken 
him in. James Rich, a mailman, his wife, 
Pat, and their 13-year-old son, Bryne, virt 
ally adopted Rodman. Bryne, who had acci- 
dentally shot and killed his best friend on a 
hunting trip, had terrible nightmares and 
needed a friend. Dennis, at 22, needed a 
family. On his first night in the Rich home he 
left the couch and slept on a trundle bed in 
Bryne's room. 

Soon Rodman was milking cows and feed- 
ing chickens. Though he loved his foster fam- 
ily, he couldn't escape outsider status. The 
Riches tried to accept their friend Worm (a 
nickname for the way he wiggled playing vid- 
eo games). Yet there was evil gossip in town. 
It got so bad that Pat was reluctant to go out 
in public with Dennis. Eventually they be- 
came a functional family, and the Riches 
filled a gap in Rodman's life between the 
projects and the NBA, where he finally found 
the father he had been looking for: 

In 1986 Detroit Pistons coach Chuck Daly 
risked the 27th pick of the NBA draft on the 
skinny no-name who became, at 25, the old- 
est rookie in the league. During the next 
two seasons Daly, a man Rodman almost 


PHOTOGRAPHY BY BILL SMITH 
“I don't ask people to look up to me. Nobody 
in the world is a role model except to his oum 
kids. People think athletes are role models, 
but they're wrong. 1 do ask people to respect 
Uw individuality I bring to the table.” 


59 


worshiped, eased Dennis past All-Star Adri- 
an Dantley into the starting lineup for the 
famed Bad Boy Pistons. In the 1988-1989 
season, Rodman averaged 9.4 rebounds and 
Detroit swept the Lakers for the NBA title. 

Detroit won another championship the 
next season. Rodman was the league's defen- 
sive player of the year. He would soon lead 
the NBA in rebounding year after year; his 
1991-1992 average of 18.7 rebounds was 
the best since Wilt Chamberlain led the 
league two decades earlier. But by 1993 De- 
troit's title team was dismantled and Daly 
was cased out—belrayed by the club, Rod- 
man thought. 

One day that year, Detroit police found 
Rodman in his pickup truck at dawn. He 
had a loaded rifle next to him and said that 
he was contemplating suicide. Before long he 
had been traded to San Antonio, where his 
colorful mean streak started making news. 

It was in Texas that Rodman started dye- 
ing his hair. Next came tattoos and piercing, 
and he began making borderline nutty state- 
ments. The man who didn't play much of- 
fense started giving plenty. He belittled 
Spurs coach Bob Hill, calling him Boner. He 
also expressed contempt for Spurs hero Da- 
vid Robinson, publicly questioning Robin- 
son's guts. He refused to help Robinson on 
defense and turned his back on team hud- 
dles. He started going AWOL, Rodman won 
the rebounding title both years in San Anto- 
nio, but in 1995 the Spurs gladly traded him 
to Chicago for Will Perdue. 

That deal had a notable sidelight. Bulls 
stars Michael Jordan and Scottie Pippen 
have veto power on trades, but both agreed to 
welcome Rodman to Chicago. Though they 
remembered the 1991 playoffs, when Rod- 
man shoved Pippen into the stands (leaving 
Pippen with a nasty gash on his face and 
Rodman with a $5000 fine), the Bulls’ scor- 
ers wanted the game’s best rebounder on 
their side, 

Today, Pippen's chin bears the scar of 
Rodman's cheap shot. And Jordan can bare- 
ly conceal his irritation with the Bulls’ antic 
antihero. Yet with all three of them in the 
lineup, there is little doubt the Bulls are the 
best team the game has ever seen. 

Meanwhile, Rodman transcends his craft. 
It was news last year when “Sports Illustrat- 
ed” suggested that he might be the best rè- 
bounder of all time. Wilt Chamberlain has 
disagreed. In turn, Rodman has challenged 
Wilt by attacking a statistic that means as 
much to both men as rebounds: sexual con- 
quests, When the Stilt boasted of having had 
sex with 20,000 women, Rodman wrote in 
his best-seller, “Bad As I Wanna Be,” that 
“Wilt Chamberlain lied out of his ass.” That 
was one of many naughty bits in the book 
that made the tattooed cross-dresser @ 
crossover superstar. He also quoted Madon- 
na’s pillow talk: “Are you going to eal my 
pussy first?” and "I want every drop of your 
come inside me.” 

Then he acted hurt when she called him 
“disgusting 

Rodman is good at acting hurt. His book 
60 portrays him as something of an all-purpose 


PLAYBOY 


victim: Nobody understands him, everybody 
wants a piece of him. And while some of his 
poor-Dennis pose is mere marketing—would 
anyone feel sorry for a happy millionaire? — 
his gripes sound sincere when you meet him. 

For all his fame and his millions, Rodman 
carries a big chip on his tattooed shoulder 
Yes, he has a big-budget action movie, “Dou- 
ble Team,” in theaters near you. He has his 
own show on MTV. He has a new book, 
“Walk on the Wild Side,” out to explain his 
innermost thoughts. Yet he insists that he is 
misunderstood. Maybe that’s what makes 
Dennis Rodman the most postmodern celeb 
of them all. He is everywhere, emptily. He is 
in your face in movies, TV, bookstores, video 
games, action figures and virtual reality, but 
he says you don't really know him. 

We sent Contributing Editor Kevin Cook to 
Las Vegas to get to know Rodman. He was 
Joined by well-known Chicago businessman 
Bill Marovitz, who assisted Cook both as an 
interviewer and as a guide on some unique 
Rodmanesque adventures. Cook reports: 

“We met in Las Vegas, where the scenery 
matches Rodman's hair. I arrived at the Mi- 
rage Hotel and Casino, his Vegas headquar- 
ters, with time to spare. In fact, since it took 


My life is a circus. 
My year is 365 days of 
fucking confusion. But 

Pm still leading in 

rebounding. 


Rodman about 28 hours to show up for our 
first talk, I had time to prepare a long list of 
questions 

"Those questions wound up on a disco 
floor somewhere. My first night with Dennis 
taught me that lists are useless with this guy. 
He may be the most nonlinear man I've ever 
met. You don't need questions to talk with 
Dennis Rodman. Benzedrine, maybe. One 
does not sit with him. Instead you chase him, 
ride in limos and watch topless dancers with 
him, keep changing the subject until a topic 
sparks his interest. Going into this interview 
1 expected him to be surly, but at two AM, 
even after a few drinks, he was bright-cycd 
and funny, with a knack for metaphor that 
startled me. 

“After a day of waiting 1 had hooked up 
with his crew for а ten PM. dinner at the Mi- 
rage. Ten PM. is the beginning of late for me, 
but for Rodman it's the dawn of a night he 
intends to grab and squeeze like a stray re- 
bound. That night, fresh off a standing ova- 
tion on Jay Leno’s “Tonight Show,’ Rodman 
strode through the Mirage in furry tiger- 
striped pants and a leather shirt that showed 
off his muscled chest. His hair was the color 
of a lemon-lime Lava lamp. He lifted an eye- 
brow when his agent announced that I was 


there to do the Dennis Rodman ‘Playboy In- 
terview.’ Rodman's expression said, ‘We'll 
see about that.” 

“During the next three days I would sleep 
a total of five hours. I would get to know the 
Rodman group, featuring Manley as well as 
Dennis’ weekend girlfriend. And wise Wen- 
dell Williams, Rodman's 280-pound body- 
guard, gave me the first quote 1 wrote down: 
“Dennis isn't crazy. Dennis is frec. 

“Rodman is no ordinary chat. 1 didn't so 
much converse uith him as step into his 
stream of consciousness. 

“We began in his limo, zooming past the 
giant fountain at Caesars Palace." 


RODMAN: Evel Knievel jumped a mo- 
torcycle over this fountain. That was 
so cool. 

PLAYBOY: Is that your idea of celebrity? 
RODMAN: You know how I see it? Not 
to be bigheaded, but shit, you can put 
me up there with Jim Morrison, fuck- 
ing goddamn Jimi Hendrix and Janis 
Joplin. 

PLAYBOY: They're all dead. 

RODMAN: They say Elvis is dead. 1 say, 
no, yov're looking at him. Elvis isn't 
dead, he just changed color. 

PLAYBOY: You're in Chicago Bulls colo: 
tonight—a floor-length red jacket and 
black shirt. 

RODMAN: No. This coat is not red. It's hot 
pink. I am a multicolored individual. A 
different color every day. They call me 
the Worm, but that's wrong. I'm the 
fucking chamelcon. 

PLAYBOY: Why is America paying you so 
much attention? 

RODMAN: I give them a little thrill, all the 
people who forgot that life is fun. It's like 
The Phantom of the Opera—it might scare 
them, but they like it. But it's just a fad. 
I'm a fad. 1 am on fire right now, dude, 
but it won't last forever. 

PLAYBOY: Are you more comfortable in 
public or in private? 

RODMAN: Public. 

[As his entourage streamed through the 
casino at the Rio Suite Hotel, all eyes followed 
the towering, pink-coated Rodman. Whether 
hie was gambling or on the move, his only pro- 
tection was bodyguard Williams, who gently 
turned away autograph seekers. One girl got 
to Dennis by pleading, actually going to one 
knee as she cried, “Please! It's my bachelorette 
party.” With а nod lo his bodyguard —"Ir's 
OK”— Rodman allowed the girl to kiss him, 
and she raced down an aisle of slot machine: 
yelling, “I hissed Dennis Rodman! I hissed 
Dennis Rodman!” 

We sat in Club Rio at a table soon lit- 
tered with empty shot glasses and beer bottles. 
The star seemed momentarily bored. There 
were two autograph hunters nearby; Rodman 
pointed to me as if trying to impress them.] 
RODMAN: [Jo the fans] No autographs. 
Doing an interview here. 

PLAYBOY: Does all the hubbub ever both- 
er you? 

RODMAN: [Nodding, calling for a round of 
drinks] I was in this club and when I went 


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PLAYBOY 


up to dance, everybody stopped danc- 
ing. They stood there watching me. I sat 
back down. 

PLAYBOY: How do you relax? 

RODMAN: Spend time with people who 
have a good time. The people you see in 
my limo. Fuckers who are fun. People 
who p-A-R-T-y! Why party? Because I 
can. [He hugs his female companion.] This 
is fun right here. When you are in Den- 
nis Rodman's clan you celebrate the liv- 
ing of life. So once I'm with people I like, 
I relax. Because I know there's people 
out there who want to fuck me. 

PLAYBOY: Thousands. 

RODMAN: No, I don't mean literally want 
to fuck me. There are assholes who don't 
like me. 

PLAYBOY: Including 
the NBA? 

RODMAN: I fuck up 
the NBA image, their 
whole business enter- 
prise. Because I can 
express myself as an 
individual. In their 
high-society sport, 
I bring it from 
the heart. 

PLAYBOY: You are 
known for your court. 
sense—for anticipat- 
ing what's going to 
happen next on the 
floor. Can you do that 
with trends, too? Did 
you plan the Rod- 
man fad? 

RODMAN: My things 
are never planned. I 
visualize, I focus and 
analyze, but I'm al- 
ways in the here and 
now. Once I learned 
to be myself, to ex- 
press myself, the rest 
just happened. And 
now I’m in the at- 
mosphere. I am the 
reality. I'm Elvis, Jimi 
Hendrix and the 
Grateful Dead all 
wrapped into one. 


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is planned. My life is more addictive. But 
I love it. I keep Lucifer wondering, What 
will he do next? Will he really play his 
last game in the nude? 

PLAYBOY: Michael Jordan told us he's 
against any such thing. 

RODMAN: 1с] happen. You'll see it. 
PLAYBOY: Some people call you the 
world’s weirdest athlete. 

RODMAN: I'm not an athlete. Athletes are 
boring, typical and predictable. I can't 
even watch them talk on TV. You know, 
the scene after the game. 

PLAYBOY: They're all putting the team 
first and giving 110 percent. 

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PLAYBOY: Should Amos have been there? 
In other sports the press isn't allowed to 
be so close to the action. 

RODMAN: We need more room. The cam- 
eras they use today can shoot pictures of 
you from the moon, so why are they 
right up on the court? I could have bro- 
ken my leg running into him and his 
camera. I think they should be at least 
two or three feet back. 

PLAYBOY: Amos dropped charges against 
you after you paid him a handsome set- 
tlement. How did that work? Did you 
have a met p 

RODMAN: It was a telephone call. He 
sounded like a politician. "Thank you 
very much," he said, "and God bless." 
"Then I see on the news, just last week— 
Eugene Amos got ar- 
rested for beating his 
girlfriend. 

PLAYBOY: Vindication? 
RODMAN: Vindication 
in a way. It shows you 
“a E that life has its wacky 
ways of working out. 
PLAYBOY: Maybe Amos 
should give your 
$200,000 to his girl- 
friend. 

RODMAN: He should 
give it back to my ass. 
PLAYBOY: Speaking of 
numbers. you state 
that Wilt Chamber- 
lain lied when he 
claimed he'd had sex 
with 20,000 women. 
But you have never 
mentioned your own 
career total. 

RODMAN: In my whole 
life I have had be- 
tween 25 and 30 
women. Maybe five 
good ones 

PLAYBOY: You wrote in 
your book that you 
were still a virgin 
at 20. 

RODMAN; Well, I’m 
making up for lost 
time. My hormones 


© 197 (MI 


The president of the 
United States gets a hard-on just think- 
ing about me. 

PLAYBOY: Supposedly that doesn't take 
much. 

RODMAN: His wife was on TV, joking 
around that she was “Hillary Rodman 
Clinton.” Now, I always thought you had 
to have sex with a person before you 
took his name. So maybe she was think- 
ing about it. I can see them in bed, the 
president's making love and she's say- 
ing, "Oh, oh, Dennis—1 mean, Bill!" 
PLAYBOY: What else amuses you about 
your fad? 

RODMAN: My life is a circus. My year is 
365 days of fucking confusion. But I'm 
still leading in rebounding, 600-plus re- 


62 bounds in only 30-some games. Nothing 


when their careers are over. 1 am above 
all that. But still, 1 have my downfall 
every year. Some little thing blows up on 
me. A couple years ago I head-butted a 
ref and got suspended. This year it was 
kicking that cameraman motherfucker, 
Eugene Amos. 

PLAYBOY: Amos is a courtside photogra- 
pher. You plowed into him trying to save 
a loose ball. What made you kick him? 
RODMAN: It was a trigger reaction. Can't 
I have a bad day? It’s like you coming 
home from work. Maybe you've been 
working hard, focusing hard all day, you 
come home and your wife sits there 
bitching about the smallest fucking 
thing. Something triggers in the brain 
and you might lash out. 


run wild like the 
fever of typhus, baby. 

PLAYBOY: Why such a late start? 

RODMAN: When you live in the commu- 
nity I was in, with no money, and you're 
not good-looking. I didn’t have shit. 
Never went to the school prom. I didn't 
even like girls. Look, when you are just 
a motherfucking guy in the neighbor- 
hood trying to survive, it’s not a sexual 
environment. 

PLAYBOY: “Not good-looking”? Is that 
what you think when you look in the 
mirror? 

RODMAN: I don't look at mirrors. I'm too 
fucking ugly. 

PLAYBOY: Wc could casily round up 100 
women who would jump at the chance to 
sleep with you tonight. 


RODMAN: 1 just don't like mirrors. 
PLAYBOY: Is it true that you were so 
asexual you didn't masturbate until you 
were 19? 

RODMAN: That's right. But the first time, 
I was already an expert. Just about 
jerked the head off it. [He mimes wrestling 
а fire hose.] 

PLAYBOY: You've said you try to be faith- 
ful to whomever your current girlfriend 
may be. If she's not in town you some- 
times satisfy yourself. You even gave 
your hands sexy names. 

RODMAN: Monique and Judy. In case I 
get frustrated and confused, I always 
know they can help my ass out. If Mo- 
nique gets tired, turn to Judy. 

PLAYBOY: Not everyone is so candid about 
masturbating. 

RODNAN: Masturbation happens 1.6 bil- 
lion times a day. Every man and woman 
does it. It's like the wildfires of Califor- 
nia, baby, so we may as well say it. 

[By now we had changed venues again. We 
were al a club called Drink and Eat Too. Even 
louder than the Rio, it was jammed with 
drinkers, dancers and Rodman-watchers. The 
watchee stood in a corner behind the bar, 
which was a step above Ihe floor. From there he 
peered impassively down at all the faces up- 
turned toward him. We had given up our talk 
for the night; Drink was too loud. Then Rod- 
man shouted, “Reporter, reporter!” We were 
under way again. 

PLAYBOY: You say your goal in life is free- 


dom, being free of society's rules or even 
those of the NBA. When do you feel 
free? 

RODMAN: Having sex. 

Tell us more. What do you want 


RODMAN: I want a woman who's free. 
That means she’s independent and de- 
sirable. 1 could use some independence 
in a woman, too. Usually when I have 
sex 1 am in control, I'm dominant, but 
Id like some woman to get on top of me 
and be in control for half an hour, do me 
for a half hour. Then we'd be even. 
PLAYBOY: What makes a man good 
in bed? 

RODMAN: Confidence. He should be con- 
fident in his dick. And eat pussy big- 
time, too. Go down under and have a 
fucking groundhog for lunch, that’s my 
advice. 

PLAYBOY: Yet you wouldn't do that with 
Madonna. 

RODMAN: That was a flash in the past. 
Can we leave Madonna alone? She's 
a good woman. I hope she gets what 
she wants. 

PLAYBOY: That was gallant. OK, let's talk 
about your job. How does today's NBA 
compare with the league of ten years 
ago, when you were a rookie? 

RODMAN: It's going downhill. The young- 
er players have a whole different vibe, a 
different game. Some are big stars be- 
fore they even play in our league, and 


right away they want to be more famous. 
Everyone wants to shoot. Everybody 
wants to be a big fucking star. But there 
are only about 20 real stars, and maybe 
four shining stars, in the league. Maybe 
one ultimate star. 

PLAYBOY: Jordan? Or you? 

RODMAN: Who cares? I just rack and roll. 
PLAYBOY: You said four shining stars. 
Name them. 

RODMAN: No, you name them. Go ahead. 
Knock yourself out. 

PLAYBOY: Jordan, Shaq, you and Little 
Penny. 

RODMAN: I don't care. 1 don't like the 
whole athlete phenomenon. 

PLAYBOY: Hasn't it made you rich? To- 
night we watched you playing blackjack 
and craps with $1000 chips. You must. 
have had $30,000 in front of you. 
RODMAN: I've got between $25 million 
and $50 million, and I fucking E.F. Hut- 
toned it, dude. 1 earned it. 

PLAYBOY: You got the money and three 
championship rings for being a great re- 
bounder, the one who's famous for how 
much he studies the game. Even your 
critics say you might have the best court 
sense since Magic Johnson. Chamberlain 
was bigger and possibly better, but aren't 
you the thinkingest rebounder? 
RODMAN: I study my craft. I can visualize 
the court, the ball and the action on the 
rim all at once. Never the other player. I 
think the game, not the people in it. 


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PLAYBOY 


PLAYBOY: When you joined Chicago you 
spent hours in the gym rebounding for 
Jordan and Scottie Pippen. 

RODMAN: Studying. Programming my 
mind. I study the people who shoot the 
ball. The way they like to shoot, where 
the ball likes to come off when they 
miss—you get a feel for it. Then when 
the game starts I can let my mind relax 
and go into that feel, the flow of the 
game, It's like rolling dice. Sometimes 
you get a feel for the dice, You can feel a 
seven coming. The ball is funny like that; 
Ill watch the ball—even watching a 
game on TV—and know if it's going off 
to the right or to the left. 

PLAYBOY: Do you think teenagers such as 
Kevin Garnett, Kobe Bryant and Jer- 
maine O'Neal know their craft? 
RODMAN: They're not here just because 
somebody said they were good, are they? 
They have real talent. They had the feel- 
ing, now they have to show us they're 
that good. I think they can do it, but they 
haven't yet. 

PLAYBOY: Are younger players worth 
what they're getting paid? 
RODMAN: Paying players $90 million is 
ridiculous. Even $30 million—think of 
the lifetimes people work to get that 
much money. If you're going to pay 
players $90 million, I say they should 
run the team. Get out of the way. But if 
you are going to pay this ridiculous 
money, pay the players who are worth it. 
Not the ones who haven't done it yet. 
Pay the ones who win. Pay the ones who 
are out there giving you 110 percent 
every night. 

PLAYBOY: People might be surprised to 
hear Dennis Rodman complain about 
overhyped NBA players. 

RODMAN: Fine, but you know what? 1 am 
about to do something that has never 
been done in the history of sport. Before 
next season I am going to sign a $9 mil- 
lion or $10 million contract and tell the 
team, “If I'm not worth it, don't pay 
me. If I don't play up to that contract, 
keep the money.” I'll play the whole year 
for free. 

PLAYBOY: Do you mean that? 

RODMAN: That's right. 

PLAYBOY: This is a pledge you're making 
here tonight? 

RODMAN: It is. I'm already giving money 
back. When 1 come off suspension, I'm 
giving my pay to charity for the first 11 
games. That's a million dollars, 

PLAYBOY: Does it sting to be suspended— 
kicked out of the game for a month? 
RODMAN: It gave me time to clear my 
head. Sometimes my life is so fucked up. 
1 don't know what's happening to me. I 
need time. 

PLAYBOY: You're no longer part of Nike's 
ad roster, are you? 

RODMAN: So I have no Nike deal. Nike is 
a swoosh in the past. 

he league has threatened seri- 
ousaction if you misbehave again. There 


64 has been talk of a lifetime ban. Pip- 


pen says you learn nothing from all 
your crime and punishment. Will you be 
more careful? 

RODMAN: No. If 1 fuck up, I fuck up. I 
live in the here and now, and I am not 
dead yet. But if I die tomorrow, I'll die 
with a smile on my face. 

PLAYBOY: Suppose you punch a coach 
tomorrow. Could you smile at a life- 
time ban? 

RODMAN: That won't happen. They will 
never do that. I am too much of a hot 
commodity. The NBA won't say goodbye 
to me. They need me. The NBA isa crip- 
ple and I am the crutch. Ha! They tell 
me to act like a typical athlete, but they 
are playing both sides of the fence. I get 
attention. They profit off me. But I am 
jiving those fogies and they can't do a 
damn thing about it. 
PLAYBOY: The Bulls rcportedly ordered. 
you to tone it down. How did that work? 
Did coach Phil Jackson or owner Jerry 
Reinsdorf call you in? 

RODMAN: They don't talk to me. In a 
sense they want to control me, but they 
really want me to go out in the games 
and do my thing. 


The NBA won! say 
goodbye to me. They 
need me. The NBA is 
a cripple and I am 
the crutch. 


PLAYBOY: You loved Chuck Daly, your 
first pro coach. Then his championship 
team was dismantled. Daly was bounced 
and you were traded. 

RODMAN: Chuck Daly was a loving, car- 
ing man who let you be a man. We won 
championships. It was a phase I went 
through. 

PLAYBOY: Are you a role model? 
RODMAN: No. I don't ask people to look 
up to me. Nobody in the world is a role 
model except to his own kids. People 
think athletes and entertainers are role 
models for kids, but they're wrong. Kids 
today have more options than we ever 
had. They don’t need me to show them. 
These kids are 15 years old, partying 
their asses off. Every day is Woodstock. 
But I do ask people to respect the indi- 
viduality I bring to the table. 

PLAYBOY: You are a role model for 
individualists. 

RODMAN: People say they don't want our 
young black kids looking like Dennis 
Rodman. I'm not asking for that. If it's 
what they choose, that's their business. 
PLAYBOY: Do you want to be back with the 
Bulls next year? 

RODMAN: Very much. 


PLAYBOY: Do you care whether Jackson 
coaches next year? 

RODMAN: It's important. You need to 
have confidence in a coach. 1 need a 
good vibe. 1 call Phil Jackson Lord of 
Lords—he is psychic. 1 have had two 
great coaches in my life, Chuck Daly and 
Phil Jackson. 1 don't want any more 
coaches. 

PLAYBOY: If you were uncool enough to 
coach, what team rules would you have? 
RODMAN: Show up for the game. Don't 
jive my ass. That's all you need. 
PLAYBOY: Are you friends with Michael 
Jordan? 

RODMAN: I told you 1 don't give a fuck 
about anybody in the NBA. I don't hang 
with athletes. Hanging with Michael Jor- 
dan is supposed to be big news? Please. 
PLAYBOY: You trashed some stars in your 
book: David Robinson is gutless, Pippen 
can be intimidated. How did they react? 
RODMAN: They didn't. I think they re- 
spected me for being myself. 

PLAYBOY: Talk about a few of your col- 
leagues. How would you describe Mi- 
chael Jordan? 

RODMAN: He's an intriguing, special 
performer. 

PLAYBOY: Scottie Pippen? 

RODMAN: A major star in his own world. 
PLAYBOY: Charles Barkley? 

RODMAN: The Reggie White of the NBA. 
PLAYBOY: Shaquille O'Neal? 

RODMAN: The future. 

PLAYBOY: Do you think NBA commission- 
er David Stern would like to kick you out 
of the league? 

RODMAN: I don't give a damn what David 
Stern thinks. He's not my fucking father. 
1 don't care what Stern thinks, but ГЇЇ 
tell you what he thinks. He thinks I’m 
good for the league. David Stern is a 
closet Dennis Rodman fan. 

PLAYBOY: Daly is often called your father 
figure. The same goes for James Rich, 
the Oklahoma mailman who took you 
into his home. Have you been looking 
for a father since Philander Rodman left 
when you were three years old? 
RODMAN: I don't think that’s truc. 
PLAYBOY: How did you manage with- 
out one? 

RODMAN: I got used to it. Anyway, a man 
can't make you be a man. You have to do 
that yourself. You figure out that life is 
unpredictable and complicated and that 
you may not be happy. That's when you 
become a man. 

PLAYBOY: Your father finally wrote to you 
last year. He sent you a letter from the 
Philippines. 

RODMAN: 1 didn’t get it. 

PLAYBOY: After 32 years, he said he want- 
ed to meet you. 

RODMAN: He tried to. To me he's just an- 
other person trying to get a piece of the 
action. 1 don't hate the guy, but hey, 1 
made it without him for all these years. 
If I met him I'd treat him like anybody 
else—like the people in the casino who 
want an autograph. After I got through 


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PLAYBOY 


with everybody else 1 would shake his 
hand, too, and say, “How you doing? 
Nice to meet you.” 

PLAYBOY: And move on. 

RODMAN: That's it. 

PLAYBOY: Like your vindication with the 
photographer. What goes around — 
RODMAN: Comes around. 

PLAYBOY: Is it true that you were so shy as 
a kid that you had to be pushed off the 
school bus? 

RODMAN: I wasn't really who I am until 
later. I was shy. I had the same feelings as 
the other kids, but on the outside I was 
just going through the motions. Other 
kids don't give you the option of being 
happy, being yourself. 

PLAYBOY: Did you ever try religion? 
RODMAN: Went to church every Sunday 
until I was 21. I grew up Christian, Bap- 
tist, but I could be it all. I do believe in a 
holy spirit. I don't think you need to go 
to church to pray. That almighty spirit is 
everywhere. God is out there working. 
PLAYBOY: Does he or she have a special 
plan for you? 

RODMAN: No. I have no purpose at all. I 
mean, we can always pray to the holy 
spirit to whisk us away and make every- 
thing better, but who knows if that 
prayer gets there? It's only a mirage. 
pLAYROY: It's probably safe to say that 
your God isn'tsome bearded giant wear- 
ing a white robe. 

RODMAN: Totally safe. 

PLAYBOY: Maybe white robes and a boa? 
RODMAN: Who knows? He might have on 
a thong. 

PLAYBOY: There is a bit of your legend 
that doesn't make sense—your theft of 
50 watches when you were a janitor at 
DFW airport. Everyone in the airport 
can see the security cameras all around. 
Didn't you know you would be caught? 
RODMAN: Maybe I did it to get caught. 
Sometimes in life you have to light some 
dynamite, see if it blows up. 

PLAYBOY: In a bid for popularity, you 
gave free watches to almost everyone 
you knew. 

RODMAN: I didn't need popularity. But I 
didn't need that many watches, and I 
didn't take them to sell them. It was 
more to try something different, see 
what happens. 

PLAYBOY: You must have felt alone the 
night you spent in jail. What was it like in 
an airport jail? 

RODMAN: It's a holding pen. They hand- 
cuff you. You sit and wait until the po- 
lice come pick you up and take you to 
real jail. 

PLAYBOY: Before you finally found bas- 
ketball stardom at Southeastern Okla- 
homa State, the James Rich family took 
you in. You befriended teenager Bryne 
Rich after he killed a friend in a hunting 
accident, and you lived with the Riches 
almost as a son. 

RODMAN: Bryne is still my best friend. We 
were a couple of lost souls. For us, life 


68 was fucking confusion plus a bunch of 


goddamn agony. You just hoped for 
some part-time happiness once in a 
while. 

PLAYBOY: What do the Riches think of 
your celebrity? 

RODMAN: They're not starstruck. Or they 
don't show it. One thing about people in 
Oklahoma, they don't show what they're 
thinking. 

PLAYBOY: Did you dream of playing in 
the NBA? 

RODMAN: Basketball wasn't my dream. I 
never considered it. 

PLAYBOY: No posters of Chamberlain or 
Bill Russell? 

RODMAN: If I had been like that, I 
wouldn't be here now. No, I didn't want 
to be in the NBA. But I always had an 
idea something was going to happen to 
me. It didn't start until I was over 30 
years old and learned to express mysclf. 
PLAYBOY: You were 31 when Detroit po- 
lice found you sleeping in your truck 
outside the Palace in Auburn Hills. You 
had a loaded rifle with you. You have 
said you were thinking of killing your- 
self. Instead, you decided to change 
your life. 

RODMAN: That was the beginning of sal- 
vation. I was 32 ycars old before I found 
out who I really am. From then on 1 just 
did it, whatever it was 

PLAYBOY: Soon came the tattoos, nose 
rings and wild hair. 

RODMAN: If not for that I would have 
been more subdued, just an athlete. But 
I'm having my childhood again from 
zero to 20. Right now I might be five 
years old. 

[Soon the Rodman party was in the limo to 
Paradise, a nightclub where Dennis bought 
more rounds of drinks. He handed his Peru- 
vian surfer friend, Pepe, a fistful of $1000 
chips for safekeeping—the bulge in Pepe's 
pockel easily held $20,000 in chips. Paradise 
is а gentlemen's club, a lap-dance joint. No 
touching; topless women writhe to disco music 
a half inch from men who pay to be teased. 
Dennis, who had already bought numerous 
drinks and flagons of coffee, offered to buy an- 
other round-—nol drinks this time, but lap 
dances.] 

PLAYBOY: Thanks, but no thanks. 
RODMAN: Come on. Just because you're 
married? 

PLAYBOY: Exactly. 

RODMAN: Your wife ain't God, man! She 
can't see through walls. 

[He playfully shoved us toward a dancer. 
Without thinking we shoved back. As body- 
guard Williams shot us a glance it occurred to 
us: Had we just missed a chance to earn a 
quick $200,000? Once again, much of our 
subsequent talk was shouted over pounding 
disco music. Sometimes D, as his friends call 
him, was being “lapped” as we spoke.) 
PLAYBOY: How many of the breasts here 
are all-natural? 

RODMAN: I'd say 40 percent. What are 
you drinking? Let's get three more Já- 
gers over here. 

PLAYBOY: Jágermeister—the shot-glass 


drink of champions. You have had more 
than a few tonight. How can you drink 
so much and still perform so well on the 
court? 
RODMAN: What the fuck did you say? 
PLAYBOY: Do you have a hangover cure? 
RODMAN: There is no such thing as a 
hangover cure. 
PLAYBOY: How can you drink so much 
and be so fit? 
RODMAN: I'm talking to you, right? I am 
on firel This will be a great interview for 
you. Because I prepared my mind, bro. I 
tan prepare my mind to party or do 
business. 1 can do both. Now, I don't 
party like this during the season, at least 
not every day. You have to pick your 
times. There are times when you need to 
do business, be physically inclined, do 
your job. That's when I do business first. 
and party later. 
PLAYBOY: Are you ever alone? 
RODMAN: Game days 1 keep to myself. 
PLAYBOY: Your workouts are grueling. 
You'll lift weights for two hours before a 
game, then run the court and tussle with 
some of the world's finest athletes, then 
pump iron for two more hours before 
you shower. Is that how you get the alco- 
hol out? How much weight do you lift in 
a day? 
RODMAN: I can lift what the mind can 
endure. 
PLAYBOY: What thoughts do you have 
when the ball is in play? Are you think- 
ing in words? 
RODMAN: It's a melody, brother. No mat- 
ter what the tempo of the gare, it's al- 
ways a melody. 
PLAYBOY: Off the court, can you control 
yourself? 
RODMAN: [Shrugs] Sometimes I don't 
know what the fuck is going on. I don't. 
I really don’t want to do some of the 
things I do. 
PLAYBOY: What's taboo to you? Anything? 
RODMAN: I don't believe in limits. Killing 
yourself is the only limit. 
PLAYBOY: Bob Knight thinks you're a 
fake. He calls you “the greatest hustler in 
the history of mankind.” 
RODMAN: He said hustler? 
PLAYBOY: Hustler. 
RODMAN: Then call me Mr. Flynt! ГЇЇ be 
the number one hustler, 
PLAYBOY: You wrote that there was a 
surge in AIDS awareness anong NBA 
players after Magic Johnson announced 
he was HIV-positive. 
RODMAN: Then it went back to the way it 
was. Athletes are like anybody else. They 
might plan to use a rubber, but then it 
doesn't feel right, so they take it off 
PLAYBOY: Doesn't every team have an 
AIDS meeting—some doctor or thera- 
pist coming in to tell all the players to 
use condoms? 
RODMAN: That lasts about 15 minutes. 
PLAYBOY: How much NBA sex do you 
think is safe sex? 
RODMAN: It's probably about 50-50. 
(continued on page 171) 


WHAT SORT OF MAN READS PLAYBOY? 


