Last Year about this time, Santa Fe, New Mexico's quiet image as the artsy-craftsy capital of the Southwest went up in flames. Inmates of the New Mexico State Penitentiary had flown into a two-day rampage leaving 33 prisoners dead. Roger Morris, former White House staffer and a New Mexico resident, started looking for the story behind the bedlam and untangled the web of forces that produced the most savage prison riot in U.S. history. His article, Thirty-Six Hours at Santa Fe, is a terrifying look at brutality and a shocking indictment of U. S. prisons. We've got more behind-the-scenes reporting in How to Buy Life Insurance and Get Out of It Alive (illustrated by James Higa,) by nationally syndicated columnist John Dorfman. It's probably the best life-insurance story since Double Indemnity, but that was fiction and this is fact and it may save you from the pitfalls of this particular policy decision. And if you need any more protection, talk with our March interviewee, James Garner, also known as Bret Maverick, Jim Rockford and everyone's favorite Polaroid pitchman (with an affectionate nod to Mariette Hartley). Garner's interviewer, Lawrence Linderman, who previously talked with Burt Reynolds and Sylvester Stallone for us, now ranks as an expert on Hollywood he-men. We know some women who would stroll through the LaBrea tar pits with their shoes off to get just five minutes alone with Linderman's address book.
Playboy, (ISSN 0032-1478), March, 1981, Volume 28, Number 3. Published Monthly by Playboy, Playboy Bldg., 919 N. Michigan Ave., Chicago, Ill. 60611. Subscriptions: In the United States and its possessions, $48 for 36 issues, $34 for 24 issues, $18 for 12 issues. Canada, $24 for 12 issues, Elsewhere, $31 for 12 issues. Allow 45 days for new subscriptions and renewals. Change of Address: Send both old and new addresses to Playboy, Post Office Box 2420, Boulder, Colorado 80302, and allow 45 days for change. Marketing: Ed Condon, Director/Direct Marketing; Michael J. Murphy. Circulation Promotion Director. Advertising: Henry W. Marks, Advertising Director; Harold Duchin, National Sales Manager: Michael Druckman, New York Sales Manager; Richard Atkins, Fashion Advertising Manager, 747 Third Avenue, New York, New York 10017; Chicago 60611, Russ Weller, Associate Advertising Manager, 919 North Michigan Avenue; Troy, Michigan 48084, Jess Ballew, Manager, 3001 W. Big Beaver Road; Los Angeles 90010, Stanley L. Perkins, Manager, 4311 Wilshire Boulevard; San Francisco 94104, Tom Jones, Manager, 417 Montgomery Street.
When the Anti-Defamation League of B'nai B'rith announced last September that it was giving its First Amendment Freedoms Award to Playboy Publisher Hugh Hefner, the news was apparently more than conservative pundit William F. Buckley, Jr., could bear. It was probably only a temporary snap, caused by the strain of his dauntless mission to convince people that God is a conservative. In a moment of apostolic apoplexy, Bill Buckley wrote a nationally syndicated column criticizing the A.D.L. and Hefner that appeared in the Los Angeles Herald Examiner under the cumbersome title "Sex Omnia Vincit: With Friends Like This Man, the First Amendment Doesn't Need Enemies."
Spectrum (Viking), a novel by David Wise, gives us plausible plotting, fascinating content and a frightening scenario--the possibility that the CIA has stolen uranium and made nuclear weapons for its own future use. The basic story makes a good read. Better yet, the details are accurate, from descriptions of covert operations run by the CIA to surveillance capabilities of the NSA, to a fine sense of how an American Embassy operates abroad (the London station, in this case) on a day-to-day basis. Wise puts his considerable stature as a journalist to good use. In case you're wondering, this is the same David Wise who wrote The American Police State and The Politics of Lying and who coauthored (with Thomas B. Ross) such best-selling nonfiction books as The Espionage Establishment, The Invisible Government and The U-2 Affair. Pretty good credentials for a spy novelist, and if you read Spectrum on top of those other titles, you may come to the conclusion that paranoia is a reasonable state of mind.
