Issue: 19660201

Tuesday, February 1, 1966
February
2
True
65
Friday, February 19, 2016
5/10/2018 12:43:59 PM

Articles
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Esquire
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Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0001.xml
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MILLER BREWING COMPANY: Miller High Life
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MILLER BREWING COMPANY
Miller High Life
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Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0002.xml
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Jaguar Cars Inc.
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Jaguar Cars Inc.
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Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0003.xml
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2,3
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LITERARY GUILD OF AMERICA, Inc.
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LITERARY GUILD OF AMERICA, Inc.
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Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0004.xml
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4
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AVIS RENT A CAR SYSTEM, INC.
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AVIS RENT A CAR SYSTEM, INC.
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Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0005.xml
tableOfContents
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Esquire
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Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0006.xml
masthead
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masthead
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Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0007.xml
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Advertisement: ARPEGE
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ARPEGE
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Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0008.xml
article
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6
PUBLISHER’S PAGE
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On the Mixed Pleasures of Uncovering New Talent
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A.G.
One of the paradoxical attributes of Esquire is that while it has been famous for over three decades for the number and nature of the Big Names it has published—fifteen winners of the Nobel Prize for Literature; more than any other magazine —it has never had quite equal billing on the American-magazine scene for its no less consistent role as an incubator of new talent.
Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0009.xml
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Advertisement: 'That Man'
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'That Man'
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Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0010.xml
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6
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A BALSA HOTEL
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A BALSA HOTEL
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Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0011.xml
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6
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HARRIET CARTER: SCAN-O-MATIC COIN VIEWER
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HARRIET CARTER
SCAN-O-MATIC COIN VIEWER
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Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0012.xml
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6
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BAHAMA PALM SHORES
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BAHAMA PALM SHORES
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Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0013.xml
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7
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LASALLE EXTENSION UNIVERSITY
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LASALLE EXTENSION UNIVERSITY
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Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0014.xml
article
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BACKSTAGE WITH ESQUIRE
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BACKSTAGE WITH ESQUIRE
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“When abroad,” Samuel Johnson told his good friend James Boswell (1740-1795), “read diligently the great book of mankind.” This Boswell did; this comedian Woody Allen (1935) is also doing as shown on our cover, though the book he is reading is entitled Ann-Margret (1941) and would not be described as typically mankind.
Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0015.xml
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J. B. WILLIAMS COMPANY, INC.: CURRIER & IVES
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J. B. WILLIAMS COMPANY, INC.
CURRIER & IVES
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Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0016.xml
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VOLKSWAGEN OF AMERICA, INC.
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VOLKSWAGEN OF AMERICA, INC.
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Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0017.xml
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ALEXANDER HAMILTON INSTITUTE
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ALEXANDER HAMILTON INSTITUTE
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Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0018.xml
article
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10,16
THE SOUND AND THE FURY
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THE SOUND AND THE FURY
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Perusing your latest (December) issue. Page 214 (Redesigning the Twentieth Century): “. . . between now and the Year of Our Lord 2000, we will all be made more comfortable than we thought possible.” Page 224 (The Doomsday Calendar): “It. is totally inconceivable that the world can last more than halfway through 1966.”
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Advertisement
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Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0020.xml
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Manhattan
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Manhattan
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Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0021.xml
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BLACK'S READERS SERVICE CO.
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BLACK'S READERS SERVICE CO.
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Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0022.xml
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12,15
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RCA VICTOR RECORD CLUB
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RCA VICTOR RECORD CLUB
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Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0023.xml
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16
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JULES BERMAN & ASSOC., INC.: Kahlúa
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JULES BERMAN & ASSOC., INC.
Kahlúa
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Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0024.xml
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17
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COLUMBIA RECORD CLUB
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COLUMBIA RECORD CLUB
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Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0025.xml
article
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18,22,24,26
OLD WORLD FOR NEW WORLDLIES
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TRAVEL NOTES
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RICHARD JOSEPH
This column will represent a new device in travel writing—I’ll be footnoting footnotes. On this month’s cover you see film beauty Ann-Margret and comedian Woody Allen, and then running all the way from pages 55 through 71 is a detailed account of the European trip they didn’t take together, beautifully illustrated by Harold Krieger’s photographs.
Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0026.xml
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Advertisement: BALMAIN
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BALMAIN
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Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0027.xml
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Advertisement
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Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0028.xml
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Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0029.xml
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BOOK-OF-THE-MONTH CLUB, INC.
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BOOK-OF-THE-MONTH CLUB, INC.
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Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0030.xml
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MEM COMPANY, INC.: English Leather
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MEM COMPANY, INC.