He's a man who prizes education. To keep him informed and entertained, he relies on his favorite 
magazine. PLAYBOY reaches 15 percent more college men than Men's Health and four times as 
many as Esquire. Today is graduation—but not from PLAYBOY. More than 4.2 million men read it 
after finishing college. More than 1.2 million PLAYBOY men with degrees go on to profes- 
Sional or managerial careers. PLAYBOY—an asset on every résumé. (Source: Fall 1996 MRI.) 


69 


Tur 


Roan To 
OKLAHOMA CITY 


the startling details of timothy mcveigh's plot to 


make and place the bomb that killed 168 


people in the worst act of domestic 


ARTICLE BY BEN FENWICK 


s a reporter in the Okla- 

homa City area, 1 cov- 

ered the events and pro- 

ceedings surrounding 

the bombing for several 
news organizations, most prominent- 
ly Reuters. I was on the site an hour 
after the explosion. In early spring 
1996 I obtained a 66-page chronology 
confirming that Timothy McVeigh 
bombed the Alfred P. Murrah Federal 
Building, specifying steps he says he 
took to execute the act. What follows 
is a narrative of the Oklahoma City 
bombing based on the document, 
which was assembled by Jones, Wyatt & 
Roberts, counsel for McVeigh. The 
summary document seems to be based 
on interviews with McVeigh, various 
research sources and investigative re- 
ports. Portions of this story appeared 
in March on pLaysoy’s Web site. In the 
interim I have expanded on the online 
version, elucidating certain parts of 
McVeigh’s account and addressing var- 
ious inconsistencies. 


On April 18, 1995, five days before 
his 27th birthday, Tim McVeigh drove 
a yellow Ryder truck out of Kansas, He 
told his defense team that he pulled 


terrorism in u.s. history 


over ata rest stop on Highway 77, near 
Emporia. McVeigh wore sunglasses 
and had on a baseball cap over his 
buzz-cut reddish-brown hair. Under 
his jacket he carried a loaded semiauto- 
matic Glock pistol in a shoulder holster. 

McVeigh got out of the truck, un- 
locked the back door, slid it up and 
jumped in. He checked the load, a 
homemade bomb. The barrels, core 
and fuses hadn't shifted. He placed the 
truck's rental agreement and his fake 
ID into the middle of the high-yield 
section of the bomb. The tools used to 
make the bomb were already stashed 
there. He jumped out, then pulled 
down the door and locked it. 

Late that night McVeigh reached the 
Blackwell exit of Interstate 35 near 
Ponca City, Oklahoma. He pulled into 
a truck parking lot so the truck could 
leak unnoticed onto the grass. The leak 
came from the load, not from the en- 
gine or fuel tank. Inside the truck was 
a mixture of 50-pound bags of fertiliz- 
er and 55-gallon barrels of nitrometh- 
ane racing fuel. He walked into a motel 
to get a room, but apparently thought 
better of it and left. He went back to 
the truck and bedded down in its cab 
for the night. At seven A.N. he awoke 
and headed to Oklahoma City. 

(According to my documentation, 
McVeigh mentions no accomplice in 


ILLUSTRATION BY MARSHALL ARISMAN. 


delivering the bomb. But his attorneys 
were skeptical, and when McVeigh 
took lie detector tests, he failed the 
parts that dealt with whether or not he 
had an accomplice that day in Okla- 
homa City.) 

McVeigh told his interviewers that, 
as he reached Oklahoma City, he took 
1-35 to its junction with 1-40, just 
southeast of downtown. He got on I- 
235 and turned off at the Harrison-4th 
Street exit, which took him into the 
heart of downtown, directly behind the 
Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building. 
(McVeigh said he and former Army 
buddy Michael Fortier had cased the 
building in December 1994.) That 
morning, he drove west past the back 
of the Murrah building and turned 
north on a one-way street. He then 
turned right at Fifth Street and pulled 
Over at a tire store. According to one 
ATF mock-up, he next reached down 
and yanked a wire under the seat. 

The wire went through a hole drilled 
between the cab and the cargo area, 
where the bomb sat. According to a 
government source involved in the in- 
vestigation, the wire was possibly at- 
tached to a pull-cord detonator, which 
burns with a flash when activated. The 
detonator flared and lit the five-minute 
backup fuse. 

When McVeigh did this, he was only 


PLAYBOY 


a block from the front of the Murrah 
building. The action was irrevocable. 
Even if someone else had known what 
was about to happen, the explosion 
couldn't have been stopped. The fuse 
was burning in a locked truck, buried 
under tons of explosives, and could 
never be extinguished in time. 

McVeigh drove the truck east to 
Fifth and Harvey, at the northwest cor- 
ner of the building. The stoplight was 
red. While he waited for it to change, 
he reached down and pulled a second 
wire, the primary fuse. When the light 
turned green, he drove to the front of 
the Murrah building and parked. 

McVeigh says that as he stopped the 
truck, his eyes met those of a woman 
coming down a set of steps into the 
building. She was white, in her mid- 
30s, with dirty-blonde hair. 

He shut off the engine with the truck 
still in drive and set the parking brake. 
He took the key out of the ignition and 
dropped it behind the seat. Then he 
got out and locked the door behind 
him. McVeigh walked north across 
Fifth Street and through a parking lot 
adjacent to the Journal Record build- 
ing. He believed no one had seen him 
except the woman. He crossed Robin- 
son, walked to an alley behind the 
downtown YMCA, turned north and 
began jogging. 

. 


The conference room at the El Reno 
Federal Correctional Institution, about 
30 miles west of Oklahoma City, in 
which McVeigh and his defense team 
held their discussions was supposed to 
be clean of recording devices (except, 
of course, those used by defense at- 
torneys and investigators). From the 
beginning, McVeigh's lead attorney, 
Stephen Jones, complained that some- 
one was bugging their conversations. 
He said McVeigh would give the de- 
fense information that could be known 
only to the team. Yet, when the defense 
would go to verify this information, 
Jones said, it would discover the FBI 
had left 15 minutes before itsarrival. "I 
think you'll find wiretaps,” Jones told 
me in 1995. “But they may be legal 
wiretaps.” 

The defense team officially com- 
plained to the federal district court in 
Oklahoma City, where the case was be- 
ing handled. Although no public action 
was taken by the court, the incursions 
apparently stopped, and the defense 
continued its interrogations. McVeigh 
told the defense team about significant 
events in his life that led to the bomb- 
ing of the Murrah building. 

° 


McVeigh said his racist ideology was 
formed in 1987 and 1988 when he 


worked for Burke Armored Car in Buf- 
falo, New York. There, his "views of the 
world expanded." Part of McVeigh's 
job was to deliver money to inner-city 
check-cashing establishments. Mc- 
Veigh explained to his defense team. 
that he would drive past a three-block 
line of black people "waiting for their 
welfare checks." McVeigh would push 
his way through the line, gun drawn, to 
deliver the money. 

It was during this time that McVeigh 
"began to sce why this race was given 
derogatory names," reads a document 
prepared by the defense team. "During 
the rest ofthe month he would drive by 
their houses and would see them al- 
ways sitting on their porches waiting 
for their check, hence the name of 
porch monkey.” 

McVeigh fell in with “the survivalist 
crowd." A survivalist, said McVeigh, is 
"someone who is prepared to over* 
come any obstacle that may be thrown 
at them that is not part of daily life, in- 
cluding stockpiling food for disasters 
such as economic, natural or man- 
made. It would also include defense 
buildup of armaments, including guns 
and ammunition, and barter items 
such as toilet paper, food and bullets 
that you put aside in case the dollar 
broke down and was worth nothing." 

McVeigh's interest in survivalism 
and racism led him to The Turner Di- 
aries, a book written in 1978 by William 
Pierce (under the pseudonym Andrew 
MacDonald), an aide to American Nazi 
Party founder George Lincoln Rock- 
well. The book chronicles the fall of the 
U.S. into anarchy and details the over- 
throw of the government by heroic, 
racist revolutionaries. The Turner Di- 
aries’ preachy, alienated characters, 
shrill racism and revolutionary dogma 
struck a chord in McVeigh. “I read it as 
a gun rights book,” he said. He would 
buy the book for $10 and sell it at gun 
shows for half the price, just to dissem- 
inate its message. 

The fictional revolutionaries in the 
book rid the country of Jews, blacks 
and betrayers of the white race. In one 
scene the protagonist, Earl Turner, en- 
counters dead men and women hang- 
ing from lampposts and trees: “There 
are many thousands of hanging female 
corpses like that in this city tonight. . . . 
They are the white women who were 
married to or living with blacks, with 
Jews, or with other nonwhite males.” 

The Turner Diaries has sold more than 
200,000 copies. More significant in 
terms of the Oklahoma City bombing is 
the description of how an ammonium 
nitrate-heating oil bomb was made and 
used to blow up FBI headquarters in 
Washington, D.C.: “My day's work 
started a little before five o'clock yester- 
day, when I began helping Ed Sanders 


mix heating oil with the ammonium 
nitrate fertilizer in Unit 8's garage. . . . 
It took us nearly three hours to do 
all 44 sacks, and the work really wore 
me out." (In fact, photocopies of parts 
of The Turner Diaries were found in Mc- 
Veigh's getaway car.) 

McVeigh started to collect barrels of 
water in his basement to protect him- 
self against unforeseen disaster. He 
took up shooting every day—some- 
times practicing the entire day. He 
saved his money to buy land outside of 
town so he could practice shooting. 

е 


In Мау 1988, at the age of 20, Мс- 
Veigh joined the Army. (See Timothy 
McVeigh, Soldier in the October 1995 
issue of PLAYBOY.) McVeigh said that 
he was disillusioned with the "I am bet- 
ter than you because I have moncy" 
syndrome. 

In the Army, McVeigh met Michael 
Fortier and Terry Nichols. Both men 
were later implicated in the Oklahoma 
bombing plot. Fortier, who had helped 
with the conspiracy, eventually turned 
state's evidence against McVeigh. 

During the Gulf war McVeigh had 
been a leader of men, an ace gunner 
who was awarded a Bronze Star and a 
Combat Infantry Badge. But the war 
was soon over. McVeigh quit the Army 
on December 31, 1991, several months 
after he had washed out of a Special 
Forces training program. The perfect 
soldier had lost his opportunity to be- 
come a Green Beret, and the effect was 
devastating. 

He returned home to New York 
State. From early 1992 to early 1993, 
he worked for Burns International Se- 
curity in Buffalo and lived with his fa- 
ther. His anger, fucled by loneliness 
and by disappointment with his Army 
experience, began to weigh upon him. 
He started to collect weapons and stri- 
dent antigovernment propaganda. 

He told his defense team he experi- 
enced a “heightened sense of aware- 
ness of what the news was really say- 
ing.” When he watched the TV news, 
he got angry at politicians for “mixing 
politics and the military,” angry at the 
government for “strong-arming other 
countries” and angry at the “liberal 
mind-set that all things could be solved 
by discussion.” Politicians did not want 
to face “tough questions or give tough 
answers, nor did they want to make 
tough decisions,” said McVeigh. But 
then the government got tough at Ru- 
by Ridge and at Waco. McVeigh de- 
scribed those incidents as “defining 
events” in his life. 

In late 1992, before moving out of 
his father’s house, McVeigh joined the 
Ku Klux Klan in Harrison, Arkansas. 

(continued on page 158) 


“Er, besides a good blow job, do you have another 
formula for true happmess?” 


ELECTRA MAGNETISM 


a year after we discovered her, the world feels carmen’s irresistible attraction 


HO'STHE hottest TV 

babe of them all? A 

few years ago the 

answer was clear to 
every American male who had 
eyes and a pulse. It was Pam—Miss 
February 1990 Pamela Anderson, 
who made Baywatch (a-k.a. Babe- 
watch) the planet's most-watched 
show. Then along came Jenny Mc- 
Carthy, our Playmate of the Year 
1994. All she did was leap from 
MTV’s dating show Singled Out in- 
to films and onto posters, hit 
records, The Jenny McCarthy Show 
on MTV and her own NBC sit- 
com. Now comes our latest hottest- 
ofall girl: Carmen. After we intro- 
duced Carmen Electra in May 
1996, her career caught fire. Car- 
men, 25, is not only MTV's new 
Singled Out girl, she has also signed 
on as the newest Baywatch star—a 
bustier, brunette, late-Nineties an- 
swer to Pam. What kind of woman 
can fill the shoes of such su- 
perblondes? “Me. I’m ready for 
anything,” Carmen told us when 
we met last year. And while she 
was one of roughly a zillion pret- 
ty girls seeking stardom, we saw 
something special in her. Prince 
felt the same voltage, but the rec- 
ords he made with rapper Carmen 
fizzled. Her г.лувоу gig was a hit, 
however, and now Carmen sizzles. 


Only a year aga Carmen was toiling in a little-naticed nightclub act, singing sangs such as Carmen on Tap, written by her mentar, Prince. 
Then she caught the eye of the man known as Hef. Her PLAYBOY layaut, which she slyly calls “slightly nude,” helped lead ta her new jab 
as hostess af MTV's Singled Out. Carmen made her MTV debut (below) by clawning with Jenny McCorthy and ca-hast Chris Hardwick. 


75 


she was ten. "Even then I was always performing, trying to be sexy," she says. Now she doesn't have to try. Carmen's patented 


26 to succeed in TV? Start with talent and great looks. Carmen, who hails from Cincinnati, was winning beauty pogeonts before 
"booty shake” on Singled Out is spontaneous and sexy. Of course, she plays it straighter on Baywatch, where she's sandy and sexy. 


PHOTOGRAPHY BY ARNY FREYTAG 


E - == — ——— — MB ЭЭ XT 


ue cards held up on the Singled Out set instruct the audience to GO NUTS! Those signs may no 
longer be needed, for Carmen sels off sporks wherever she goes. Is she merely our latest suc- 
cess story, or will Carmen Electra be a star who will outlast Jenny and Pam? Stay tuned. 


80 


the mill has taken a piece 


of half the men in plunkettsburg. 


it's terribly dangerous work. why 


will no one tell me what it is? 


E am 
DA 


N THE FALL of 1948, when I arrived in 
Plunkettsburg to begin the fieldwork I 
hoped would lead to a doctorate in ar- 
Î chaeology, there were still a good 
{ number of townspeople living there 
whose memories stretched back to the 
tire, in the final decade of the previ- 
ous century, when the soot-blackened hills 
that encircle the town fairly swarmed with 
savants and mad diggers. In 1892 the dis- 
covery, on a hilltop overlooking the Miska- 
hannock River, of the burial complex of a 
hitherto-unknown tribe of Mound Builders 
had set off a frenzy of excavation and schol- 
arly poking around that made several ca- 
reers, among them that of the aged hero of 
my profession who was chairman of my dis- 
sertation committee. It was under his re- 
doubtable influence that I had taken up the 
study of the awful, illustrious Miskahan- 
nocks, with their tombs and bone pits, a 
course that led me at last, one gray Novem- 
ber afternoon, to turn my overladen fourth- 
hand Nash off the highway from Pittsburgh 
to Morgantown, and to navigate, tightly grip- 
ping the wheel, the pitted ghost of a roadbed 
that winds up through the Yuggogheny Hills, 
then down into the broad and gloomy valley 
of the Miskahannock. 

As I negotiated that endless series of hair- 
pin and blind curves, I was afforded an 
equally endless series of dispiriting partial 
views of the place where I would spend the 
next ten months of my life. Like many of its 
neighbors in that iron-veined country, Plun- 
kettsburg was at first glance unprepossess- 
ing—a low, rusting little city, with tarnished 


PAINTING BY DAVID HODGES 


PLAYBOY 


82 


onion domes and huddled houses, 
drab asan armful of dead leaves strewn 
along the ground. But as I left the last 
hill behind me and got my first unob- 
structed look, I immediately noted the 
one structure that, while it did nothing 
to elevate my opinion of my new home, 
altered the humdrum aspect of Plun- 
kettsburg sufficiently to make it re- 
markable, and also sinister. It stood off 
to the east of town, in a zone of weeds 
and rust-colored earth, a vast, black 
box, bristling with spiky chimneys, ex- 
tending over some five acres or more, 
dwarfing everything around it. This 
was, I knew at once, the famous Plun- 
kettsburg Mill. Evening was coming 
on, and in the half-light its windows 
winked and flickered with inner fire, 
and its towering stacks vomited smoke 
into the autumn twilight. 1 shuddered, 
and then cried out. So intent had I 
been on the ghastly black apparition of 
the mill that 1 had nearly run my car 
off the road. 

“Here in this mighty fortress of in- 
dustry,” I quoted aloud in the tone of 
a newsreel narrator, reassuring myself 
with the ironic reverberation of my 
voice, “turn the great cogs and thrust 
the relentless pistons that forge the 
pins and trusses of the American 
dream.” I was recalling the words of a 
chamber of commerce brochure I had 
received last week from my hosts, the 
antiquities department of Plunketts- 
burg College, along with particulars of 
my lodging and library privileges. 
They were anxious to have me; it had 
been many years since the publication 
of my chairman's Miskahannock Surveys 
had effectively settled all answerable 
questions—save, I hoped, one—about 
the vanished tribe and consigned Plun- 
kettsburg once again to the mists of 
academic oblivion and the thick black 
effluvia of its satanic mill. 

. 


"So, what is there left to say about 
that pointy-toothed crowd?" said Car- 
lotta Brown-Jenkin, draining her glass 
of brandy. The chancellor of Plunketts- 
burg College and chairwoman of the 
antiquities department had offered to 
stand me to dinner on my first night in 
town. We were sitting in the Hawaiian- 
style dining room of a Chinese restau- 
rant downtown. Brown-Jenkin was 
herself appropriately antique, a gaunt 
old girl in her late 70s, her nearly hair- 
less scalp worn and yellowed, the glint 
of her eyes, deep within their cav- 
ernous sockets, like that of ancient 
coins discovered by torchlight. “I quite 
thought that your distinguished men- 
tor had revealed all their bloody 
mysteries.” 

“Only the women filed their teeth,” 1 
reminded her, taking another swallow 


of Indian Ring beer, the local brew, 
which I found to possess a dark, not 
entirely pleasant savor of autumn 
leaves or damp earth. I gazed around 
the low room with its ersatz palm 
thatching and garlands of wax orchids. 
The only other people in the place 
were a man on wooden crutches with a 
pinned-up trouser leg and a man with 
a wooden hand, both of them drinking 
Indian Ring, and the bartender, an ex- 
tremely fat woman in a thematically 
correct but hideous red muumuu. My 
hostess had assured me, without a 
great deal of enthusiasm, that we were 
about to eat the best-cooked meal 
in town. 

“Yes, yes,” she recalled, smiling tol- 
erantly. Her particular field of study 
was great Carthage, and no doubt, 1 
thought, she looked down on my unlet- 
tered band of savages. “They consid- 
ered pointed teeth to be the essence of 
female beauty.” 

“That is, of course, the theory of my 
distinguished mentor,” I said, studying 
the label on my beer bottle, on which 
there was printed Thelder’s 1894 en- 
graving of the Plunkettsburg Ring, 
which was also reproduced on the cov- 
er of Miskahannock Surveys. 

“You do not concur?” said Brown- 
Jenkin. 

“I think that there may in fact be oth- 
er possibilities.” 

“Such as?” 

At this moment the waiter arrived, 
bearing a way laden with plates of 
unidentifiable meats and vegetables 
that glistened in garish sauces the col- 
ors of women's lipstick. The steaming 
dishes emitted an overpowering blast 
of vinegar, as if to cover some underly- 
ing stench. Feeling ill, I averted my 
eyes from the food and saw that the 
waiter, a thickset, powerful man with 
bland Slavic features, was missing two 
of the fingers on his left hand. My 
stomach revolted. 1 excused myself 
from the table and ran directly to the 
bathroom. 

“Nerves,” I explained to Brown- 
Jenkin when I returned, blushing, to 
the table. “I’m excited about starting 
my research.” 

“OF course,” she said, examining me 
critically. With her napkin she wiped a 
thin red dribble of sauce from her chin. 
“I quite understand.” 

“There seem to be an awful lot of 
missing limbs in this room,” I said, try- 
ing to lighten my mood. “Hope none 
of them ended up in the food.” 

The chancellor stared at me, aghast. 

“A very bad joke,” I said, “My apolo- 
gies. My sense of humor was not, I'm 
afraid, widely admired back in Boston, 
either.” 

“No,” she agreed, with a small, un- 


amused smile. “Well.” She patted the 
long, thin strands of yellow hair atop 
her head. “It’s the mill, of course.” 

“Of course," I said, feeling a bit 
dense for not having puzzled this out. 
myself. "Dangerous work they do 
there, I take it.” 

“The mill has taken a piece of half 
the men in Plunkettsburg,” Brown- 
Jenkin said, sounding almost proud. 
“Yes, it’s terribly dangerous work." 
There had crept into her voice a boost- 
erish tone of admiration that could not 
fail to remind me of the chamber of 
commerce brochure. “Important work.” 

“Vitally important,” I agreed, and 
to placate her I heaped my plate with 
colorful, luminous, indeterminate 
meat, a gesture for which I paid 
dearly through all the long night that 
followed. 


1 took up residence in Murrough 
House, just off the campus of Plun- 
kettsburg College. It was a large, ram- 
bling structure, filled with hidden pas- 
sages, queerly shaped rooms and 
staircases leading nowhere, built by the 
notorious lady magnate, “the Robber 
Baroness,” Philippa Howard Mur- 
rough, founder of the college, noted 
spiritualist and author and dark genius 
of the Plunkettsburg Mill. She had 
spent the last four decades of her life, 
and a considerable part of her manu- 
facturing fortune, adding to, demolish- 
ing and rebuilding her home. On her 
death tbe resultant warren, a chimera 
of brooding Second Empire gables, 
peaked Victorian turrets and baroque 
porticoes with a coat of glossy black ivy, 
passed into the hands of the private 
girls’ college she had endowed, which 
converted it to a faculty dub and lodg- 
ings for visiting scholars. 1 had a round 
turret room on the fourth and upper- 
most floor. There were no other visit- 
ing scholars in the house and, accord- 
ing to the porter, this had been the case 
for several years. 

Old Halicek, the porter, was a bent, 
slow-moving fellow who lived with his 
daughter and grandson in a suite of 
rooms somewhere in the unreachable 
lower regions of the house. He too had 
lost a part of his body to the great mill 
in his youth—his left ear. It had been 
reduced, by a device that Halicek 
called a Dodson line extractor, to a 
small pink ridge nestled in the lee of 
his bushy white sideburns. His daugh- 
ter, Mrs. Eibonas, oversaw a small staff 
of two maids and a waiter and did the 
cooking for the dozen or so faculty 
members who took their lunches at 
Murrough House every day. The wait- 
er was Halicek's grandson, Dexter 

(continued on page 90) 


FASHION BY HOLLIS WAYNE Opposite poge: Back heme 


above the Arctic Circle,” she 
thinks, “we used to eat bays 
like this for breakfast.” 
“Touch her thigh?” he won- 
ders. “No problem!” What 
he's wearing: The cotton 
Poplin suit is by MNW 
Wardrobe ($750) and the 
stretch cotton-blend shirt is a 
V-neck by Katharine Hamnett 
(5135). The ormhole is cut 
high, but there's plenty of 
give. Nicole Forhi did the 
leather belt ($78) and loaf- 
ers ($170). The womor's 
outfit is by Guess. 


"He reminds me of my first boyfriend," she ruminates. "Of course, everybody a 
looks good in Prada.” While he's thinking: “I smell strawberries. And cham- 

pagne. And honey. Mmm." His clothes: The ice-creamy sweater is all cash- 

mere, oll Proda ($370). The stretch linen pants are by Proda also ($360). His 


outfit is an expression of the new minimalism. It's cool, not cold, and has < ae 
a soft edge. Note the comfortable creose to his white pants—they’re pressed 
without being stiff. Her dress is by Konae & Onyx. = а 


PHOTOGRAPHY BY CHUCK BAKER/TEXT BY CHRISTOPHER NAPOLITANO 


START 
WORKING 

DUT. THIS 
SEASON'S 
SLIM FASHIONS 
FIT CLOSE TO 
EMBED 


It's a summer fashion shoot in the. 
dead of winter. Everyone arrives at 
the loft in down jackets, sulky and 
bulky. The photographer turns up 
the heat, breaks out the machine- 
age chairs and tosses fluffy things 
undcrfoot. Winter hits the floor in 
a pile. Summer jumps off the 
hangers—close-fitting clothes in 
soft tones. Among young design- 
ers, the trend is to use tight stretch 
fabrics. It’s a less drapey look than 
the usual casualwear, yet just as re- 
laxed. Models gather. At first, they 
touch one another's clothes tenta- 
tively. Sensual stuff, this. Smiles 
break the ice. There's no fancy 
gender-bending here. Boys will be 
Boys and girls will be flirty. 


Opposite page: “One more button 
and I've got this guy hooked,” 
she’s plotting, while he laments: 
“This never happens in my street 
clothes. I’m throwing out all my 
jeans.” He's wearing a $1500 
Gucci suit, made of wool and mo- 
hair, with a silk French-cuffed 
shirt (also by Gucci, $395). He's 
also gone cosual by wearing a 
form-fitting shirt outside his flot- 
front pants. This page: "Maybe a 
storm will hit," she thinks, "and 
we'll be snowbound." What he's 
thinking: “These pants have a lap 
of luxury. And the headrest, yes.” 
His three-button suit is nylon, 
from Dolce & Gabbona’s D&G line 
($1000). Katharine Hamnett did 
the nylon print shirt ($150). Her 
ouffit is by Kanae & Onyx. 


"is it what he's wearing,” she 
muses, “or is his skin really this 

smooth?” “She doesn’t lave me,” 

he worries. “She's just after my А ١ 
clothes. OK, so use me. All | ask is 
to see her come out of my both- 
room weoring nothing but this 
shirt.” Techie fabrics ore a big reo- 
son the new clingy cuts drape so 
well. The buttondown shirt cousing 
all the fuss is by MNW. It’s made of 
stretch nylon ond costs $115. Logo 
belt buckles ore a must-have. This 
one is by Nicole Farhi ($85). And 
for $275 you can own this pair of 
cotton seersucker pants by 

Eugene Lumpkin. 


WOMEN'S STYLING BY LISA VON WEISE FOR MAREK & ASSOCIATES 
HAIR AND MAKEUP BY GARETH GREEN FOR ZOLI ILLUSIONS, 
WHERE & HOW TO BUY ON PAGE 170, 


What she's thinking: “Caol belt 
buckle. I wander how it works." 
What he's thinking: “I'm in a Saha 
lofi, sitting an o rug, with a beauti- 
ful girl nuzzling me all day. And I'm 
getting paid far it. Sweet.” What 
he's not wearing: rings, bracelets ar 
gald chains. Keep the accessories to 
a minimum for a softer image. A 
belt with a slide buckle (DKNY, $85) 
and a pair af wraparound shades 
{Emporia Armani, $165) are all 
thot's needed to camplement the 
ribbed knit shirt by Calvin Klein 
($295). It’s silk and rayan and has 
a jahnny callar. The poplin khakis 
are also by Calvin Klein ($245). His 
slide sandols оге by DKNY ($155). 


POL A VARTO Y 


90 


BLACK MILL „сне во) 


I was no closer to understanding the terrible work to 
which people sacrificed the bodies of their men. 


Eibonas, an earnest, good-looking, af- 
fable redhead of 17 who was a favorite 
among the college faculty. He was intel- 
ligent, curious, widely if erratically 
read. He vas always pestering me to 
take him out to dig in the mounds, and 
while I would not have been averse to 
his pleasant company, the terms of my 
agreement with the board of the col- 
lege, who were the trustees of the site, 
expressly forbade the recruiting of lo- 
cal workmen. Nevertheless 1 gave him 
books on archaeology and kept him 
abreast of my discoveries, such as they 
were. Several of the Plunkettsburg pro- 
fessors, I learned, had also taken an in- 
terest in the development of his mind. 

“They sent me up to Pittsburgh last 
winter," he told me one evening about 
a month into my sojourn, as he 
brought me a bottle of Ring and a plate 
of Mrs. Eibonas' famous kielbasa with 
sauerkraut. Professor Brown-Jenkin 
had been much mistaken, in my opin- 
ion, about the best-laid table in town. 
During the most tedious, chilly and 
profitless stretches of my scratchings- 
about in the bleak, flinty Yuggoghe- 
nies, I was often sustained solely by 
thoughts of Mrs. Eibonas’ homemade 
sausages and cakes. "I had an interview 
with the dean of engineering at Tech. 
Professor Collier even paid for a hotel 
for Mother and me.” 

"And how did it go?" 

“Oh, it went fine, I guess,” said Dex- 
ter. “I was accepted.” 

“Oh,” I said, confused. The autumn 
semester at Carnegie Tech, I imagined, 
would have been ending that very 
week. 

“Have you—have you deferred your 
admission?” 

“Deferred it indefinitely, I guess. I 
told them no thanks.” Dexter had, in 
an excess of nervous energy, been 
snapping a tea towel back and forth. 
He stopped. His normally bright eyes 
took on a glazed, I would almost have 
said a dreamy, expression. “I’m going 
to work in the mill.” 

“The mill?” 1 said, incredulous. 1 
looked at him to see if he was teasing 
me, but at that moment he seemed to 
be entertaining only the pleasantest 
imaginings of his labors in that fiery 
black castle. I had a sudden vision of 
his pleasant face rendered earless, and 
looked away. “Forgive my asking, but 
why would you want to do that?” 

“My father did it," said Dexter, his 


voice dull. “His father, too. I’m on the 
hiring list.” The light came back into 
his eyes, and he resumed snapping the 
towel. "Soon as a place opens up, I'm. 
going in.” 

He left me and went back into the 
kitchen, and I sat there shuddering. 
I'm going in. The phrase had a heroic, 
doomed ring to it, like the pronounce- 
ment of a fireman about to enter his 
last burning house. Over the course of 
the previous month I'd had ample op- 
portunity to observe the mill and its ef- 
fect on the male population of Plun- 
kettsburg. Casual observation, in local 
markets and bars, in the lobby of the 
Orpheum on State Street, on the side- 
walks, in Birch’s general store out on 
Gray Road where I stopped for coffee 
and cigarettes every morning on my 
way up to the mound complex, had led 
me to estimate that in truth, fully half 
of the townsmen had lost some visible 
portion of their anatomies to Mur- 
rough Manufacturing, Inc. And yet all 
my attempts to ascertain how these 
often horribly grave accidents had be- 
fallen their bent, maimed or limping 
victims were met, invariably, with an 
explanation at once so detailed and so 
vague, so rich in mechanical jargon 
and yet so free of actual information, 
that I had never yet succeeded in pro- 
ducing in my mind an adequate pic- 
ture of the incident in question, or, for 
that matter, of what kind of deadly la- 
bor was performed in the black mill. 

What, precisely, was manufactured 
in that bastion of industrial democracy 
and fount of the Murrough millions? I 
heard the trains come sighing and 
moaning into town in the middle of the 
night, clanging as they were shunted 
into the mill sidings. I saw the black 
diesel trucks, emblazoned with the 
crimson initial M, lumbering through 
the streets of Plunkettsburg on their 
way to and from the loading docks. I 
had two dozen conversations, over 
endless mugs of Indian Ring, about 
shift schedules and union activities (in- 
variably quashed) and company pic- 
nics, about ore and furnaces, metallur- 
gy and turbines. I heard the resigned, 
good-natured explanations of men 
sliced open by Rawlings divagators, 
ground up by spline presses, mangled 
by steam sorters, half-decapitated by 
rolling Hurley plates. And yet after 
four months in Plunkettsburg I was no 
closer to understanding the terrible 


work to which the people of that town. 
sacrificed, with such apparent good- 
will, the bodies of their men. 


I took to haunting the precincts of 
the mill in the early morning as the six 
o'clock shift was coming on and late at 
night as the graveyard men streamed 
through the iron gates, carrying their 
black lunch pails. The fence, an elabo- 
rate Victorian confection of wickedly 
tipped, thick iron pikes trailed with 
iron ivy, enclosed the mill yard at such 
a distance from the mountainous facto- 
ry itself that it was impossible for me to 
get near enough to see anything but 
the glow of huge fires through the be- 
grimed mesh windows, I applied at the 
company offices in town for admission, 
as a visitor, to the plant but was told by 
the receptionist, rather rudely, that the 
Plunkettsburg Mill was not a tourist fa- 
cility. My fascination with the place 
grew so intense and distracting that I 
neglected my work; my wanderings 
through the abandoned purlieus of the 
savage Miskahannocks grew desultory 
and ruminative, my discoveries of arti- 
facts, never frequent, dwindled to al- 
most nothing, and I made fewer and 
fewer entries in my journal. Finally, 
one exhausted morning, after an en- 
tire night spent lying in my bed at Mur- 
rough House staring out the leaded 
window at a sky that was bright orange 
with the reflected fire of the mill, I de- 
cided 1 had had enough. 

I dressed quickly, in plain tan trou- 
sers and a flannel work shirt. I went 
down to the closet in the front hall, 
where I found a drab old woolen coat 
and a watch cap that I pulled down 
over my head. Then I stepped outside. 
"The terrible orange flashes had sub- 
sided and the sky was filled with stars. 1 
hurried across town to the east side, to 
Stan's Diner on Mill Street, where I 
knew I would find the day shift wolf- 
ing down ham and eggs and pancakes. 
I slipped between two large men at 
the long counter and ordered coffee. 
When one of my neighbors got up to 
go to the toilet, ] grabbed his lunch 
pail, threw down a handful of coins 
and hurried over to the gates of the 
mill, where I joined the crowd of men. 
They looked at me oddly, not recogniz- 
ing me, and I could see them murmur- 
ing to one another in puzzlement. But 
the earliness of the morning or an in- 
herent reserve kept them from saying 
anything. They figured, I suppose, that 
whoever I was, I was somebody else’s 
problem. Only one man, tall, with thin- 
ning yellow hair, kept his gaze on me 
for more than a moment. His eyes, I 
was surprised to see, looked very sad. 

