<p>CONGRATULATIONS to Esquire for tackling the question of love between the sexes in “Do Women Love Men?” (June). I also commend the group of semifamous, egotistical, loudmouthed, manipulative, and somewhat narrow-minded women who sat through the male-bashing dinner party and demonstrated just how little women know about the fragile male ego.</p>
<p>FROM THE MOMENT he saluted his father’s coffin in 1963, John Fitzgerald Kennedy Jr. has been guarded by what senior writer Michael Gross calls the “cordon Kennedy.” Relatives, friends, even the strangers he Rollerblades past on the streets of New York, all want to protect America’s putative crown prince.</p>
SURE, she can carry a tune, but can Barbra Streisand edit? The singer-director-unofficial-Clinton-adviser may get the chance to find out: A source says she is interested in buying The New Republic. Although the magazine is not officially for sale, editor in chief and owner Martin Peretz occasionally gets fed up with the headaches brought on by the weekly, which has recently endured several controversies, including the Bell Curve debate, Michael Lewis’s ode to his wife’s butt, and associate editor Ruth Shalit’s being accused of plagiarism in two of her New Republic pieces.
HE WASN’T afraid of Saddam Hussein, but Colin Powell gets downright weak-kneed when it comes to his wife, Alma. Powell decided months ago to run for president on the Republican ticket, says a Washington insider, but Alma did not want her husband to run.
IT’S NOT Courtney Love’s fault that she’s a druggie—it's her therapist’s. The grungy dowager has told friends that she is suing a former psychiatrist for getting her hooked on prescription drugs. Love’s spokeswoman says she knows nothing of the story.
BEING the richest human on the planet just isn’t enough to make some guys happy. Microsoft chairman Bill Gates was so upset by Time magazine’s recent profile of him that he called to interface with Time editor in chief Norman Pearlstine. Gates came across as hot-tempered in a short Q&A segment the magazine ran from a lengthy interview.
WHAT KIND of guy not only admits to having read The Bridges of Madison County but lists it as one of the most influential books he’s ever read? According to Books That Shaped Successful People (Fairview Press), edited by Kevin H. Kelly, singer Clint Black is man enough to name the Robert James Waller classic.
IT'S A good thing actor Ron Silver didn’t negotiate for the United States during the cold war. Silver, who has been cast as Henry Kissinger in an upcoming TNT film based on Walter Issacson’s 1992 biography, wanted to meet with the former secretary of state to study his character.
THAT saxophone playing is finally paying off for Bill Clinton. The president, who is trying to raise $1 million for his Whitewater-defense bills, has received a few $1,000 contributions from such notables as Garrison Keillor and Sean Penn.
<p>SMASHING guitars onstage was once a sign of rock 'n' roll’s insurgency; saving them signals its institutionalization. That’s why a museum full of guitars and costumes and personal effects is a dangerous proposition. Which may be why the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and Museum has had such a difficult gestation: It risks mummifying a living and rebellious art—and making a lot of us feel old.</p>
<p>IT ISN’T PRETTY to think that the lines separating madman and liberator, murderer and martyr, are so liquid that they ebb and flow with the currents of history—but, of course, they do. Historical reputation is all in the timing. The bombing in Oklahoma City was greeted with horror, but in other times and places, such acts have served as the first step toward becoming prime minister.</p>
<p>THE SMALL art movie is not a friend to the average Joe. It wouldn’t be too much to say that the bohemian intelligentsia and the cultural elite who, in the main, make these movies are not drawn to stories about young, straight, middle-class white men.</p>
<p>“IF I COULD be half what he is,” David Letterman once told Bill Zehme, with all the sincerity he could muster, “I wouldn’t have a care in the world.” He was speaking of Regis Philbin, the man behind these remarkable feet. For a year, our man Zehme has faithfully sat at these feet, like a rapt Boswell.</p>
<p>YOU CAN look it up. In 1934, Esquire published the first article about jazz in a mainstream American magazine. Guided by the jazz enthusiasms of founding editor Arnold Gingrich, Esquire in the 1940s conducted all-star jazz polls, then produced the concerts and the records to give the artists voice.</p>
<p>A CENTURY AGO, Stephen Crane wrote about Americans’ “profound affection” for San Antonio, which seemed to symbolize “the poetry of life in Texas”—a poetry that’s still palpable in the echoing ruins of the Alamo, the mazy course of the Paseo del Rio, the Mayan-inspired art-deco architecture, and the pastelcolored cantinas and tacquerías that dot the town.</p>
<p>IN EUROPE, bohemianism is fast acquiring an Irish brogue. The hometown of Beckett, Behan, and Bono is swelling with cultural pride. Young Dubliners, with a rekindled interest in all things Irish, are the style setters, and their home turf is the neighborhood known as Temple Bar.</p>
In the race to capture the hearts and minds of Republicans, Pat Buchanan has all the right moves
<p>NEW HAMPSHIRE IS the American version of Brigadoon, a semimythical place that springs into existence every four years for the sole purpose of holding a presidential primary. On a dazzling Fourth of July morning, the self-consciously quaint town of Amherst, New Hampshire, was transformed into a rock-ribbed Republican theme park with virtually every tree proclaiming its political allegiance with a Dole, Gramm, or Buchanan poster.</p>
With few words and many strikeouts, Japanese pitcher Hideo Nomo has turned America into the land of the sinking fastball
BASEBALL CAME TO a stop again at the Ballpark in Arlington, Texas, but this time the world cheered, because for this moment, the game was in Hideo Nomo’s right hand. Baseball ceased at the top of Nomo’s windup in the bottom of the first inning of the All-Star game, when he thrust his right hand and his glove hand straight up in the air as if in prayer.