The first reel or so of Nine to Five (Fox) made me steel myself for an interim report on women's rights, an Emancipation Proclamation for the working girl. The movie has a message of sorts, but forget preachments and let's hear it for Jane Fonda, Lily Tomlin and Dolly Parton. Although they may have to share the top spot among film feminists with Goldie Hawn (as in Private Benjamin), Jane, Lily and Dolly are aces as a trio of office buddies, or sisters-in-arms, who all become rebel queens for a day once Nine to Five gets up some steam. Details of the plot were covered sufficiently in the December Playboy (on location, with reporter Larry Grobel). The screenplay by Colin Higgins (of Harold and Maude and Foul Play) and Patricia Resnick--with Higgins directing in a hit-or-miss manner--isn't quite as consistent as the collective star power unleashed to belt it across. With those three misses, however, the hits come easy. Jane is a partner in the production and a joy forever. More than atoning for her ill-conceived Moment by Moment with Travolta, Tomlin is hilarious, particularly when she camps through a Snow White fantasy about poisoning her boss, with lots of bluebirds and furry forest creatures dancing attendance on her. Dolly is delightful, and while I'm not sure that what she does is acting, she exudes the kind of naturally sunny spontaneity that other actresses work very hard to imitate. There's no male love interest as such, just Dabney Cole-man as a boss you love to hate--"a sexist, egotistical, lying, hypocritical bigot" whom the girls kidnap and hold hostage. Never scolding or self-righteous re male-chauvinist pigs, Nine to Five shrewdly makes its points stronger by turning the revenge of the working girl into the liveliest office party of the year. [rating]4 bunnies[/rating]
Merle Haggard: 1. The Best of Bob Wills and His Texas Playboys. 2. George Benson/Breezin'. 3. Hank Williams, Jr./Habits Old and New. 4. Willie Nelson/Willie Sings Kristofferson. 5. Linda Ronstadt/Heart Like a Wheel.
Here's Rodney: Among musicians, Rodney Crowell's reputation is already well established. More than 40 of his songs have been recorded by stars of various stripes, including Willie Nelson, Waylon Jennings and Emmylou Harris. If so far you've missed him, you owe it to yourself to check out But What Will the Neighbors Think (Warner Bros.), his second album. It's a treat of intelligent post-Nashville, post-Outlaw songwriting mostly-in a country vein, sung in a light, engaging voice darkened here and there by traces of melancholy. He appears to write great chug-along road songs as naturally as breathing, and his ballads grab through understatement, not saccharine overkill. The boy has flat got it. Also highly recommended is his first LP, Ain't Livin' Long Like This (Warner Bros.), which is probably even a few shades better than this new one. You'll be hearing more about Rodney Crowell.
Black Market Clash (Epic NuDisk) is a nine-tune sampler of hits old and new and previously unavailable here, from a group well on the way to claiming The Rolling Stones' crown as England's premier rock-'n'-roll band. Included is Bankrobber, the Clash's current big single in the U.K., which opens: "Daddy was a bank robber, he never hurt nobody/He just loved to live that way, and he loved to steal the money." Populist rock!
Newsbreaks: Buddy Holly's widow, Maria, has filed suit in an effort to gain custody of the recently located glasses of her late husband. The specs, a well-known Holly trademark, were misplaced by officials 22 years ago, when his plane crashed near Clear Lake, Iowa.... The auction at Abbey Road Studios of recording equipment and memorabilia brought in about $250,000. Our favorite item was a roll of toilet paper once rejected by the Beatles because of its inferior quality, which went for $200.... Producer Robert Stigwood is countersuing the Bee Gees and, not to be outdone, the Electric Light Orchestra is reportedly also suing its management to get out of a contract.... A nationally distributed video-music network has already begun airing some programs over independent TV stations and cable systems. The New York-based Pop Network purchased 53 hours a week for musicians such as the Pretenders, Michael Jackson, Marianne Faithfull and the Ramones.... Fans of the Coasters may have some trouble keeping up with the group, since there are about five different touring acts, all of which claim to be the original one. Apparently, anyone who ever performed with the Coasters is entitled to use its name.... You thought Chipmunk Punk was the end of it? No way. Jim Henson, the creator of The Muppets, has formed a record label to cash in on this trend. Disney, high on the success of Mickey Mouse disco, is planning an LP called Goin' Crackers, featuring Donald Duck on vocals.... Total sales for all the Doors albums have now passed the 16,000,000 mark.... More information on the music-business board game mentioned here last December: It's called The Record Game (what else?) and you can write to Gorilla, Inc., Box 288, Nashville, Tennessee 37221, for details.