(continued on page 162) 


“I now pronounce you man and wife—you may make your move.” 


91 


92 


ори ау 


haunted by the mere idea of sexual dysfunction? 
medical science has some great news 


for you and your penis 


13) IRWIN GOLDSTEIN is testing the future, and it's one 


hell of an improvement. For more than two decades, Dr. Goldstein, a professor of urology at Boston Universi- 
ty School of Medicine, has been one of a small group of internationally recognized medical pioneers research- 
ing that shadowy male nightmare, impotence. Within days of the celebrated 1983 American Urological Associ- 
ation meeting at which G.S. Brindley, an audacious British researcher, dropped his pants for a personal 
demonstration of his penis injection therapy, Goldstein had his own patients using the needle. The technique is 
now the most widely employed in impotence treatment. Over the years, Goldstein has applied virtually every 
worthwhile remedy in recent medical history —including permanently erect and pump-operated implants, vac- 
uum tubes, surgical bypasses to improve blood flow to the noble organ, and those erection-stimulating injec- 
tions. But what he's now testing on a grateful collection of New Englander volunteers is the incandescent dream 
of millions of men who wilt as romance blooms. 

A pill. A simple, portable, familiar, aspirin-like answer to a wretched problem. Though hundreds of thou- 
sands of men have satisfactorily regained their sex life with existing therapies, those techniques have their draw- 
backs. For many, if not most, beleaguered men, a pill could mean avoiding the permanent commitment of 


article By Michael Parrish 


ILLUSTRATION BY DAVIO WILCOX 


PLAYBOY 


94 


implant surgery; the sometimes dubi- 
ous pleasure and wobbly erections 
caused by pumping oneself up with a 
vacuum tube; and the logistics and oc- 
casional pain of the needle—which can 
involve fumbling in the bathroom, try- 
ing to inject the right amount of medi- 
cine into the right place in one's penis. 

Instead, a man who would otherwise 
be unable ro perform in the grand love 
dance could unobtrusively swallow a 
small pill with a gulp of champagne, 
throw another log on the fire and in as 
little as 20 minutes be as hard as a cu- 
cumber—despite physical problems, 
psychological problems or almost any 
other problems. 

“We're in the midst of an exciting 
revolution," says Goldstein enthusiasti- 
cally, “a new area of sexual medicine 
called sexual pharmacology." 

What Goldstein means is a drugstore 
for the penis. Erections are produced 
with drugs that are delivered to one’s 
member, or to the controlling brain, in 
simple ways—pills, tiny pellets, per- 
haps creams, or through an occasional 
shot, like a flu vaccination. “Each week 
there’s a new, innovative mechanism 
and a new delivery system,” Goldstein 
says. Most of these near-miraculous 
drug therapies are in various stages of 
testing, but some could be approved by 
the Food and Drug Administration 
within the next year. Farthest down the 
toad is the prospect of the simplest 
technique so far envisioned: the shot, a 
gene-therapy injection every three to 
six months that would keep a man’s 
system primed. 

But for the immediate future, the 
pill is the best and brightest hope for 
many men faced with impotence. Terry 
Payton is the urological nurse clinician 
in Goldstein’s office. Since the Seven- 
ties Payton's role has been to provide 
tech support to thousands of Gold- 
stein's patients—using therapies both 
approved and still in testing. “Stand 
by,” says Payton, raising both eyebrows. 
“The pill is going to change every- 
thing. Everything.” 

e 


Most men do not know the most im- 
portant and heartwarming facts about 
male impotence, which is less prejudi- 
cially described these days as erectile 
dysfunction. 

First, a lot—a whole lot—of men ex- 
perience it sooner or later, and usually 

long before they ve lost their intellectu- 
al fascination with lust. According to 
the National Institutes of Health, as 
many as 20 million American men reg- 
ularly have so much trouble getting a 
workmanlike erection that they can’t 
have intercourse. Other sources esti- 
mate that 140 million men worldwide 
are affected, Even a sex-crazed teenag- 


er can be impotent in the clutch, but as 
men age, the numbers turn grimmer. 
The most detailed survey so far—the 
Massachusetts Male Aging Study—found 
that among men 40 to 70 years old, 
more than half had a problem getting 
and staying hard. 

Second, despite the mythology, while 
psychological factors can often be part 
of the predicament, most men are im- 
potent primarily because they have a 
physical problem with their plumbing. 
This is not a disease of unmanly mental 
hang-ups or problems getting over 
separation from your mother; it's one 
of plumbing—bad arteries and veins, 
for the most part. Masters and Johnson 
were dead wrong (as William Masters 
later gamely admitted) when they an- 
nounced in the Sixties that more than 
90 percent of male impotence is psy- 
chologically based. Today, the Impo- 
tence Institute of America estimates 
that impotence has a physical cause in 
85 percent of sufferers. 

Third, even before the new genera- 
tion of drugs arrives, these physical 
problems can usually be remedied one 
way or another. And insurance compa- 
nies now cover some of the bills. 

С 


The first real treatment—and likely 
to remain the treatment of last resort— 
was the implant. Semirigid implants, 
as their name describes, are two bend- 
able rods that will get a man into a 
vagina but can sometimes be hard to 
hide under a business suit. Inflatable, 
hydraulic implants, refined over more 
than 20 years of use, give a depend- 
able, solid erection come hell or high 
water and with a minimum of fuss— 
discreet squeezes of a pump mecha- 
nism hidden in the scrotum take a man 
up or down. Each year about 20,000 
American men opt for some sort of im- 
plant, costing from $10,000 to $15,000, 
according to the Harvard Health Letter. 
The AUA recently estimated that the 
patient satisfaction rate for the more 
advanced hydraulic implants ranged 
from 83 percent to almost 96 percent, 
depending on the type of device. 

Less formal, off-the-record conversa- 
tions with several women involved with 
implanted men showed that they too 
were pretty damned satisfied with im- 
plants. Predictability and longevity— 
because the penis stays hard after ejac- 
ulation—were big factors for women. 
One claimed that she had not yet given 
in to her recurring fantasy to inflate 
her boyfriend as he slecps, for a mid- 
night ride. 

The downside is certainly worth 
pondering, however. Implant surgery 
changes the penis permanently. Tissue 
is damaged when the implant is put in 
place, diminishing the ability to achieve 


an erection naturally. The implants can 
become infected, the machinery can 
break down, some men end up with 
shorter or far different erections than 
they're accustomed to and the recovery 
from surgery is by all accounts agoniz- 
ing—what Goldstein calls the “mad 
month.” After recovery, a few men al- 
so become what some researchers call 
“timid pumpers"—men too squea- 
mish to properly rock and roll with the 
device. 

Surprisingly, another widely used 
mechanical solution—involving no sur- 
gery—is the medical version of those 
plastic vacuum tubes alleged to enlarge 
the penis. In fact, a vacuum pulls blood 
into any bodily appendage. “If you put 
your earlobe in a negative atmo- 
sphere,” notes Goldstein, “you draw 
blood into it.” The AUA reports that 
three quarters of the men who start us- 
ing vacuum devices are happy enough 
to keep using them, and that in one 
study, 84 percent of the men—and al- 
most 90 percent of their partners—said 
they were satisfied with the technique. 
Comfortably married couples seem to 
like these best, and one manufacturer 
alone recently reported having sold 
more than 300,000 vacuum devices at 
$400 a pop. 

Drawbacks include having to haul 
the machine around, the interruption 
in foreplay while the man pumps up 
and the need to have skilled, personal 
instruction to make it function correct- 
ly. Erections last about a half hour and 
require a tension ring around the base 
of the penis in order to hold the blood 
in place. This often makes for an erec- 
tion that's wobbly at the base, since no 
blood is stored on the other side of 
the ring. 

Other current therapies rely on an 
irony of the penis: It must relax in or- 
der to get hard. In ordinary circum- 
stances, as a man becomes focused on 
the object of his affection, his brain tells 
nerves to release substances that relax 
spongy tissue in two long tunnels run- 
ning the length of the penis. Blood 
pumps in, the penis swells and this 
swelling pinches off the normal exit 
veins—trapping the blood and main- 
taining an erection until ejaculation. If 
the nerves don't get the message, or if 
blocked or crushed arteries don't let 
enough blood in, or if damaged veins 
let the blood leak out too soon, noth- 
ing, or not much, happens, and the 
spongy-tissue cells stay constricted like 
tiny sphincters. 

е 


But it has long been known that 
smooth-muscle tissue—common in oth- 
er parts of the body as well as in 
the spongy tunnels of the penis—can 

(continued on page 96) 


PEAY BONSAI Ein, 


Talk about the girl next door. In May 1988, glamour pho- portfolio, aptly titled Helmuts Angels. This shot stars а 
tographer Helmut Newton enhanced his kinky image by Kawasaki 600 Ninja—a light but powerful bike with a top 
juxtaposing naked women with the naked power of high- speed of 141 miles per hour and an 85-horsepower engine— 
performance motorcycles. The result? An offbeat, erotic and an outgoing neighbor who is obviously impressed. 


PLAYBOY 


96 


UP, UP & AWAY continued from page 94) 


Even without upping his dosage, he regularly en- 
joys three-hour erections from a shot. 


be relaxed by direct contact with cer- 
tain drugs. What the brave Brind- 
ley demonstrated on himself—and al- 
lowed urologists in the front rows of 
the auditorium to examine by hand, to 
be sure he wasn't hiding an implant— 
was the injection of a drug directly into 
the smooth-muscle cells in the tunnels 
of the penis. By 1995, Caverject (Phar- 
macia & Upjohn Co.'s brand name for 
a synthetic prostaglandin called al- 
prostadil) had become the first drug 
approved by the FDA for treating 
impotence. 

Alprostadil is also the active drug in 
the tiny pellets called the Medicat- 
ed Urethral System for Erection, or 
MUSE, for which Vivus Pharmaceuti- 
cals (based in Menlo Park, California) 
received FDA approval early in 1997. 
The product, which resembles a rabbit 
food pellet, is released a little over an 
inch up the man's urethral tube using a 
simple disposable plastic plunger. The 
pellets come in four dosage levels and 
deliver 80 percent of the goods to the 
smooth muscles within ten minutes. 
The erections can last up to an hour, 
depending on the dose. Vivus recom- 
mends using its product no more than 
twice every 24 hours, which may ap- 
peal to men for financial reasons. 
“These erections are expected to cost 
$19 to $24 each, depending on the 
dosage. 

It’s a little early to tell how popular 
this system will be among the erection- 
challenged. In a clinical study, Vivus 
found thatas many as 96 percent of the 
men thought MUSE was easy to use— 
not a description that would come to 
mind for most men using injections. 
And in a three-month home trial of 
MUSE, testing almost 1000 couples, 65 
percent of the men had erections, com- 
pared with 19 percent using the tech- 
nique but receiving only a placebo. 
About 11 percent of the men experi- 
enced the most common side effect— 
described by Vivus as “transient penile 
pain"—and the discomfort was enough 
that about one percent of the men 
stopped using the technique during 
the tests. 

As for injection therapy, there are 
other drugs still not formally approved 
but commonly prescribed by knowl- 
edgeable doctors. These include two 
other smooth-muscle relaxers: phen- 
tolamine and papaverine. Increasingly, 
such drugs are being used in combina- 


tion with alprostadil. Among the differ- 
ences is cost. Caverject is as much as 
$25 a hard-on, while the two other 
drugs cost about $3 a shot. 

The most widely mentioned side ef- 
fect of injections is occasional pain in 
the penis, though care must also be 
taken to avoid infection and to be on 
guard for a prolonged erection, which 
can cause permanent damage. Some 
studies also suggest that the injections 
can become less effective over time. De- 
spite all this, something of a subculture 
of narco-studs has developed—featur- 
ing incredible tales of movie-celebrity 
swordsmen and septuagenarian party 
animals. 

A recent article in the online maga- 
zine Slate includes a cartoon illustration 
of three older gents presumably dis- 
cussing their latest sexual conquests 
over tea at the “Penile Injection Club” 
as part of a cautionary tale about mess- 
ing with mother nature as we age. In 
fact, Slate reports, hundreds of thou- 
sands of American men of all ages now 
regularly inject themselves, taking ad- 
vantage of the most widely prescribed 
impotence therapy today. According to 
the Harvard Health Letter, injections just 
plain work 94 percent of the time in 
impotent men, regardless of their 
problems. And patients report that in- 
Jections work their wonders in 15 min- 
utes or less. 

"Who wants to give himself a shot 
there?" admits Frank, a former bus 
driver who has had trouble getting 
erections since he was a teenager. But 
after the pinprick of pain there are 
compelling advantages. 

“It's been a blessing for me,” Frank 
says, laughing. “I’m 51. Ill take any- 
thing I can get.” After he started the in- 
jections (and before he and his long- 
suffering wife split up), his wife became 
extra excited when they were going to 
have sex, because she knew that it 
would be a prolonged event. Though 
doctors try to titrate dosages that will 
give their patients a one-hour erection, 
men commonly jack a bit more medi- 
cine into their syringes. Frank says that 
even without upping his dosage, he 
regularly enjoys three-hour erections 
from a shot. (If erections last four 
hours, men are advised to get to an 
emergency room for a counteracting 
injection of phenylephrine, before 
damage ensues.) And since he’s begun 
seeing other women, Frank has yet to 


meet one who has been turned off by 
his sexual preparations, he says, partic- 
ularly when they hear of the extended 
forecast. 

Meanwhile, Frank's estranged wife 
has spread the word among his friends’ 
ives that they too can experience a 

ly improved sex life. But his pals 
with erection problems don't like the 
idea of a needle either. And Frank him- 
self has been testing one of the new 
pills, which he finds a significant im- 
provement over injection. 

“There are a million people like us 
out there, and just a few have the will 
to go through with that,” says Frank. 
Referring to his friends, he adds, 
“They're all waiting to see how the pill 
makes out. And then they're going to 
come in.” 


Dr. Leroy Nyberg is director of urol- 
ogy programs at the NIH. If there is a 
federal impotence czar, Dr. Nyberg is 
he. According to Nyberg, the pill and 
earlier advances in impotence treat- 
ment are largely the results of efforts 
made by the medical-appliance and 
pharmaceutical industries, which stud- 
ied first the early implant devices and 
then the dashing Brindley's injection 
erection and said, “*Hey, this is some- 
thing we can work оп.” 

Research into the causes of impo- 
tence, notes Nyberg, is still carried on 
by academic researchers. The health- 
products companies, he says, “just look 
at how we can treat impotence. So they 
didn't help us understand what causes 
it—but they made rapid progress in 
the way it can be treated.” 

The lure is a potential market of 
colossal dimension. As impotent men 
have lately emerged blinking from the 
closet and learned that they don’t have 
to feel guilty about their plight, they 
have begun to spend money on reme- 
dial measures. Business Week estimates 
that in 1995, men in the U.S. spent 
around $665 million on therapies for 
erectile dysfunction. And that is a drop 
in the ocean compared with the antici- 
pated demand among well-heeled ag- 
ing baby boomers seeking a convenient 
magic potion to bring back that hunka 
hunka burnin’ love. 

‘Typically, a new drug takes about 15 
years and $400 million to be brought to 
market. So researchers at Pfizer Inc.’s 
labs in Sandwich, England were in- 
trigued when a drug they were testing 
to combat angina—heart pain from in- 
adequate blood flow—failed at that 
task but turned out to improve blood 
flow to the penis instead. Subjects kept 
reporting that, screw their hearts, they 
had started having all these marvelous 

(continued on page 152) 


"God, Roger, you're so masterful! Promise you won't 
rush me into anything.” 


ARRIE 
[| 


miss june's fairy tale is 
anything but typical 


IKESEVERAL other Playmates you've 
seen, Miss June is a promising 
young actress. But that’s the only 
typical thing about Carrie Stevens, 
who has gone from Graceland to 
Hollywood—and from tragedy to tri- 
umph—while growing from bubbly 
teen to independent woman. "My story 
isa strange fairy tale. It started when I 
was a groupie,” she says. In fact, Car- 
rie’s tale starts even earlier. She was 
born in Buffalo, where her father was a 
research scientist, and is a living re- 
minder of his spectrophotometer. Its 
brand name: Carrie. “I was named af- 
ter lab equipment,” she says. Miss June 
combines her dad’s logic with the artis- 
tic spirit of her mother, a painter, 
whom she followed to Memphis when 
her parents divorced. Teenager Carrie 
took countless tours of Graceland, 
dreaming of Elvis, wishing she were 
Priscilla Presley. Next came a real-life 
rock-and-roll dream. In 1987 she met 
Eric Carr, drummer for Kiss, She was 
18, he was 37. For the next four years 
Carr was both a father figure and 
a lover to Carrie. “We lived it up, lov- 
ing every minute together,” she says. 
“Then Eric got sick.” He died of a rare 
form of cancer in 1991, and Carrie 
mourned for years. She’s finally put 
her life back together and now, at 28, 
says, “I’m ready to be happy again 


Miss June is a familiar figure on the Los An- 
geles stage, where she is both an actress 
and a producer (top right). Privately, she 
seeks substance, not glitz. “I did the rack 
lifestyle,” she says. “Now I'd rather be with 
a starving poet than a wealthy rock star.” 


PHOTOGRAPHY BY ARNY FREYTAG 


Excited again. Maybe even in love. 
Miss June has some highly unusual 
beliefs. Rebirthing, for one. More a 
style of deep meditation than reincar- 
nation, rebirthing is Carrie's way of ex- 
pressing her spirituality. "There is a 
wholeness to life. [ nursed Eric and 
sort of helped him out of this world, 
just as he had helped me grow up in 
the world. Now I think it's time to take 
the next step," she says. After being 
spotted in a dentist's waiting room by a 
Hollywood talent agent, Carrie landed 
roles on the soap opera Days of Our 
Lives as well as on TV's Weird Science 


and Pauly, with Pauly Shore. Small 
parts in films led to her lead role in 
Jane Street, a Playboy TV movie. She 
also drew raves onstage in the play 


Autumn Romance. Critics called her 
"gorgeous," even “succulent.” One re- 
viewer pleased her more by writing. 
"Carrie Stevens sweetly dispatches 
truth and wisdom." But it wasn't C 

rie's acting that led her to us. It was her 
weird science. "I was in my rebirthing 
class when the thought hit me. Could I 
be in PLAYBOY?” It was an outré concept 
for a woman whose idea of foreplay is 
reading Shakespeare in bed. “But 1 
tried out, and here I am, Miss June. 


T 


M 


This is new to me.” We couldn't 
imagine a better rebirth. 

Until her meditation session, 
Carrie never dreamed of posing 
for us. Now she's thankful she 


waited so long. “I’m glad I'm do- 


ing this now instead of when I 
was 18. What would I have said 
then? *Hi, I'm Carrie and I like 
rock stars!" And just as she was 
no typical groupie when she was 
18, Miss June isn't only a good- 
looking actress today. A survivor. 
who always seeks "the things that 
truly matter, beauty and integri- 
ty,” she has become the director 
of her own fairy tale. 


Corrie's pet peeve? "Men who dart 
their tangues inta yaur mouth— 
I hate lizard kissers!” Something 
slower and more romantic is in or- 
der for a woman of her persuasions. 


PLAYMATE DATA SHEET 


; 2 


NAMES S д 
BUST: SIA waists A msn o 
ниси ui, nam ZZ 
BIRTH uror BIRTHPLACE: 


sf 


"Y wan Le Дад, a Loft alc, a Ваал mind, йш _ 
20004. taa ала bene a суша لی‎ 
BEST WAY TO MAKE UP: Ladas Ж ла an. the heed of a Cade. 


PLAYBOY'S PARTY JOKES 


The young executive was working late one 
evening. As he stepped out of his office to get 
some coffee he saw the boss standing by the of- 
fice shredder, a piece of paper in his hand. "Do 
you know how to work this thing?" the older 
man asked. "My secretary's gone home and I 
don't know how to run it." 

“Yes, sir,” the eager underling replied. He 
turned on the machine, took the paper from 
the other man and fed it in. 

“Oh, thanks,” his boss said. “One copy will 
be fine.” 


Alter a long sequence of lovemaking, the doc- 
tor glanced adoringly at his ladylove, who 
dozed next to him. Suddenly, he felt a sharp 
pang of guilt. “Relax, Howard,” he told him- 
self. “You're not the first doctor to sleep with 
one of his patients.” 

“No,” another inner voice scolded, “but, 
you're a veterinarian!” 


COMPUTER virus OF THE MONTH: The PBS. 
Your programs stop every few minutes to ask 
for money. 


A 60-year-old man walked into a drugstore 
and asked the girl at the checkout, “Do you 
have condoms here?” 

“Sure. What size are you?” 

“Tm not really sure.” 

“Well, just let me check,” she said, walking 
around the counter. She unzipped his pants, 
took a feel and then picked up the micro- 
phone. “Extra-large condoms to the checkout. 
Extra-large condoms to the checkout." A stock- 
boy brought the condoms and the man paid 
and left. 

A while later, a 30-year-old man walked up 
to the checkout. “Do you sell condoms here?" 
he asked. 

"Sure, but what size do you need?” 

“Well, I don't know." 

“Well, just let me check." She unzipped his 
pants, took a couple of tugs and then picked 
up the microphone, "Large condoms to the 
checkout. Large condoms to the checkout." 
The stockboy brought the condoms, the man 
paid and left. 

Later, a 16-year-old came into the store. 
"Um, ah, do you guys sell condoms here?" he 
asked the girl at the checkout. 

"Yep," she said, "what size do you need?" 

“I don't know,” he replied. 

She unzipped his zipper for a feel and then 
picked up the microphone. "Cleanup at the 
checkout, please. Cleanup at the checkout." 


Puaysoy cassic: As the six-year-old passed 
his parents' bedroom he heard a lot of moan- 
ing, groaning and thumping coming from 
within. Taking a peek, the boy caught his mom 
and dad in the act. But before his father could 
even react, the boy cried out, “Oh boy, horsey 
ride! Daddy, can I have a ride?" 

Relieved that he would get out of a lengthy 
explanation, dad eagerly agreed and let his 
son hop on while in midstroke. Before long, 
the tempo picked up and soon mom resumed 
moaning and gasping. "Hang on tight, Dad- 
dy,” the boy cried out. “This is the part when 
me and the paperboy usually get bucked off." 


What's the difference between Michael Jack- 
son and a supermarket bag? One is made of 
plastic and is dangerous to children; the other 
is used for carrying groceries. 


A young lady on vacation headed for the deck 
of the hotel's roof for some sun. Since no one 
was around, she slipped off her bathing suit to 
get an overall tan. Lying on her stomach, near- 
ly asleep, she heard someone running up the 
stairs and quickly grabbed a towel. 

“Excuse me, miss,” the flustered hotel man- 
ager panted. “The hotel doesn't mind you sun- 
ning on the roof, but we would very much ap- 
preciate you wearing your bathing suit.” 

“What difference does it make? No one can 
see me up here.” 

“Not quite true,” said the embarrassed man. 
“You're lying on the dining room skylight." 


4) 
ч? ү 
My a 


Tus MONTH'S MOST FREQUENT SUBMISSION: 
How do you know if a guy has a high sperm 
count? His girlfriend has to chew before 
swallowing. 


The ailing business magnate announced the 
completion of his will. His young wife would 
be well provided for, but the family home 
would revert to his four children in the event 
she remarried. “I don't want another S.O.B. 
warming his hands around my fireplace." 

“And,” his wife mutiered, “what makes you 
think Га marry another S.O.B.?" 


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


“That's the Marquis de Sade, but not to worry—he's just 
here on a book-signing tour.” 


n 


FR 


ARTICLE 


By A.J. BENZA 


THE 
PERILS OF 
ADULTERY 


WHEN IT COMES TO 
MATTERS OF THE TWO-TIMING 
HEART, IT'S BEST TO KNOW 
HOW NOT TO GET CAUGHT 


ighty percent of all married men cheat on their 
wives in this country. The other 20 percent cheat 
in Europe. Ba-da-bum 
Girls, if you happen to be reading this, I wish I 
were kidding. I wish I were a stand-up comic and 
that that statement were my show-closing line. The one 
that sends you out the door ina fit of laughter and has you 
asking your husband a half hour later at home, "That's not 
really true, what that comic said about all men cheating on 
their wives, is it, honey?" And your husband, after clearing 
his throat to assemble a coherent thought, coughs back, 
"Hell no, baby. That guy's exaggerating. You know I would 
never hurt you like that. Now, move over an inch or so. I 
think you're lying on the remote." 

If you'd like to close out the last leg of the 20th century 
believing that monogamy is a sacred and sanctified way of 
life in your house, go right ahead. I believe the messages in 
fortune cookies, so who am I to judge? But I would be will- 
ing to bet on a stack of Masters and Johnson sex manuals 
that there have been times when you've wondered, when 
you've felt your safe little world rock and tremble from the 
tips of your toes to the highest hair on your head. Those 
times when Kevin let the pot roast go cold or Jimmy's po- 
ker game went long again or Johnny's Acura died on the 
highway six miles from the nearest pay phone or Frankie 
came home smelling like Chanel No. 5. They're all good 
men. They tuck their children into bed and never forget 
your birthday and have no philandering in their pasts 
So why would you ever think that they have cheating on 
their minds? 

T'I tell you why. Because we're men, plain and simple. 
Мете a different animal. And as (continued оп page 118) 


PAINTING BY RAFAL OLBINSKI 


113 


DADS & GRADS 


DADS: clockwise from top left: Sony's compact SC55 Hi-8 cam- 
corder with a three-inch LCD screen and a 40x digital zoom (about 
$1800). Pierre Croizet award-winning Extra Extra cognac in a de- 
canter ($225). Elsa Peretti-designed thumbprint snifter from Tif- 
fany & Co. ($25). Nava Milano Design Group's Italian leather 
portfolio from Luminaire ($345). Panasonic's KX-F900 fax ma- 
chine and 900-MHz cordless phone ($400). The Power Circle tita- 
nium driver by Square Two Golf is available in a right-hand-only 
model with a ten-degree loft and a 55-degree lie (5250). Hamil- 
ton's dual-time-zone American Traveler wristwatch ($375). Gior- 
gio Armani silk tie from Saks Fifth Avenue (about $85). Lunettes 
Cartier’s Giverny model sunglasses have a platinum frame ac- 
«ented with bubinga-wood temple pieces ($1250). Chrome after- 
shave splash by Azzaro combines the scents of spicy citrus fruits with 
musky notes ($35). Sony's MZ-R30 portable minidisc recorder and 
player delivers 15 hours of playback with a lithium-ion battery 
and two AA batteries and has editing capabilities (about $600). 


THE PERFECT GIFTS 
FOR POMP 
AND POP 


А 

N 

7 
L 
: 


SWISS AR ME 


GRADS: clockwise from top left: Steiner 8x30 Firebird T binoculars with a brushed titanium fin- 
ish and UV-T lens coating (about $300). Housed in the Bag of Tunes sack is a removable sound sys- 
tem (about $350, not including installation) that includes a cassette, receiver and speakers. It fits on 
the handlebars of most motorcycles. Eau de Toilette Natural Spray by Swiss Army Brand Parfum 
(about $50). Cuvée Dom Pérignon Vintage 1990 (about $90) stands next to two crystal champagne 
flutes by littala of Finland ($35 for the pair). Silk cigar-motif tie by Lee Allison ($75). Airspeed Tita- 
nium Chronograph with a matching band, by Revue Thommen ($1250). RCA's PROV 950-HB Hi-8 
camcorder with a four-inch liquid crystal display screen (about $1400). Python-style pewter-framed 
sunglasses by Revo ($275). Compaq's PC companion allows you to access, exchange and organ- 
ize information with Windows-based computers ($500 to $650, depending on configuration). 


WHERE & HOWTO BUY ON PAGE 170. 


PLAYBOY 


118 


ADULTERY „ләре 


Tell her I'm exaggerating. ГІЇ cover for you. I do it 
for my married friends all the time. 


far as fidelity goes, the genders are 
worlds apart. Even when our heart be- 
longs to you, our mind wanders over to 
her, even if our bodies don't. Can I be 
frank? It's a dick thing. And sometimes 
there's no explanation other than what 
a famous comedian once told me: You 
show me the most beautiful girl in the 
world, and ГЇЇ show you a guy who's 
tired of fucking her. 

. 


For many men, the science of cheat- 
ing—or the pursuit of illicit pleasure— 
isan endeavor thar ends only when life 
ends. How many other things do we 
take to the grave? Or more accurately, 
how many other things do we hone, 
shape, form and practice with as much 
pleasure and painstaking precision as 
infidelity, or at least thoughts pertain- 
ing to it? 

1 know men from every rung of the 
economic ladder, men who have made 
their fortunes in all fields, and I know 
for certain that nothing brings them 
closer than talking about pulling off 
the perfect affair. 

I carefully set up a roundtable din- 
ner of men who have lived their other 
lives as wolves, rogues and rakes. And 1 
quickly discovered the most common 
passion among them is correcting the 
current rumor that too many of “us” 
are getting caught. 

There's sound reason for concern: 
Men have been getting sloppier (Joey 
Buttafuoco), more brazen (Gary Hart), 
more famous (Bill Clinton), more care- 
less (Hugh Grant) or doing it too close 
to home (Robin Williams). “When you 
get caught cheating, it isn’t an end to 
cheating,” one of my dining compan- 
ions said. "It's just an end to the partic- 
ular way you were cheating.” 

Here are some of the rules of the 
road. Commit most of them to memory 
and keep them in a safe spot. If your 
wife finds them and asks, “That's not 
really true, what that author says about 
all men cheating on their wives, is it, 
honey,” clear your throat and tell her 
I'm exaggerating. It’s all right, I'll cov- 
er for you. I do it for my married 
friends all the time. 


The computer age is killing us. 
There was a time when beepers, car 
phones, faxes and voice mail were the 
perfect ways to keep in touch with 
your girlfriend. Not anymore. Get rid 


of them all. 

Beepers, and the numbers they dis- 
play, leave a wonderful paper trail for 
your wife to follow. A car phone is es- 
pecially horrible the first time you for- 
get to turn it off and it rings when your 
wife is with you. What do you do? If 
your wife answers it and it’s her, you're 
dead. If you let it ring, your wife knows 
you have something to hide. So better 
than remembering to turn it off, just 
throw it out. Our grandfathers cheated 
all the time. You know how they did 
it? They carried a dime in their pock- 
et and went to a pay phone. Phone 
booths, particularly the four-sided glass 
booths, are our friends. Use them. 

And whatever you do, don't mess up 
your home phone with caller ID or any 
of that other mumbo jumbo. All it adds 
up to is your wife's first big collar. She'll 
feel like Nancy Drew for the rest of her 
life when you say you're calling from 
work and the number flashing on the 
caller ID box is definitely not your 
work number. “That's funny, honey, 
the phone says you're at 555-5272. 
When did your work number change?” 
Don't say I didn’t warn you. 

Even your office can prove disas- 
trous, especially if you’ve got a secre- 
tary who has a crush on you or, as is of- 
ten the case, is friendly with your wife. 
Lipstick kisses faxed to you anony- 
mously during the workday generally 
give you up as a cheater. So do too 
many suspicious personal calls from a 
sultry-voiced female. Or unexplained 
afternoon absences. 

Even e-mail has its downside. It's 
easy to direct a steamy missive to the 
wrong address in the office. Leaving 
messages on your computer is risky, 
too. Unless you respond immediately 
and then trash both her original letter 
and the one in your “sent” folder, 
you're asking for an appearance in di- 
vorce court. 

But if you're a gadget guy, I realize 
you probably won't be able to part with 
all your gizmos. So if you must use 2 
beeper, at least have her beep you in 
some kind of code only the two of you 
share. And if you must keep your 
$2000 state-of-the-art cell phone, nev- 
er leave it at home or have it in the car 
when your wife is with you. And if your 
secretary weeds through your voice 
mail each morning, tell your girlfriend 
to always call in reference to a “cred- 
it problem" or "insurance policy" or 
"school council meeting"—something 


nondescript and boring. 

Your best bet, my dinner guests 
agreed, would be to install a small, 
nonringing phone in the office that no 
one but you knows exists. Act as if it's 
your home phone and keep the outgo- 
ing message brief: ^Hi, I'm not here 
right now. But if you leave your name 
and number, [11 call as soon as I get 
home.” Simple. This way she feels like 
she has your work and home numbers 
and can reach you any time she desires. 
Sometimes that's all she needs, 

Are you sitting down? Do you realize 
your wife can bust you via the Inter- 
net? For some stupid reason, American 
Express records all your charges on the 
Internet. That means with your credit- 
card number and a few taps of her fin- 
gers your wife can see that you racked 
up a $200 dinner bill at the Café Alibi 
on the same night that you told her you 
were attending a mandatory safe-driv- 
ing course. This is really disturbing 
since, throughout the years, American 
Express has been wonderful in help- 
ing us sustain double lives. I have one 
friend who uses his green Amex card 
for business, his gold card for personal 
and family matters and his platinum 
card—which his wife doesn't know 
he has—for cheating. Also be careful 
of those year-end itemized statements 
American Express sends you. They're 
um for cheating on your taxes but 

jell if you're cheating on your wife. 

The credit-card bust is a moot point 
with most of my pals since they re- 
soundingly agree that a good cheater 
always uses cash. "If you see a man pay- 
ing cash for a $45 lunch bill, he's cheat- 
ing," one friend maintained. "Every- 
body uses credit cards these days. But 
using cash ensures that you don't leave 
a paper trail.” Remember never to 
overtip when dining with a girlfriend. 
Despite the need to look like a big shot, 
overtipping ensures only one thing: 
The waiter will remember you. Who 
needs that, especially when your wii 
wants you to take her to the same 
restaurant a few nights later? “Nice to 
see you again so soon, sir.” Be frugal. 
Nobody remembers a cheapskate. 

Once a relationship with her has 
gone beyond intimate dinners, there is 
much more to consider and get busted 
for. Therefore, the man who decides to 
live a double life has to establish rules 
that must never be broken. 

