My girl and I are having fairly frequent flare-ups about dating others. I agree with her completely that if I do, she should be allowed to also. I agree with her intellectually, but not emotionally. My feelings are, bluntly, that I don't like it a bit. She says this is unfair and I say, "How right you are. I'm selfish and illogical. But I don't feel guilty when I'm dating other girls and I do feel unhappy when you're out with other guys, and you've told me you want me to be totally honest in our relationship." Et cetera. Then she cries or rants and I clam up and the evening is ruined. Last time it happened, I got mad enough to say, calmly and controlledly (or, as she puts it, coldly) that she could take it or leave it, we weren't married and had no obligations to keep seeing each other. My point was -- and is -- if I can't have the relationship on my terms, I'd rather do without it, though I'd far prefer to sustain it. Her point was -- and is -- that any third party would see things her way. As a third party, do you think she is right? -- A. B., New York, New York.
Can you give me a few pointers on the proper way to serve beer? -- D. K., Memphis, Tennessee.
Herewith a few tippler's tips on the fine art of sudsmanship: true brew fanciers should first take care that their beer is not overchilled--exposure to the too-frigid rigors of a freezer usually leads to a loss in head, flavor and aroma, and can cause the telltale haze that spells protein breakdown. Best bet is to cool it in your refrigerator's beverage rack, where the temp is a salubrious 40 to 45 degrees. (If the situation demands quick chilling, give the bottles or cans champagne treatment in a bucket of chopped ice.) To serve yourself right, make sure your glasses come as clean as you can make them -- a dab of grease, soap film, or your lady's lipstick will tend to deflate the frothy head almost on contact. The correct procedure for tender laving care should include washing the glasses to a sparkling state with a detergent, rinsing them well, and then draining them dry; never use a towel. It's a good idea to splash the inside of each glass with cold water just prior to pouring in order to remove any trace of extraneous odors and to help establish a handsome creamy collar. Whether one pours with a hearty plop-plop, or slips the brew silently down the side of the glass doesn't matter a whit, as long as the result is an eye-pleasing balance between body and head. The shape of the glass, too, is purely a matter of esthetics, and not nearly as salient a matter as size: for the maximum in chug-a-lug enjoyment, your suds receptacle should be scaled to the amount you can comfortably quaff before the beer begins to warm and lose its liveliness. Don't sip as you drink; unlike wine, beer is best savored in good, robust swigs. And steer clear of downing your brew directly from the can -- in so doing, you sacrifice both aroma and the pleasurable visual stimulus afforded by the foaming glass. Forearmed with this info, you need be at loggerheads with no man over stylish lager-head imbibing.
I am fouled up in the sock department. I don't like to wear garters, can't stand stretch socks because they feel like they're keeping all the blood from my feet, and don't want to wear anklets because I think it looks pretty square to have your calves showing when you sit down. Is there any solution to my problem? -- A. U., Washington, D.C.
You have no problem, A. U. Not while there are three-quarter-length hose as close at hand (or fool) as the nearest men's store. These come up high enough on the calf to keep you well covered, they don't require garters and won't make your feel feel bloodless.
As a recent convert to the pleasures of smoking a pipe, I'd appreciate your counsel on the proper thickness of the coating that forms inside the bowl. -- N. H., Denver, Colorado.
The coating of carbon inside your pipe's bowl should be 1/16 of an inch thick -- roughly the thickness of a penny.
The cross I have to bear may not seem burdensome to anyone else, but to me it's always presented one especially galling annoyance: I'm very well off financially, and I have never been able to discover whether girls are drawn to me or my money. At the moment, for example, I'm seeing quite a bit of a miss whose endowments are purely personal -- she's as poor as the proverbial church mouse. For no other reason than my own self-esteem, I would like to know which rates higher in her regard: my face or my Caddy, the pleasure of my company or the company stock I own. Is there a way? -- A. S., Palm Beach, Florida.
It shouldn't be hard if you are reasonably observant. Has she got the gimmies, does she seem curious about your wealth or its source, does she demand expensive entertainment in invariable preference to simple pleasures, is she angling for marriage, does she put on airs, does she inquire about your heirs? Any or all of these may be signs of acquisitiveness beyond the call of beauty. Of course, she may pass all tests and scrutiny and still be conning you, but in that case she's bound to reveal herself sooner or later as a girl frequently lacking in spontaneity. Since you can't seem to judge her by her behavior toward you, be aware of her manner with others; for the acute, this is a fairly sure cue. It's likely that in her own sessions of silent thought even your girl doesn't know which she prefers -- you or what's yours: she associates you with affluence and prestige, and probably couldn't imagine you under any other circumstances than those you enjoy. If she strikes you as being fair of mind as well as body, stop torturing yourself with unsolvable riddles. Just be grateful you have the wherewithal to do your romancing in style.
In your recent feature on pocket watches (Timely Revival, February 1962), I note that one of the fine timepieces illustrated therein has its hands set at 18 minutes past eight. I have wondered why this particular time is so often seen in watch advertisements. Is there any logical explanation? -- G. H., Boston, Massachusetts.
A popular and time-honored legend holds that this placement of the hands commemorates the precise minute of Lincoln's death (or, in another version, the moment he was shot). That such a notion is false is proved not only by the actual times involved (Lincoln was wounded shortly after 10 in the evening, and died about 7:30 the following morning), but by the simple fact that clocks and watches indicating 8:18 were a familiar sight in jewelers' windows for many years before Booth indulged in his historic gunplay. A similar fanciful belief persists in England, where many maintain that this hour marks the time that Guy Fawkes and his explosive crew planned to detonate the Houses of Parliament (and with them, King James I). The real reason is purely one of sensible symmetry: at 8:18 the hands are equidistant from the six and the 12, and leave an unobstructed view of the upper portion of the dial where the brand name customarily appears.
All reasonable questions -- from fashion, food and drink, hi-fi and sports cars to dating dilemmas, taste and etiquette -- will be personally answered if the writer includes a stamped, self-addressed envelope. Send all letters to The Playboy Advisor, Playboy Building, 232 E. Ohio Street, Chicago 11, Illinois. The most provocative, pertinent queries will be presented on these pages each month.