There's powerful feeling as well as perfection of form in WNET's adaptation of Guests of the Nation, to be aired on Monday, February ninth, at eight P.M. (E.S.T.) as part of the Great Performances series on PBS outlets. Taken by Neil McKenzie from a Frank O'Connor story about Ireland in 1921, Guests was first produced off-Broadway, though its literary theatrical roots scarcely show. Under director John Desmond the actors--with Frank Converse and Estelle Parsons featured in a uniformly splendid company--take just under an hour to etch a memorable, lyric tragedy that may be the best you'll ever see on the subject of men at war who carry out orders they despise. Two Irish rebels stand guard over two English prisoners in a scoldy old widow's cottage, where the sworn foes' common humanity emerges as they do birdcalls or folk dances or bicker at cards. None can foresee the ultimate understated horror of which Converse, as rueful narrator, remarks, "Anything that happened after, I never felt the same about again." His sickened moral sensibility leaps right off the screen. Filmed on location in Connecticut, though you'd never guess it, Guests is plain, simple and devastating.
If you have but one night in the nation's capital, Germaine's (2400 Wisconsin Avenue, Washington, D.C.) is the place to dine. This Pan-Asian restaurant is the creation of a Vietnamese former paratroop nurse and newsgirl named Germaine Loc and her husband, former Time-Life war photographer Dick Swanson. From the ashes of a broken society (Germaine's family was nearly executed in the French debacle of 1954 and made it out of Saigon on the last refugee flight in 1975), the Swansons have crafted an eating-and-watering hole couched in natural woods, a skylighted ceiling and a jungle of greenery. It has become an instant hit with globetrotting journalists and politicians alike.
You're at your local shopping mall, minding your own business. Suddenly, live and in person, Lord Darth Vader and a squad of his Imperial storm troopers come stampeding out of the dark corridor between Sears and Kinney Shoes. It's not the real Darth Vader, of course, just some clown from the Star Wars publicity department dressed in the villain's armor. The point is that you can hardly live in America these days and avoid the Star Wars phenomenon.
Idol Gossip: Bob (Airplane) Hays will star with Brooke Adams in Utilities, the story of a social worker who challenges a major utility company, the old little-guy-bucking-the-system theme. Apparently, the script was originally considered for Robin Williams.... Fresh from Flash Gordon,Sam Jones has signed to do Kid Punk, an action crime thriller about a young police officer who is railroaded off the force and falls into the hands of an unscrupulous bunch who promote him as some kind of punkish hero. Although the producers claim it is not a karate film, there's a lot of karate in it, which is fine with Jones, who happens to be a blue belt.... At presstime, rumors were rampant that Hollywood may be in for another series of strikes. The Writers Guild of America contract expires in March and the Directors Guild contract follows suit in June. If demands involving pay-TV are not met, both unions may hit the picket lines, a situation that would virtually paralyze the industry again.... Sylvester Stallone will probably do a comedy after finishing Rocky III. Although he hasn't yet completed the screenplay, it will involve a starving actor who teams up with a shrink who wants to be a screenwriter.... Farrah Fawcett will play Joan Robinson Hill in Murder in Texas, a four-hour miniseries based on an actual Houston murder case. Apparently, one of the reasons Farrah chose the role was that Ash Robinson, a surviving principal in the murder case who's now 84 years old, said that Farrah was his ideal choice to play the part of his deceased daughter.
Titling this column "Is Jamaica Safe?" is not just a cynical way to catch your eye. It is an accurate report of the one question I'm asked--almost to the exclusion of all others--about what was once the Caribbean's most beguiling destination.
I am a reasonably attractive male, 20 years old. I recently went through what was for me a very emotional ordeal. About a year ago, I met a very attractive Oriental girl. We went out a couple of times. Eventually, we went to bed. I really enjoyed myself with her. After going with her for a while, I moved in with her. Everything was going great. I was really interested in marrying her. One day, while she was at work, I had the day off. I was bored. So I got snoopy and started to go through some old pictures of hers that she had stuffed into a box in the back of the closet. I ran across an envelope, on the cover of which was the name of a major reconstructive-surgery clinic. I opened it and found documents of name changes, Social Security-number changes, work records and birth certificates. What it came down to was: The girl I had fallen in love with had had a sex-change operation. It was a tremendous emotional blow to me. I didn't know what to do. I didn't let her know that I knew about it. Gradually, I enjoyed sex less and less with her. I left her, needless to say. Since then, I haven't been to bed with any girl. I almost find it hard to even talk with one. Is it wrong for me to think so badly of her? I just don't understand. I'm afraid it has left an emotional scar for life. Is there any way for me to get over this?--C. H., Denver, Colorado.