“If you choose Tuesdays or Fridays 
as the nights you go out with your 
friends, never, ever waver,” one friend 
insisted. "Establish a routine. And this 
has to be drummed into your wife's 
head, so she knows that on this night 
she can never expect to see you earlier. 
than one or two A.M.” 

My friend is rigid on this, to the 
point that he maintains, “Even if you 


it’s really worked out wonderfully!" 


119 


PLAYBOY 


120 


have nothing to do—all your girl- 
friends are busy or sick or whatever— 
go to a motel, rent two or three videos 
and come home late as usual. Establish- 
ing a routine and then maintaining it is 
paramount." 

Our friend has been playing a four- 
man poker game every Wednesday 
night for the past 15 years. Except that 
it's really a five-man poker game. That 
way one guy gets to go out every fifth 
week with his girlfriend and his wife 
never gets wise to it. 

Now's a good time to talk about cov- 
ers. Not bedcovers, but the person you 
sometimes entrust your married life 
with while you're out living your other 
life. Your cover can't be a flake. He has 
to be extraordinarily smooth and know 
exacuy how to run interference for you 
if your wife calls. You should never 
have to call him to say, "I was with you 
tonight if my wife calls, OK?" He'll 
automatically know how to handle it. 
Who makes a great cover? Use a guy 
your wife knows, someone whose name 
you drop every so often. First, you 
have to feel him out. Is he a rake, a 
rogue or a wolf? Perfect, he's your 
man. All you have to do is make sure he 
doesn't turn up anywhere near your 
wife on the nights in question. 

Don't laugh, but a lot of guys I know 
use their mothers as covers. Yes, dear 
old mom. Remember, a lot of moms be- 
lieve their sons are too good for their 
wives in the first place. So the idea that. 
sonny boy is out having a good time for 
himself isn't such a horrible thought. 
“Гуе been going home and showering 
at my mom's house for seven years and 
my wife has no idea,” a friend said. 
"Sometimes my mother doesn't even 
hear me come in. Sometimes she does, 
and she says, ‘Did you have a good 
time tonight, son?” 1 tell her, “Yeah, 
Mom,’ and she says, "That's nice.” 

“Only one time did my mother con- 
front me about my orher life. But she 
softened a little bit when 1 told her, 
*Mom, I'm your son, first. I'm her hus- 
band, second. Who do you care more 
about, me or her?’ And that was that.” 

Sometimes the best cover is no cover 
at all. "I don't want anybody knowing 
where 1 am,” one guy said. "In fact, I 
trust only me. When you get right 
down to it, I'm the only guy who can 
cover for me.” 


Unless you're a real fool, you've 
probably already heard of cheating's 
first cardinal sin: Don't shit where you 
eat. I realize that obsession can blind 
two people quicker than a water pistol 
filled with lye, but the first cardinal 
sin—and I'm not even sure of other 
cardinal sins, to be frank—is carved in 
stone. Bringing her to your house is 


taking out a billboard ad that says гм 
AN IDIOT. One guy at our table tried it, 
only to have her “forget” her watch on 
the nightstand. Guess who found it? 

If you're a traveling cheater, where- 
by you live your other life on the road, 
yov'll probably never get caught. So 
have a drink on me. But there are still 
some guidelines you have to follow to 
keep your other life breathing. 

For starters, never answer your hotel 
room phone. Have the hotel operator 
screen your calls. Nothing ruins a par- 
ty quicker than a phone call from the 
wife when she's in the bathroom disrob- 
ing. "One night I sat on my bed and 
listened to the phone ring 32 times," 
a friend said. “lt rang 32 times and I 
didn't pick it up. It hurt like hell, but 
nothing hurts like your wife finding 
out something she doesn’t need to 
know." 

Proximity to shopping malls is an 
important thing to consider. If you're 
not planning on an overnight cheating 
spree, you might want to choose a spot 
that's close to a mall. Come home with 
something from Sears or Nordstrom 
and let that be the reason you were late 
for dinner. Again. 

Nobody, and 1 mean nobody, has it 
better than businessmen in Toronto. 
"The Toronto Blue Jays play in the Sky 
Dome. The Sky Dome is attached to a 
hotel. In fact, if you look closely when 
fly balls are shot turning into home 
runs, you can actually see men and 
women in the rooms. Trust me on this: 
The businessmen who hold season 
tickets for the Blue Jays hardly ever see 
the games, but I bet they can describe 
every nook and cranny in the attached 
hotel. I can just hear the conversations 
taking place in various suburban To- 
ronto towns: 

"Ah, Jesus, I almost forgot, hon. I 
have Blue Jays tickets tonight. It's my 
night and I can't get out of it. Christ, I 
don't even want to see this damn game. 
Oh well, I'll be home around 11, more 
like midnight if the traffic is anything 
like the last game.” 

You want a quick nightmare? 1 have 
one friend who got busted by his nine- 
year-old son. He had told his girlfriend 
to phone him at home on Sunday 
mornings between eight and ten be- 
cause his wife would be at church. Of 
course, having your girlfriend call your 
home is stupid in itself, but one Sun- 
day the phone rang around 8:30 am. 
My pal says, “Hi-ya, sweetic pic.” Two 
hours later, his wife comes home and 
asks if anybody called. He says no, but 
then his son corrects him, “Yeah, Dad. 
Remember, Sweetie Pie called.” 

Everyone at my roundtable agreed 
that you can't slack off in bed at home. 
The minute your performance drops 
off, your wife will suspect infideli- 


ty. Make sure you play just as hard on 
the home court. Always try new tech- 
niques, different positions, new fan- 
tasies. Most men I spoke with seem to 
think that keeping a wife sexually hap- 
py holds her Nancy Drew tendencies at 
bay. But remember to be subtle. If you 
come home one evening and insist on 
doing the lambada as soon as the kids 
are asleep, you're busted 

Holiday time is especially troubling. 
You have to spend additional money 
buying extra gifts, and you spend more 
time in traffic. Plus you run the risk of 
bumping into your wife at the mall. 
Just to be on the safe side, most men I 
know buy the same gift for their wife 
and their girlfriend. That may sound 
strange, but it means you'll never screw 
up. Perhaps worse than your wife find- 
ing out that you bought something for 
another girl is your girlfriend finding 
out you spent more on your wife. 

As much as men worry about getting 
busted on foreign turf—a restaurant, a 
hotel, the opera—it's actually in their 
own bedrooms when that horrible mo- 
ment of discovery most often arrives. 

“When I'm dating a blonde, I don't 
wear navy blue suits,” a buddy said. “I 
stay with grays and browns. Nothing 
shows up better than a blonde hair on 
a navy blue suit.” 

My friend is right. Sometimes color- 
coordinating and cheating go hand in 
hand. You don't want to believe this, 
but sometimes her night is not a suc- 
cess until she knows she left a clue for 
your wife to uncover. And nothing 
works better than her hair on your suit 
jacket—or worse, her hair stuck in 
your zipper. There is no easy way out 
ofthat one. 

Now'sa good time to talk about hick- 
eys. Those little red bruises on various 
parts of your body are always ugly. 
Why we thought it was cool to have six 
hickeys on our neck in the seventh 
grade is beyond me. At any rate, hick- 
eys happen. And it takes only a second 
of carelessness. But we all know the 
fecling of reaching for a turtleneck on 
a sweltering August day when your 
wife, in her sundress, looks at you with 
confusion. There's no way around this: 
Just say no to hickeys. While we're at it, 
here's a quick word on back-scratch- 
ing. We all want a woman to scratch 
our back when she reaches orgasm— 
it’s like a warrior's mark. It has your 
friends at the tennis club thinking, 
Wow, he's got some animal on his 
hands. But in the end, those marks will 
give you away. 

Her perfumes are a quick giveaway, 
as well. Wives can smell the difference 
between Chanel No. 5 and No. 19 from 
ten yards away. With her, establish from 
the get-go that you have a perfume 

(continued on page 155) 


WWE Lisa Baker 


thirty years later, our favorite bridesmaid still takes the cake 


Lisa's 1966 centerfold (top right) was so captivoting that it qualified her to compete in а rare Playmate Play-off, in which readers ultimately 
bestawed on her the 1967 Playmate of the Year crown. Three decades later (above), Lisa reminds us that the voters made a wise chaice. 


tine for a friend in Los Angeles. What she didn’t know was that the photographer hired to shoot the wedding had 
an imaginative eye—the kind that can pluck a pretty woman from a matrimonial lineup and envision her in, per- 
haps, something less. Before you could say “I do,” Lisa ended up on the pages of PLAYBOY, first as Playmate of the Month 
(November 1966), then as Playmate of the Year (1967). Want to see more of Lisa today? Throw some rice and turn the page. 


T ALK ABOUT being in the right place at the right time, Thirty-one years ago Lisa Baker was doing the bridesmaid rou- 


PHOTOGRAPHY BY ARNY FREYTAG 


121 


In 1966 Lisa liked fast cars, hot jazz and down-to-earth men. 
She also wanted “to learn to slow down.” But 30 years later 
she's still on the move, working in the Texas oil industry, see- 
ing a certain lucky cowboy (above), operating her own mai 
order company and, as we see here, looking great to boot. 


124 


ASHAR RIO 
ШАВА НАМІ 


he's large, he's loud апа he scares white people. can this swaggering 
agitator pick up the torch from martin, adam and jesse to 
do the political thing? just listen to him preach 


he Reverend Alfred Charles Sharp- 

ton Jr. adjusted his chalk-striped, 

double-breasted suit and ran a thin 

comb through his shoulder-length, 
slowly graying mane. It was a Friday evening and the minis- 
ter, activist and candidate for mayor of New York City was in 
his Harlem headquarters, a sprawling building called the 
Hall of Justice. Hundreds of New Yorkers were waiting to 
hear him speak in an auditorium down the hall. It was going 
to be a long night, and Sharpton had only a moment to 
make his point. But he wasn't going to rush. 

He swaggered across the room, past a framed portait of 
Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., and, with beaming pride, swept 
up a photograph from a table. It showed Sharpton leaning 
over to speak into the Reverend Jesse Jackson's car as both 
men sat on a stage. Sharpton pointed to a second photo- 
graph, of a young Jackson sporting a large Afro and leaning 
over into Dr. King's ear moments before the legendary “1 
have been to the mountaintop” speech on the final evening 
of King's life. It was a present from Jackson on Sharpton's 
recent 42nd birthday. The photo was signed in gold ink: “Al, 
the struggle has continuity. Keep hope alive, Jesse Jackson.” 

And that was Sharpton's point: He is taking over from 
Jackson as America’s preeminent black spokesman and 
leader. His challenge to New York City Mayor Rudolph Giu- 
liani in September's Democratic primary guarantees a con- 
tinuing media spotlight, Sharpton, of course, has long been 
in the New York spotlight. He became a celebrity activist in 
the mid-Eighties but was often dismissed as a shrill self-pro- 
moter. Once weighing in at over 300 pounds, he was clown- 
ishly fat to boot. Sharpton seemed like a combination of Mal- 
colm X and William “Refrigerator” Perry. But in the past 
several years Sharpton has shed some of his incendiary style, 
along with more than 100 pounds. As he seeks a national au- 
dience from his New York pulpit he has already demon- 
strated, in New York state senatorial primaries in 1992 and 
1994, that he can win votes. 

“I'm 13 years younger than Jesse. He was 13 


YBOY PROFILE 


years younger than King. So in many ways 
it's like a continuation,” Sharpton said. 
“Once a woman said to me, ‘I grew up 
watching Malcolm and King. The only ac- 
tivism my kids know is you. And I hope you don't let ‘em 
down.' She's right. What white America won't deal with is 
that in my generation, I am the Jesse Jackson." 

Sharpton again smoothed the comb through his hair and 
followed his longtime chief of staff, Carl Redding, a former 
pro football player, out into the buzzing crowd. Sharpton 
strutted, melding a bull's brutishness with a rooster's right- 
eousness. Just by walking Sharpton seemed to embody the 
character of New York: larger than life, outspoken, ethnic, 
epic. You could also see the black street style that makes him 
a pariah to many whites: "I'm a strect nigger,” Sharpton 
said, "I come out of the projects. We hung on the corners 
and we wore slick hair and we listened to James Brown and 
we whistled at the girls. That's who I am. But I’m also a can- 
didate. So I'm making street niggers politically acceptable." 

Sharpton does not campaign with speeches, he campaigns 
with preaching. He began preaching to crowds when he was 
four years old and has never stopped. Sharpton at a podium 
can sound the way some gutbucket soul music feels. His ora- 
torical style weaves cadence, repetition, rhythm and tremen- 
dous passion with audience participation. One is apt to hear 
him exclaim, “Black folk have a bad habit.” 

“Well!” someone will call out. 

“We love our dead leaders!” 

“Yasss!” 

“And kill our living leaders!” 

“Tell it!” 

“Soon as one of our leaders die, we hang up pictures all 
over the place. We change the street name up after them. 
But while they among us, we don't do nothing but criticize 
them. We are like vultures, we hang out at the cemetery.” 

“Come on, Rev!” 

Tonight, up on the stage, he greeted his wife, 


by Toure Kathy, a former backup singer for James 


ILLUSTRATION BY DAVIO LEVINE 


PLAYBOY 


126 


Brown. Together, they stood at the 
podium and sang in gritty, soulful voic- 
es, "I believe I can fly!" from R. Kelly's 
song of the same name. It is Sharpton's 
unofficial campaign theme song. "I be- 
lieve I can touch the sky!" they went 
on, as some in the crowd joined in. 
"Spread my wings and fly away! I think 
about it every night and day!" 

Later, at home, they seemed like typ- 
ical middle-class parents. Wife Kathy 
retired recently from the Army re- 
serves, and Sharpton has a steady in- 
come (approximately $60,000 a year) 
from preaching and speechmaking. 
His average college campus fee is 
$3000. James Brown helps bankroll 
the family, in part by paying for the 
private educations of daughters Do- 
minique and Ashley, 11 and 10. Kathy 
fixed dinner that night while the two 
girls watched Nickelodeon in their 
room with the sound blaring. Sharpton 
flipped through the day's mail: some 
bills, an autograph request, two pleas 
for help from people who said they 
were victims of discrimination, and a 
death threat. He paused to listen to the 
cacophony from his daughters’ room. 

“My kids are experiencing the de- 
cline of the trend that I grew up watch- 
ing," he said a bit solemnly, referring to 
the election of black mayors in cities 
throughout the country. "In running 
for mayor," Sharpton said, “what I'm 
trying to do is hold a torch that Ameri- 
ca—of the Newt Gingrich to Giuliani 
era—has tried to put the flame out of. 1 
must run for mayor, if for no other rea- 
son than because the kids behind me 
will aspire." 

Sharpton remains a racial Rorschach 
test. Despite his mellowing, many 
whites continue to see him as Joan Did- 
ion, in her 1992 essay "Sentimental 
Journeys," put it: "clearly disqualified 
from casting as the Good Negro, the 
credit to the race. It was left, then, to 
cast Sharpton, and for Sharpton to cast. 
himself, as the Outrageous Nigger." 
Despite Sharptor's attempts to appear 
more statesmanlike, many blacks con- 
tinue to agree with boxing promoter 
Don King, who said, “Joan was on the 
money, 'cause he is an outrageous nig- 
ger. And I think that's good. We need 
more outrageous niggers. We got a lot 
of niggers that's sleeping, sleeping 
through a revolution. Sharpton is an 
outrageous nigger for good, fighting 
for his community." 

Sharpton said he was uncomfortable 
with the label, though he prefers it to 
"Good Negro." He defined himself this 
way: “It’s not a question of me sitting in 
a room saying, let me cast myself as 
this. I'm the natural result of a genera- 
tion and of growing up around the 
‘outrageous niggers’ of that genera- 
tion. If one were to look past the sound 


bite and look at my mentors and my 
development, I couldn't have been 
anything else.” 

. 


One day in 1958, three-year-old Al 
Sharpton came home from church, 
lined up his sister's dolls and preached 
to them. After a few months with the 
Raggedy Anns and Andys he was given 
a chance to preach to a few hundred 
real people at the family's church, the 
Washington Temple Church of God in 
Christ. Sharpton, at the age of four, 
preached from the Gospel of John 
(14:1): "Let not your heart be troubled: 
Ye believe in God, believe also in me.” 
He was nervous at first, but soon felt 
right at home. 

By the time he was nine he was 
known in black holiness circles as Won- 
derboy. He lived with his parents, Al Sr. 
and Ada, 12-year-old sister, Cheryl, 
and 17-year-old half-sister, Tina, his 
mother's daughter from a previous 
marriage, in a middle-class neighbor- 
hood in Queens. One day in 1963 the 
family learned that Tina was pregnant 
with Al Sr.'s child. The family cracked 
forever. Tina moved out and gave birth 
to a boy named Kenneth. Sharpton 
fled with his mother and sister from 
their ten-room house to a five-room 
apartment in the projects in Brooklyn. 
Al Jr. began a lifelong search for a re- 
placement for the father whom he has 
never forgiven. 

Preaching continued to be Sharp- 
топ life. "He was a child prodigy,” said 
Jesse Jackson. “His interest in athletics 
and children's games, even dating, was 
limited.” Sharpton was ordained at the 
age of ten, and began preaching in at 
least one church every Sunday, a min- 
istry he has continued his entire life. 
His home church's elders took him on 
a Caribbean tour when he was ten 
(where, in Jamaica, he took it upon 
himself to meet the widow of Marcus 
Garvey) and arranged for him to tour 
with gospel singer Mahalia Jackson, to 
preach before her concerts. In the pul- 
pit Sharpton developed and refined 
the oratorical and personal style that 
remains the root of the adulation and 
the scorn he draws. These days he vis- 
its close to 80 churches a year. 

One day when he was 11, Sharpton 
was browsing in a bookstore and came 
across a 99-cent paperback about a 
black preacher and congressman from 
Harlem, the Reverend Adam Clayton 
Powell Jr. For a spell in the Sixties, the 
dashing Powell was one of the most fa- 
mous black leaders in America. Joe 
Klein described him in The New Repub- 
lic as “the first modern rogue civil 
rights leader, the progenitor of the 
badass school of black leadership." In 
1967 Powell was expelled from Con- 


gress for a slew of offenses, including 
the misappropriation of government 
funds. (Two years later, however, the 
Supreme Court ruled that Powell had 
been unfairly excluded from Con- 
gress.) Today, a prominent boulevard 
in Harlem is named after him. 

“This was amazing to me,” Sharp- 
ton said. "Here's this guy fightin’ for 
black people, pastorin' this church, con- 
gressman, do-or-die attitude, whites 
couldn't tell him nothin’. I mean, I re- 
ally started admiring this guy." One 
Sunday in the mid-Sixties Reverend 
Sharpton walked into Harlem's Abys- 
sinian Baptist Church in search of his 
idol. He walked out thinking he had 
seen God. He and Powell became fast 
friends. 

"Any time he came to town I at- 
tached myself to his entourage," 
Sharpton said. "He gave me a sense of 
a black man havin’ power, but havin" 
arrogance with it. 1 was in his office one 
day and the secretary answered the 
phone and said, “Congressman Powell, 
it's President Johnson on the phone." 
Adam said, ‘OK.’ And she said, ‘What'll 
I tell him?’ He said, “Tell him you'll 
give me the message.” 

One day in 1969 Powell appeared on 
The David Frost Show and took young 
Sharpton along. “The second question 
of the show,” Sharpton recalls, “David 
Frost said, “You've been described as a 
womanizer, a tax cheat, an agitator, a 
black racist. How would you, Adam 
Powell, describe yourself? And Powell, 
without even thinking about it, said, 
"I'm the only man in America, black or 
white, who doesn't give a damn." 1 nev- 
er forgot that don't-give-a-damn atti- 
tude. I mean, in the heat of controver- 
sy, I'd always think about Adam saying, 
‘I don't give a damn.” 

Also in 1969, 14-year-old Sharpton 
joined the New York branch of Opera- 
tion Breadbasket, a Chicago-based civil 
rights organization that had grown out 
of Dr. King's Southern Christian Lead- 
ership Conference. He learned about 
protesting and community activism 
and quickly became Breadbasker's na- 
tional youth director. He participated 
in a successful all-night sit-in at the 
Manhattan corporate offices of A&P, 
the supermarket chain, protesting un- 
fair hiring practices. One day Bread- 
basket's national director, the Rev- 
erend Jesse Jackson, came to town. “In 
them days Jesse never wore a suit and 
tie,” Sharpton recalls. “He had a big 
"fro, a Martin Luther King medallion, a 
dashiki, the whole bit. So the first night 
I met Jesse I immediately saw him as 
the charismatic, flamboyant type, like 
Adam was. And 1 immediately became 
like a protégé to him." 

Powell died in 1972, and the next 

(continued on page 142) 


| 7 EN 


“I knew there had to be more to this mountain biking than 
Just mountain biking.” 


he is our official 
custodian of the dictionary. 
he keeps us sane 


when others would drive us crazy 


Some Favorite Oxymorons 
assistant supervisor. 
new tradition 
original copy 
plastic glass 
uninvited guest 
highly depressed 
live recording 
authentic reproduction 
partial cease-fire 
limited lifetime guarontee 
elevcted subway 
dry lake 
true replica 
forward lateral 
standard options 


Unnecessary Words 
There is a tendency these days 
to complicate speech by adding 
unnecessary words. The follow- 
ing phrases contain at least one 
word foo many: 
emergency situation 
prison setting 
risk factor 
shower activity 
peace process 
crisis situation 
surgical procedure 
intensity level 
leadership role 
boarding process 
belief system 


learning process 
flotation device 
seating area 
rain event 
hospital environment 
sting operation 
confidence level 
fear factor 
evacuation process 
healing process 
free of charge 
rehabilitation process 
standoff situation 
knowledge base 
facial area 
shooting incident 
forest setting 
daily basis 
planning process 
beverage items 
blue in color 


The best example of this prob- 
lem is: “At that point in time.” 
I've even heard people say, "At 
that particular point in time.” 
Boy, that’s really pinning it 
down, isn't it? 

This typing process is begin- 
ning to tire out my finger area. 
Not to mention what it's doing 
to my mind situation. | think it's 
time to consider the break factor 
here, before | have a fatigue in- 
cident. (continued on page 148) 


ILLUSTRATION BY ARNOLD ROTH 


we proudly crown queen 


PHOTOGRAPHY BY STEPHEN WAYDA 


ictoria Silvstedt spent New 
Year's Eve 1995 in Monte Car- 
lo, at a party attended by 


Prince Albert and other dignitaries. "I 
could never have dreamed how my 
year would end. To go from my tiny 
Village to being Miss December in 
PLAYBOY—my head is spinning,” says 
the former Miss Sweden. Victoria's sto- 
ry began in Bollnás, a speck on the 
map not far from the Arctic Circle. AF 
ter high school she moved to Stock- 
holm, where the tall blonde beauty 
turned heads. At 19, Victoria entered 
the Miss Sweden pageant, which she 
won with perfect swimsuit form and 
her iceberg-melting smile. Then came 
three years asa well-known Paris-based 
model. Finally, in early 1996, she acted 
on a lifelong fantasy: to be a centerfold 
girl in the U.S. ргАҮВОУ. Miss Decem- 
ber 1996 made that dream come true 
in her typical go-for-it style. One day 
she simply appeared at the door of our 
West Coast offices in Beverly Hills. "I 
want to try out for Playmate," Victoria 
said. We were instantly convinced, and 
in her Playmate pictorial we called Vic- 
toria "blondeness perfected 
Something happened the moment 
December's rLAYBOY hit the stands. 
Within hours Victoria's photos were all 
over cyberspace, and she had an instant. 


Internet fan club. With modern fame measured in 
hit points, she was an international celeb. Fellow 
skiers did double takes: “Miss December?” Now she 
has another title: Victoria Silvstedt is our Playmate of 
the Year. 

Soon after her Playmate appearance this past De- 


cember, Victoria received a call from the folks at 


ictoria gets more than kicks out of her PMOY gig. Her perks in- 
y clude o new 1997 Porsche (above) with o check for $100,000 in 
the glove box. Note the car's color: shiny silver. "I will drive it 
much too fast,” she soys. Below ond on the facing page, our latest dream 


date shows the form and playfulness that complete her Playmote of the 
Year credentiols. Will Victorio zoom to TV fame, too? Follow that Porsche. 


Guess. Now she's the new 
Guess girl in a blockbuster 
national ad campaign. "I 
feel most comfortable in 
front of a camera," she 
says. Swedish TV has of- 
fered her a weekly series, 
but Victoria wants to suc- 
ceed in the U.S., the land 
of her dreams. "Growing 
up in Bollnás, I was dying 
to be here. Fashion, music, 
movies and TV—every- 
thing comes from Ameri- 
ca." When she was just a 
teen, onc of her boy- 
friends, a heavy-metal mu- 
sician, worshiped Metallica 
and took her to every 
Stockholm concert the 
band played. This year our 
new PMOY attended the 
American Music Awards as 
a backstage VIP. “I met 
Metallica! And Rod Stew- 
art and Quincy Jones,” she 
says. “This is what can hap- 
pen to a girl in America.” 
Happily single at 22, she 
recently split with her chic, 
possessive French amour. 
“He was OK when I was a 
model, but a pLaynoy Play- 
mate? Non. He freaked 
out. I was getting too much 
attention from other men.” 
As her fan mail piled up in 
their apartment near the 
Arc de Triomphe, he said 
she had to choose between 
him and her American 
dreams. “So now I am 
alone,” says Victoria. 
Which is not the same as 
celibate. When asked what 
she thinks of American 
men, she can't help smil- 
ing. "Now that I've tried 
them, you mean? Well, I 
can still say I love every- 
thing American." Yet Vic- 
toria isn’t really one to play 
the field. At heart she is 
still the village girl from 
the land of real reindeer. 
"My heart is still Swedish," 
she says. And there she was 
on New Year's Eve 1996: 
not in Monte Carlo or New 
York but at her parents” 
home in Bollnäs, lighting 
homemade sparklers and 
Roman candles, fireworks 
in a snowy sky. 


ES A М $” 


|hen Victorio gets in o lother, it 
|J doesn’t meon she's mod. Here 
she attends to o little personal 
ond (obove) lets us know in no un- 
er what's reolly on her mind. 


n Sweden, they don't know what to think about my PLAYBOY pictures. People osk my mother, ‘Will she do only porno now?" You see, 
we have a lot of dirty sex mogazines in my country but nothing pretty,” Victoria soys. "The younger people who see me, girls os well 


os guys, support me. Even my mom is getting used to the ideo. She said, ‘I can accept it, but pleose don't do it again.” Oops. 


stop smiling,” she says. She hopes others follow her advice. "Stå på er ach var er själv. Der kommerdu — 


yy hatever her mother may think af her appearance here, Victoria isn't blushing. "I am sa happy I con't 
längst pá!” says Victoria. Rough translation: Be yourself. Keep moving, and you might get all you wont! 


PELA Seer DAY 


142 


AL SHARPTON onina on pase 120) 


On television Sharpton was outsize, brash and dra- 
matic, even by New York standards. 


year Sharpton went backstage at a con- 
cert in Newark, New Jersey and met 
James Brown. In his autobiography, Go 
and Tell Pharoah, Sharpton said, “I 
thought that when I'd seen Adam Clay- 
ton Powell I'd seen God, but after I saw 
James Brown, I knew I'd seen God." 

Sharpton soon started working for 
Brown as a promoter and learned 
about connecting with the masses. 
"James taught me to not be afraid to 
Keep your natural, African-based 
style," Sharpron said. "James doesn't 
water down soul, or water down his 
black-based personality. James was one 
of the first superstars who made it off 
grassroots black people because James 
3s the ultimate black street guy." 

One sign of that identity is Brown's 
straightened hair. Ironically, in the 
Fifties, when Brown's career started, 
conking was an assimilationist attempt 
to imitate white people's hair. But over 
the decades it became an emphatic 
black gesture. Sharpton noted that 
straightening his naturally kinky hair 
to achieve an authentically black style 
"is a paradox." He vows he will never 
change it, in honor of Brown. 

While working with Brown, Sharp- 
ton met Don King. In 1974 King was 
trying to convince Zairean president 
Mobutu Sese Seko to host the Mubam- 
mad Ali-George Foreman heavyweight 
title fight, called “the Rumble in the 
Jungle.” Mobutu told King he would 
host the fight if James Brown per- 
formed. "So I meet Don,” Sharpton re- 
called, "and he's got that hair and he's 
quoting Socrates and Plato and say- 
ing"—Sharpton cuts to a flawless imita- 
tion of King's loopy, circus showman's 
voice—"' Ya know, Reverend, I just got 
out the joint four years ago and I'm re- 
habilitated.' I said, ‘What'd you go to 
jail for? Murder" I'm like, Whoa!” 

Through the late Seventies and carly 
Eighties Sharpton and King supported 
each other in various ways. King do- 
nated money to Sharpton's National 
Youth Movement, a grassroots commu- 
nity-action group he founded in 1971. 
NYM had a broad agenda that indud- 
ed protesting police brutality and 
boardroom discrimination. King also 
provided access to boxers and celebri- 
ties for NYM events. Sbarpton, in turn, 
helped convince black athletes such as 
James *Bonecrusher" Smith and Mike 
Tyson that they should employ a black 
promoter, namely King. In 1984 
Sharpton helped King secure the 


rights to promote the Jackson Family 
Victory Tour, then traveled with the 
tour helping the Jacksons with commu- 
nity relations in each city. Sharpton 
said Don King taught him “to believe 
in your ideas, to try to do something 
nobody ever did and to go for the dra- 
matic moment to project your story." 

It was also in the early Fighties that 
Sharpton found himself in a conversa- 
tion with a man who turned out to be 
an FBI informer, and who taped the 
meeting. According to Sharpton, "The 
government, posing as a boxing pro- 
moter, called a meeting and then 
turned the meeting from talking about 
boxing to talking about drugs. On the 
tape I clearly said I wasn't into that." 
Sharpton described the encounter as 
“a failed entrapment attempt by the 
government. Obviously, or they would 
have indicted me." 

Nevertheless, Sharpton soon began 
collaborating with the FBI. "When 
they came after me to turn on Don 
King I wouldn't do it. I told "em, "Let's 
go after some drug dealers." For sev- 
eral years he was an informer, dealing 
with organized crime and drug investi- 
gations. But, according to New York Post 
columnist Jack Newfield’s book Only in 
America: The Life and Crimes of Don King, 
Sharpton did inform on King, provid- 
ing the FBI with tapes of conversa- 
tions. Sharpton denies this. 

While Sharpton was working for the 
FBI, New York's racial climate turned 
searingly hot. First, in September 
1983, a black teen named Michael 
Stewart lapsed into a coma while in the 
custody of transit police and later died. 
Then, in October 1984, 66-year-old 
Eleanor Bumpurs, a 300-pound emo- 
tionally disturbed black woman, was 
shot twice and killed by police who had 
come to evict her from her apartment 
because she was late with her rent. The 
six police officers, who were equipped 
with the usual weapons and bullet- 
proof vests, maintained that Bumpurs 
menaced them with a ten-inch kitchen 
knife. In December 1985, Bernhard 
Goetz shot four black teens on the 
subway. The void in black leadership 
in New York was obvious. “In many 
ways,” said a source close to Sharpton, 
“the fact that we didn’t have somebody 
out there stirring things up was what 
allowed somebody like Al Sharpton to 
rise. I think that had Jesse and oth- 
ers not continued in that vein, an Al 
Sharpton would probably never have 


happened.” 

In the early hours of December 20, 
1986 Sharpton got a phone call that 
told of another outrage that had hap- 
pened just hours earlier. Three black 
men had walked into a pizzeria in a 
predominantly white New York neigh- 
borhood called Howard Beach to call 
for help after their car had broken 
down. They soon found themselves 
face-to-face with a group of white men 
screaming, “Niggers, you don't belong 
here!” The three black men tried to 
run away. One escaped. One was 
caught and beaten. Michael Griffith, 
23, ran onto a highway, where he was 
struck and killed by a car. 

Mayor Ed Koch told a press confer- 
ence that afternoon that Griffith and 
his friends were “chased like animals 
through the streets.” Koch compared 
the incident to “the kind of lynching 
party that took place in the Deep 
South.” Nevertheless, no single black 
leader arose to denounce the crime— 
until a few days after the Koch press 
conference. Then Sharpton went to the 
Howard Beach pizzeria and roared, 
“We did not have our children so they 
could be target practice for some white 
mobs that can’t behave themselves!” 
He led a tense march of hundreds 
of blacks (and a handful of whites) 
through the streets of Howard Beach. 
The crowd chanted “This is not Johan- 
nesburg” while hundreds of locals 
screamed racist slurs. Hundreds of po- 
lice officers kept the peace while every 
television news show in town recorded 
the noisy, dangerous scene. On televi- 
sion Sharpton was outsize, brash and 
dramatic, even by New York standards. 
He combined the flamboyant arro- 
gance of Adam Clayton Powell and the 
street sense of James Brown with the 
hustler’s theatricality of Don King. Lat- 
er, Sharpton paid homage to Dr. Mar- 
tin Luther King Jr. “Dr. King,” Sharp- 
id, “embarrassed America m 
breaking down segregation. People 
around the world saw kids with water 
hoses on them. Well, we did the same 
thing. When they saw on TV people in 
Howard Beach standing there with wa- 
termelons, calling us niggers, they 
couldn't say it wasn’t racism. All of the 
scholarly speeches in the world 
couldn't have done that. Two seconds 
on the news does that.” 

Sharpton became, for better and 
worse, a star. Then he got into trouble. 