English Leather
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Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0031.xml
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Advertisement: Admiral
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Admiral
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Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0032.xml
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Advertisement
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Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0033.xml
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THE HISTORY BOOK CLUB
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THE HISTORY BOOK CLUB
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Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0034.xml
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KIMBERLY-CLARK CORPORATION
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KIMBERLY-CLARK CORPORATION
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Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0035.xml
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Columbia Records Distribution Corp.
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Columbia Records Distribution Corp.
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Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0036.xml
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Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, Inc.
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Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, Inc.
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Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0037.xml
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Citroen Cars Corp.
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Citroen Cars Corp.
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Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0038.xml
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Helena Rubinstein, Inc.: Emotion
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Helena Rubinstein, Inc.
Emotion
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Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0039.xml
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ZENITH
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ZENITH
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Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0040.xml
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BOAC
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BOAC
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Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0041.xml
article
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32,34,36,37
FILMS
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FILMS
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DWIGHT MACDONALD
Speaking as an expert on the subject, I would say that Tony Richardson’s latest movie is his worst. I’d even go so far as to say that The Loved One is the most depressing comedy I’ve seen since the Mekas Brothers’ Hallelujah the Hills!, which also tried to make up for a poverty of comic invention (and style) by horseplay and anything-goes hysteria.
Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0042.xml
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Hammond Organ Company
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Hammond Organ Company
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Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0043.xml
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PARFUMS CORDAY, INC.: FAME
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PARFUMS CORDAY, INC.
FAME
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Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0044.xml
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33
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THE LONGINES SYMPHONETTE SOCIETY
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THE LONGINES SYMPHONETTE SOCIETY
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Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0045.xml
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Burlington Industries
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Burlington Industries
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Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0046.xml
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General Motors Corp.
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General Motors Corp.
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Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0047.xml
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STETSON
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STETSON
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Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0048.xml
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Advertisement
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Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0049.xml
article
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RECORDINGS
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RECORDINGS
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MARTIN MAYER
On the day Nicolai Ghiaurov made his debut at the Met, this observer was en route from Lagos to Ibadan, stopping periodically at roadblocks where selfish young Nigerian soldiers wanted to take my machine gun away from me, if I had one. So I don’t know how the Bulgarian basso did—but if he was anything less than sensational, the problem lies with our public and press, not with Ghiaurov, who has the biggest and best bass voice of my time, the most self magnifying stage presence since Pinza’s.
Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0050.xml
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Advertisement: DRY SACK
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DRY SACK
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Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0051.xml
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Advertisements
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Ford
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Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0052.xml
article
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40,42,44
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BOOKS
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MALCOLM MUGGERIDGE