Consciousness of the rights of fathers has been raised recently, thanks to the movie Kramer vs. Kramer. But thanks to the New Jersey Juvenile and Domestic Relations Court in a case titled, cryptically enough, CM vs. CC, that has been carried to a much higher plane. According to the judge, this was a case of first impressions' presenting a unique factual situation with utterly no reported legal precedent. In other words, nobody had ever come up against a problem quite like this before.
It has been almost a quarter of a century since James Garner first captured America's fancy as television's Bret Maverick, the most charming scamp and champion of justice (in his own way) ever to saddle a horse and ride out into the sunset. In the years since then, Garner, 6'3" tall and ruggedly handsome, has retained his franchise as the only American actor who looks and moves like a classic leading man but who invariably imbues his roles with a touch of classic schlemiel. "The Rockford Files," Garner's most recent TV series, showcased its Emmy award--winning star as a pusillanimous private eye who flouted every mystery cliché extant. TV detectives front Richard Diamond to Barnaby Jones employed dishy (or at least personable) secretaries; Rockford used an answering machine. Instead of a suitably shabby office à la Harry-O or the swank digs favored by a Peter Gunn, Rockford lived in a tacky trailer. And while hawk-shows like Banacek, Mannix and Cannon were well paid for their exploits, Rockford was usually stiffed by his clients. It was a bright, funny show that grew more popular each year as the rest of TV prime time grew more devoted to cheap sitcoms and network freak shows such as "Real People" and "That's Incredible."
If The Question remains in anyone's mind as to whether or not a woman must sacrifice her femininity to be successful in business, we hope this pictorial answers it once and for all. Meet Jo Penney, president of Jo Penney Inc. Model & Talent Agency in Toronto. At 33, Jo is nearly an institution in the Canadian modeling business, though she founded Jo Penney Inc. only three years ago. She now manages 40 female models (30 adult and ten "juniors," aged 16 to 19), ten male models and 30 hard-working actors and actresses. Jo Penney models are regulars on the covers of Canadian women's magazines--the. counterparts of our Cosmopolitan and Mademoiselle. But to bring the beauty of Jo's models closer to home, remember Sylvie Garant, our November 1979 Playmate from Quebec? Ahhhh, yes. We discovered her through Jo Penney. And, in the process, we discovered Jo herself. Although she's a former model, she hadn't been in front of the camera since 1975. Bu even as we discussed business with her (and she can be all business, if you know what we mean), we couldn't help wondering if she'd consider posing for Playboy herself. Finally, we popped the question. "I thought you'd never ask," she replied. It's nice to get a Penney for your thoughts. (We couldn't resist.)
To the inmates, the pen was like a small-town virgin. Once they took it, it belonged to them, the ordinary prisoners as well as the real cons. No matter then who became its master, they knew that they could always have it back.
It was not much more than 125 years ago that an inspired Scottish distiller hit on the idea of tempering his robust, straight malt whisky, the original uisgebaugh, with a measure of tamer grain whisky. His unabashed aim was to broaden the appeal of the native brew--and to say he succeeded is a consummate understatement. The marriage of traditional pot-still malt with grain whisky, elaborated in modern column stills, gave birth to a novel whisky type, blended Scotch.
Let's face it. Good sex, if you can find it, is hard work. Come to think of it, so is bad sex. Whether one wields cumbersome sexual aids or merely makes do with lightweight private parts, the sex act remains manual labor. Recall the strenuous frenzy of foreplay--the desperate scrambling in the dark in search of those tiny erogenous zones, the tiresome stream of vocal endearments, the monotonous moaning and groaning, the heated huffing and puffing, spitting and sucking (and for sadists, kicking and shoving)--that results in exhausted humping and lunging and banging, not to mention continuous kissing (while out of breath) and abnormal exertions of the tongue (does anyone honestly believe that this repulsive-looking appendage was meant to work overtime outside one's mouth?). Not only is coitus collaborative drudgery but it is a distinctly anti-intellectual pursuit as well. This yielding to crude animal instincts, rather than, say, reading Camus or taking in a museum, is shameful, especially in a country blessed with so many cerebral distractions.