In late November 1987 in Wap- 
pingers Falls, New York, a small Hud- 
son Valley town 80 miles north of Man- 
hattan, a 15-year-old black girl named 
Tawana Brawley, who'd been missing 
for four days, was found, alive, in a 
plastic garbage bag. Her body was 
smeared with feces and someone had 

(continued on page 173) 


JULIANNA MARGULIES 


orn in New York City and raised in 

England and France, Julianna Mar- 
gulies never intended to become an actress. 
Her love was art history and roaming 
through the world's great museums. Howev- 
er, during her first year at Sarah Lawrence 
College, she studied theater asa creative out- 
let and soon found herself cast in produc- 
tions. After graduation, Margulies forged a 
successful theater career in New York (in- 
cluding a part in "The Substance of Fire"), 
which led to appearances on “Homicide” 
and “Law and Order.” While visiting a 
friend in Los Angeles, Margulies audi- 


tioned for a guest role in the pilot episode of 


“ER.” Impressed with her work, executive 
producers Steven Spielberg and Michael 
Crichton chose her for the role of nurse Car- 
ole Hathaway. “ER” is consistently among 
the lop five programs in the Nielsen ratings 
and is the highest-rated drama series in more 
than 20 years. Members of the cast have 
been nominated for many acting awards, 
but Margulies is the sole recipient of an Em- 
my. She has also been nominated for Golden 
Globe and Screen Actors Guild awards. Her 
career has recently expanded to the big 
screen with co-starring roles in “Paradise 
Road” opposite Glenn Close and “Traveller” 
with Bill Paxton. 

Robert Crane cornered the kinetic Mar- 
gulies at a coffeehouse in Santa Monica. He 
reports: “Despite her hectic seven-day-a- 
week filming schedule (four spent on a 
movie in New York, three on “ER” in Los 
Angeles), Margulies is a nonstop energy 

source focused on 


y her rk. Sh 

er's heart- fes ett d 

H does. She also has 

stopping the most intense 

md med eye- 

numelon brows Tue ever 
what we'd саа 
=i ih 

find under- PLAYBOY: You 

have been 

neath her А dubbed Crash 

scrubsandin Сг:—ап ap- 

e parent refer- 

her medicine ence to your 

fe celebrated 

cabinet, and clumsiness. 

a Under what 

why toast is circumstances 

Я are you more 
nature's per- graceful? 


MARGULIES: 
Probably when 
I'm in a beauti- 
ful dress, going 
out for the eve- 


fect food 


PHOTOGRAPHY BY MARK SELIGER 


ning, when I try to have some sort of 
grace and walk with a little elegance. It 
doesn't seem to be my style for the 
most part. I’m kind of proud of my 
bruises. 

My extreme clumsiness happens 
when I'm not thinking very well. We 
were filming the show once and were 
running down the hallway with a gur- 
ney. We turned a corner, and I got 
stuck between a door and the gurney. 
It was one of the most painful things 
I've ever felt. The set doctor checked to 
see if I still had a pelvic region, and we 
did the shot over. 


2. 


PLAYBOY: What actual nursing skill 
would you like to have? 

MARGULIES: I worry that when someone 
is really choking, I'm not going to 
know how to do the Heimlich maneu- 
ver. And P'd love to be able to save a 
life. That is the ultimate, isn't it? 

I was at the gym when a girl fainted. 
Everyone turned to me, and I was on 
the treadmill going, “I play a nurse on 
TV. What am I going to do?” It's flat- 
tering, though, when they turn to me, 
because I must be doing my job right. 


38 


rLAYBOY: What's casier, putting a cath- 
eter in an attractive guy or in an unat- 
tractive guy? 

MARGULIES: It would be easier to put a 
catheter in an attractive guy because at 
least you could stare at his face and get 
some relief. It's a disgusting job, but 
somebody's got to do it. If the guy is 
unattractive, you get the job done 
quicker. I have never put a catheter 
in anyone, so I'm bullshitting this 
whole thing. 


(S 


PLAYBOY: Is it hard to feel attractive in 
scrubs? Do you keep your nurse's out- 
fit at home for those special moments? 
MARGULIES: It's hard, but I've come to 
terms with it. I just accept that I'm go- 
ing to be a pink blob for the day, and I 
pray that I have a great T-shirt color 
underneath. I leave my uniform on the 
floor in my dressing room, hoping nev- 
er to see it again. They're a thorn in my 
side, those pink scrubs. 


Ek 


PLAYBOY: We heard that Steven Spiel- 
berg said you remind him of his ex- 
wife, Amy Irving. 

MARGULIES: He said to me the first year 


we were shooting, "You remind me of 
my ex-wife.” I don't think that's why 
I was hired. NBC and Warner pret- 
ty much brought me on, and then 
Michael Crichton had to OK it. I met 
Amy Irving recently at a restaurant 
and she said, “So apparently we're 
twins.” It was great. Personally, I think 
I look like George Clooney. There are 
more men I look like than women, but 
I've heard that I look like Nancy Ker- 
rigan, Kirstie Alley, even a dark-haired 
Michelle Pfeiffer. I've heard Madon- 
na—imagine that. I think I look like an 
eastern European Jew, quite frankly. 


6. 


PLAYBOY: Among medical support peo- 
ple, which group is the hunkiest? 
MARGULIES: No thought there. Firemen. 
I mean, they can swing you onto their 
shoulder with one arm and carry you 
down a ladder. Of course, you're going 
to want to end up with a doctor, be- 
cause you'll have security for the rest of 
your life. But ifit's just a matter of, you 
know, then you've got to go with the 
firemen. 


e 


PLAYBOY: Which characters on ER have 
not achieved their erotic potential? 
MARGULIES: Laura Innes—Dr. Weaver. 
Man, I think she is so sexy, and that 
hasn't been explored at all. She walks 
with a crutch, but thar's just her char- 
acter. She is so beautiful and sexy, and 
I can't wait for her to get a love inter- 
est. That's going to be fun. And then, 
of course, there's Abe Benrubi, who 
plays Jerry, the really big guy. I want to 
see him have sex. 


8. 


PLAYBOY: Rate your male co-stars’ sexu- 
al heat. 

MARGULIES: That would be like fucking 
your brother. These guys are the broth- 
ers I never had, and there is something 
so wrong with the idea of actually 
sleeping with any of them. Not that all 
four of them aren't desirable, they are, 
but it goes beyond that. It would be 
sick, unless of course we went back 
to Kentucky and tried it. I'm from 
New York, and in New York we don't 
do that. 


D 


PLAYBOY: What discipline best describes 
courtship and love—dance, opera or 
hydraulics? 

MARGULIES: One of the most erotic 


145 


PLAYBOY 


146 


things you can do is spend all night. 
dancing with someone, I mean, like, 
beautiful dancing, you know, or even 
sexy dancing. With disco, there's a 
rhythm and a mood that stays with you 
forever. I've always wanted to tango, but 
I don't know how. 


10. 


PLAYBOY: You once said that you would 
go back to waitressing rather than do a 
role you hate. Give us an example. 
MARGULIES: There was one role I was 
supposed to do—the producers wanted 
me to cut my hair, straighten it, dye it 
red and play a vixen who gets into bed 
with a lot of stupid, ugly men. In order 
to live with myself, I decided it'd be bet- 
ter to sling hash for one more round. It 
was a TV show that aired once or twice. 
And I would have been stuck with short, 
red hair. Come on. 


11. 


PLAYBOY: You've lived, traveled and stud- 
ied in Europe. What can a young woman 
learn there that she can't learn in the 
United States? 

MARGULIES: She can learn a lot about his- 
tory, culture and art—just walking down 
a street in Paris you're surrounded by it. 
She can learn a lot about great food. She 
would learn how to enjoy life, because 
that’s what Europeans do. In so doing 
she would become much more ground- 
ed. Bodies aren't an issue. Breasts aren't 
an issue. 1 grew up going to topless 
beaches and it was never an issue. Then 
I came here and suddenly I was being 
stared at and was told I was doing the 
wrong thing. All of a sudden it was bad 
to have breasts. If Americans relaxed 
and allowed the body to be what it is, 


then we wouldr't make such a big deal 
out of sex. Girls are much more mature 
in Europe. I was the skinny, scrawny, 
boy-body with no breasts, and my 
friends who were the same age—12 
years old—had breasts and their periods 
already. They were so much more ad- 
vanced. On the other hand, I was street- 
smart and could handle a conversation 
ata young age. 


12. 


PLAYBOY: Have you received any letters 
from heartbroken men in Europe? 
MARGULIES: Apparently we're very big in 
France right now, and I'm getting all 
these French love letters. French was my 
first language, but I’m so rusty at it that 
1 sit there for hours trying to translate. 
T'm sure the letters are really beautiful, 
French being the most beautiful lan- 
guage in the world. [ also get a lot of 
prison letters. I am going to be a prison 
wife to four or five different guys in the 
next few years. But, hey, we all have our 
destiny. 


13. 


PLAYBOY: What theme or homage show is 
ER ripe for? 

MARGULIES: 1 would love to do a dream 
sequence so we could shoot in Hawaii for 
a week. I was trying to explain it to the 
producers. We work really hard, and it 
would be nice to go to Hawaii for ten 
days. You'd see Dr. Greene in a lei and a 
grass skirt, you know, doing that thing 
with his little glasses. Then you'd see this 
image of Laura without her cane, run- 
ning in the sand, and Gloria sitting there 
with all these men around her, and 
nurse Hathaway playing the conga, feel- 
ing the rhythm. It really would be fun. 


“Uh-oh, it looks like there may be a dress code.” 


And then we'd all wake up, like we were 
having our own little daydreams in dif- 
ferent parts of the hospital. This is why 
T'm not a writer. 


14. 


PLAYBOY: Your father is a successful ad 
executive who has written many famous 
jingles. Complete the couplet “Plop, 


plop, fizz, fizz... . 
MARGULIES: My thing was, Dad, can you 
write for a car company so we can get 
BMWs or something? We have enough 
Alka-Seltzer in the house for a lifetime. 
As a kid, I wasn't allowed to watch televi- 
sion, so I never knew what a big deal that 
commercial was. When I got older and 
people asked me what my father did, I'd 
say, "Oh, he writes commercials. He 
wrote that Alka-Seltzer commercial." I 
never realized the impact it had. My fa- 
ther is a heavy-duty intellectual, so it's 
not his proudest moment. He finds it 
ironic that he spent four years studying. 
philosophy and then wrote "Plop, plop, 
fizz, fizz” and got all of these accolades 
for it. 

My father said to me recently, "I watch 
you on ER and you're my little girl. I see 
you on Letterman, 1 can't relate. You 
come out in these glamorous things and 
look so different from what I'm used to 
seeing." When I'm acting it's fine, but he 
doesn't get all the publicity stuff. It’s 
hard for him to relate to it as a father. I 
understand that. It's very odd. In Travel- 
ет the movie I did with Bill Paxton, I 
do a little striptease number. I'm wear- 
ing boxers and a bad Sears bra—my 
choice—that never comes off. I don’t 
want my dad to see it. It's like Hollywood 
forgets that you're someone's little girl, 
you know. 


15. 


PLAYBOY: With all the Emmy nomina- 
tions that ER has received, was it weird 
for you to be singled out the year that 
you won? 

MARGULIES: Noah Wyle said to me the 
night that I won, "God, if that isn't poet- 
ic justice," because I wasn't really accept- 
ed in the beginning. It wasn't the cast— 
it was the publicity. I was kept out of 
everything, so I wasn't seen as part of the 
cast. They had spent the summer togeth- 
er doing publicity, and then I came on. 
"Ihey tried to keep me a secret. I didn't 
end up in any of the pictures, and no 
one knew who I was. The cast had al- 
ready bonded, and I felt like an outsider. 
So when I won, it brought me into the 
loop. I was flattered, I was honored. It 
got me a raise. 


16. 


PLAYBOY: Seinfeld is the king of cereal. Is 
it true you're the queen of toast? 

MARGULIEs: When you toast something, 
the smell that permeates the house is so 
beautiful. There's something so ground- 
ed about bread. You know, "Give us this 


Friday 7:42pm 
You're having a conversation. 
(Without a modem.) 


PLAYBOY 


148 


day our daily bread.” And toasted bread 
is best when the butter melts just right, 
and you put a little jam on it. Light toast 
doesn't do it for me. It's got to be toasted 
pretty well. Not burnt, but just right. For 
Christmas I was given the toaster I've 
bcen waiting for my whole life. It looks 
like a Fifties radio, and it has four big 
slots so you don't have to cut the bread 
too thin. It has a timer for when you are 
out of the room, because you have to 
bring the toast up manually. It will keep 
the toast warm for ten minutes. That's 
heaven. It's from Williams-Sonoma. And 
I couldn't buy it for myself because I was 
embarrassed that it was so expensive. It 
sits on my kitchen counter with pride. 


17. 


PLAYBOY: Are you an organ donor? 
MARGULIES: Yeah. All of them. Proud to 
be one. 


18. 


PLAYBOY: What would we find in your 
medicine cabinet? 

MARGULIES: You'd find Nyquil, which I 
just recently discovered. It’s great. 1 had 
a slight cough and it put me out. That's 
my newest acquisition. You'd find a big 
bottle of Advil—I don't believe in suffer- 
ing with cramps. You'd find old nail pol- 
ish and rail polish remover, which I nev- 
er use. You'd find old drugs, including 
Percodan and Percocet, that I never fin- 
ished because they make me crazy. I’ve 


had friends say, “Listen, I'll buy those 
from you." For some reason I can't let go 
of them. 


19. 


PLAYBOY: Under what circumstances 
would you not revive a date? 

MARGULIES: Гуе had one blind date in my 
life. I was a freshman in college and my 
sister set me up with a guy from her of- 
fice. He sounded great on the phone. He. 
picked me up at her house and he had 
on a dog collar and one of those earrings 
with a chain that went from his nose to 
his ear so if he snapped his head too far 
his earlobe would rip. And he was about 
6'8". The worst date I've ever had. If 
he had passed out in the middle of the. 
street, I'm not sure I would have woken 
him up. I probably would have just said 
goodbye. 


20. 


PLAYBOY: Will you stay with the show? 
MARGULIES: If 1 can keep doing my two 
films a year, and do ER, yes. I love my 
character, but I have to be able to go off 
and do another character in order to 
keep her fresh. The producers are very 
understanding of that. I try to pick in- 
teresting projects. Ninety-eight percent 
of the Screen Actors Guild is unem- 
ployed. What am I going to do, com- 
plain? I don't think so. 


BRAIN DROPPINGS 
(continued from page 128) 
Some Favorite Euphemisms 


(euphemisms actually observed) 

blow job: holistic massage therapy 

cheap hotel: limited-service lodging 

loan-sharking: interim financing 

kidnapping: custodial interference 

mattress and box spring: sleep system 

shack job: live-in companion 

truck stop: travel plaza 

used videocassette: previously viewed 
cassette 

wife beating: intermittent explosive. 
disorder 

theater: performing-arts center 

manicurist: nail technician 

nude beach: clothing-optional beach 

peephole: observation port. 

baldness: acquired uncombable hair 

body bags: remains pouches 

drought: deficit water situation 

recession: a meaningful downturn in 
aggregate output 

in love: emotionally involved 

room clerk: guest-service agent 


Even More Favorite Euphemisms 


bad loans: nonperforming assets 

ness: motion discomfort 

ga nontraditional organized crime 

“ушап deaths: collateral damage 

gambling joint: gaming resort 

mole: beauty mark 

garbage collection: environmental 
services 

breast: white meat 

thigh: dark meat 

sludge: biosolids 

genocide: ethnic deansing 

Jeep: sports utility vehicle 

library: learning resources center 

junk mail: direct marketing 

soda jerk: fountain attendant 

soldiers and weapons: military assets 

third floor: level three 

illegal immigrant: guest worker 

Jet Ski: personal watercraft 

loafers: slip-ons 


More Favorite Oxymorons 


mandatory options 
mutual differences 
nondairy creamer 
open secret 
resident alien 
silent alarm 

sport sedan 
wireless cable 
mercy killing 
lethal assistance (Contra aid) 
business ethics 
friendly fire 
genuine veneer 
full-time day care 
death benefits 

holy war 


YOUR BASIC HANGOUT 


Basic 


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Fuck You, I Like These Kinds of Jokes 


Anticlimax: What my uncle was good 
at. 

Chess: The piece movement. 

Seersucker: A person who blows clair- 
voyants. 

Passing gear: Clothing worn by light- 
skinned blacks who wish to be thought of 
as white. 

Outspoken: When you lose a debate. 

Hormone: The sound a prostitute 
makes so that you'll think you're a real 
good fuck. 

Drug traffic: Driving to your connec- 
tion's house. 


Sex drive: Similar to drug traffic, but 
with a different destination. 

Douche: A female duke. 

Octopus: An eight-sided vagina. 

‘Trampoline: Sexual lubricant popular 
with sluts. 

Parakeet: A keet that takes care of you 
until the real keet arrives. 

Pussyfoot: Rare female birth defect re- 
quiring the use of open-toed shoes. 

Beer nuts: The official disease of 
Milwaukee. 

Cotton balls: The final stage of beer 
nuts. 

Cowhand: An occupational disability 
common among dairy farmers. 


чле Wine S 


“Nou, this is quite an interesting one.” 


Woodpecker: A 17th century prosthet- 
ic device. 

Leatherette: A short sadomasochist. 

Cap pistol: A small gun that can be 
hidden in your hat. 

Attila the hon: A gay barbarian. 


Killer Comic 


It goes without saying that I’m not the 
only person who has noticed this, but I 
never got to spell it out before in my own 
way. Comedy's nature has two sides. 
Everybody wants a good time and a cou- 
ple of laughs, and, of course, the comic 
wants to be known as a real funny guy. 
But the language of comedy is fairly 
grim and violent. It’s filled with punch 
lines, gags and slapstick. After all, what 
does a comic worry most about? Dying! 
He doesn't want to die. 

“Jeez, 1 was dying. It was like death out 
there. Like a morgue. I really bombed.” 

Comics don’t want to die, and they 
don’t want to bomb. They want to go 
over with a bang. And be a real smash. 
And if everything works out, if they're 
successful and they make you laugh, 
they can say, “I killed "em. I slaughtered 
those people. I knocked them dead.” 

And what phrases does the audience 
use when they talk about the comic? 
“He's a riot.” “A real scream.” “A rib- 
splitting knee-slapper.” “My sides hurt.” 
“My cheeks ache.” “He broke me up, 
cracked me up, slayed me, fractured me 
and had me in stitches.” “I busted a gut.” 
“I get a real kick out of that guy.” 

“Laugh? I thought I'd dic." 


The Pre Epidemic 


Preboard, prescreen, prerecord, pre- 
taped, preexisting, preorder, preheat, 
preplan, pretest, precondition, preregis- 
ter. In nearly all of these cases you can 
drop the pre and not change the mean- 
ing of the word. 

“The suicide film was not prescreened 
by the school.” No, of course not. It was 
screened. 

“You can call and prequalify for a loan 
over the phone. Your loan is preap- 
proved." Well, if my loan is approved be- 
fore I call, then no approval is necessary. 
The loan is simply available. 


Name It Like It Is 


The words fire department make it 
sound as if firefighters are the ones who 
are starting the fires, doesn't it? It should 
be called the extinguishing department. 
We don't call the police the crime de- 
partment. Also, bomb squad sounds like 
a terrorist gang. The same is true of 
wrinkle cream. Doesn't it sound like it 
causes wrinkles? And why would a doc- 
tor prescribe pain pills? 1 already have 
pain! I nccd rclicf pills! 


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(continued from page 96) 
erections. Pfizer began tests to turn the 
drug into an crection pill, cventual- 
ly trying it out on thousands of volun- 
teers in the U.K., US. and Australia. 
The Pfizer pill has become the most 
widely watched of the oral drugs in 
development. 

“There's been quite a response in the 
test-patient population," says Pl 
spokeswoman Kate Robins with consid- 
erable understatement. Various studies 
have already shown that sildenafil, 
which Pfizer is marketing under the 
name Viagra, has improved erections in 
88 percent to 92 percent of the men 
tested, no matter the cause of their af 
fliction. In one test, most men got an 
erection within 19 minutes after they 
popped the pills. 

Pfizer plans to submit test data to the 
FDA sometime in 1997, Robins says, 
though she repeats the routine industry 
caution that “a drug can crash and burn 
at any time.” Knowledgeable people in 
the industry cite government regulators’ 
questioning tests or unexpected side ef- 
fects as reasons why a drug never makes 
it to market. So far, says Robins and in- 
dependent researchers familiar with the 
testing, side effects have been limited to 
a few cases of headaches, flushing and 
nausea. 

Vasomax is the proposed trade name 
of another pill being developed to treat 
impotence, this one by Zonagen Inc. 
Based on phentolamine, one of the 
drugs currently used in an injectable 
form, Vasomax relaxes the smooth-mus- 
cle cells in the penis, allowing blood to 
rush in—even if through nervousness 
or other causes the man has released 
adrenaline. Adrenaline, which constricts 
the cells, kills erections. Zonagen recent- 
ly began final testing on Vasomax. 

Tap Pharmaceuticals, partly owned by 
health care giant Abbott Laboratories, is 
developing pill that could open a new 
front in the treatment of impotence. 
Tap's pill, based on apomorphine, is 
placed under the tongue, not swallowed. 
But the real difference is in how it works. 
While the other oral drugs—and injec 
tions and proposed creams, for that mat- 
ter—directly affect the crucial penile 
muscle cells, apomorphine operates on 
the brain. Just as parts of the brain influ- 
ence sight and hearing, others direct 
neurotransmitters that carry news of our 
urgent appetite to the penis, triggering 
an erection. Apomorphine works its 
wiles on one of these neurotransmitters. 
This intrigues researchers, because they 
know so little about such “centrally act- 
ing” drugs. Most research has been done 
on drugs that work directly on the penis. 

Goldstein, who is testing the Pfizer 
and Zonagen pills on his patients, ex- 
pects that both will make it to the mar- 


ketplace, with one brand being more 
effective with particular kinds of impo- 
tence than the other. 

Nyberg of the NIH is cautious but op- 
timistic about oral drugs. “We know we 
can get drugs that work on the heart and 
we know that we can get drugs that work 
on the prostate—and have minimal side 
effects elsewhere,” he says. “We're hope- 
ful that we can also tailor these drugs, 
which are now pretty broad in their ef- 
fects. I think eventually we will have an 
oral drug.” 

Gels and creams that are rubbed di- 
rectly on the penis are also being tested, 
though some researchers think that 
these treatments may have a more limit- 
ed market. The cream must penetrate 
several layers of skin and other tissue, 
which often means that the drug takes a 
roundabout route through the circulato- 
ry system. Researchers in one study of a 
cream that contained smooth muscle— 
relaxing drugs concluded that while the 
cream did bring out a bigger, better 
erection in most of the test subjects, it 
probably worked better for psychologi- 
cally impaired rather than for physically 
impaired patients. Other creams that 
have been tested consistently produced 
that legendary bedtime bane, a head- 
ache. Researchers also worry that with 
anything one rubs on the penis, there 
could be side effects for one's partner 
as well. 

“They haven't really worked,” says Dr. 
Arnold Melman, professor and chair- 
man of urology at Albert Einstein Col- 
lege of Medicine and Montefiore Med- 
ical Center in New York City. Dr. 
Melman, who has been a trailblazer in 
impotence research since 1971, is work- 
ing on what he considers a better idea: 
gene therapy. The concept is prelimi- 
nary but attractive. 

“We're proposing that we change the 
threshold of erections,” Melman says, 
“so that the [smooth muscles] will be 
more easily relaxed when sexual stimu- 
lus comes along.” This would be done by 
changing the “tone” of the penis—by 
regularly augmenting the genes that 
control the threshold at which smooth 
muscles in the penis relax, allowing 
blood to rush in, Conceivably, what Mel- 
man calls a “little packet of extra genes” 
might be needed only every three to six 
months, 

“It works in animals,” says Melman. 
“We don't know if it will work in people.” 
In Melman's animal studies, erections 
were significantly improved for up 
to three months with each treatment. 
“We think that’s the next big wave,” 
Melman says 


After the pills. 
е 


Мапу reputed therapies that аге pas- 
sionately discussed in locker rooms have 
few admirers among researchers, even 
though some doctor may have endorsed 


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PLAYBOY 


154 


them. Trazodone, for instance, an anti- 
depressant drug, can produce an erec- 
tion as one of its side effects, notes 
Melman, but a recent study has shown it 
to be not much more effective than a 
placebo—in effect, no more useful than 
wishful thinking. Likewise yohimbine, 
an extract from the bark of an African 
tree, widely considered to be an aphro- 
disiac, does a lot for male rats. In the 
decade or so that it has been available 
over the counter, plenty of men believe 
they have been helped by it too. Yet the 
few careful studies on humans have been 
disappointing, particularly compared 
with more conventional therapies. In its 
guidelines to treating physical impo- 
tence, issued in November 1996, the 
AUA found a success rate for yohimbine 
so low—less than 25 percent—that it is 
statistically indistinguishable from a sug- 
ar pill. 

Hormones are another hot topic. 
Urologists agree that testosterone imbal- 
ances can hurt the libido—that street- 
car of sexual desire—but testosterone 
doesn't much affect erections per se. Al- 
so, testosterone problems are actually 
rare and easily diagnosed with standard 
tests. While testosterone was once be- 
lieved in medical circles to be a major 
factor in impotence, today it's practically 
a nonissue. 

So-called superhormones touted by 
some doctors—first melatonin and now 
DHEA—don't have many advocates 
among the advance guard of veteran im- 
potence researchers either. While they 
may help the old libido to feel better 
generally, no serious studies have shown 
that either of these hormones can help a 
guy with real erection problems. 

“There certainly are people out there, 
patients, who say, “Hey, this worked on 


те,” says Nyberg. “But how do we de- 
fine what their impotence was? What 
was the cause of it? We just don't have 
good data to say yes or no.” 

Goldstein is more blunt, as are other 
researchers. Few, if any, of the men who 
pass through Goldstein’s clinic are in- 
terested in fiddling with DHEA sup- 
plements when a shot—or now a pill— 
predictably delivers a hard, sometimes 
hours-long, guaranteed flag-waver. Gold- 
stein describes the DHEA frenzy as “one 
of the bigger scams on the planet.” 

. 


One winter day, as a blizzard flogs the 
streets of Boston, Goldstein is an ener- 
getic ringmaster, moving from one pa- 
tient to another in the X-ray department 
at Boston University Medical Center. To- 
day he's assessing tests of the hydraulic 
workings of the men's penises. He and 
the nurses and technicians use various 
diagnostic aids, including machines that 
patients take home at night to attach to 
their penises. The next day, a comput- 
er readout graphs the time, size and 
hardness (or softness) of any nocturnal 
erections. 

The tests today, however, are in- 
house. Many middle-aged and older 


men become impotent from years of 


smoking cigarettes, high blood pressure, 
high cholesterol or diabetes. But young 
men often lose their erections as a result 
of traumatic injuries to the groin. And 
it’s no small problem. Goldstein esti- 
mates that 600,000 American men are 
impotent from such accidents. 

‘Today Goldstein looks at young pa- 
tients who could be candidates for by- 
pass surgery, a treatment still in research 
and not yet fully endorsed by the AUA, 
which deems it “immature.” Indeed, the 


mati 


“Hold it, Clara. This is where we bring in my stuntman.” 


AUA recommends that bypasses be per- 
formed only in such research environ- 
ments as Goldstein's and Melman's. 

As many serious cyclists know (Gold- 
stein and his fellow researchers have in- 
terviewed more than a thousand cy- 
clists), a bad fall on the bike's center bar 
can crush major blood vessels needed to 
fill the penisand cause an erection. Even 
the pressure of a bike's seat over time, 
for regular 100-mile riders, can foul up 
vital arteries down there. 

Yet if everything else in the penis is 
working correctly, a bypass to restore 
blood flow can potentially fix the prob- 
lem. Other conditions—such as hormon- 
al imbalances, true psychological impo- 
tence and some cases of neurological 
damage—are also likely candidates for a 
long-term cure. 

Goldstein's patients today are under- 
going the dynamic infusion cavernosom- 
etry and cavernosography examina- 
tion—better known around the office as 
the DICC (appropriately pronounced 
"dick") test. After they get a local anes- 
thetic, they are injected with drugs that 
produce an erection. Then various pro- 
cedures tell Goldstein if enough blood is 
coming in, if it's being properly trapped 
to maintain the erection and how the 
whole system is behaving. The details 
determine which therapies should work 
best for each patient. 

One 16-year-old martial arts competi- 
tor is sitting on a gurney, penis in hand, 
watching it gradually deflate after the 
test. An opponent in a match had twice 
kicked him hard in the groin. The 16- 
year-old gota laugh from the fans in the 
bleachers when he yelled at the guy, 
"Stop kicking me in the balls." But in the 
months afterward, he had no erections. 
From Goldstein, he gets relatively good 
news. Goldstein wants to wait a couple of 
years, until the young man has grown 
more, but he can probably be perma- 
nently repaired with an arterial bypass 
to bring more blood to his wand. 

A 27-year-old soccer player gets good 
news, too. He slipped and fell hard on a 
fence rail while retrieving a dead ball. 
Afterward, he went through a string of 
doctors who didn't know what to tell him. 
until one referred him to Goldstein. 
"You're a go!” Goldstein now reassures 
him in a happy, booming voice. Every- 
thing works in his system except the in- 
coming artery, which was crushed. An 
artery transferred from his stomach 
should bypass the obstruction and get 
his penis pumping up again. 

Not so for other men this day. 

Goldstein has been doing this surgery 
since 1981, trying to discover why it 
works in some cases but not in others. 
One fundamental has become gospel: If 
the erect penis leaks too much blood 
back out of the system, no bypass will re- 
store the erection. And the long, com- 
plex surgery isn't worth it. 


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Across the street at Boston Univer- 
sity's Center for Advanced Biomedical 
Research, researcher Robert Moreland 
spends his time trying to understand the 
critical ratio of smooth-muscle to con- 
nective tissue necessary for an erection. 
When there's too much connective tis- 
sue, the erectile chambers leak. By test- 
ing different drugs and environments 
on cultures of smooth-muscle cells 
grown from tissue removed during im- 
plant operations, Moreland and his col- 
leagues hope, ultimately, to be able to 
find ways to restore a healthy balance. 
"We can't fix that nov," says Moreland. 
"But we're getting there." 

‘That may not be soon enough for 
Goldstein's next patient, a 28-year-old 
fisherman who slipped and straddled 
the rail of a boat. Sadly, he gets the 
news that liis leaking can't be fixed with 
surgery. His best hope now is the nee- 
dle—and if that doesn't work, an im- 
plant. “I feel very bad telling you all 
this," says Goldstein, as tears well in the 
young man's eyes. "This is a problem 
that is permanent." 

But far from hopeless, as Goldstein's 
patients who have taken first injections, 
and now the pill, point out, What makes 
longer-term patients grumpy these days, 
in fact, is that the new oral drugs aren't 
on the market yet. Afier Pfizer's earliest. 
tests of Viagra were completed in Eng- 
land, the test subjects petitioned the 
company to be allowed to stay on the 
pill. The men in Goldstein's test groups 
who are nearing the end of their pro- 
grams—and facing a return to the nec- 
dle or other treatments until one or 
more oral drugs get FDA approval—are 
no happier. 

A former Army MP and law enforce- 
ment veteran admits that for him, the 
pill doesn't give as hard, or lasting, an 
erection as the injection. "But it's a lot 
more comfortable,” he laughs. “It's a big 
joke between my girlfriend and me. She 
comes in with a glass and the two pills 
and says, ‘It’s time for your medica- 
tion.” He's also been stopped at Cus- 
toms when inspectors have found what 
looked like drug paraphernalia in his 
bags. Now at the beginning of a test se- 
ries, he's hoping approval comes by the 
time he's out of the program. 

A 42-year-old financial officer in a 
state agency, who damaged himself dur- 
ing a simple bedroom misstep with his 
wife (“she zigged and I zagged"), is not 
so optimistic. He has less than two 
months left with the test pills. And de- 
spite experience with needles as a fre- 
quent blood donor, he hasn't gotten 
used to injecting his own penis. 

"As for the pill's side effects," he sighs, 
"the primary one is anxiety—knowing 
that you're at the end of the testing, and 
that you could be getting kicked out of 
the program shortly." 


ADULTERY 


(continued from page 120) 
allergy. That means she cannot wear 
perfume on any night you see her. That 
works well with longtime affairs. But 
sometimes opportunity presents itself— 
however briefly. If you're talking about a 
one-night stand here, then you may 
have to be resourceful. 

One guy I know worked up a sweat 
with a woman who wore a considerable 
amount of Calvin Klein's Eternity. He 
was panicked, until a brilliant thought. 
occurred to him. He stopped off at a self- 
serve gas station and quickly doused his 
pants leg with gas. "The gas tank over- 
flowed on me," he complained to his 
wife as he walked in the front door. Tak- 
ing one whiff, she screamed, “Get in the 
shower, quick!” Whew, close one, but give 
him a cigar for fast thinking. 

Thank God for cigars. You can always 
do what another one of my pals does af- 
ter he's been with his girlfriend and is 
afraid traces of her soap or shampoo or 
oils are on his clothes. He heads straight 
to a bar and has men blow cigarette and 
cigar smoke directly at his suit. 

It’s always practical to keep an extra 
pair of underwear in your trunk or of- 
fice. And it’s important to be a one-color 
guy. Ifyou leave the house in black box- 
ers from the Gap and proceed to get 
them messy during a rendezvous, and all 
you have in your trunk are white Calvin 
Klein briefs, yow're screwed the minute 
you get home and disrobe. Stay with 


e 


white. It's common. It’s easy. It's safe. 
And it could save your marriage. 

Whatever you do, never set up one of 
your male buddies with one of her female 
friends, This is a big mistake. The only 
cheaters who double-date are the char- 
acters in Goodfellas. Nothing good can 
happen on a double date, and there's 
absolutely nothing that can happen to 
heighten your pleasure with her. Things 
can only go sour. Here's how: 

First, you've already exposed yourself 
to two more people who know your oth- 
er life. They'll tell two people, and then 
they'll tell two people—and so on. Sec- 
ond, your friend will likely fall in love 
with the girl he's been set up with. This 
is common—there's no explanation for 
it, but it happens. And when it does, 
watch out. One day he'll take you aside 
and tell you; “You know, you really can't. 
keep doing this to her. She really loves 
you. It’s time you made a decision to 
leave your wife or break it off." 