“Often, at the end of the day, the President would leave his desk, throw open the French windows leading into the Rose Garden, walk out on the colonnade and clap his hands. At this signal every child and dog in the vicinity would rush across the green lawn into his arms.
Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0053.xml
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Liebert Neckwear
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Liebert Neckwear
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Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0054.xml
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41
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MEXICAN GOVERNMENT TOURISM DEPARTMENT
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MEXICAN GOVERNMENT TOURISM DEPARTMENT
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Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0055.xml
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Superscope, Inc.
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Superscope, Inc.
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Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0056.xml
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General Motors
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General Motors
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Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0057.xml
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44
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RCA Victor
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RCA Victor
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Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0058.xml
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Advertisement
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Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0059.xml
article
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46,48,50,52,90,91,92,93
FICTION
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Some Thoughts on the Meaning of Life
To find the answer, go to the library, take out all the books on How to Live and Be Happy, synthesize them, and then . . .
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Junius Adams
SOME THOUGHTS ON THE MEANING OF LIFE (Continued from page 93) Mudd sat quietly in the stern. After a while she began to trail her hand in the water. “It’s peaceful here, isn’t it?” she said. “We live so far from nature in our mechanized society, don’t you think, Mr. Watson?” “Call me Stanley.” “All right, Stanley. And you may call me Belle.” “Belle. That’s a lovely name, but are you sure that you don’t have some other name that is closer to the real you? I don’t know why, but the name Belle doesn’t quite satisfy me.” “Why, Stanley, what a strange thing to say!” “Nevertheless, that is my feeling.” “Stanley, you must be a sensitive, a psychic personality. No one else has ever guessed that about me. The fact is, I do have another name. I never tell it.” “Tell me.” “Well. . . .” She took on a bashful, indrawn look. “It’s—no, I can’t!” “You must!” “Well, it’s—Gisella.” Stanley stopped rowing and shipped the oars. “Gisella. How musical. Yes, that is much more you, as I see you.” “But you must promise not to tell.” “I promise, Gisella.” He seized her hands and squeezed them ; though soft, they had an inert, lumpy resistance. “That will be our secret, right?” “Right.” “By the way,” he said, drawing World’s Love Poetry from his pocket, “I also brought you this, besides the candy, I mean. Or do you already have it in your library?” “No, I don’t have it,” she said, inspecting it with a critical frown. “But it looks like a good little anthology. I probably know many of the poems in it.” “Shall I read you my own favorite?” “Please do.” Opening the book at random, he read to her a poem beginning, “My love is like to ice, and I to fire.” “Yes, that is a lovely sonnet, isn’t it? And you read very well, Stanley.” “Now you must read me something.” “Oh, all right.” She browsed through the book for a while. “Here is a very famous one; you probably know it.” And she read the poem, “Come live with me and be my Love/ And we will all the pleasures prove. . . .” Her precise schoolteacherish voice sounded pleasant against the quiet lapping of the water and the roar of distant traffic. “Beautiful, my dear Gisella,” he said when she had finished. “You read like a true artist. Please go on and read me some more.” And they continued around the lake. Gisella was clearly enjoying herself. She read many poems, putting, as she loosened up, more fervor into each succeeding one. Finally, as she was finishing Song, by Sir John Suckling, which begins with “Why so pale and wan,” and ends with the line, “The devil take her!”, she made such a sweeping gesture of emphasis with her free hand that the boat tipped to one side and Stanley, missing the water with his oarstroke, fell off his seat backward. Gisella gave a little shriek of fright. Stanley, controlling one first flash of annoyance, began to laugh, turning the mishap into a joke. Gisella joined in, laughing until the tears came to her eyes. “I think that’s enough poetry for now,” she said, after she had dried her eyes and blown her nose. “Yes, it’s time to explore our island,” said Stanley. He turned the boat around. The island was small, but with denser vegetation than the rest of the park. Except for two sailors and their girls, who were all standing at the water’s edge and shying rocks and clumps of dirt at a floating beer can, it was free of people. Stanley and Gisella, hand in hand, wandered about the place. They came to a clearing in which the grass and the trees, advantageously lit by the slanting rays of the sun, seemed particularly lush. “Isn’t it wonderful here,” said Gisella, giving his hand a squeeze. “I feel like—like just kicking off my shoes and running until I drop!” “Go ahead,” said Stanley. “I dare you.” “Oh, you do, do you?” she said, looking at him archly. Then she stepped out of her shoes and began to run, arms outstretched, to and fro in the grass. She moved stiffly, all of a piece, like a sheep gamboling. Stanley watched her for a minute and then ran after her. He let her dodge away from him a couple of times, and then he caught her. “Oh,” she panted, “I’m all out of breath!” He kissed her. She slapped him playfully on the mouth. “Naughty-naughty, mustn’t!” They retrieved her shoes and went and sat near the water. Stanley took off his glasses and laid his head in her lap. “You look quite different without your glasses,” she said. “And very