Holding Hands at midnight 'neath a starry sky is nice work if you can get it--and one of the ways to get it is to slip or buckle something onto your wrist that shows you're a cut above the rest of the crowd. A simple bracelet says more about your taste than a whole wallet full of C notes; and the same goes for a good-looking unusual watch. Get some wrist action in your life, gentlemen, and you'll be coming to grips with the other type soon.
If You Ever strolled with your lover along Butterfly Beach in Santa Barbara around sunset, chances are you were treated to a one-woman concert by Kymberly Ellen Herrin. "I used to ride my bike down there when I was a student at Santa Barbara City College and park beside a fiberglass tunnel. I'd sit there, where I could watch the sun set on the Pacific, and aim my flute down the tunnel. People walked by, different couples, and I'd play music to fit them. If it was an older man and woman, maybe in their 50s, I'd play something like Moon River. When a young couple passed, or maybe a girl walking alone, I'd play something contemporary like The Girl from Ipanema. I like to be alone with my flute. People who play music are never really alone." Kymberly also plays guitar, harmonica, piano and a dab of sax. She surfs like a water sprite. She's a licensed real-estate agent. She lives in a rented house near the ocean where she shares the space with a family of rabbits ("The seven new babies are so cute. They look like little Volkswagens"), a collection of rare birds and a parrot named Paco who dive-bombs her in the kitchen, lands on the counter and says, "C'mere, baby." Kymberly's shy. "I feel even shier if I really like a person. If it's a man, I get very nervous. It's hard to look him in the eyes. I always lose the staring contest, because I think he'll see the lust in my heart." You might say she's unusually shy for such a beautiful and talented woman, but then, she's a late bloomer. She's spent more of her life being awkward, tall and skinny rather than graceful, leggy and, uh, just right. "It all happened during one summer when I was in high school. My mother was away for two months, flying her airplane in various races like the Powder Puff Derby, and in that two months, I gained 20 pounds in the right places. The day she came home, I was sitting on our front porch, and she got out of her car, came over and said, 'Kym?' She barely recognized me. When I was a scrawny little nothing, I could stay out past 11. Suddenly I had a ten-o'clock curfew." Kym's mother has been the primary influence in her life. Her parents divorced when she was in grade school and her mother, a successful real-estate marketing developer, raised Kym, her older brother and two older sisters. Kym admits that she very nearly idolizes her mother, and it's easy to see why: "My mother is dark-haired and very beautiful. She's half Filipino--my father was Swedish-French--which gives her beautiful skin and eyes. Aside from running her own business and raising her children, she plays piano, she's a great cook, she flies and races airplanes and owns her own. Right now, she's building herself a new house. You might say that she's my inspiration. Everything she does, she does well." Obviously, Kym is her mother's daughter. Aside from her culinary skills, her musical versatility and her unquestionable physical beauty, she's also goal-oriented. The first thing she intends to do with the check she'll receive as our March Playmate is "invest in some property with my mom." Kym also plans to build her own house one day. "I've already designed it in my head a million times," she laughs.
My last boss told me during the job interview that he was interested in a combination of input and output," the girl told the employment counselor, "but I soon learned that what the combination involved was his putting it in while I put out!"
He comes into your home with a hearty handshake, looking you right in the eye. Immediately, he gives you the road atlas his company's ad promised. He admires your place, tells a joke and laughs at one of yours. He shows you that he's an all-right guy.
The Classic Bogart Trench Coat may still be the most popular style of raingear for walking in the wet, but this season is seeing a deluge of slick fashion choices. All the designs, of course, have one objective--to keep the wearer dry--but the idea that this might be accomplished more interestingly seems to have occurred to a number of people. Hence the proliferation of bright colors, shiny fabrics, jump suits, rain suits (even one done with short pants that may not keep your legs dry but is sure to get them noticed) and reversibles. A major influence comes quite naturally from sailing/fishing clothes, which have traditionally combined protection and a lively use of color. If this spiffier attitude to rainwear still seems a bit alien to you, consider the many ways that males are successfully mixing different looks. Cowboy elements (hats, boots, etc.) are being combined with urban businesswear. Down-filled ski jackets are being donned over suits. And active sportswear that would look right at home on a tennis court, jogging track or rugby field is now being worn practically anywhere; casualwear is acceptable just for the fun of it. It seems to us that the same kind of experimenting and imagination make equally good sense in every area of apparel. Don't think for a second that your basic black/brown/tan raincoat is obsolete. But for variety and something of an uplift when there's a downpour, it's a kick to have a few catchy looks to put on, whether you're walking the dog or dashing out for a six-pack. While you're rethinking your wet-weather wardrobe, give some consideration to picking up a bold-color brolly, too.