“This actually happened to me," one 
friend said. "And I looked at him like, 
Are you out of your fucking mind? 
When did you get so righteous? This is 
me you're talking to." But it's not all your 
buddy's fault. What's happening is that 
your girlfriend is pouring her heart out 
to his girlfriend, and she's telling him 
and he's telling you. To quote Robert De 
Niro's warning to Ray Liotta in Goodfel- 
las, when Liotta's screen wife is threaten- 
ing to blow the whistle on De Niro's 
carousing: “I can't have her commiser- 
ating with my wife. I can't have it. You 


“Perhaps, after all, we should opt for the larger, somewhat 
more costly portrait.” 


155 


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gotta take her back." Commiseration has 
been happening since the first grade. 
The only difference is that in the first 
grade it causes you embarrassment in 
front of your friends. When you're mar- 
ried, you lose half your carnings, the 
sports car and the Hamptons summer 
home. Friends can kill you; a best friend 
can do it better than anybody else. 

As far as breaking up with her is con- 
cerned, remember: You have to get away 
smoothly and not feed her resentment. 
"I wanted to say that my son was deathly 
ill or something, but then I couldn't be- 
cause I thought God would punish me 
and really make my son deathly ill," a 
friend said. 

“I tried everything," another pal said. 
“1 was grouchy. I was ambivalent. I kept 
ducking out of dates at the last minute. 
Finally she said to me, ‘If you don't want 
to see me anymore, you don’t have to 
pick a fight with me. Just leave.’ She 
made it so easy.” 

He was lucky. It's not always that easy. 
One guy told me that his ex-girlfriend 
actually rented an apartment in a build- 
ing right next door to him and his wife. 
He never knows what he’s coming home 
to. And his wife often asks, “How come 
you won't even look at the new neigh- 
bor?” Oh, I don't know, maybe because 
she kept the Polaroid collection! 

For acertain type of man, breaking up 
with her doesn't mean he’s reformed. It 
merely means he's between affairs. And 
not all husbands cheat, of course. Some 
are guilty of no more than an infrequent 
one-night stand, followed by sleepless 
nights steeped in guilt. 

Other men, like my friends at the 
table, can’t help themselves. You know 
the type. He sits at home admiring his 
kids and telling his wife, “I love you. I 
couldn't imagine living without you.” 
The next night he’s saying the same 
thing to his girlfriend. 

Why do they take such chances? One 
member of our roundtable tried to ex- 
plain by telling the story of the scorpion 
and the frog. 

A scorpion is trying to persuade a frog 
to give him a lift across a fast-moving 
stream. “I can't do that,” protests the 
frog. “You'll sting me and I'll dic." 

“Don't be ridiculous," coaxes the scor- 
pion. “If I kill you. I'll drown. Why 
would I do that?” 

The frog succumbs to the scorpion's 
logic and starts swimming with the scor- 
pion riding comfortably on its back 
About halfvay through their watery 
journey, the scorpion stings the frog, in- 
jecting it with a fatal dose of poison 

“Why?” gasps the frog during its last 
seconds of consciousness. "You have 
doomed us both." 

"I couldn't help it," says the scorpion. 


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OKLAHOMA CITY oen 


McVeigh had loaded 20 50-pound bags of fertilizer 
by 6:30 a.m., when Nichols drove up. 


Records indicate he obtained a KKK 
membership card. 

McVeigh was living with his sister Pat- 
ty and her family in Fort Lauderdale, 
Florida in early 1993. He claimed he 
worked briefly as an electrician. He also 
toured gun shows, selling weapons and 
military items. That was his main voca- 
tion until the day of the bombing. 

McVeigh describes himself as de- 
pressed and frustrated during this time. 
Despite a two-week affair he claims to 
have had with a marricd woman shortly 
before leaving New York, McVeigh, ac- 
cording to investigators, had not “found 
a love in his life." 

During a Miami gun show McVeigh 
met Roger Moore, a gun collector from 
Royal, Arkansas. Almost two ycars af- 
ter their meeting, someone broke into 
Moore's house and stole $60,000 worth 
of guns, cash, coins and bullion. (Mc- 
Veigh was reportedly at a gun show in 
Ohio at the time of the theft.) The gov- 
ernment claims that McVeigh and Nich- 
ols “caused” the robbery in order to fi- 
nance the bombing. 

While McVeigh was in Florida, federal 
agents invaded the Branch Davidian 
compound in Waco, Texas. When the 
first shoot-out was broadcast on CNN on 
February 28, 1993, McVeigh didn't hear 
the accompanying narration and didn't 
know the implications of what was hap- 
pening. But he saw the footage of ATF 


agents climbing onto the roof and falling. 
down as they were shot. 

McVeigh recounts that he turned to 
Patty, who was watching the broadcast 
with him, and said, “Well, they must 
be doing something right. They are kill- 
ing feds." 

In March 1993 McVeigh went west to 
Arizona. On his way, he drove by Waco, 
where a standoff had developed between 
the Branch Davidians and the govern- 
ment. McVeigh approached a roadblock 
about five miles from the compound. He 
said that ATF agents and U.S. marshals 
would not let him pass. That they would 
block a “public road" infuriated him. 
Nationwide roadblocks and checkpoints 
were supposedly a sign that the New 
World Order was beginning its enslave- 
ment of the U.S. population. Internal 
passports—or even tattoos—would soon 
be required of travelers. 

Alter a brief stay with Fortier in King- 
man, Arizona, McVeigh went in the 


spring of 1993 to Decker, Michigan and 


joined his other Army buddy, Terry 


Nichols, and Terry's brother, James. Ac- 
cording to McVeigh, the three stayed at 
Nichols’ farm and discussed the Waco 
raid. They decided to go to Waco and 
start a rally. On April 19, as McVeigh was 
changing the oil in his car, James yelled 
from the house. The Branch Davidian 
compound had caught fire. 

McVeigh watched the flames rise and 


consume nearly all the people inside. He 
watched the Branch Davidian flag catch 
fire and flutter away in ashes. His worst 
fears about the government were con- 
firmed when the ATF raised its flag at 
half-mast over the smoldering ruins. 

е 


McVeigh said the decision to “go оп 
the offensive” was made before August 
1994. A bomb would be made. Roger 
Moore's house would be burglarized to 
finance the building of the bomb. (Mc- 
Veigh cased Moore's house in Septem- 
ber.) By the end of September, McVeigh 
had more than 4000 pounds of ammoni- 
um nitrate fertilizer in various storage 
facilities. Nitromethane racing fuel was 
bought from several racetracks. (Accord- 
ing to the defense document, at one 
racetrack in Texas McVeigh said he 
bought three drums of nitromethane for 
$900 cash per drum. The seller didn't 
ask for a name. McVeigh claims to have 
found the source for nitromethane by 
hanging around funny-car pit areas. He 
was also offered 55-gallon drums of the 
fuel for $1000 a drum from a source in 
Manhattan, Kansas.) He obtained plastic 
barrels in Florence, Kansas: six black 
ones with full-size lids, six white ones 
with smaller lids and one blue barrel. 
"The white barrels were free at the Hills- 
boro Milk Co-op and the black ones cost 
$12 each. That fall McVeigh and Terry 
Nichols also allegedly broke into a Mar- 
tin Marietta quarry in Marion, Kansas 
and stole 300 sticks of dynamite and 600 
blasting caps. 

McVeigh drove to Arizona in October 
with the stolen explosives, but Fortier 
hadn't yet rented a storage shed for 
them—a job he had apparently agreed 
to do. As a result, McVeigh had to find 
someplace else to store them. 

There was a strong kinship between 
McVeigh, his dropout Army buddy and 
his wife, Lori. McVeigh spent Thanks- 
giving 1989 at Fortier's house, meeting 
Fortier's mother, Irene. McVeigh lived 
with the Fortiers off and on for more 
than a year. According to McVeigh, they 
did drugs together on a regular basis, in- 
cluding crystal meth and pot. 

In May and August 1994, McVeigh 
claims he set off small bombs with Lori 
and Mike Fortier in the Arizona desert. 
In July 1994 McVeigh had been best 
man at Mike and Lori's wedding. Lori 
supposedly became angry with McVeigh 
in August 1994 when McVeigh sold $180 
worth of explosives to Mike, so McVeigh 
spent some time with Terry Nichols in 
Kansas, buying fertilizer. 

In mid-December 1994 McVeigh and 
Fortier left Kingman for Council Grove, 
Kansas, the location of one of their stor- 
age sheds. They decided to take a side 
tour to Oklahoma City to check out the 
Murrah building. 

McVeigh told investigators he had al- 
ready decided against placing a bomb in 


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SOLVING THE PUZZLE 

These previously unpublished 
photogrophs were taken by a vet- 
eron Oklahoma police officer who 
worked on the search-and-rescue 
effort at the bomb site. Eight days 
after the blast, ATF ogents pre- 
pored o mock-up of the truck 
bomb in o lot one block northeast 
of the Alfred P. Murroh Federal 
Building. The Ryder truck used in 
the bombing, with a 20-foot bed, 
corried o three-ton bomb. A secu- 
rity comera recorded an image of 
the truck in front of the building 
just before the explosion. 


HOW THE BOMB WAS BUILT 


This eerie truck interior was set up 
by the ATF on April 27, 1995 to 
show the most likely way the 
bomb was constructed. These 
plastic borrels probobly formed 
the core, though the exoct config- 
urotion remains uncertain. Timo- 
thy McVeigh had been gathering 
components since September 
1994, buying ommonium nitrate 
fertilizer, diesel fuel, heating oil 
ond nitromethane from vorious 
sources around the country. Deto- 
noting cord allegedly was stolen 
from o gravel quarry in Morion 
County, Kansas. 


FIRST PIECE OF EVIDENCE 


The force of the explosion blew 
the reor oxle of the Ryder truck 
about 400 feet west of the bomb. 
site. “1 could see and hear on ob- 
ject coming, moking that whizzing 
sound like a boomerang,” said 
one occupant of the cor pictured 
ot left. The axle housing, which hit 
the Ford Festivo, bore a vehicle 
identification number thot investi- 
gotors used to troce the truck to 
Elliott's Body Shop, o Ryder rentol 
outlet in Junction City, Konsas. 
The truck's front oxle wos found a 
block eost of the bomb site. 


TOTAL DEVASTATION 

A firemon stands with two Okla- 
homo City K-9 policemen ot the 
front of the Murroh building. Trees 
can be seen through the remain- 
ing skeleton. The explosion wos 
felt 40 miles owoy and left a 
crater 30 feet wide and eight feet 
deep. In downtown Oklahomo 
City, 337 buildings were damaged 
by the bomb. Broken gloss rained 
from the sky for five minutes after 
the blast. Of the 168 people killed 
by the bomb, 19 were children. 


159 


PLAYBOY 


Kansas City or in Little Rock. He and 
Nichols looked for a federal building in 
Dallas while buying nitromcthanc at a 
racetrack, but the phone book showed 
no single federal building. They selected 
Oklahoma City instead. 

McVeigh and Fortier drove around 
the Murrah building twice, then went 
through a side alley and parked in the 
lot across the street, They sat there and 
stared at the nine-story structure. Forti- 
er told McVeigh the elevator shaft would 
keep the building from collapsing com- 
pletely. They spoke for a few minutes, 
but McVeigh's friend became nervous. 
“Let's leave,” Fortier said, and they did. 

"They returned to Kansas and rented a 
gray sedan (McVeigh says it was a Chevy 
Caprice, but other sources indicate it was 
a Ford Crown Victoria) at the airport in 
Manhattan for Fortier to drive home in. 
They took the car to the Council Grove 
storage shed and packed up 30 stolen 
guns. McVeigh told Fortier he could 
keep 50 percent of the profit. They part- 
ed, McVeigh going to a friend's house 
in Michigan and Fortier going back to 
Kingman in the rental car. As McVeigh 
headed to Michigan, his car—carrying 
the blasting caps in the trunk—was rear- 
ended. The caps didn't explode. 

Back in Arizona, as the date selected 
for the bombing got closer, McVeigh says 
Fortier became reluctant to participate. 
Finally, on April 5, 1995, the two drove 
into the desert to talk. Fortier told Mc- 
Veigh he couldn't go through with the 
bombing. McVeigh kept to his plan and 
returned to Kansas. 

On April 13, 1995, as McVeigh was 
driving to Geary State Fishing Lake in 
Kansas in order to find a place to build 
the bomb, the Pontiac station wagon he 
had bought from James Nichols blew 
a head gasket. McVeigh remained one 
night at Geary, then managed to get the 
car to a garage the next day. At Tom 
Manning's Firestone in Junction City 
he traded the Pontiac, plus $250, for 
the 1977 yellow Mercury Marquis that 
would be the getaway car. He switched li- 
cense plates, screwing his original one 
on the Marquis “nice and solid, two 
screws right on top," he said. 

On April 15 McVeigh paid for the Ry- 
der truck he would use in the bombing, 
then drove the Marquis to Oklahoma 
City on Faster Sunday, April 16. He was, 
according to the document, followed by 
Terry Nichols in an unspecified vehicle. 
He parked the car at a parking lot he 
had picked out previously. 

When he dropped off the car, he took 
the license plate off the rear bumper 
(Oklahoma doesn't require front plates), 
then backed the car close to a wal 
left a note inside the front windshield, 
covering the vehicle identification num- 
ber on the dash, asking that the car 
not be towed. Nichols wasn’t there, so 
McVeigh walked up the street toward the 


160 Murrah building. At NW Sixth and 


Broadway, the document claims Mc- 
Veigh saw Nichols. Nichols stopped in 
the middle of the strect, picked up Mc- 
Veigh and drove him back to Kansas. 
The document also notes that the two 
stopped at a McDonald's in Arkansas 
City, Kansas. 
. 


Early on the morning of the 18th, 
McVeigh waited for Nichols in Hering- 
ton, Kansas, but Nichols didn't show. 
McVeigh drove to the storage shed and 
began to load the empty barrels. Then 
he loaded seven boxes of gel, which 
weighed 50 pounds each. McVeigh had 
loaded 20 50-pound bags of fertilizer 
by 6:30 a.m., when Nichols drove up. 
Nichols wanted to wait until sunrise to 
finish, but McVeigh said no. Nichols 
helped McVeigh load 70 50-pound bags 
of fertilizer and three 55-gallon drums 
of nitromethane. McVeigh then drove 
the Ryder truck to Geary Lake. Nichols 
arrived separately and the two began to 
mix the components: seven 50-pound 
bags of fertilizer and seven 20-pound 
buckets of nitromethane for each 55-gal- 
lon drum. They weighed the buckets on 
a bathroom scale. According to the docu- 
ment, a couple arrived with their boat 
about ten A.M. approximately 50 yards 
from where McVeigh and Nichols were 
preparing the bomb. The couple stayed 
for an hour trying to decide whether or 
not to put their boat in the water. 

When they finished, Nichols nailed 
down the barrel lids and McVeigh 
changed clothes and gave Nichols his 
dirty clothes to dispose of. Nichols also 
took the 90 empty fertilizer bags. The 
rest of the tools were placed in with the 
bomb. Nichols shook McVeigh's hand 
and wished him luck. At noon, according 
to the document, McVeigh drove the 
truck out of the park. 

. 


McVeigh says that he was about 20 feet 
behind the YMCA on Robinson, almost 
to the parking lot, when the bomb went 
off at 9:02 A.M. on April 19. The explo- 
sion threw him against the wall of the 
building. He stepped over a fallen pow- 
er line and continued down the alley, 
pulling out his earplugs as he did so. He 
was still wearing his baseball cap. 

He crossed Broadway and continued 
east. Broken glass crunched beneath his 
feet. Nearly every window in downtown 
Oklahoma City was shattered. McVeigh 
crossed under the Santa Fe Railroad 
tracks that divide Oklahoma City’s west 
side from its east side. 

‘As he approached the building where 
he had parked his car, McVeigh met a 
mail deliyery man who looked at him 
and said: “Man, for a second ! thought 
that was us that blew up.” 

“Yeah, so did 1,” McVeigh said. He 
walked on and passed another building, 
where the owner of a shop stood looking 


at his shattered storefront. Finally Mc- 
Veigh reached his car. 

He checked the Mercury over, un- 
locked it and got in. He put the key in 
the ignition and tried to start it. The mo- 
tor hesitated for half a minute before it 
started. McVeigh sat calmly for another 
half a minute, hearing the sirens of po- 
lice cars responding to the explosion. He 
slid the transmission into drive. But it 
didn't catch at first. He hit the gas, and 
the transmission caught. By his account, 
he drove out of the lot and through the 
alley to Eighth and Oklahoma. At Broad- 
way and NW Seventh Street he had to 
wait for police cars to pass. He went up 
Broadway to NW Tenth. He crossed 
over the highway. Then he pulled out 
onto 1-235. He headed north on 235 to 
1-35 and was on his way back to Kansas. 

Shortly after ten a.m. an Oklahoma 
state trooper came flying up behind 
McVeigh. When he got beside McVeigh, 
he slowed down. Then the police cruiser 
slowed further and the officer turned on 
his overhead lights. McVeigh pulled 
over and rolled down his window. But 
the trooper motioned McVeigh to come 
back. McVeigh walked to the cruiser. 

Trooper Charlie Hanger asked Mc- 
Veigh a few questions. At one point Mc- 
Veigh said he was driving cross-country. 
Hanger thought it odd that McVeigh was 
wearing a jacket. Then Hanger noticed a 
bulge under the jacket. 

“You don't have to worry about it," 
McVeigh said. Hanger put a gun to 
McVeigh's head, then disarmed him, 
read him his Miranda rights, handcuffed 
him and transported him to the Noble 
County jail in Perry, Oklahoma. 

He was arrested on a misdemeanor 
charge for carrying a concealed weapon. 
But that was all McVeigh had done at 
that point, as far as Hanger could tell. 
The officer booked him in around 11 
AM. McVeigh still had the earplugs in his 
possession when he was arrested. 

McVeigh's name came up on the na- 
tional crime index computer. The rec- 
ord showed he'd recently been booked 
into jail. McVeigh was minutes away 
from being released when the call came 
in from the ATF. 

McVeigh was perhaps tripped up by 
his paranoia. Had he not taken off that 
license plate (presumably he did it so his 
car wouldn't be identified at the crime 
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BLACK MILL 


(continued from page 90) 

“You shouldn't be here, buddy," he 
said, not unkindly. 

I felt myself go numb. I had been 
caught. 

"What? Oh, no, I—I x 

The whistle blew. The crowd of men, 
swelled now to more than a hundred, 
jerked to life and waited, nervous, on the 
balls of their feet, for the gates to open. 
The man with the yellow hair seemed to 
forget me. In the distance an equally 
large crowd of men emerged from the 
belly of the mill and headed toward us. 
There was a grinding of old machinery, 
the creak of stressed iron, and then the 
ornamental gates rolled away. The next 
instant I was caught up in the tide of 
men streaming toward the mill, borne 
along like a cork. Halfway there our 
group intersected with the graveyard 
shift and in the ensuing chaos of bodies 
and hellos 1 was sure my plan was going 
to work. I was going to see, at last, the in- 
side of the mill. 

I felt something, someone's fingers, 
brush the back of my neck, and then I 
was yanked backward by the collar of my 
coat. I lost my footing and fell to the 
ground. As the changing shifts of work- 
ers flowed around me I looked up and 
saw a huge man standing over me. his 
arms folded across his chest. He was 
wearing a black jacket emblazoned on 
the breast with a large M. I tried to 
stand, but he pushed me back down. 

“You can just stay right there until the 
police come,” he said 

“Listen,” I said. My research, clearly, 
was at an end. My scholarly privileges 
would be revoked. I would creep back to 
Boston, where, of course, my committee 
and, above all, my chair would recom- 
mend that I quit the department. “You 
don't have to do that.” 

Once more I tried to stand, and this 
time the company guard threw me back 
to the ground so hard and so quickly 
that I couldn’t break my fall with my 
hands. The back of my head slammed 
against the pavement. A passing worker 
stepped on my outstretched hand. I 
cried out. 

“Hey,” said a voice. “Come on, Moe. 
You don't need to treat him that way.” 

It was the sad-eyed man with the yel- 
low hair. He interposed himself between 
me and my attacker. 

"Don't do this, Ed," said the guard. 

Il have to write you up.” 
I rose shakily to my feet and started to 
stumble away, back toward the gates. 
"The guard tried to reach around Fd, to 
grab hold of me. As he lunged forward, 
Ed stuck out his foot, and the guard 
went sprawling. 

"Come on, professor," said Ed, putting 
his arm around me. "You better get out 
of here." 

“Do I know you?" I said, leaning 


gratefully on him. 

"No, but you know my nephew, Dex- 
ter. He pointed you out to me at the pic- 
tures one night." 

“Thank you," I said, when we reached 
the gate. He brushed some dust from 
the back of my coat, handed me the knit 
stocking cap, then took a black bandan- 
na from the pocket of his dungarees. He 
touched a corner of it to my mouth, and 
it came away marked with a dark stain. 

“Only a little blood," he said. "You'll 
be all right. You just make sure to stay 
clear of this place from now on.” Hc 
brought his face close to mine, filling my 
nostrils with the sharp medicinal tang of 
his aftershave. He lowered his voice to a 
whisper. “And stay off the beer.” 

"What?" 

“Just stay off it.” He stood up straight 
and returned the bandanna to his back 
pocket. “I haven't taken a sip in two 
weeks.” I nodded, confused. I had bcen 
drinking two, three, sometimes four bot- 
des of Indian Ring every night, finding 
that it carried me effortlessly into pro- 
found and dreamless sleep. 

“Just tell me one thing,” I said. 

“I can't say nothing else, professor." 

“It's just—what is it you do, in there?" 

“Me?” he said, pointing to his chest. “I 
operate a sprue extruder.” 

“Yes, yes,” 1 said, “but what does a 
sprue extruder do? What is it for?” 

He looked at me patiently but a little 
remotely, a distracted parent with an in- 
quisitive child. 

“It’s for extruding sprues,” he said. 
“What else?” 

. 


Thus repulsed, humiliated and given 
good reason to fear that my research was 
in imminent jeopardy of being brought 
to an end, I resolved to put the mystery 
of the mill out of my mind once and for 
all and get on with my real business in 
Plunkettsburg. I went out to the site of 
the mound complex and worked with 
my brush and little hand spade all 
through that day, until the light failed. 
When I got home, exhausted, Mrs. Ei- 
bonas brought me a bottle of Indian 
Ring and I gratefully drained it before I 
remembered Ed's strange warning. I 
handed the sweating bottle back to Mrs. 
Eibonas. She smiled. 

"Can I bring you another, professor?" 
she said. 

"No, thank you," I said. Her smile col- 
lapsed. She looked very disappointed. 
“All right,” she said. For some reason the. 
thought of disappointing her bothered 
me greatly, so I told her, "Maybe one 
more." 

I retired early and dreamed dreams 
that were troubled by the scratching of 
iron on earth and by a clamoring tumult 
of men. The next morning I got up and 
went straight out to the site again. 

For it was going to take work, a lot of 
work, if my theory was ever going to 


bear fruit. During much of my first sev- 
eral months in Plunkettsburg I had been 
hampered by snow and by the degree 
to which the site of the Plunkettsburg 
Mounds—a broad plateau on the east 
ern slope of Mount Orrert, on which 
there had been excavated, in the 1890s, 
36 huge molars of packed earth, each 
the size of a two-story house—had been 
picked over and disturbed by that ear- 
ly generation of archaeologists. Their 
methods had not in every case been as 
fastidious as one could have hoped 
There were numerous areas of old dig- 
ging where the historical record had, 
through carelessness, been rendered il- 
legible. Then again, I considered, as 1 
gazed up at the ivy-covered flank of the 
ancient, artificial hillock my mentor had 
designated B-3, there was always the 
possibility that my theory was wrong. 
Like all the productions of academe, I 
suppose, my theory was composed of 
equal parts of indebtedness and spite. I 
had formulated it in a kind of rebellion 
against that grand old man of the field, 
my chairman, the very person who had 
inculcated me with a respect for the 
deep, subtle savagery of the Miskahan- 
nock Indians. His view—the standard 
one—was that the culture of the builders 
of the Plunkettsburg Mounds, at its 
zenith, had expressed, to a degree un- 
equaled in the Western hemisphere up 
to that time, the aestheticizing of the ni- 
hilist impulse. They had evolved all the 
elaborate social structures—texts, ritu- 
als, decorative arts, architecture—of any 
of the world’s great religions: dazzling 
feats of abstract design represented by 
the thousands of baskets, jars, bowls, 
spears, tablets, knives, flails, axes, codi- 
ces, robes and so on that were housed 
and displayed with such pride in the 
museum of my university, back in 
Boston. But the Miskahannocks, insofar 
as anyone had ever been able to deter- 
mine (and many had tried), worshiped 
nothing, or, as my teacher would have it, 
Nothing. They acknowledged neither 
gods nor goddesses, conversed with no 
spirits or familiars. Their only purpose, 
the focus and the pinnacle of their artis- 
tic genius, was the killing of men. No- 
body knew how many of the unfortunate 
males of the neighboring tribes had fall- 
en victim to the Miskahannocks’ delicate 
artistry of torture and dismemberment. 
In 1903 Professor William Waterman of 
Yale discovered 14 separate ossuary pits 
along the banks of the river, not far from 
the present site of the mill. These had 
contained enough bones to frame the 
bodies of 7000 men and boys. And no- 
body knew why they had died. The few 
tattered, fragmentary blood-on-tanbark 
texts so far discovered concerned them- 
selves chiefly with the recurring famines 
that plagued Miskahannock civilization 
and, it was generally theorized, had been 
responsible for its ultimate collapse. The 


texts said nothing about the sacred arts 
of killing and torture. There was, my 
teacher had persuasively argued, one 
reason for this. The deaths had been 
purposcless; their justification, the cos- 
mic purposelessness of life itself. 

Now, once 1 had settled myself on 
spiteful rebellion, as every good pupil 
eventually must, there were two possible 
paths available to me. The first would 
have been to attempt to prove beyond 
a doubr that the Miskahannocks had, 
in fact, worshiped some kind of god, 
some positive, purposive entity, however 
bloodthirsty. I chose the second path. I 
accepted the godlessness of the Miska- 
hannocks. I rejected the refined, reason- 
ing nihilism my mentor had postulat- 
ed (and to which, as I among very few 
others knew. he himself privately sub- 
scribed). The Miskahannocks, 1 hoped 
to prove, had had another motive for 
their killing: They were hungry; accord- 
ing to the tattered scraps of the Plun- 
kettsburg Codex, very hungry indeed. 
The filed teeth my professor subsumed 
to the larger aesthetic principles he elu- 
cidated thus had, in my view, a far sim- 
pler and more utilititarian purpose. Un- 
fortunately, the widespread incidence of 
cannibalism among the women of a peo- 
ple vanished 4000 years since was prov- 
ing rather difficult to establish. So far, in 
fact, I had found no evidence of it at all. 

I knelt to untie the canvas tarp I had 
stretched across my digging of the previ- 
ous day. I was endeavoring to take an in- 
clined section of B-3, cutting a passage 
five feet high and two feet wide at a 30 
degree angle to the horizontal. This en- 
deavor in itself was a kind of admission 
of defeat, since B-3 was one of two 
mounds, the other being its neighbor 
B-5, designated a “null mound” by those 
who had studied the site. It had been 
thoroughly pierced and penetrated and 
found to be utterly empty; reserved, it 
was felt, for the mortal remains of a dy- 
nasty that failed. But I had already made 
careful searches of the 34 other tombs 
of the Miskahannock queens. The null 
mounds were the only ones remaining. 
If, as I anticipated, I found no evidence 
of anthropophagy, I would have to give 
up on the mounds entirely and start 
looking elsewhere. There were persis- 
tent stories of other bone pits in the 
pleats and hollows of the Yuggoghenies. 
Perhaps I could find one, a fresh one, 
one not trampled and corrupted by the 
primitive methods of my professional 
forebears. 

I peeled back the sheet of oiled canvas 
I had spread across my handiwork and 
received a shock. The passage, which 
over the course of the previous day I had 
managed to extend a full four feet into 
the side of the mound, had been com- 
pletely filled in. Not merely filled in; the 
thick black soil had been tamped down 


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164 


and a makeshift screen of ivy had been 
drawn across it. I took a step back and 
looked around the site, certain all at 
once that I was being observed. There 
were only the crows in the treetops. In 
the distance I could hear the Murrough 
trucks on the tortuous highway, grind- 
ing gears as they climbed up out of the 
valley. 1 looked down at the ground by 
my feet and saw the faint imprint of a 
foot smaller than my own. A few feet 
from this, 1 found another. That was all. 

Ioughtto have been afraid, I suppose, 
or at the least concerned, but at this 
point, I confess, I was only angry. The 
site was heavily fenced and posted with 
NO TRESPASSING signs, but apparently 
some local hoodlums had come up in the 
night and wasted all of the previous 
days hard work. The motive for this 
vandalism eluded me, but I supposed 
that a lack of any discernible motive was 
in the nature of vandalism itself. I picked 
up my hand shovel and started in again 
on my doorway into the mound. The 
fifth bite I took with the little iron tooth 
brought out something strange. It was a 
black bandanra, twisted and soiled. 1 
spread it out across my thigh and found 
the small, round trace of my own blood 
on one corner. I was bewildered, and. 
again I looked around to see if some- 
one were watching me. There were only 
the laughter and ragged fingers of the 
crows. What was Ed up to? Why would 
my rescuer want to come up onto the 
mountain and ruin my work? Did he 
think he was protecting me? I shrugged, 
stuffed the bandanna into a pocket and 
went back to my careful digging. I 
worked steadily throughout the day, ex- 
tending the tunnel six inches nearer 
than I had come yesterday to the heart 


of the mound, then drove home to Mur- 
rough House, my shoulders aching, my 
fingers stiff. 1 had a long, hot soak in the 
big bathtub down the hall from my 
room, smoked a pipe and read, for the 
15th time at feast, the section in Miska- 
hannock Surveys dealing with B-3. Then 
at 6:30 I went downstairs to find Dexter 
Eibonas waiting to serve my dinner, his 
expression blank, his eyes bloodshot. I 
remember being surprised that he didn't 
immediately demand details of my day 
on the dig. He just nodded, retreated in- 
to the kitchen and returned with a heat- 
ed can of soup, half a loaf of white bread 
and a bottle of Ring. Naturally after my 
hard day I was disappointed by this fare, 
and I inquired as to the whereabouts of 
Mrs. Eibonas. 

“She had some family business, pro- 
fessor,” Dexter said, rolling up his hands 
in his tea towel, then unrolling them 
again. “Sad business.” 

“Did somebody—die?” 

“My uncle Ed,” said the boy, collaps- 
ing ina chair beside me and covering his 
twisted features with his hands. “He had 
an accident down at the mill, I guess. Fell 
headfirst into the impact mold.” 

“What?” I said, fecling my throat con- 
strict. “My God, Dexter! Something has 
to be done! That mill ought to be shut 
down!” 

Dexter took a step back, startled by my 
vehemence. 1 had thought at once, of 
course, of the black bandanna, and now 
I wondered if 1 were not somehow re- 
sponsible for Ed Eibonas' death. Perhaps 
the incident in the mill yard the day 
before, his late-night digging in the 
dirt of B-3 in some kind of misguided ef- 
fort to help me, had left him rattled, 
unable to concentrate on his work, prey 


“Goddamn it, Warren, you know it’s bad luck for the groom to see 
the bride before the ceremony!” 


to accidents. 

“You just don’t understand,” said Dex- 
ter. "It's our way of life here. There isn't 
anything for us but the mill.” He pushed 
the bottle of Indian Ring toward me. 
“Drink your beer, professor.” 

I reached for the glass and brought it 
to my lips but was swept by a sudden 
wave of revulsion like that which had 
overtaken me at the Chinese restaurant 
on my first night in town. I pushed back 
from the table and stood up, my vio- 
lent start upsetting a pewter candelabra 
in which four tapers burned. Dexter 
lunged to keep it from falling over, then 
looked at me, surprised. I stared back, 
chest heaving, feeling defiant without 
being sure of what exactly I was defying. 

"I am not going to touch another drop 
of that beer!” I said, the words sounding 
petulant and absurd as they emerged 
from my mouth. 

Dexter nodded. He looked worried. 

“All right, professor," he said, oblig- 
ingly, as if he thought I might have be- 
come unbalanced. "You just go on up to 
your room and lie down. I'll bring you 
your food a little later. How about that?" 

е 


The next day I lay in bed, aching, sore 
and suffering from that peculiar brand 
of spiritual depression born largely of 
suppressed fear. On the following morn- 
ing I roused myself, shaved, dressed in 
my best clothes and went to the Church 
of St. Stephen, on Nolt Street, the heart 
of Plunkettsburg's Estonian neighbor- 
hood, for the funeral of Ed Eibonas. 
"There was a sizable turnout, as was al- 
ways the case, I was told, when there had 
been a death at the mill. Such deaths 
were reportedly uncommon; the mill 
was a cruel and dangerous but rarely fa- 
tal place. At Dexter's invitation I went to 
the dead man’s house to pay my respects 
to the widow, and two hours later I 
found myself, along with most of the 
other male mourners, roaring drunk on 
some kind of fruit brandy brought out 
on special occasions. It may have been 
that the brandy burned away the jitters 
and anxiety of the past two days; in any 
case the next morning I went out to the 
mounds again, with a tent and a cook- 
stove and several bags of groceries. 1 
didn't leave for the next five days. 

My hole had been filled in again, and 
this time there was no clue to the identi- 
ty of the filler, but I was determined not 
to let this spook me, as the saying goes. 1 
simply dug. Ordinarily I would have 
proceeded cautiously, carrying the dirt 
out by thimblefuls and sifting each one, 
but I felt my time on the site growing 
short. I often saw cars on the access road 
by day, and headlight beams by night, 
slowing down as if to observe me. Twice 
а day a couple of sheriff's deputies 
would pull up to the Ring and sit in their 
car, watching. At first whenever they 


appeared, I stopped working, lit a ciga- 
rette and waited for them to arrest me. 
But when after the first few times noth- 
ing of the sort occurred, 1 relaxed a lit- 
de and kept on with my digging for the 
duration of their visit. I was resigned to 
being prevented from completing my 
research, but before this happened I 
wanted to get to the heart of B-3. 