handsome, too.” “Thank you.” He glanced at his watch: it was nearly five. Settling his head to a more comfortable position, he closed his eyes and without much difficulty fell asleep. . . . When he awoke the sun was almost setting. Gisella was gazing down at him. “Have I been asleep long?” he asked. “Oh, for a while. But I don’t mind. I rather like watching you sleep. Just like a little child.” She rumpled his hair. “We’d better be getting back.” They walked back to the boat, Gisella holding his arm possessively. The attendant was waiting on the pier for them. “You’re the last ones out,” he said in an aggrieved voice. “Me and AÍ, there”—he pointed to another man who was leaning against an old pickup truck parked next to the oar shack—“we’re waiting to go home.” “Tell me,” Stanley asked as he was settling up for the boat, “is there a restaurant in the vicinity where one may dine by candlelight?” “Geez, I don’t know. I don’t eat out much. Maybe AÍ would know. Hey, Al,” he called out. “Maybe you know. Is there an eating place around here where they got candlelight?” Al came ambling over. “Howard Johnson’s?” he suggested. “Naw, they got no candles at Howard Johnson’s. This man wants a place where they got candles.” AÍ considered the problem. “Yeah,” he said, finally, “that ritzy joint over on Carl Schurz Boulevard. You know, The Hideaway. They got a sign, ‘Famous Candlelight Dinners.’ ” “That’s right. I should’ve thought of that myself. I seen that sign a hundred times. The Hideaway,” he said to Stanley, “corner of Carl Schurz and Willow Wood.” “How far away is that?” “About how far away would you say that is, AÍ?” “Oh, about fifteen, twenty blocks. Two miles, say.” “Do you go past there on your way home?” “Not right past there, no,” said AÍ. “I tell you what,” said Stanley, “as long as it’s more or less on your way, I’ll give you two dollars if you drop us off there.” “Well, now, I don’t know about that,” said AÍ. “We’ll be no trouble. We can ride in the back.” “Well, I guess that’s all right. You can sit on them burlap bags. Yeah, I guess it’s all right.” “Fine. Let’s go, then.” He handed AÍ the two dollars. He gave Gisella a boost into the truck and climbed in after her. The ride was windy and the seatingprecarious, but Gisella’s eyes were gleaming with enjoyment. She leaned against him and shouted proudly, “Stanley, you’re an utter madcap!” At the Hideaway, a pretentious building with a fieldstone front and clapboard sides, situated in a landscaped parking lot, a smoothly dressed man with a carnation in his buttonhole who had been watching them clamber out of the truck stood blocking the doorway with a disapproving expression on his face. “Can I help you with anything?” he asked. “Yes, we’d like a table for two,” Stanley said. “Our Cadillac broke down on the highway. We hitched a ride in that truck.” Gisella squeezed his arm convulsively, suppressing laughter. “Say, that’s too bad,” the man said. “But welcome to The Hideaway. You folks from out of town?” “Hollywood, California,” Stanley said. Gisella squeezed again, digging her fingers in hard. “Is that so,” the man said. “We had one of the stars of Wagon Train in here for dinner the other night.” “My friend and I are on the literary side of the picture business,” Stanley said. “You probably wouldn’t know us.” “Stanley, you’re irrepressible,” Gisella said when they were alone at the table. “It’s positively embarrassing going out with you. But I love you for it,” she added, devouring him with her eyes. They ordered, to quote the menu, “Our Famous French Onion Soup, Carefully Prepared from Specially Selected Onions, Finest Beef Stock, and Heavenly Seasonings, Topped with Crunchy Croutons and Imported Grated Parmesan Cheese”; “Sirloin Tips Extraordinaire, Tender Slices of Choicest Beef Sirloin, Simmered to Perfection in an Ambrosian Sauce of Wine, Mushrooms, Herbs and Spices”; and a bottle of rosé wine. “Tell me about yourself,” said Stanley when they had settled into their meal. “Oh, there isn’t much to tell. I grew up in a little Ohio town. I had a very happy early childhood. My father was a dear man. I loved him very much. He was a veterinarian. I used to love to go with him and watch him work on the farm animals. He died when I was ten.” Stanley put one hand on hers. “I was a quiet, sensitive child,” she continued. “I kept out of the rough and tumble that other children love. Books and nature were what I liked best. Daddy was the only one who truly understood me. He was an inspiration to me. When he died I felt for a long time that the sunshine had gone out of my life. Then later there was a boy whom I was close to, but he went away. So you see, my life has been touched with tragedy.” “I should say it has.” “Growing up with my mother and my sisters was hard for me. Mother is an upright woman, a very fair woman, but she had no sympathy for my thoughts and ambitions. She was quite prominent locally—chairman of the Toastmistress Club, in fact—and she just couldn’t understand anyone who spurned money and social status. My sisters got along with her better —they’ve both made good marriages since—but I was a rebel.” “Good for you.” “So, things finally came to a head and I broke off my college career and came out here to be on my own.” “Tell me,” Stanley said, “you’re a poet, are you not?” “I like to think of myself as a poet,” she said, “but of course, I’m still as yet unpublished.” “You must read me your work sometime soon, perhaps tonight.” “Well, yes, sometime soon I will. And how about you, now, Stanley,” she said, “how did you come to be the fabulous personality you are?” “I’m a local boy,” he said, “descended on both sides from early settlers. Like you, I’m half an orphan. My father died in 1939. He shot himself.” “Oh, how terrible.” “He was an Army officer, a captain in the Regular Army, and he had just been passed over for promotion. That meant a lot to him. He was a hard man, hard on himself and hard on others. He used to beat me pretty regularly.” “Oh, my poor Stanley.” “We were in Panama when he killed himself—we moved around quite a bit from post to post when I was little. My mother and I brought him back here to be buried, and we settled down in our old house. I went through high school and graduated in the upper third of my class. I would have been even closer to the top except that my tendency to probe and to question made the teachers resent me.” “You, too, were a rebel, then.” “Yes. Anyway, by the time I finished high school we were well into World War II, and I enlisted in the Army. I came back with the rank of Master Sergeant. I was considered a model soldier by my superiors, but the