At Birth, Piper Perry weighed three pounds and Tara Perry weighed two pounds. When you're that little, a pound can make quite a difference in your appearance. Piper didn't look too bad, but Tara looked fairly wretched. For a while, the hospital had various tubes hooked up to her, and they had to shave off what little hair she had. Piper got to keep her hair. So it was that when the twins first went home and family friends dropped by to see them, their mother would bring Piper out of the bedroom, show her around proudly, take her back into the bedroom, then bring her out again and announce, "And here's Tara." And she got away with it. That's a "twins" story, the kind of true tale that can be told only by a person whose body comes in duplicate. Piper and Tara are one of four sets of beautiful twins we photographed and interviewed for (text concluded on page 174) My Sister, My Self (continued from page 146) this pictorial. We are not at all surprised at the impact of these double images. Twins have always held a special fascination for mankind. In some primitive societies, they are venerated; in others, slain. And for almost a century, they have been the primary test subjects for scientists seeking to solve the controversial question: Which has more influence on the forming of personality--heredity or environment? (Otherwise known in scientific circles as the nature-versus-nurture dispute.) Probably the most fascinating research involving twins is now being conducted at the University of Minnesota by a team headed by psychologist Thomas Bouchard. So far, Bouchard has assembled exhaustive physical, psychological and biographical inventories of 15 sets of twins who were raised apart and, in many cases, had never met before their first visit to Bouchard's laboratory. It will take five years or more for Bouchard's research team (which includes six psychologists, two psychiatrists and nine other medical consultants) to analyze completely all the data they've collected so far; but already they've found remarkable similarities between the twins who've entered the program. One of several equally amazing examples is the case of Bridget and Dorothy, 39-year-old twins who met for the first time when they joined the study. At their first meeting, each wore seven rings, two bracelets on one wrist and a watch and a bracelet on the other. Each has a son, one named Richard Andrew and the other Andrew Richard. Each has a daughter, one named Catherine Louise, the other Karen Louise. Another pair, both named Jim, named their sons James Allan and James Alan. Both work part time as deputy sheriffs, own Chevys and have dogs named Toy. And both married and divorced women named Linda, then married women named Betty.
Anyone Blundering into a certain billiard room in Hamburg, Germany, in the year 1800 might have heard the owner of the joint make an apparently preposterous claim. He said he could pocket a ball by jumping it from one table to another. Betting against him, of course, was folly, for he had mastered one of the first recorded trick shots. Yet you can be sure that someone always took him up on his proposition, if only to see him do it. Because then, as now, people just love to watch a gifted pool player perform the apparently impossible.
All Hail the return of the sexy, leggy cigarette girl! Mauled and pinched in the Forties and Fifties (the heyday of the rowdy conventioneer), she faded into obscurity when faced with the fashionable taboos of the antismoking era. The recent resurgence of the mesh-stockinged cigarette girl can in part be attributed to the marijuana kick. Although they all peddle brand-name smokes, some girls have become more enterprising. Recently, we've heard of shapely young tobacco vendors' being dismissed from fashionable discos for having the controversial herb tucked away in secret compartments of their trays. Purely to accommodate, of course.
David Rensin met with actress and instantly identifiable Revlon model Lauren Hutton over lunch in Los Angeles. His report: "I know there are men who cut out all the ads that Lauren Hutton has appeared in. I play baseball with those guys, and they would give up a .500 batting average just to spend two hours with her. Lauren is, of course, beautiful. And intelligent, intriguing, ingenuous and inspiring. She also knows how to have a good time. In fact, eating lunch with Lauren Hutton is even better than sitting in a pile of Ultima II ads all day long. She can call me any time."