On the fourth day, when I was halfway 
to my goal, George Birch drove out from. 
his general store, as 1 had requested, 
with cans of stew, bottles of soda pop and 
cigarettes. He was normally a dour man, 
but on this morning his face seemed 
longer than ever. I inquired if there were 
anything bothering him. 

"Carlotta Brown-Jenkin died last 
night," he said. "Friend of my mother's. 
"Tough old lady.” He shook his head. "In- 
fluenza. Shame." 

I remembered that awful, Technicol- 
orcd mcal so many months before, the 
steely glint of her eyes in their cavernous 
sockets. I did my best to look properly 
sympathetic. 

“That is a shame,” 1 said. 

He set down the box of food and 
looked past me at the entrance to my 
tunnel. The sight of it seemed to dis- 
turb him. 

“You sure you know what you're do- 
ing?” he said. 

Т assured him that I did, but he con- 
tinued to look skeptical. 


“1 remember the last time you archae- 
ologist fellows came to town, you know,” 
he said. As a matter of fact 1 did know 
this, since he told me almost every time I 
saw him. "I was a boy. We had just got 
electricity in our house." 

"Things must have changed a great 
deal since then," I said. 

"Things haven't changed at all," he 
snapped. He was never a cheerful man, 
George Birch. He turned, hitching up 
his trousers, and limped on his wooden 
foot back to his truck. 

That night I lay in my bedroll under 
the canvas roof of my tent, watching the 
tormented sky. The lantern hissed softly 
beside my head; I kept it burning low, all 
night long, advertising my presence to 
any who might seek to come and undo 
my work. It had been a warm, springlike 
afternoon, but now a cool breeze was 
blowing in from the north, stirring the 
branches of the trees over my head. Af- 
ter a while I drowsed a little; I fancied I 
could hear the distant fluting of the 
Miskahannock flowing over its rocky bed 
and, still more distant, the low, insistent 
drumming of the machine heart in the 
black mill. Suddenly I sat up: The music 
I had been hearing, of breeze and river 
and far-off machinery, seemed at once 
very close and not at all metaphoric. I 
scrambled out of my bedroll and tent 
and stood, taut, listening, at the edge 
of Plunkettsburg Ring. It was music 1 


heard, strange music, and it seemed to 
be issuing, impossibly, from the other 
end of the tunnel I had been digging 
and redigging over the past two weeks— 
from within mound B-3, the null 
mound! 

I have never, generally, been plagued 
by bouts of great courage, but I do suffer 
from another vice whose outward ap- 
pearance is often indistinguishable from 
that of bravery: 1 am pathologically curi- 
ous. I was not brave enough, in that el- 
dritch moment, actually to approach B- 
3, to investigate the source of the music 1 
was hearing; but though every primitive 
impulse urged me to flee, I stood there, 
listening, until the music stopped, an 
hour before dawn. I heard sorrow in the 
music, and mourning, and the beating of 
many small drums. And then in the full 
light of the last day of April, emboldened 
by bright sunshine and a cup of instant 
coffee, I made my way gingerly toward 
the mound. I picked up my shovel, low- 
ered my foolish head into the tunnel and 
crept carefully into the bowels of the 
now-silent mound. Seven hours later I 
felt the shovel strike something hard, 
like stone or brick. Then the hardness 
gave way, and the shovel flew abruptly 
out of my hands. 1 had reached, at last, 
the heart of mound B-3. 

And it was not empty; oh no, not at all. 
There were seven sealed tombs lining 
the domed walls, carved stone chambers 


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of the usual Miskahannock type, and an- 
other ten that were empty, and one, as 
yet unsealed, that held the unmistak- 
able, though withered, yellow, naked 
and eternally slumbering form of Carlot- 
ta Brown-Jenkin. And crouched on her 
motionless chest, as though prepared to 
devour her throat, sat a tiny stone idol, 
hideous, black, brandishing a set of 
wicked ivory fangs. 

Now I gave in to those primitive im- 
pulses; I panicked. I tore out of the buri- 
al chamber as quickly as 1 could and ran 
for my car, not bothering to collect my 
gear. In 20 minutes I was back at Mur- 
rough House. I hurried up the front 
steps, intending only to go to my room, 
retrieve my clothes and books and pa- 
pers and leave behind Plunkettsburg for- 
ever. But when I came into the foyer I 


found Dexter, carrying a tray of eaten 
lunches back from the dining room to 
the kitchen. He was whistling lightheart- 
edly and when he saw me he grinned. 
Then his expression changed. 

“What is it?” he said, reaching out to 
me. “Has something happened?” 

“Nothing,” I said, stepping around 
him, avoiding his grasp. The streets of 
Plunkettsburg had been built on evil 
ground, and now I could only assume 
that every one of its citizens, even cheer- 
ful Dexter, had been altered by the years 
and centuries of habitation. "Every- 
things fine. I just have to leave town." 

I started up the wide, carpeted steps 
as quickly as I could, mentally packing 
my bags and boxes with essentials, load- 
ing the car, twisting and backtracking up 
the steep road out of this cursed valley. 


“Thank you all very much. You may now resume 
eating one another.” 


“My name came up,” Dexter said. “I 
start tomorrow at the mi 

Why did І turn? Why did I not keep 
going down the long, crooked hall- 
way and carry out my sensible, coward- 
ly plan? 

“You can't do that,” I said. He started 
to smile, but there must have been some- 
thing in my face. The smile fizzled out. 
"You'll be killed. You'll be mangled. 
That good-looking mug of yours will be 
hideously deformed." 

"Maybe," he said, trying to sound 
calm, but I could sce that my own agita- 
tion was infecting him. “Maybe not.” 

"It's the women. The queens. They're 
alive.” 

“The queens are alive? What are you 
talking about, professor? I think you've. 
been out on the mountain too long.” 

^I have to go, Dexter," I said. "I'm sor- 
ry. 1 can't stay here anymore. But if you 
have any sense at all, you'll come with 
me. I'll drive you to Pittsburgh. You can 
start at Tech. They'll help you. They'll 
give you a job. . . ." I could feel myself 
starting to babble. 

Dexter shook his head. "Can't" he 
said. "My name came up! Shoot, Гуе 
been waiting for this all my life.” 

“Look,” I said. “All right. Just come 
with me, out to the Ring.” I looked at my 
watch. “We've got an hour until dark. 
Just let me show you something I found 
out there, and then if you still want to go 
to work in that infernal factory, I'll shake 
your hand and bid you farewell.” 

“You'll really take me out to the site?” 

1 nodded. He set the tray on a deal 
table and untied his apron. 

“Let me get my jacket,” he said. 

. 


I packed my things and we drove in si- 
lence to the necropolis. I was filled with 
regret for this course of action, with in 
mations of disaster. But I felt I couldn't 
simply leave town and let Dexter Ei- 
bonas walk willingly into that fiery eruc- 
tation of the evil genius, the immemorial 
accursedness, of his drab Pennsylvania 
hometown. I couldn't leave that young, 
unmarked body to be broken and split 
on the horrid machines of the mill. As 
for why Dexter wasn't talking, I don't 
know; perhaps he sensed my mounting 
despair, or perhaps he was simply lost in 
youthful speculation on the unknown 
vistas that lay before him, subterranean 
sights forbidden and half-legendary to. 
him since he had first come to conscious- 
ness of the world. As we turned off Gray 
Road onto the access road that led up to 
the site, he sat up straight and looked at 
me, his face grave with the consummate 
adolescent pleasure of violating rules. 

“There,” 1 said. I pointed out the win- 
dow as we crested the rise. The Plun- 
kettsburg Ring lay spread out before us, 
filled with jagged shadows, in the slant- 
ing, rust-red light of the setting sun. 
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the site was not apparent, and the 36 
mounds appeared to stretch from one 
end of the plateau to the other, like a line 
of uneven teeth studding an immense, 
devouring jawbone. 

"Let's make this quick," I said, shud- 
dering. 1 handed him a spare lantern 
from the trunk of the Nash, and then we 
walked to the edge of the aboriginal for- 
est that ran upslope from the plateau to 
the wind-shattered precincts of Mount 
Orrert's sharp peak. It was here, in the 
lee of a large maple tree, that I had set 
up my makeshift camp. At the time the 
shelter of that homely tree had seemed 
quite inviting, but now it appcared to me 
that the forest was the source of all the 
lean shadows reaching their ravening 
fingers across the plateau. 1 ducked 
quickly into my tent to retrieve my 
lantern and then hurried back to rejoin 
Dexter. I thought he was looking a lit- 
tle uneasy now. His gait slowed as we 
approached B-3. When we trudged 
around to confront the raw carthen 
mouth of the passage 1 had dug, he 
came to a complete stop. 

“We're not going inside there,” he said 
in a monotone. I saw come into his eyes 
the dull, dreamy look that was there 
whenever he talked about going to work 
in the mill. “It isn't allowed.” 

“It's just for a minute, Dexter. That's 
all you'll need.” 

I put my hands on his shoulders and 
gave him a push, and we stumbled 
through the dank, close passage, the 
light from our lanterns veering wildly 
around us. Then we were in the crypt. 

“No,” Dexter said. The effect on him 
of the sight of the time-ravaged naked 
body of Carlotta Brown-Jenkin, of the 
empty tombs, the hideous idol, the out- 
landish ideograms that covered the 
walls, was everything 1 could have hoped 
for. His jaw dropped, his hands clenched 
and unclenched, he took a step back- 
ward. "She just died!" 

"Yesterday," I agreed, trying to allay 
my own anxiety with a show of ironic 
detachment. 

“But what . . . what's she doing out 
here?" He shook his head quickly, as 
though trying to clear it of smoke or 
spiderwebs. 

"Don't you know?" I asked him, for I 
still was not completely certain of his or 
any townsman's uninvolvement in the 
evil, at once ancient and machine-age, 
that was evidently the chief business of 
Plunkettsburg, 

“No! God, no!” He pointed to the 
queer, fanged idol that crouched with a 
hungry leer on the late chancellor's hol- 
low bosom. “God, what is that thing?" 

I went over to the tomb and cautious- 
ly, as if the figure with its enormous, ob- 
scene tusks might come to life and rip off 
a mouthful of my hand, picked up the 
idol. It was as black and cold as space, 
and so heavy that it bent my hand back 
at the wrist as I hefted it, With both 


hands I got a firm grip on it and turned 
it over. On its pedestal were incised three 
symbols in the spiky, complex script of 
the Miskahannocks, unrelated to any 
other known human language or alpha- 
bet. As with all of the tribe’s inscriptions, 
the characters had both a phonetic and a 
ymbolic sense. Often these were quite 
pendent of one another. 

fu... yug... gog,” I read, sounding 
it out carefully. "Yuggog." 

"What does that mean?" 

“It doesn't mean anything, as far as 1 
know. But it can be read another way. 
It's trickier. Here's tooth . . . gut—that’s 
hunger—and this one——" I held up 
the idol toward him. He shied away. His 
face had gone completely pale, and 
there was a look of fear in his eyes, of 
awareness of evil, that 1 found, God for- 
give me, strangely gratifying. “This is a 
kind of general intensive, I believe. Mak- 
ing this read, loosely rendered, hun- 
ger... itself, How odd.” 

"Yuggog," Dexter said softly, a thin 
strand of spittle joining his lips. 

“Here.” I said cruelly, tossing the 
heavy thing toward him. Let him go into 
the black mill now, I thought, after he’s 
seen this. Dexter batted at the thing, 
knocking it to the ground. There was a 
sharp, tearing sound like matchwood 
splitting. For an instant Dexter looked 
utterly, cosmically startled. Then he, and 
the idol of Yuggog, disappeared. There 
was a loud thud, and a clatter, and 1 
heard him groan. I picked up the splin- 
tered halves of the carved wooden trap- 
door Dexter had fallen through and 
gazed down into a fairly deep, smooth- 
sided hole. He lay crumpled at the bot- 
tom, about eight feet beneath me, in the 
light of his overturned lantern. 

“My God! I'm sorry! Are you all 
right” 

“I think I sprained my ankle,” he said. 
He sat up and raised his lantern. His 
eyes got very wide. “Professor, you have 
to see this.” 

I lowered myself carefully into the 
hole and stared with Dexter into a 
great round tunnel, taller than either of. 
us, paved. with crazed human bones, 
stretching far beyond the pale of our 
lanterns. 

"A tunnel,” he said. “I wonder where it 
goes." 

"I can only guess," 1 said. "And that's 
never good enough for me. 

“Professor! You aren't ——" 

But I had already started into the tun- 
nel, a decision that I attributed not to 
courage, of course, but to my far greater 
vice. I did not see that as I took those 
first steps into the tunnel I was in fact be- 
ing bitten off, chewed and swallowed, as 
it were, by the very mouth of the Plun- 
kettsburg evil. I took small, queasy steps 
along the horrible floor, avoiding insofar 
as 1 could stepping on the outraged 
miens of human skulls, searching the 
smoothed, plastered walls of the tunnel 


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for ideograms or other hints of the 
builders of this amazing structure. The 
tunnel, or at least this version of it, was 
well built, buttressed regularly by sturdy 
iron piers and lintels, and of chillingly 
recent vintage. Only great wealth, I 
thought, could have managed such a 
feat of engineering. A few minutes later I 
heard a tread behind me and saw the 
faint glow of a lantern. Dexter joined 
me, favoring his right ankle, his lantern 
swinging as he walked. 

"We're headed northwest,” I said. “We 
must be under the river by now.” 

“Under the river?” he said. “Could In- 
dians have built a tunnel like this?” 

“No, Dexter, they could not.” 

He didn't say anything for a moment 
as he took this information in 

“Professor, we're headed for the mill, 
aren't we?" 

"I'm afraid we must be,” I said. 

We walked for three quarters of an 
hour, until the sound of pounding ma- 
chinery became audible, grew gradually 
unbearable and finally exploded directly 
over our heads. The tunnel had run out 
I looked up at the trapdoor above us. 
"Then I heard a muffled scream. To this 
day I don't know if the screamer was one 
of the men up on the floor of the facto- 
ry, or Dexter Eibonas, a massive hand 
clapped brutally over his mouth, be- 
cause the next instant, at the back of my 
head, a supernova bloomed and flared 
brightly. 

. 


I wake in an immense room, to the id- 
iot pounding of a machine. The walls are 
sheets of fire flowing upward like invert- 
ed cataracts; the ceiling is lost in shad- 
ow from which, when the flames flare 
brightly, there emerges the vague im- 
pression of a steely web of girders 
among which dark things ceaselessly 
creep. Thick coils of rope bind my arms 
to my sides, and my legs аге lashed at the 
ankles to those of the plain pine chair in 
which 1 have been propped. 

It is one of two dozen chairs in a row 
that is one of a hundred, in a room filled 
with men, the slumped, crew-cut, big- 
shouldered ordinary men of Plunketts- 
burg and its neighboring towns. We are 
all waiting, and watching, as the women 
of Plunkettsburg, the servants of Yug- 
gog, pass noiselessly among us in their 
soft, horrible cloaks stitched from the 
hides of dead men, tapping on the 
shoulder of now one fellow, now anoth- 
er. None of my neighbors, however, ap- 
pears to have required the use of strong 
rope to conjoin him to his fate. Without 
a word the designated men, their blood 
thick with the dark earthen brew of the 
Ring vitches, rise and follow the skins 
of miscreant fathers and grandfathers 
down to the ceremonial altar at the heart 
of the mill, where the priestesses of Yug- 
gog throw oracular bones and, given the 
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HOW 


Below is a list of retailers and 
manufacturers you can contact 
for information on where to 
find this month's merchandise. 
To buy the apparel and equip- 
ment shown on pages 22, 30, 
32, 36, 84-89, 114-117 and 
183, check the listings below to. 
find the stores nearest you. 


STYLE 
Page 22: “Foot Notes”: San- 
dals: By DKNY, at Bloom- 
ingdale's stores. By Joseph 
Abboud, at Saks Fifth Avenue, 212-753- 
4000. By Adam Derrick, at Louis of Boston, 
617-262-6100. By Bally, 800-96-BALLY. By 
Cole-Haan, 800-488-2000. By Kenneth Cole, 
800-KEN-COLE, By Nicole Farhi, at Marshall 
Field's stores. By Bruno Magli, 800-624- 
5430. “Hot Shopping: Berkeley”: Dish, 
510-540-4784. Wicked, 510-883-1055. 
Amoeba Music, 510-549-1125. Moe's Books, 
510-849-2087. Jupiter, 510-843-8277. 
*Short Cuts”: Giuseppe Franco hair salon, 
310-274-8967. Shampoo and texture 
cream by American Crew, 800-598-CREW. 
Amplifying tonic by Michael diCesare, 800- 
TIB-SIVLE. 


WIRED 

Pages 30, 32: “Brain Savers": Cellular 
phone accessories: By Lelser Ltd., from 
Miller Advertising, 212-929-2200, ext. 
800. From Codem, 800-443-2005. "CB Re- 
vival': CB radios: By Cobra, 773-889- 
3087. By Midland Radios, 816-241-8500. 
By Uniden America Corp., 800-297-1023. 
“Wild Things”: Static electricity device 
from Comp U Time, 847-228-1600. Video 
game keychain from Square Soft, Inc., 114- 
540-8892. Storage system by Atlantic, Inc., 
800-747-2660. Receiver and CD changer 
by Magnavox, 800-597-1790, “Multimedia 
Reviews & News”: Software: From Real 
World, 800-768-6943. From ASC Games, 
203-655-0032. From Grolier, 203-797- 
3530. From Interact Accessories, 410-238- 
1426. From Books That Work, 800-242- 
4546. By Chivas Regal, 800-CHIVAs-1. 
"Cyber Scoop”: Software by Microsoft, 800- 
426-9400. 


TRAVEL 
Page 36: “Great Escape": Crystal Creek 
Lodge, http://www.crystalcrecklodge.com. 
"Road Stuff”: Clock radio by Sony Elec- 
tronics, Inc., 800-222-7669. Thermos from 
Runnin’ Cool, 800-58-COOL-1. 


TIGHT SQUEEZE 
Page 84: Sweater and pants by Prada, 
NYC, 212-327-0488. Page 85: Suit by 


MNW Wardrobe, at Camou- 
flage, NYC, 212-691-1750. 
Shirt by Katharine Hamnett, 
at Barneys New York, NYC, 
212-826-8900. Belt and 
loafers by Nicole Farhi, at 
Charivari, NYC, 212-333- 
4040. Page 86: Suit and 
| shirt by Gucci, at Neiman 

Marcus stores. Page 87: Suit 
by DEG by Dolce & Gabbana, 
at Riccardi, Boston, 617- 
266-3158. Shirt by Kathar- 
ine Hamnett, at Neiman 
Marcus stores, Page 88: Shirt by MNW, at 
Barneys New York, NYC, 212-826-8900. 
Belt by Nicole Farhi, at Marshall Field's 
stores. Pants by Eugene Lumpkin, at Moda, 
Washington, D.C., 202-208-8568. Page 89: 
Belt and sandals by DKNY, at select 
Bloomingdale's stores. Sunglasses by Em- 
porio Armani, NYC, 212-727-3240. Shirt 
and khakis by Calvin Klein, at Calvin Klein. 


stores. 


DADS & GRADS 

Pages 114-115: "Dads": Camcorder by 
Sony Electronics, Inc., 800-222-7669. Co- 
gnac from the Westwood Importing Co., 313- 
869-4909. Snifter from Tiffany & Co., at 
"Tiffany & Co. stores. Portfolio from Lumi- 
maire, 312-664-9582. Fax machine and 
cordless phone by Panasonic Co., 201-348- 
9090. Golf club by Square Tivo Golf, 800- 
526-2250. Watch from SMH, Inc., 800- 
456-5354. Silk tie by Giorgio Armani. at 
Saks Fifth Avenue stores. Sunglasses by 
Cartier, 800-447-7405. Aftershave by Az- 
zaro, at Bloomingdale's stores. Portable 
minidisc recorder and player by Sony 
Electronics, Inc., 800-222-7669. Pages 
116-117: “Grads”: Binoculars from Pio- 
neer Research, 800-257-7742. Sound sys- 
tem from Davis Designs, Inc., 800-905- 
8515. Cologne by Swiss Army Brand 
Parfum, 800-447-7422. Champagne from 
Dom Pérignon, 800-621-5150. Champagne 
glasses by Jitala of Finland from Chiasso, 
800-654-3570. Silk tie by Lee Allison De- 
signs, at better men’s clothing and tobacco 
stores or call 773-276-7172. Watch by Re- 
vue Thommen, 800-431-2996. Camcorder 
by RCA, 800-336-1900. Sunglasses by Re- 
vo, 800-843-7386. PC companion by Com- 
pag, 800-OK-COMPAQ. 


ON THE SCENE 

Page 183: “Digital Sharpshooters”: Cam- 
eras: By Sony Electronics, Inc., 800-222- 
7669. By Nikon, 800-52-NIKON. By Olym- 
pus America, 888-55-DIGITAL. By Sanyo, 
818-998-7322, ext. 561. 


Чот PHOTOGRAPHY ву P 3 ALCOLFO GALLELA, ANOREW GOLOMAW, KATHI KENT, RON MESAROS (Z1. ROB RICH (2), PHIL 


foot, his fingers. A yellow snake, its ven- 
om presumably anesthetic, is applied to 
the fated extremity. Then the long knife 
is brought to bear, and the vast, im- 
memorial hunger of the god of the Mis- 
kahannocks is assuaged for another 
brief instant. In the past three hours on 
this Walpurgis Night, nine men have 
been so treated; tomorrow, people in 
this bewitched town, that in a reasonable 
age, has learned to eat its men a little at 
a time, will speak, I am sure, of a series 
of horrible accidents at the mill. The 
women came to take away Dexter Ei- 
bonas an hour ago. I looked away as he 
went under the knife, but I believe he 
lost the better part of his left arm to the 
god. I can only assume that very soon 
now I will feel the tap on my left shoul- 
der of the fingers of the town librarian, 
the grocer's wife, of Mrs. Eibonas her- 
self. I am guiltier by far of trespass than 
Ed Eibonas and do not suppose I will 
survive the procedure. 

Strange how calm I feel in the face of 
all this; perhaps there remain traces of 
the beer in my veins, or perhaps in this 
hellish place there are other enchant- 
ments at work. In any case, I will at least 
have the satisfaction of seeing my theory 
confirmed, or partly confirmed, before I 
die, and the concomitant satisfaction, so 
integral to my profession, of seeing my 
teacher's theory cast in the dustbin. For, 
as I held, the Miskahannocks hungered; 
and hunger, black, primordial, un- 
staunchable hunger itself, was their god. 
It was indeed the misguided scrambling 
and digging of my teacher and his col- 
leagues, I imagine, that awakened great 
Yuggog from its 4000-year slumber. As 
for the black mill that fascinated me for 
so many months, it is a sham. The single 
great machine to my left takes in no raw 
materials and emits no ingots or sheets. 
Itis simply an immense piston, endlessly 
screaming and pounding like the skin of 
an immense drum the ground that since 
the days of the Miskahannocks has been 
the sacred precinct of the god. The 
flames that flash through the windows 
and the smoke that proceeds from the 
chimneys are bits of trickery, mechani- 
cal contrivances devised, I suppose, by 
Philippa Howard Murrough herself, in 
the days when the revived spirit of Yug- 
gog first whispered to her of its awful, 
eternal appetite for the flesh of men. 
The sole industry of Plunkettsburg is 
carnage, scarred and mangled bodies 
the only product. 

One thought disturbs the perfect, poi- 
son calm with which I am suffused—the 
trucks that grind their way in and out of 
the valley, the freight trains that come 
clanging in the night. What cargo, I 
wonder, is unloaded every morning at 
the docks of the Plunkettsburg Mill? 
What burden do those trains bear away? 


DENNIS RODMAN „лоев 


In my whole life I have had between 25 and 30 
women. Maybe five good ones. 


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Many people believe you're gay or bisex- 
val, though you have never admitted 
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rent state of your sexuality? 


RODMAN: I wouldn't be ashamed to say I 
was gay. I'm the first to say I would fuck 
a man's brains out. Giving it or getting it, 
taking or giving, don't matter—it's all 
about getting that sensation you want. 
And on that day I want to fuck a man, I'll 
announce it. ГЇЇ make sure everyone in 
the world knows I’m gay. 

PLAYBOY: But you haven't actually done 
it yet. 

RODMAN: I mentally masturbate. I have 
sex in my mind, It happens all the time. 
PLAYBOY: Are you attracted to men? 
RODMAN: We all have a little homosexual 
in us. We pat each other on the ass. We 
kiss. 1 kiss transsexuals. If I think a guy 
is attractive I can tell him, “You are a 
beautiful motherfucker.” I'll hug him 
and kiss him. 

PLAYBOY: If you kiss a man in friendship, 
does it matter if he's good-looking? 
RODMAN: [Pauses] Yes. 

PLAYBOY: What does your mother think 
when she sees you in makeup and 
a gown? 

RODMAN: She doesn't care. She's got a 
new house. 

PLAYBOY: Do you ever wear women's 
clothing in private? 

RODMAN: 1 wear it once in a while. It 
shows that I am not just an athlete. It 
shows that I’m not afraid of society. I'm 
unconventional. 

PLAYBOY: You don't really have a gay 
streak, do you? 


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RODMAN: I have done a lot for the gay 
community. I make it more acceptable. T 
am an entertainer, a phenomenon and a 
historical landmark. 

PLAYBOY: You say you don't mind fanta- 
sizing about gay sex, but you always stop 
short of actually doing it. 

RODMAN: Sex should be a mystery. You 
need some mystery to it. You don't have 
that if everybody's the same. And if that's 
not true then everybody would be gay 
and lesbian, wouldn't they? 

[We finished on Sunday in his penthouse 
suite al the Mirage, high above the special-ef- 
fects volcano. Rodman was shirtless, stretch- 
ing, just waking up for breakfast. It was four 
rM. Rodman's female companion, Chicago 
businessman Bill Marovitz and bodyguard 
Williams were watching the NBA All-Star 
Game on TV. Rodman watched, but looked 
bored. He said the All-Star Game is over- 
hyped. Forty-eight hours before his return to 
the court, Rodman spoke softly. 

PLAYBOY: When was the last time you 
were alone? 

RODMAN: When 1 sleep, I'm alone. 
PLAYBOY: Your agent, Dwight Manley, 
tells us that you sleepwalk. He'll be 
sleeping on the couch in your house or a 
hotel suite when you lumber out, push 
him aside and lie down. 

RODMAN: No, no. That was kidding 
around, 

PLAYBOY: But you do sleepwalk? 
RODMAN: Sometimes. Everybody does. 
PLAYBOY; That's not true. 

RODMAN: Yes, you do it. Everybody sleep- 
walks once in a while. 

PLAYBOY: Other than partying, have you 
prepared for the season's second half? 
RODMAN: My mind is ready. 

PLAYBOY: Do you have anything planned 
for your return? 

RODMAN: Be in fucking character, that's 
it. When the camera is on, the shows 
begin. 

PLAYBOY: You say you'll give your salary 
back next year if your performance 
doesn't measure up. Who decides 
whether you were good enough? 
RODMAN: [Smiling] Me. 

PLAYBOY: You say you don't plan ahead, 
but it sounds like you have all the bases 
covered. Is Bob Knight right about you? 
RODMAN: They say I’m either a genius or 
the most stupid, illiterate motherfucker 
in the world. Some people call it clever. 
Do you know what I call it? Brilliant. I 
call itbrilliant. Wile E. Coyote, that’s me. 
Wilc E. Coyote. 

PLAYBOY: And celebrity? 

RODMAN: It pays for me and my child. 
PLAYBOY: You don't see your daughter 
much. 

RODMAN: Alexis, she's going on nine. 
She's my role model. She's so beautiful. 
You know what breaks my heart? Seeing 
her so shy. All the kids talk behind her 
back. Even at the private school she goes 
to, she can't escape being my daughter. 
We talk on the phone and she says, 
"Daddy, I don't want to go to school." 


Its making me more sheltered. This 
fucking image of mine—sometimes I 
can't deal with it. I have two veins keep- 
ing me going—my emotion and my lit- 
te girl. 

PLAYBOY: You were a shy kid. 

RODMAN: I'm still shy, brother. Watch me 
with Jay Leno. He'll ask something per- 
sonal and I'll look down at the ground. I 
can't look up. I saw Jimi Hendrix on an 
old Dick Cavett show; he did the same 
thing. He was shy. Now I see Alexis do- 
ing that same look. 

PLAYBOY: How often do you see your 
daughter? 

RODMAN: I don't see her. My ex-wife has 
her. I have a stupid-ass ex-wife writing a 
book full of bullshit. We were married 
only 82 days, but now that I have a little 
pocket money, she thinks, I'll get rich off 
his fame. I'm like O.J. Everything I do, 
people want to make money off it. 
PLAYBOY: Do you attempt to see your 
daughter? 

RODMAN: I may have to get lawyers to get 
me the right to see her. I'd spend all the 
money it takes. And before I ever have 
another kid, I want to give my all to 
Alexis. 

PLAYBOY: Do your family problems make 
you cynical? 

RODMAN: No. They make me real. I ac- 
cept them and go on. 

PLAYBOY: What contact do you have with 
Annie, your ex-wife? 

RODMAN: I call her and ask for Alexis. 
PLAYBOY: Do you think men and women 
can learn to get along? 

RODMAN: Of course not. 

PLAYBOY: Do you want to get married 
again? 

RODMAN: It's hard to go on a scavenger 
hunt. It's hard to tell who is real and 
who's only after your money. I had a girl 
sue me for giving her herpes, which I 
didn't do. 

PLAYBOY: Do you believe in marriage? 
RODMAN: 1 think something happens 
when you get married. Maybe you made 
love to your wife before, but it's not the 
same because now you have to. And you 
can really make love to the same person 
only so many times; after that you just go 
through the motions. You're just fuck- 
ing. You can make love to a girlfriend. 
You make love to your girlfriend and 
your standbys because you don't want 
to lose them, but you have got to fuck 
your wife. 

PLAYBOY: Last basketball question. Do 
you have any responsibility to the NBA? 
RODMAN: The NBA can kiss my ass. 
That's their responsibility. 

PLAYBOY Are you misunderstood? 
RODMAN: I’m not crazy. 1 am not Hanni- 
bal Lecter. That's the shock of Dennis 
Rodman if you get to know me—I'm 
very calm. I am a tidal wave of calm and 
I'm right here [pointing to his eyes], look- 


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(continued from page 142) 
scrawled NIGGER and KKK on her body. 
She said she had been abducted and 
raped by a group of six white men, one 
of whom had worn a police badge. The 
police did not confirm her story and 
soon expressed skepticism. 

Sharpton went to work, organizing 
marches and orchestrating Brawley's 
campaign for justice. He moved with 
special fury because, he said later in his 
autobiography, the case reminded him 
of “what happened between my father 
and my sister. The harder they attacked 
Tawana, the more I saw a vulnerable 
black woman, like my mother, who no 
one would fight for. At some point it 
stopped being Tawana and started being 
me defending my mother and all the 
black women no one would fight for. 
I was not going to run away from her 
like my father had run away from my 
mother, like so many other black men 
had run away." 

"Ten months later a grand jury con- 
duded that Brawley's horrifying story 
was fabricated. 

Not long before this embarrassment, 
Neusday had exposed Sharpton's secret 
work for the FBI. For many New York- 
ers, his credibility was gone forever: "I 
just can't forgive a guy," says critic and 
columnist Stanley Crouch, speaking of 
the Brawley episode, “who was a part of 
a hoax that had that kind of a divisive ef- 
fect on New York for that long. At some 
point along the way he must have known 
that it was a fraud." 

For Ted Kennedy there is Chap 
paquiddick. For Jesse Jackson there is 
“Hymietown.” For Al Sharpton there is 
his FBI work and Tawana Brawley. 

. 


During the late Eighties and early 
Nineties, a series of hate crimes rocked. 
the New York area and Sharpton 
marched and made headlines through 
them all. He won respect from some, an- 
imosity from many and attention from 
all. A 1990 Washington Post editorial 
asked “why we in the news business give 
such prominence to professional provo- 
cateurs like Reverend Al. We distort the 
larger picture by training our blinding 
spotlight on an assortment of kooks, cra- 
zies and crackpots whose mission is to di- 
vide and polarize.” 

On January 12, 1991, as Sharpton 
prepared to lead a march in a Brooklyn 
neighborhood, Bensonhurst, where a 
black man named Yusuf Hawkins had 
been killed, a white man named Michael 
Riccardi stabbed Sharpton in the chest, 
just missing his heart. Sharpton was 
rushed to a hospital where, he wrote in 
his autobiography, he realized “that your 
life can go, can be taken from you, just 
like that. I realized that if my life was so 
fragile, so contingent, then I had to be 


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PLAYBOY 


174 


more serious about what I was doing 
and saying, I had to be more carcful 
about the message I was leaving people 
with. 1 realized I was a Christian activist, 
out of the tradition of Adam Clayton 
Powell, Martin Luther King and Jesse 
Jackson—a minister.” 

When he regained consciousness he 
asked to speak with Reverend Jackson. 
The two had known each other for more 
than 20 years but had not spoken for 
some time. Nevertheless, Jackson was at 
the hospital the next morning. “Jesse 
and I always have this relationship,” 
Sharpton said, “where we love each oth- 
ex, but you know how men don't say that. 
He said, ‘Well, 1 had to come ‘cause Jack- 
ie [Jackson's wife] was crying and both- 
ering me all night.’ I said, "Yeah, well, 
Kathy wanted me to call you.” It was that 
kind of thing. Then he prayed with me. 
1 told him I wanted to do more with elec- 
toral politics and he said, “Well, I've al- 
ways been available to you since you 
were 14.’ You know, that whole father 
thing.” 