men disliked me—I was a strict disciplinarian, and I refused to swear and carouse the way they did.” “Isn’t it strange the way people can dislike you for doing the right thing?” “Oh, I’m used to being disliked by the hoi polloi. It’s the price one has to pay for having an inner spirit of independence, I feel.” “That’s so true.” “After my discharge I enrolled for a college course at State, but I quit after less than a semester. I didn’t see eye to eye with my instructors on many points, and the whole thing struck me as a waste of time. As a matter of fact, immediately subsequent to that, I read through all the books on both the required and the recommended reading lists for all of the courses I had contemplated taking in the whole four years, on my own, and in less than six months.” “My goodness, Stanley, what an ambitious project.” “When I set myself a goal,” Stanley said, gazing into Gisella’s eyes, “I generally achieve it.” “I’m sure you do,” she said, and looked away with the hint of a blush. “Then I came with WeatherfordHallotex, and I’ve been with them ever since. But I don’t intend to stay with them forever.” “What will you do?” “I haven’t got that precisely formulated as yet. At the moment, I’m doing some studies in practical and esoteric philosophy—self-help and so. I might write a book on that later.” “Those books sell very well.” “Yes, they do. That would tie in well with another goal of mine : financial independence.” “You certainly are purposeful.” “Yes, I consider myself so. But enough talk about me. Now that we know each other better, I propose a toast.” He raised his glass: “To love, poetry, and the future!” “I’ll drink to that,” she said. Stanley studied Gisella. She had a bloom on her from the sun and air and excitement, and from the wine. The candlelight smoothed and softened her features in a most flattering way. She was attractive. When they had finished their meal, he ordered a cab to be telephoned for. They sat very close together in the cab. Once Gisella leaned across him to look at something out the window and one of her breasts pressed softly into the back of his hand. “I’m coming up for a while, to hear your poetry,” he said. “Oh, no, really, I don’t think you should.” “I insist on it.” “Very well, but I warn you, I’m putting you out at eleven o’clock, ready or not.” At her apartment, Gisella went into the bathroom to freshen up. Stanley set the phonograph to playing softly and turned the lights low. Gisella brought the maroon binder over to the sofa and sat down next to him. “This is my finished work,” she said. “I have other things in progress, but they need polishing. I won’t read you the first one,” she said, leafing past it. “It’s too long.” She began to read, “Bold lover, why do you falter thus, And avert your glance from mine? Is it that you. . . .” Stanley put an arm around her and brushed her neck with his lips, not listening much. She squirmed away from the kiss. He pulled her closer to him. Still reading, she leaned her head on his shoulder. “Sad moon, so cold and pale and far away, Behind yon misty cloud, You echo my own thoughts tonight, Forlorn, and cold, and grey----” He began to caress her gently. When he approached certain areas— the breast, the thigh—she would shrug away from him. Once she kissed him quickly and pushed him away again. He became more insistent with his caresses; she kept fending them off. Finally, he turned her around and kissed her roughly. “I thought we were here to read poetry,” she said when he let her go. “Your verses are beautiful but you are more beautiful,” he said. He took the poetry manuscript out of her hand and put it on the floor. Then he pulled her to him passionately. She still resisted. He broke forcibly through her resistance. She began to tremble, and then to weep. After a while, he said, “I think it’s time to let the bed down now.” She turned her face to the wall, sobbing. He went to the mirrored door and opened it. The bed came partway down, then stuck. He struggled with it for a few moments and it finally came down with a clatter. He carried her to it. . . . Three hours later, he raised himself up in bed and said, “I think I’d better go now.” She put her arms around his neck, imprisoning him. She was surprisingly strong. “Oh my lover, my lover, my lover, you must never leave me.” She kissed him greedily. “You’re speaking metaphorically, of course.” “I’ll talk any way you want me to, my darling, any way at all. Urnmm, yummy-yumyum !” “Then I order you to say ‘Good night, Stanley, dear. Thank you for a lovely evening, and I hope we’ll see each other again soon.’ ” “Good night, Stanley, dear. Et cetera and so forth. And I order you to return tomorrow night for some more of the same.” “I will return, very, very soon.” “Tomorrow !” “Very soon.” “Stinker!” He got out of bed and dressed. Gisella lay naked on the bed gazing at him. “Kiss me,” she commanded. He gave her a sharp, dry kiss. She padded after him to the door and wrenched his neck slightly giving him one last kiss and squeeze. “Don’t call me Gisella at the office,” she whispered. “Very well. Good night, Miss Mudd.” “Good night, Mr. Watson, sir.” She stood in the doorway, still naked, and watched him go down the stairs. Although it was a distance, he had decided to walk home. The night was cool and brisk now. It had all gone rather well, he thought, collecting his impressions of the evening, except for the fact that Gisella had proved to be unexpectedly passionate, with a tendency to loud moaning, and that things had lasted rather too long for his taste. And there was the danger of her importuning him later, though he would think of a way to deal with that. Still, despite these reservations, he had had what could be considered a quite satisfactory night of love. Coming to the top of a hill, he looked up at the cloudless sky. The stars, awesome both in number and in brilliance, seemed to press down on him. Wondering whether the experience just past had brought him any closer to the infinite, he paused and opened himself up to the universe. There was no particular feeling of anything. “I’ve missed you this time, Brahma,” he said finally, “but I’ll get you yet!” -Hf Stanley Nightwine Watson was sitting in his room one Saturday afternoon, trying to think a way out of his perplexities, when it occurred to him in a flash that he had no clear-cut idea of the meaning and purpose of life. He picked up a pencil and a scratch pad and wrote, “I must discover the meaning and purpose of life, if not a universal meaning then a personal or solipsistic one, for otherwise I am in direct or eventual danger of going crazy!”
Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0060.xml
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46
46
[no value]
[no value]
Christian Herald
[no value]
Christian Herald
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0061.xml
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47
47
[no value]
[no value]
Ford
[no value]
Ford
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0062.xml
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48
48
[no value]
[no value]
Caswell-Massey Co. Ltd.
[no value]
Caswell-Massey Co. Ltd.
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0063.xml
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48
48
[no value]
[no value]
ROOTES MOTORS, INC.
[no value]
ROOTES MOTORS, INC.
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0064.xml
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48
48
[no value]
[no value]
Hetland & Stevens Inc.
[no value]
Hetland & Stevens Inc.
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0065.xml
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49
49
[no value]
[no value]
Kayser-Roth
[no value]
Kayser-Roth
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0066.xml
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50
50
[no value]
[no value]
RENFIELD IMPORTERS, LTD: MARTINI & ROSSI
[no value]
RENFIELD IMPORTERS, LTD
MARTINI & ROSSI
[no value]
[no value]
Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0067.xml
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51
51
[no value]
[no value]
General Motors Corporation
[no value]
General Motors Corporation
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0068.xml
article
52
52,72,73
FICTION
[no value]
Messenger, What Tidings?
No news is good news, good news is good news, bad news is not permitted
[no value]
[no value]
Mary Durant
Isabelle bent over the basin and scoured the shampoo into her hair with her long fingernails. “Tell him I’ve got to get to Frankfurt. For God’s sake, it wouldn’t kill him to give me the fare.” She groped for a towel, wiped the soap from around her eyes and squinted at her younger sister Nora, who stood by the steamed window.
Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0069.xml
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52
52
[no value]
[no value]
Advertisement: TABU
[no value]
[no value]
TABU
[no value]
[no value]
Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0070.xml
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52
52
[no value]
[no value]
Advertisement: ESQUIRE BOOKS
[no value]
[no value]
ESQUIRE BOOKS
[no value]
[no value]
Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0071.xml
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53
53
[no value]
[no value]
Bahamas Ministry of Tourism
[no value]
Bahamas Ministry of Tourism
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0072.xml
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54
54
[no value]
[no value]
BUICK MOTOR
[no value]
BUICK MOTOR
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0073.xml
article
55
55
OLD WORLD FOR NEW WORLDLIES
[no value]
Attention! See Europe with the King of the International Set (Me).
Not to mention the star's star Ann-Margret
[no value]
[no value]
Woody Allen
[no value]
Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0074.xml
article
57
57,58,59,60,61,61A
OLD WORLD FOR NEW WORLDLIES
[no value]
LONDON for Lovers
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0075.xml
article
62
62,63,64
OLD WORLD FOR NEW WORLDLIES
[no value]
PARIS for Pussycats
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0076.xml
article
65
65
OLD WORLD FOR NEW WORLDLIES
[no value]
MUNICH for Munchausens
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0077.xml
article
66
66,67,68,69,70,71
OLD WORLD FOR NEW WORLDLIES
[no value]
ROME for Revelers
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0078.xml
article
74
74,75,116,117
FACTS OF CAR LIFE
[no value]
Four Great Honest Mechanics
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
<p>The American motorist is at the mercy of the automobile mechanic. Or so it seems. People need to keep their cars in working order and don't know how to do it themselves. They must, perforce, accept the mechanic’s diagnosis of the trouble, his inexplicable fiddling, his assurance that now all will be well—and his price.</p>
Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0079.xml
article
76
76,77,78,117,118
ARTICLES
[no value]
Ronald Reagan to the Rescue!