Today, we find our Heroes on a Military Fueling Station in the Bargo Star System, where they have Stopped to ... to Refuel, of Course! What else would they be doing There?Fill 'er up?Yeah!Excuse me, sirs! Captain Grixby Wishes to see you Immediately!
These Days, it isn't easy for a man to know exactly when he's made it in the business world. A name on the door and a Bigelow on the floor are out. Expense and travel perks, a company car and a gorgeous secretary aren't the success indicators they once were. So how do you know when you're really important? When your work load justifies your company's installing in your office suite (or home) the brand-new $100,000 Teleportation Unit, an incredible all-purpose computerized media room. What does it do? Well, it dissolves the already thinning line between American work and play. Installed in your office, it could make it easy for you to forget to go home. (That's what your company would be banking on, no doubt.) Installed in your home, it could save you gas money, obviating the need for your physical presence at the office. It would also enable you to negotiate heavy deals in your pajamas, which we all know is the ultimate perk. The Teleportation Unit was designed by architects Doug Michels and Richard Jost, from New York and Houston, respectively. The result looks like a cross between a space module and a small, plush theater. So plush, in fact, that in addition to being a great place to do business, it's a great place for seduction. It seduced us, at any rate. We want one.
Your next new car--should you buy it or lease it? For a growing number of drivers, the answer is lease. Corporations are the most frequent leasers, but leasing by private drivers has jumped 179 percent in the past decade, making it the industry's fastest growing segment. Basically, a lease is a long-term car rental (usually one to three years) and it can--for some drivers--offer dollar savings. Auto dealers, some banks and independent companies such as Hertz, Avis and National all handle leases. Shop around, because deals vary.
Most people think it makes good sense to dicker with a car dealer to save a few hundred dollars on the purchase of a new car. Yet some of the same people pay no attention to differences in the price of life-insurance policies--differences that can add up to thousands of dollars over the years.
None of the Words in this erotic vocabulary test has been banned in Boston--probably because the censors don't know what they mean. We admit there are some bizarre and unlikely words here, but give it a try and you might surprise yourself with what you didn't know you knew about sexy language. Match each of the words below with the visual clue to its definition that follows. You may discover you're a silver-tongued devil who knows how to make coprolalia pay off. No time limit and no dictionary. Answers and scores appear on page 242.
We all know the old Kipling dictum about a cigar's being a smoke, but your favorite puff is going to last only so long unless you store it in such a way that the tobacco leaves don't dry out. And just as bourbon tastes better when poured from a Baccarat decanter, so a cigar that's been plucked from a polished-wood or precious-metal humidor psychologically smokes superior to one that's been stashed in an old tin box. Aside from looking like it was crafted for an English men's club, a great cigar humidor should also be airtight and, ideally, lockable--the price of cigars being what they are today. Add a moisturizing device and you've got a permanent home for your most cherished cheroots. Now you're smoking!
Call them jump suits, coveralls or flight suits, the look is already well established among the young at heart and--like our levitating fellow below--is continuing to rise. One of the reasons people are jumping for jump suits is their versatility: They can be functional (worn as skiwear or as a beach cover-up), replace a lounging robe when you're watching TV or go on the town to a casual party or a disco. Furthermore, jump suits come in a multitude of colors and fabrics (we even show one designed as a rain suit in our City Slickers fashion feature in this issue) ranging from the thinnest white parachute material to heavy-duty jungle camouflage cloth. And because jump suits can be worn so many different ways, we predict that the look will be more than just a passing fad. Perhaps it's a preview of tomorrow, when everyone will jump into his clothes and zip up. That idea may be more than just an illusion.
Next to chug a lug contests and chatting up the girl on the next stool, playing darts is probably a pub crawler's most popular pastime. Years ago, dartists would fling their missiles at the butt end of a wine cask. Today, the target is a bristle board housed in a cabinet with places for scoring, plus dart-storage racks. And here's another point--a serious darter carries his own set of arrows, often custom weighted and available in a variety of metals from brass to tungsten alloy. Shooters also have their own special language: To see who goes first, you and your fellow darters "diddle for the middle." Fire when ready, Didley!
"The Further Adventures of Rita Jenrette"--In this revealing Self-Portrait, the wife of the Abscamconvicted Ex-Congressman Tells why she's got to Pursue her own Course now--and why that includes a singing career and an appearance in Playboy. As for the Photos, did she or didn't she? find out next month