Sharpton recovered completely and 
not long afterward he flew with Jackson 
to Las Vegas, where they spent five days 
taking in the Mike Tyson-Donovan “Ra- 
zor” Ruddock fight and organizing a 
surprise birthday party for Jackson's 
wife. In Las Vegas, Sharpton said, they 
“reglued and got really, really tight.” 
Ever since, the two men have spoken al- 
most every day, usually at six in the 
morning. 

His brush with death and rekindled 
friendship with Jackson seemed to mel- 
low Sharpton. He became less shrill and 


more statesmanlike and, by 1992, people 
took notice. He put together his first po- 
litical effort and finished a respectable 
third in the Democratic senatorial pri- 
mary, getting 15 percent of the vote. 
Then-governor Mario Cuomo called 
him the primary's “classiest” candidate 
and "the real winner." Two years later 
Sharpton ran in another senate primary 
and received 26 percent of the vote. 

Along the way, Sharpton devoted 
more of his time to battling corporate 
racism. In 1996, thanks to Sharpton's 
lobbying, a New York television station 
hired its first black woman news director. 
Sharpton and Jackson were counseling 
six black Texaco employees who had 
filed a discrimination lawsuit when a 
tape was made public of company execu- 
tives flinging racial epithets. (The suit 
was quickly settled.) And during the 
summer of 1996, Sharpton called for- 
mer mayor Ed Koch and said, "I just 
want you to know that I've decided I am 
taking the road of Jesse Jackson, not 
Minister Farrakhan." Koch said it was "a 
very significant statement. I believed 
him and I still do." 

Even Don King forgives the preacher. 
Not long ago the two men, who sce each 
other regularly, met in a New York hotel 
room and a visitor asked King about the 
FBI episode. “When they feel threat- 
ened by your presence they use these 
type of devices to cause divisiveness and 
to snatch whatever credibility one may 
have from them. This is a semantic 
game, one of the most sophisticated 
games in the world." King's cyes grew 
wide and his voice gained in volume and 


"Pardon me, but you look like someone who may be interested 
in a litile casual, yet hilarious, safe sex." 


bombast. "This is masterful, diabolical, 
deductive thinking. Shifting gears so the 
discussion leaves the person who's in 
dire straits, or the issue that has to be 
confronted, into personal calumniation. 
It's what they call in psychology 'trans- 
ferring.’ Rather than confront the issue 
they throw up a subterfuge. This is a 
game that's played all the time in my 
country." He paused, then said, "You got 
to be able to understand. We all make 
mistakes." 

But does Don King trust Al Sharpton? 
Let King make it perfectly clear again: "I 
believe in America, and I want to help 
America," King said. “I think America is 
bigger than me trustin' or not trustin” 
Sharpton. I think that’s irrelevant and 
immaterial. The goal we are both trying 
to seek is a better America. I don't even 
get into whether I trust or don’t trust. 1 
don't trust myself. So how am I gonna 
get mad if they tell me I don't trust 
Sharpton? It's probably true.” 

. 


These days Jesse Jackson is one of the 
most outspoken advocates of Sharpton's 
candidacy. 'The two men speak of cach 
other, in public and private, in father- 
and-son terms. Sharpton introduced 
Jackson at a recent campaign stop in 
Harlem and said that if "everything in 
society told you you wasn't somebody, it 
was important for somebody to affirm 
you, that you were somebody." The 
crowd cheered. Jackson, Sharpton said, 
"did that for me in my early teens. And is 
sull doing it for me in my early 40s." 

Jackson took the podium to a standing 
ovation. "Al Sharpton is a freedom fight- 
er,” he preached in his trademark 
rhythm, his voice low and calm and 
heavy with his characteristic Southern 
accent. "I've known Al since he was a 
teenager. His heroes were freedom 
fighters. Pulpitecring, protesting, defy- 
ing the power structure is all he ever 
wanted to do.” The crowd was silent, 
their attention rapt. "As a child Al want- 
ed to be a protesting preacher of power. 
A freedom fighter," Jackson continued, 
gathering volume and steam. “What 
makes Al different? He's a full-time free- 
dom fighter. This is all he does! Wakes 
up every morning and listen to the ra- 
dio. Who got in trouble last night? Who 
got abused last night? Who got shot last 
night? Full-time freedom fighter. This is 
all he does!" He leaned back from the 
microphone and became more conversa- 
tional. "Those who did not have those 
struggling washing machines cannot ap- 
preciate. "There was a thing in the wash- 
ing machine that went up and down, 
called the agitator." He placed his fists in 
front of him and began pumping them 
aggressively. "And it shook the dirt out of 
things. And agitators shake the dirt out 
of things. Shake the injustice out of 
things and shake up oppressors!" He be- 
gan to yell. “Al Sharpton is an agitator!” 


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“Teach!” someone in the crowd yelled 
back. 

“What does he do? Al disturbs the 
comfortable and comforts the dis- 
turbed!" Jackson paused dramatically, 
then added in a crisp, hushed voice, “Dr. 
King wouldn't argue.” 

Sharpton will spend a lot of his cam- 
paign time in New York pulpits. Are 
New York voters ready for black preach- 
ing? “In the black church,” said Michael 
Eric Dyson, a professor of communica- 
tion studies at the University of North 
Carolina in Chapel Hill, and an or- 
dained Baptist minister, “how you say it 
is just as important as what you say. Now, 
people take that to mean, even if you 
ain't saying nothing just make it sound 
pretty. No, what it means is that style is 
an agent of substance, not a substitute 
for substance. Style becomes the vehicle 
through which substance is born.” 

Will Sharpton have enough substance 
to attract whites and sufficient style to 
satisfy blacks? Can he make his case on 
issues such as housing, education and 
police conduct without becoming an 
Outrageous Nigger or a Good Negro? 

Jackson's influence may make the dif- 
ference. “Jesse always tries to encourage 
me to be more than somebody reacting,” 
Sharpton said later. “Jesse’s thing is, 
you're not speaking to tomorrow's pa- 
per, you're speaking to history. Being 
young and hardheaded, sometimes I 
just shoot back. A guy like me learned, 
growing up, how to survive off natural 
instinct. Sometimes you gotta learn how 
to discipline your instinct. And that's al- 
ways been the struggle with me and 
Jesse. You know the old story of the two 
bulls on the hill? One run down the hill 
and screw a cow. The other walk down 
and screw 'em all. You just learn how to 
deal with things differently.” 

Sharpton was right at home at the 
Brown Memorial Baptist Church in 
Brooklyn early one Sunday morning not 
long ago. He wore an ankle-length white 
robe with brick-red trim. Sharpton be- 
gan his sermon slowly, with a benign 
weariness. “We meet this mornin’ know- 
ing the challenges on us are as pervasive 
as they've ever been." 

A baby began crying, then screaming. 
“We live in a time where black wom- 
en will starve four-year-old children!” 
Sharpton boomed. 

‘Aw Lord,” the congregation answered. 

“And we sittin’ up talkin’ about we 
don't know what to do. We're in the 
church, but we're not bringing the 
church into the community.” 

“That's right!” 

“God didn’t save you for a personal 
thrill,” he said. 

The congregation fell silent. Sharpton 
seemed angry. The baby screamed. 

“You supposed to come here and get 
the fuel to go out into the world and 
make a difference. Church is like a fillin’ 
station. You supposed to get your gas 


here so you can go and run somewhere, 
You don't go to the gas station and sit 
with a full tank and just keep runnin’ 
your motor." 

He flew through the story of Samson 
and Delilah, mentioned a Mike Tyson 
fight and jabbed at Ciuliani. Soon, he 
cruised into the home stretch singing 
God's praises, the organist coming right 
behind him, filling the spaces in his 
rhythm while the congregation clapped 
and shouted. 

"And God has all the strength you 
need!" he said, singing "God" and 
“need,” as the organ played lightly be- 
hind him. 

“He can look into the darkness and 
say, ‘Let there be light,” he sang in his 
gritty, raw baritone, sang as much as 
James Brown can be said to sing. 

“Some people, when they get in trou- 
ble,” he sang, and the organ answered, 
in a sloppy, staccato burst of sound: 
Buuh-lah-oww! 

“They look for some hotshot lawyer.” 

And the organ answered twice, Buuh- 
lah-oww! Buuh-lah-ourw! 

“But my black brother I saaay.” 

Buuh-lah-oww! 

“I know where my strength comes 
from!” 

Buuh-lah-oww! Buuh-lah-oww! 

“I have——" 

Buuh-lah-oww! 

“Not come from City Hall.” 

Buuh-lah-oww! Buuh-lah-oww! 

“I have——" 

Buuh-lah-oww! 

“Not come from the White House!” 

Buuh-lah-oww! Buuh-lah-oww! 

“T have: ^ 

Buuh-lah-oww! 

“Come from the Lord!” 

Buuh-lah-oww! Buuh-lah-oww! 

"Yes!" And the drummer came in be- 
hind the organ and they gained altitude, 
and Sharpton's eyes were large and 
bright and he rocked up and down from 
heel to toe with the rhythm, as if he 
might just leap on up and touch the ceil- 
ing in another moment. He had taken 
flight, he had transcended English and 
was pulling the congregation right up 
with him, floating not on words but on 
the strength of the preaching form itself. 
The people applauded and screamed 
and smiled and hollered and flew along- 
side him until finally, after nearly an 
hour of preaching, with the congrega- 
tion breathless, Reverend Sharpton 
stepped down from the pulpit. He 
hugged Brown Memorial's pastor, Rev- 
erend Samuel Austin, and disappeared 
into the backrooms of the church. The 
congregation began slowly sitting back 
down. With the organ playing sweetly 
behind him, Reverend Austin stepped 
up and leaned into the microphone. 
“God bless you, Reverend,” Austin said. 
“Didn't he preach?” 


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MINOLTA 
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"A CORP! PORATION 


The Playboy Cyber Club is open for 
business, with new pages devoted ex- 
clusively to the Playmate of the Year. 
You can browse pages for every 


PLAYMATE $ NEWS 


will link you up to the home pages of 
your favorite Playmates. For all ofthis 
and much more, be sure to check out 
cyber playboy.com. 


HARDCOVER PLAYBOY 


Thousands and counting: 


Visit Hef: Hove you always wanted ta hobnob with Hef's quests? 
You con go to the paysite, click an Playboy Monsion (technolo- 
gy provided by the Palace, Inc.), select ond dress on icon ond 
chot online in the grotto, on the front lown or in Hef's bedroom.  3PPEAS to 


ANN PENNINGTON: 

“My dad had a nightclub acrass 
the street fram the ald New Yark 
Playbay Club. When I was in first 


grade, he braught hame Bunny 
cuffs, eors and a tail. | wore them 
ta school and said sameday | 
would be a Bunny.” 


PMOY, and you can also hear the 
Real Audio interview with 1996 Play- 
mate of the Year Stacy Sanches. 
She is the first subject 

of our Playmate Audio 
Interview series. Fu- 
ture guests will include 
Miss September 1996, 
Jennifer Allan, and Miss 
April 1997, Kelly Mona- 
co. Two other new Cyber 
Club features let you 
keep track of the Play- 
mates. On Page 2, part of 
the Playmate Home Page, 
the ladies update fans on 
their public appearances 
and personal activities. The 
Cyber Club Start pages allow 
you to assemble a page that 


The Playboy Book is current- 
ly in its third printing, with 
220,000 copies sold world- 
wide. The Playmate Book is 
in a second printing, with 
187,000 copies sold to 
date. It's not too late to buy 
your own copy, either at 
a bookstore or through 
the Playboy catalog (800- 
423-9494). 


FAN MA! 


While thumbing through 
some old issues, I came 
across a pictorial that has 
me convinced PLAYBOY cre- 
ated the Where's Your Mus- 
tache? campaign 18 years 
ago. The picture of April 
1979 Playmate Missy 
Cleveland 


have in- 
spired an adman to 
pitch the campaign, 
and the rest is histo- 
ry.—Robert Frcek, 
frcek@aol.com 


I think Playmates are 

chosen for their attitudes as much as 
for their looks. Since many of these 
ladies become, in a sense, PLAYBOY 
spokesmodels, they must also be good 


Miss November 1992, Stephanie Adams (left). displayed some of Ployboy's 
licensed ort products at o porty in New York for Art Expo. Crootia or bust: 
Above, fram left to right, Playmates Carrie Westcott and Liso Marie Scott, 

Director of Playmate Promotions Bjoye Turner ond 40th Anniversary Ploy- 
mate Anno-Morie Goddord went to Croatia ta lounch a foreign edition 


PLAYBOY 101: 
PHOTOGRAPHER FACTS 


Arny Freytag has photographed 
the most Playmates: 86. 

Bunny Yeager gave Hef the idea 
for a Playboy 
Mansion. 
Bruno Bernard 
sired his own 
Playmate, Miss 
December 
1966, Susan 
Bernard. 
Lawrence 
Schiller 
ghostwrote 
O.J.'s book 
and wrote 
American 
Tragedy, about 
the criminal 
trial. 

Russ Meyer became a movie 
director. 

Pompeo Posar talked a potential 
Playmate he met crossing a 
Chicago street into posing for 
test shots. 


Yeoger in oction 


communicators. This may sound like 
a Seventies cliché, but personality 
and sex appeal are as important as 
physical beauty. Of course, being 
an 11 doesn't hurt, either. —David 
Reeves, REEVES@ener.gov.ab.ca 


All this talk about cloning has made 
me think about a Playmate clone. 
Would the clone be more popular 
than the original? Would paysoy still 
pull pictures from the vault, or re- 
create them? Then a friend added: 


Can you imagine this letter from 
PLAYBOY? “Because of the unprece- 
dented response, we are sorry to in- 
form you that your Lisa Matthews 
clone is still on back order.” It's cer- 
tainly food for thought.—Claus Hjor- 
ting, chjot@greennet.g] 


PLAYMATE BIRTHDAYS — JUNE 
Shae Marks—Miss May 1994 vill be 25 on June 1. 
Denise Michele—Mis April 1676 will be 44 on June 12 
Janet Pilgrim—Miss July 1955 will be 63 on June 13. 


Melinda Windsor—Miss February 1966 
willbe 58 on June 25 

Devin Reneé De Vasquez—Mis June 1985 
willbe 34 on June 25. 


The photo of Brigitte Bardot in the 
March Playboy Gallery brings back so 
many memories of earlier Bardot pic- 
torials. I showed it to one of my bud- 
dies, and he just stared at it. 1 didn't 
ask him to explain it, because there 
are some things guys don’t want 
to talk about.—Mark Tomlonson, 
'TOMLONSON @wmich.edu 


THE BEAUTIFUL 40S 


Playmate of the 
Year 1976 Lillian 
Müller is now in 
her mid-40s and a 
parent, too, but 
neither age nor 
motherhood has 
slowed her. In 
Lillian's book 
Feel Great, Be 
Beautiful 
Over 40 (Gen- 
eral Publish- 
| ing), Müller 
and writer 
John Coleman 
offer diet, exer- 
cise and beauty advice with a com- 
monsense approach. Feel Great in- 
cludes menus, shopping guides and 
yoga and workout tips. Using herself 
as proof of her expertise in these 
matters, Múller might have sugges- 
tions your own playmate will like. 


PLAYMATE 
TRIVIA 


*MEASUREMENTS* 


PLAYMATE NEWS 


I'm single and I'm working hard. My 

Showtime series, Sherman Oaks, is up 

and running, and I did another se- 

ries in Europe called 

LA. Heat. I've had 

a bunch of guest 

roles on TV shows, 

too. Acting class has 

definitely helped 

me, but PLAYBOY 

opened the doors. 

Now I'd like to make 

action movies. I’m 

lifting weights and working out to get 

ready.—RENEE TENISON, Miss Novem- 
ber 1989; PMOY 1990 


In the days when I traveled for 
PLAYBOY, a lot of feminists were out 
there protesting. Sometimes they 
picketed the hotels 
where I stayed. It 
was ludicrous. I was 
with PLAYBOY because 
I chose to be, not be- 
cause anyone forced 
me. Posing made me 
feel good about being 
a woman. It was a pos- 
itive experience all the 

way.—CANDY LOVING, Miss January 
1979; 25th Anniversary Playmate 


JOYCE NIZZARI: 

"When my son was eight, he 
found some Ptaysoys in a park 
in Hawaii. He said, ‘Would you 
ever do anything like this?’ | 
said, ‘I just did.’ It was no big 
deal to him.” 


Every Playmate since Miss October 
1959 has filled out a Data Sheet, all of 
which are now stored in a tempera- 
ture-controlled vault. Be- 
» sides turn-ons and turnoffs 
(which were once called 
“pet peeves”), the Data 
Sheets contain the measure- 
ments and tastes for each 
Playmate. Originally de- 
signed to provide a writer 
with background material 
for the pictorial text, the 
questionnaires were filed 
away until 1977, when Hef 
decided that they should be 
in the magazine. In July of 
that year, Sondra Theo- 
dore’s Data Sheet became 
the first to appear in PLAYBOY. 


PLAYMATE GOSSIP. 


Miss April 1966, Karla Conway, 
who goes by the name Sachi, is a 
watercolorist. She displayed her 
figure studies at the April Glam- 
ourcon in Los Angeles. - . . 
Julie Cialini, Miss Febru- 

А агу 1994 and the 1995 
PMOY, has formed a fan 

club with exclusive ac- 

S24 cess to her autographed 
MÁ photos, cards, posters 
and calendars. For more 

info, send a stamped, self-ad- 
dressed envelope to her at PO. 
Box 5504, Culver City, California 
90231... Nadine Chanz, Miss 
October 1996, is appearing in two 
TV series in Germany. . . . Miss 
August 1994, Maria Checa, is 
hosting Playboy TV in South 
America. . . . Dianne Chandler, 
Miss September 1966, is a travel 
agent in Atlanta. During the 
Olympic Games last year, she 
worked for the chairman of 
Sportsworld International, which 
gave her an in on tickets. . . . Miss 
December 1992, Barbara Moore, 
can be seen on Baywatch and in 
the erotic thriller Temptress. . . - 
Our Miss June 1993, Alesha 
Oreskovich, ran into Arnold 


Schwarzenegger at the opening 
of Nashville's Planet Holly- 
wood. ... In the 1970 Playmate 
calendar, Miss October 1967, 
Reagan Wilson, traveled into 
space on Apollo 12. Now she has 
an antique and rug business in 
Topanga Canyon, California. 
Magic carpets and spaceships. . . . 
Miss June 1969, Helena Antonac- 
cio, is an artist and an astrologer. 
She sells her mystic services on 
her Web page. . . . Playmate News 
has hired Miss May 1976, Patricia 
McClain, to research new and in- 
teresting facts for these pages. 
Unlike her former employer, 
we're delighted to trumpet her 
association with us. 


MN 


THERE'S A PLAYBOY ON THE 18 TH GREEN 


There are sublime moments in life when a man feels like 
a PLAYBOY. Like anticipating the 19th hole as you're about 
to finish an exhilarating round of golf, getting ready to 
savor a sense of relief and relaxation. 

On those wistful occasions, there's a cigar by 

Don Diego to heighten the sensation. 


The PLAYBOY cigar, meticulously hand-crafted with 
and aroma, enhances any setting, 
ou might smoke it. 


Light one up! Let it bring 
out the PLAYBOY in you. 


The PLAYBOY cigar [Il] 
by Don Diego, 
in five styles. 


For a list of select retailers in the United States, plea: 
Playboy by Don Diego Cigars, PO. Box 407166, Ft. Lauderdale, Fl 333 


PL ATYEB DE 


182 


33renuptíal 


Agreement 


From the Law Offices of 
Giles, Finkelstein and Hart 


To all to Whom this may come to affect or may concern, 
know ye that itis understood that on the fourth day of February, 
Nineteen Hundred and Ninety-Five, that Jim Morrissey (hereafter 
known as the First Party) and Jeanne Fulton (hereafter known as 
the Second Party) are entering the contract of wedlock, 


‘The following constitutes a full, legal and binding arrangement of 
said properties set before this date. This agreement shall be executed 


in multiple copies. 


It isalso to be understood that both the First Party and the 
Second Party arc in complete agreement regarding the contents of 
this documentand have stated so by signature and by witness on 
the fourth day of February, Nineteen Hundred and Ninety Five. This 
agreement cannot be changed orally. 


‘The following below is a full, detailed breakdown of said agreement 
regarding all properties of consequence shared by the First Party and 
the Second Party. 


HIS 


Season Tickets 
Crown Royal 


HERS 


Everything else 


1 алу provision of this Agreement shall later be found void or invalid in 
‘whole or in part, the remainder of this Agreement, and the 


remainder of that part of this Agreement not found void or invalid, 
shall remain in full force and effect. 


Эп Witness Whereol, we he undeaigned, on this date, the fourth day of February Nincicen Hundred and Ninety Five. ire In complete agreement with the above 
Arrangement and willabide by the content of the document from the day of inception to the dey the contract has been nullifed by в cour of ew 


First Party 


Second Party 


Those who appreciate quality enjoy it responsibly. 


(©1995 CROWN ROYAL IMPORTED IN THE BOTTLE® BLENDED CANADIAN WHISKY=40% ALCOHOL BY VOLUME (80 PROOF) «JOSEPH E. SEABRAM & SONS, NEW YORK, NY 


— ——pIGITAL SHARPSHOOTERS ——— 


f playing photo editor, art director and multimedia mogul 
sounds like fun, get yourself a digital still camera. This prized 
tool of techno nerds is now available from atleast a dozen man- 
ufacturers, with features that make it easier—and more afford- 
able—to process photos on your own, or add them to computer 
documents, e-mail or personal Web pages. Unlike traditional film, 


which is restricted to 24- and 36-shot rolls, digital shooters store 
lots more images on memory chips or PCMCIA cards that can be 
reused indefinitely. Because there's no film, the photographs you 
take will be for your eyes only. And thanks to easy-to-use software 
such as Adobe Photo Deluxe and Microsoft Picture It, you can 
manipulate and retouch your work to your hard drive's content. 


Four Mac- and PC-compatible digital shooters with LCD view screens (clockwise from top left): Sony's DSC-F1 stores 108 images in memory 
and features a pivoting 35mm lens and flash, plus wireless PC connectivity ($850). Nikon's Coolpix 100, with flash, 6.2mm lens and variable 
shutter speeds, captures 42 images on a PCMCIA card ($530). The Olympus D-300L has an f2.8 wide-anple lens, auto flash and a storage ca- 
pacity of 120 images ($1125). Sanyo's DSC-1, with an (2.8 lens and 60-image memory, connects directly to a computer or TV (about $800). 


WHERE & HOW TO BUY ONPAGE 170. 


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MODE 
> 


SET 


GRAPEVINE 


If They Could See Me Now 


Before The Nanny, whining was for tired two-year-olds. Now FRAN DRESCHER has 

| made it an art form. With her weekly visit to the small screen and last winter's The 
Beautician and the Beast, Drescher spells 

Noo Yawk any way she wants to. 


Love and Carlos 
For 30 years, CARLOS SANTANA has 
been a force. And he can play a guitar. 
Last year Santana received Billboard's 
distinguished creative achievement 
award. Check out his recent Brothers. 


From a Whisper 
to a Shout 
TONI BRAXTON sings 
like an angel. The 
critics say so, and 
the 4 million fans 
who bought Secrets 
obviously agree. 
You can sneak a 
peek at Toni. 


April 
in June 
APRIL GLUECKERT 
has modeled for 
Bacardi rum, for 
Miller beer and, 
on the runway, 
for Harley- 
Davidson mo- 
torcycle al- 
tire. But 
nothing beats 
nothing at all. 


A | B 4 Hy Nothing but Net 


MEREDITH ASHBY attends college in Hawaii. In the past few years, 
she has appeared in 14 beauty pageants. One look 
at her photo will tell you why. 


starred in Blond 
Heaven and has 
been on Hit 
Squad, Bay- 
watch and an 
ABC After 
School Special. 
She leads with 
her beads. 

L 


| 


£ 


The Fresh Prince 
After conquering CDs and TV, WILL 
SMITH has put together an action-film 
career. Look for him in Men in Black 
with Tommy Lee Jones and in Bad 
Boys II. A lead in John Singleton's 
baseball drama, Brushback, is in the 
works. He's bigger than Bel Air now. 


POTPOURRI 


TO SHOCK A THIEF 


Don't worry about parking your Porsche 
on a dark side street. With the Auto Taser 
locked on the steering wheel, anyone who 
tries to steal the car will be zapped with a 
disabling but nonlethal 5900-milliwatt 
electron pulse. We've been assured that 
the device doesn't cause permanent in- 
juries but merely shocks the thieflong 
enough to foil the crime. Air Taser, Inc. 
sells the Auto Taser for $180. Call 800- 
978-2737 for more information. 


IT SURE BEATS CHEAP DETERGENT 


Next time your girlfriend suggests you get between the sheets or have a 
romp in the hay, she might not be hinting at what you think. Those are 
just two examples of Sheet Scents, a new line of fragrances that you 
spray on your linens. Between the Sheets has a musky aroma, and A 
Romp in the Hay smells like its freshly mown namesake. There are also 
Angel's Caress (vanilla), Harvest Moon (pumpkin pie), Together as One 
(citrus), Cheek to Cheek (baby powder) and Pillowtalk (lavender). 
Price: $20 for each 1.7-ounce bottle. Call 888-214-9389. 


H 


SCOTLAND FOREVER 


Tradition dictates that Scottish men have 
lairs—places where they can relax alone 
or entertain male friends. In honor of 
this custom (and in celebration of the 
brand's 100th anniversary), Famous 
Grouse scotch has published The Man's 
Lair, a 12-page color portfolio depicting 
guys in lairs with a wee dram close at 
hand. Merchandise in the photos is for 
sale. For a free brochure, write Dun- 
woodie Communications, 386 Park Av- 
enue South, New York, NY 10016. 


A NOTSO-TRIVIAL PURSUIT 


What percentage of the earth's surface is covered by land? What's the 
world's fastest-growing source of air pollution? If you know the answers 
to these questions, you might ace Enviro Challenge, a new board game 
that tries to "entertain, educate and encourage preservation," accord- 
ing to its creator, Michael Kashouty. Players choose game pieces and 
make a bid for the office of the International Secretary of the Environ- 
ment by answering questions about climate, natural resources and 
threats to the environment. The most environmentally savvy player 
wins. Á percentage of the game's proceeds goes to environmental orga- 
186 nizations. Price: $40. Call 888-978-8800 to order or for more info. 


OFF WITH ITS HEAD 


Considering the burgeoning 
interest in cigars, it was only 
a matter of time before some- 
one transformed France's fa- 
mous cutting machine into an 
upscale stogie slicer. This sil- 
ver-plated guillotine, made 
by D.W. Dyson of Hudders- 
field, England, stands 20” tall 
(mounted on a marble base) 
and works just like the real 
thing. Price: $1400 plus ship- 
ping. An equally handsome 
version in solid brass goes for 
$950, but those on the cut- 
ting edge will opt for the 
$8000 solid silver model. To 
order, call 011-44-1-484- 
607331. While on the phone, 
ask about DWD's other un- 
usual smoking goodies. 


VIVA COCA-COLA 


‘To compete with the flashy 
attractions on the Strip in Las 
Vegas, Coca-Cola had to 
build something that would 
catch a tourist's eye. Its cre- 
ation? The world's largest 
Coke bottle, made of 7000 
panels of sculpturcd glass. 
Inside the 100-foot bottle are 
two glass elevators that take 
visitors to the World of Coca- 
Cola's interactive exhibits, a 
two-story retail store and a 
soda fountain featuring Coke 
products from many coun- 
tries. Look for it next door to 
the MGM Grand Hotel. 


GET BOMBED 


When you finish drinking 
Bomber's Pin-up beer from 
Global Specialty Imports, be 
sure to save the cans—they 
are quickly becoming collec- 
tor's items. The German-ex- 
ported cans, which are 
bottles and have 
-top lids, feature 
World War Two and Korcan 
War B-52 fighter planes as 
well as gorgeous wartime pin- 
up girls. Inside is 16.9 ounces 
of hearty bock-style beer. 
(Empty cans are available for 
collectors who don't imbibe.) 
: $5 to $6 per can. To 
order, call 800-833-8601. 


STRUT YOUR PUTT 


A miniature-golf course is a good place to prac 
tice putting, but we've found something a bit 
more sophisticated. The Putting Zone is a por- 
table electronic device that claims to improve 
putting accuracy by simulating a par 72 course 
on which each of the 18 holes is different. Be- 
sides an automatic ball return and sensors that 
record ball speed and position, there's a syn- 
thesized human voice that relays your score and 
shouts ten phrases, including “Nice putt!" and 
"Quiet, please!" Price: $150. Call 800-532-1999 


STOGIE SOUNDTRACK 


Smokin’ Jazz, a new CD from Smokin’ Records, 
will appeal to aficionados who want a little 
mood music with their cigars. The CD features 
ten classic cuts to smoke to, including Take Five 
(Dave Brubeck), Satin Doll (Duke Ellington), 
Mack the Knife (Louis Armstrong), Lazy River 
(Pete Fountain) and One O'Clock Jump (Count 
Basie). Call 310-289-7279 to order the $16 CD, 
then play it while puffing on a Playboy cigar. 


188 


NEXT MONTH 


FOREVER FARRAH—BECAUSE WE CARE, AN ENCORE PER- 
FORMANCE BY THE FABULOUS ONE. BEYOND THE HAIR, THE 
SMILE AND THE BOD, FARRAH DEMONSTRATES HER UNIQUE 
STYLE OF BODY PAINTING, YOU WON'T BELIEVE YOUR EYES 


ANTHONY EDWARDS —UNMASKED, THE SERIOUS ER DOCIS 
ANYTHING BUT DULL. HEAR ABOUT HANGING WITH GEORGE 
CLOONEY, ROMANCING MEG RYAN AND BEING CAUGHT BE- 
TWEEN LETTERMAN AND LENO IN A BLOODY AMUSING 
PLAYBOY INTERVIEW BY KEVIN COOK 


PLAYBOY'S HISTORY OF THE SEXUAL REVOLUTION: THE 
THIRTIES—DURING THE DEPRESSION, POVERTY RULED BUT. 
SEX SURVIVED. SO DID NIGHTCLUBS, ABORTION DEBATES, 
THE BATTLE OF THE SEXES AND MAE WEST. PART FOUR INA 
SERIES BY JAMES R. PETERSEN 


1 COULD HAVE TOLD YOU IF YOU HADN'T ASKED—UP 
IN THE MOUNTAINS OF NORTH CAROLINA, WELDON HAS 
FOUND A BEAUTIFUL WIFE TO STEAL. TOO BAD SHE'S CRAZY. 
FICTION BY GEORGE SINGLETON 


STACKED LIKE ME—TO JAN BRESLAUER, A FORMER PRO- 
FESSOR OF ARTS AND FEMINIST STUDIES, A BOOB JOB WAS 
EMPOWERING. HEAR HOW AND WHY SHE WENT FROM 
B TO D WITH HER IDEOLOGY INTACT 


GEORGE LUCAS—THE CREATOR OF STAR WARS AND THE 
GENIUS BEHIND AMERICAN GRAFFITI IS ONCE AGAIN MASTER 
OF THE FORCE—IN HOLLYWOOD. A PLAYBOY PROFILE BY 
BERNARD WEINRAUB 


ASSUME THE POSITION—TO HELP THEM BETTER UNDER- 
STAND WOMEN, MEN AT A MEN'S SEMINAR ARE ASKED TO 
ASSUME SEXUAL POSES. FORTUNATELY, EXHIBITIONISTS 
AND LOVERS OF EROTICA ARE FIGHTING THE BLUENOSES— 
ARTICLE BY CAROL QUEEN 


JON LOVITZ—THE FORMER SNL LIAR FINALLY TELLS THE 
TRUTH ABOUT HIS NUDE SCENE WITH KIM BASINGER, HIS 
MARRIAGE TO GWYNETH PALTROW AND LIFE AS A LESBIAN 
(YEAH, THAT'S THE TICKET) IN A CHEEKY 20 QUESTIONS 
EY DAVID RENSIN 


THE CONVERTIBLE SUMMER FUN CARS HAVE MOVED UP 
IN LUXURY. CHECK OUT THE NEW BREEDS BY MERCEDES, 
FORSCHE, VOLVO, JAGUAR, FORD AND LAMBORGHINI IN AN 
AUTOMOTIVE FEATURE BY KEN GROSS 


PLUS: A SNEAK PEEK AT WHAT DESIGNERS ARE DOING FOR 
FALL, LOS ANGELES’ HOTTEST DJ, THE NEW CROP OF (SUC- 
CESSFUL) PERSONAL DIGITAL ASSISTANTS, TOBACCO ROAD 
AND OUR DARLING MISS JULY, DAPHNEE LYNN DUPLAIX 


Europe's classic sports sedans = BMW Together they form the Subaru All- 


328i, Mercedes C280 The New 1997. 


SUBARU 2.5 6T 


wield incredible horsepower. The new 


Wheel Driving System. A 
and Volvo 850 turbo — system that senses whatever 
dangers lurk ahead, automatically 


Subaru 2.5 GT sports sedan, however, 


shifting power to the wheels that need 


not only possesses 
plenty of horse- 
power, but amazing 
superpowers as well. 
Like the unbeliev- 
able traction of full- 
time All-Wheel Drive. The superior it most. So you can hold your ground 
stability of a horizontally opposed 
engine. And the remarkably smooth 


rain, snow, sleet and gravel. The avail- 


ride of an optimally tuned suspension. able 5-speed Subaru 2.5 GT also packs 


against a menacing cast of archenemies: 


quite a punch, thanks to its powerful 
low-end torque. For the expanded 
version of this action figure’s resume, 
just call 1-800-WANT-AWD, visit our 
website at http://www.subaru.com 

or, better yet, drop 
by your nearest 
Subaru dealer and 
take the amazing 
2.5 GT for a test- 
drive. And in no 
time you'll find yourself doing things 


you never dreamed humanly possible. 


SUBARU. 
The Beautyof All Wheel Drive 


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