If you’ve been sitting out the current bull market, here’s how you can climb back into the ring
<p>IF YOU’RE AN INVESTOR, chances are you’re feeling slightly terrific this year, what with the stock market having rocketed so high that you can’t see it even with the Hubble space telescope. Of course, if you’re one of those folks who’ve been standing on the sidelines, grousing, “Nah, it’ll never last,” you’re probably experiencing a little altitude sickness by now.</p>
On the run from the press all his life, John F. Kennedy Jr. joins the media pack
IT IS AN OVERCAST, chilly Friday, but the crowd in the ballroom of Detroit’s Westin Hotel is feverish. In the Adcraft Club’s ninety-year history, only Lee Iacocca has drawn more people to a speech. But today’s guest has set pulses revving faster than even Iacocca ever could.
IN FULL GEAR, THE SOLDIERS WADED INTO A DARK SWAMP, THE WATER HIGH AND RISING, THE NIGHT APPROACHING. THEY WERE ALL DYING TO BE U. S. ARMY RANGERS, BUT BY THE NEXT DAY, SOME OF THEM WOULD JUST BE DEAD.
<p>The Yellow River begins in southern Alabama, near a country crossroads called Rose Hill, and flows into the Florida panhandle, that westering arm of the Sunshine State where Bible Belt hymns crowd the radio bands and the Latin ballads of Miami stations, if you pick them up at all, seem like music from another world. </p>
<p>"YOU'VE AGREED TO baby-sit how many nieces?" asked our friend Manon. The supermodel, fondly remembered from the Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue, found "six, all between three and nine," to be a shock-provoking response. "What will you do with them?" she asked.</p>
Dr. Melvyn Rosenstein believes that in America every man should have the penis of his choice. A true tale of Southern California’s fat shooters and phallic cults and the ultimate act of self-invention.
SHORTLY AFTER eight one morning this past April, Dr. Melvyn Rosenstein, who likes to describe himself as the world’s foremost practitioner of penis enlargement, motioned me into his operating room. His first patient of the day lay faceup on a stretcher, flanked by a young nurse and a bearded anesthesiologist.
Hollywood may seem like a business, but it's really a soup kitchen to the stars
Even in the midst of a record-breaking summer at the box office, you can feel the gloom in their offices and hear it in their voices. “There is a crumbling of the underpinning foundations of Hollywood right now,” one executive said in a variation on what has become a litany around the town.
<p>THEY SAY BILL PARCELLS runs his New England Patriots like an emperor. And why not? Emperor Bill? He’d complement a toga. You can see him moving with a plot in his head through the shadowed inclines of that bare, mined dump up in Foxboro. And he certainly has enough rings to kiss—two from Super Bowls with the Giants in 1987 and 1991.</p>
Who cares if you’re old enough to know better? You’re going home with her anyway.
<p>Fact: Over three million men in England have slept with ten or more women. And do they all look like Richard Gere? Are they all as rich as Croesus, as charming as Clark Gable, as preposterously endowed as Errol Flynn, as witty as Oscar Wilde? Nope.</p>
Fall Fashion ’95: Focus on outerwear, from city streets to ski slopes
<p>NOT SO LONG AGO, casual outerwear for men consisted of leather jackets, mackinaws, heavy sweaters, and your dad's old fur-collared coat. But with the emergence of technical clothing for skiing and mountaineering, as well as the ever-increasing informality of contemporary life, outerwear has taken the spotlight in men's fashion.</p>
The new midlength coats, here on actor Peter Berg, recall the classic car coats of an earlier era
OBSERVED OVER TIME, men's coat lengths go up and down with the same inevitability as women’s skirts, although the cycles are longer. After several years of almost maxi-lengths, men’s wear is returning to a late-fifties, early-sixties look, falling to the knee or just above.
<p>SOMEONE HAD PAINTED a warning skull on the rock at the turnoff for Broken Arrow Road, beneath the metal sign with its cicatrix of welded letters. It was a western Mojave road as hard as the iron sign—just the place to test the new Korean-made Kia Sportage sports-utility vehicle.</p>
<p>BLAME STEVEN SPIELBERG. He could have saved Michael Jackson. One of the three Jews (Jeffrey Katzenberg and Michael Milken are the others) described by MJ as his “best friends,” Spielberg could have made Peter Pan with Michael in the Mary Martin role, as he talked of doing back in the early 1980s, before things got terminally strange.</p>
Urban Armor, p. 165: Gerani jacket ($615) at Barneys New York, New York; Wilkes Bashford, San Francisco. Iceberg turtleneck ($225) at Iceberg boutique, Beverly Hills; Syd Jerome, Chicago. Pants ($135) at Metropolis Man, Bal Harbour, FL; Oliver, Beverly Hills.
<p>AS DEEP-PURPLE DAWN slid over the palm fronds, I was the last one into the Raleigh Hotel. A 5:00 A.M. entrance two nights running earned me a certain respect from the night manager. The final pulses of the Glam Slam’s music were still a phantom sensation.</p>