California goes under and the hero tries to save it, but some people would rather drown. Highly recommended by Variety
[no value]
[no value]
Jim Murray
<p>Like a remake of Ben-Hur, any one of a dozen Tarzan movies or a John Ford cavalry picture, California politics is just another wide-screen, full-color action drama these days starring George Murphy, Ronald Reagan and a cast of thousands.</p>
Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0080.xml
article
79
79,80,81,120,121,122,123,124,126,127
ARTICLES
[no value]
A Woman's Place Is on the Mat
The confessions of a big, tough, sensitive, delightful erstwhile lady wrestler
[no value]
[no value]
Rosalyn Drexler
<p>One winter evening in 1950, I walked into my own apartment, where three of my dearest friends (Big Al, Sherm, and Jack) were eating the only food left in the house, and announced that I was going to support them in style. Naturally they thought it was another one of my get-nouveau-riche schemes like the time I thought it would be a cinch to hold up a frozen-food plant.</p>
Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0081.xml
article
82
82,83
PERSPECTIVE
[no value]
Adversaria
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
<p>1. Do not try to salvage old, dry shoe polish by putting the tin on the grill directly above the flame of your stove to melt it. It will burn ferociously. 2. When you have a tin of burning shoe polish on your stove do not panic and knock it off. Bits of flaming polish will stick to the ceiling and walls and burn there.</p>
Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0082.xml
article
84
84,85,86,87,119,120
ARTICLES
[no value]
The New Britain
Can a country that has Shrimpton, and Mods, and Lester, and Wilson be all bad? No. Can it be pretty bad? Yes
[no value]
[no value]
Christopher Booker
<p>The Summer of 1965 was not a good one in England. The rain poured down almost unceasingly, the British Government was wrestling desperately with the third major economic crisis in eight years and the news from abroad, of the wars in Vietnam and India, was made worse in English eyes by the laughable inability of the Prime Minister and his colleagues to influence those events in any way.</p>
Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0083.xml
article
88
88,89,114,116
PROFILES
[no value]
Mr. Bad News
Death, as it must to all men, comes to Alden Whitman every day. It's a living
[no value]
[no value]
Gay Talese
<p>"Winston Churchill gave you your heart attack,” the wife of the obituary writer said, but the obituary writer, a short and rather shy man wearing horn-rimmed glasses and smoking a pipe, shook his head and replied, very softly, “No, it was not Winston Churchill.”</p>
Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0084.xml
article
92
92
cartoon
[no value]
"This is your captain speaking."
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0085.xml
article
93
93
cartoon
[no value]
"If that's not a wig, you're fired!"
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0086.xml
article
94
94,95,96,97,128
WITH PALETTE AND PALATE
[no value]
Wild Roses and Irish Salmon
A naturalist's portrait of the Emerald Isle: unspoiled panoramas, well-stocked fishing holes and ghillies to show you around
[no value]
[no value]
Charles T. Coiner
<p>As we were being driven away from Shannon Airport on our first visit to Ireland in 1954, the cabby asked my wife and me if we had come to look up relatives. It struck us at the moment (it was three a.m.) that he was simply making polite but indifferent conversation.</p>
Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0087.xml
article
98
98,99
SETUP
[no value]
We’re Having Lunch Today with Marlon Brando, Folks
It’s like they always say— people don’t really communicate anymore
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
<p>To hawk Morituri, a well-meaning, fast-moving flick, they brought Marlon Brando east, and from miles around they came to stare and wonder. A movie star, one of the wildest, captured and, tamed! On one particular day they sat him down in New York’s Hampshire House and hour after hour fed him an endless stream of television interviewers.</p>
Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0088.xml
article
100
100,101,102,103
THE ARTIST IN HIS ELEMENT
[no value]
This Is Not Magritte
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
<p>Photographed above, and peering at you from other regions of the imagination, elsewhere on these pages, is René Magritte, the sixty-eight-year-old artist who has been putting reality on trial since he joined Surrealism in 1927. “I make a point (as far as possible),” Magritte says, “of painting only pictures that evoke the mystery of all existence with the precision and charm essential to the life of thought.</p>
Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0089.xml
article
104
104,128,129,130,131
ARTICLES
[no value]
Last of the Big Dandies
As the sun sinks over their Sulka dressing gowns, remember them: the elegant gentlemen of a time that was no time like the present and a topper was worn to the end
[no value]
[no value]
Lucius Beebe
In the realm of masculine attire and adornment, a very considerable latitude must be invoked in reporting both the cost and dimensions of men’s wardrobes and their accessories, if for no other reason than that aspirants for honors in the sartorial sweepstakes have always been, in large measure, well traveled and that the same article of clothing may run a considerable range of price, depending on where it is purchased.
Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0090.xml
article
105
105
WEARABLES
[no value]
Esquire Predicts:
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
the return of the wide tie. Last seen in the late Forties, the broad-model tie made a hasty exit with the advent of narrow shoulders and overall slim styling. Thinner ties (two inches wide, as opposed to the old three-and-a-half or wider) were more in keeping with the new lines:
Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0091.xml
article
106
106,107
WHITE-WATER CHARGERS
[no value]
Plans for the Perfect Powerboat
If your object is to go faster better, here's how For a discussion of why these new ideas work, consult the article overleaf
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0092.xml
article
108
108,109,120
WHITE-WATER CHARGERS
[no value]
THE FASTEST, SMOOTHEST BOAT YET
It already exists, it’s fifty percent more efficient than any other, and you can't buy it—so far
[no value]
[no value]
Joan Gould
Of course, we know what a boat is. A boat is a wooden vessel, shaped like a pea pod, that carries us through the water. And of course this conviction is wrong. This conviction is wrong, and almost all skippers and manufacturers are wrong, in their concept of a boat.
Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0093.xml
article
110
110
WEARABLES
[no value]
CAMPUS FASHION POLL: WINTER IN SOUTH
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
The two models on this page are wearing clothes that Michael Mains, University of Arizona ’65, tells us are popular all through the South. There is brisk traffic in lightweight conservative suits, with the dash of color being supplied by a brightly colored tie.
Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0094.xml
article
111
111
WEARABLES
[no value]
NORTH
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
Richard Gentry, Jr., University of Michigan, tells us that for north-country winters the rugged toggle coats are serviceable and popular. The same is true of chukka boots, which can be worn indoors and out with equanimity. For fraternity parties and other social events, plaid sport jackets are beginning to make the scene.
Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0095.xml
article
112
112
WEARABLES
[no value]
WEST
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
The dichotomy of student wardrobes at Berkeley is shown here. The young man standing wears a typical outfit for social functions, the other the casual attire deemed proper for classes. Scott Gregg, Jr., quoted above, tells us that one of the unique features on his campus is the colored sneaker.
Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0096.xml
article
113
113
WEARABLES
[no value]
EAST
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
The big thing on campus, according to John Lamb, Jr. of Princeton, is boots. Everybody seems to be wearing them with informal clothing. And in winter they are doubly appreciated because they remove the necessity for putting on rubbers or galoshes every time you go outside.
Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0097.xml
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115
115
[no value]
[no value]
VOLKSWAGEN OF AMERICA, INC.
[no value]
VOLKSWAGEN OF AMERICA, INC.
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0098.xml
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117
117
[no value]
[no value]
International Shoe Co.: LLAMA LIRA
[no value]
International Shoe Co.
LLAMA LIRA
[no value]
[no value]
Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0099.xml
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117
117
[no value]
[no value]
Norm Thompson
[no value]
Norm Thompson
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0100.xml
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119
119
[no value]
[no value]
Norfolk-Hill. Ltd.
[no value]
Norfolk-Hill. Ltd.
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0101.xml
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121
121
[no value]
[no value]
EXERCYCLE CORPORATION
[no value]
EXERCYCLE CORPORATION
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0102.xml
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122
122
[no value]
[no value]
Kodak: KODAK INSTAMATIC M6 Movie Camera
[no value]
Kodak
KODAK INSTAMATIC M6 Movie Camera
[no value]
[no value]
Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0103.xml
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123
123
[no value]
[no value]
LUNT-FONTANNE THEATRE
[no value]
LUNT-FONTANNE THEATRE
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0104.xml
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125
125
[no value]
[no value]
KLM Royal Dutch Airlines
[no value]
KLM Royal Dutch Airlines
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0105.xml
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127
127
[no value]
[no value]
Advertisements
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0106.xml
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129
129
[no value]
[no value]
CUESTA-REY
[no value]
CUESTA-REY
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0107.xml
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129
129
[no value]
[no value]
Relax-A-cizor
[no value]
Relax-A-cizor
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0108.xml
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130
130
[no value]
[no value]
Advertisements
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0109.xml
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131
131
[no value]
[no value]
HARIAN PUBLICATIONS
[no value]
HARIAN PUBLICATIONS
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0110.xml
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132
132
[no value]
[no value]
KLH Research and Development Corp.: KLH Model Twenty
[no value]
KLH Research and Development Corp.
KLH Model Twenty
[no value]
[no value]
Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0111.xml
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133
133
[no value]
[no value]
ARNOLD BERNHARD & CO., Inc.
[no value]
ARNOLD BERNHARD & CO., Inc.
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0112.xml
article
134
134,135,136,137
TALKING SHOP
[no value]
TALKING SHOP
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
VIRGINIA REILLY
[no value]
Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0113.xml
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134
134
[no value]
[no value]
Advertisements
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0114.xml
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135
135
[no value]
[no value]
Advertisements
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0115.xml
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136
136
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[no value]
Advertisements
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
[no value]
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Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0116.xml
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137
137
[no value]
[no value]
Advertisements
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[no value]
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Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0117.xml
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138
138
[no value]
[no value]
Advertisement: Esquire’s
[no value]
[no value]
Esquire’s
[no value]
[no value]
Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0118.xml
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138
138
[no value]
[no value]
Advertisement: ESQUIRE’s
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[no value]
ESQUIRE’s
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Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0119.xml
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138
138
[no value]
[no value]
Advertisement: ESQUIRE
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ESQUIRE
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Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0120.xml
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139
139
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General Motors Corporation
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General Motors Corporation
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Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0121.xml
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140
140
[no value]
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I.W. HARPER DISTILLING CO.: I.W. Harper
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I.W. HARPER DISTILLING CO.
I.W. Harper
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[no value]
Esquire_19660201_0065_002_0122.xml