This Issue Of Playboy reminds us of a line from a country-and-western song: ''I've got a great future behind me.'' Certainly, that line applies to two of our contributors, Anson Mount and Arthur C. Clarke. Mount, who has been doing Playboy's Pigskin Preview for 25 years, is a prognosticator nonpareil, having won the Shelter Insurance Award--given for best pre-season predictions--more times than any other journalist, sportscaster or Vegas bookie. Explains Mount: ''I always pick the best, not the most popular, players for Playboy's All-America Team. I recall once nominating a defensive tackle from an obscure Southwestern school and dropping a returning All-America. I got a ton of hate mail--and a letter from the kid I had picked. It read, 'Dear Mr. Mount, I can't believe you really picked me. I'm not All-America caliber. Are you sure you don't have me mistaken for some other Joe Greene?''' Clarke has at least 12 futures behind him, and they all fit. We've been presenting his work as often as possible since 1958 and thought we knew him pretty well; but somehow, we'd lost track of the fact that it was he, back in 1945, who had thought up the communications satellite. For that achievement, Clarke was awarded the Marconi Fellowship for Communications Science and Technology in The Hague last June. Not surprisingly, he still loves new toys. When Playboy asked to look at the manuscript of his new novel, 2010: Odyssey Two, we received a five-inch disk. It seems that Clarke is now doing all his work on his pet word processor, Archie (Archives III, five megabytes, Winchester disk, Wordstar program). We are proud to present this excerpt (illustrated by Don Ivan Punchatz) from his novel--to be published later this fall by Del Rey Books. We'll have more of 2010 in our December issue.
Hugh Hefner's birthday parties are big events at Mansion West; each one has its own theme. In the past, Hef's party crew has presented a mock Academy Awards show, a risqué Gong Show send-up and an Olympics spoof. This year's theme, ''April in Paris,'' sounds tame but, as presented for Hef, helps us understand why they write songs about Paris. Check out the dancers below, performing in the tradition of the Folies-Bergère.
Playboy, (ISSN 0032-1478), September, 1982, Volume 29, Number 9, 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. $27 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: Milt Kaplan. Fashion Advertising Manager, 747 Third Avenue. New York. New York 10017: Chicago 60611, Russ Weller, Associate Advertising Manager, 919 North Michigan Avenue: Troy, Michigan 48064. 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.
Sex weighs heavily on the fundamentalist mind, as we know from the increasing number of sex and marriage handbooks coming off the evangelical presses. The following material was sent to us by an anonymous typesetler at the Armageddon Publishing Company whose job was to set the answers section of the sex manual ''God's Gonna Getcha!'' We can only infer the questions.
That's Entertainment: Today's successful honey-dripping sexpot struggles through a crazy quit of career weaves and jogs. She fixes the face, sculpts the body and then calls in Bob Mackie to do the drapes. She must learn to re-create, convincingly, those euphoric sounds that often, characterize the sex act, and then she must find a songwriter with a knack for innuendo. But if she's good, she's a prima diva, the newest graduate of the Chiquita Banana school. You know, a sexual cartoon. And luckily for her, the Vietnam war has ended: she won't have to go there with Bob Hope.
This section goes one step beyond the rave review. We'll stake our reputation and your $7.98 on the entries that make it to our Hot list. As for our Not selections: Don't these people know there's a vinyl shortage?
Reeling and Rocking: Levon Helm has joined the cast of The Right Stuff. . . . Marty Davidson, the director of The Lords of Flatbush, which launched the careers of Sylvester Stallone and Henry Winkler, among others, is about to begin work on Eddie and the Cruisers, a movie about a 1959 rock group. . . . It looks as if Cher will make her TV-movie debut with Meryl Streep in The Karen Silkwood Story.
From Star Trek II to The Thing, it has been a spectacular summer of special effects and supernaturalism; but I'll give odds that Steven Spielberg's through-the-roof hits E.T. The Extra-Terrestrial (Universal) and Poltergeist (MGM) will, come judgment day, dwarf the competition. Spielberg directed E.T. but merely conceived, co-authored and co-produced Poltergeist, though his creative input and his master's touch pump adrenaline into both movies--revitalizing familiar formulas with innocence, exuberance and the uncommon skill audiences expect of the man who had made Jaws and Raiders of the Lost Ark.
Idol Gossip: As far as Hollywood is concerned, Gene Wilder and Gilda Radner are the best romantic-comedy team to come along since Tracy and Hepburn. Initial reactions to Hanky Panky were so positive that studio execs all over town are scrambling to reteam the pair; the Ladd Company will get them together again in a comedy, Kissing; and Columbia plans to reunite them in a project called Woodrow Wilson Dime. No plot details are available at presstime, but I'll keep you posted. . . . Franc (Quadrophenia) Roddom will direct the film version of Pat Conroy's best seller The Lords of Discipline. The $10,000,000 Paramount production concerns the trials and tribulations of a young cadet at a West Point-like military institution. . . . National Public Radio will commence broadcasting The Empire Strikes Back radio series on Saint Valentine's Day 1983. Stars will include Mark Hamill, Billy Dee Williams, Anthony Daniels, Perry King and Brock Peters. . . . No sooner had Porky's proved itself a winner at the box office than the producers of the low-budget comedy were yelling, ''Sequel! Sequel!'' Porky's: The Next Day, already in production, is scheduled for a summer 1983 release.
For years, Playboy has been telling its readers that penis size doesn't matter. I'm willing to buy that, except for one thing. You never publish statistics to go along with your advice. What is the average size?--F. C., Detroit, Michigan.
After publishing Dear Playmates for almost a year, we know one thing for sure: Not everyone finds the same things sexy. What may be a big turn-on to one person can end up a big yawn to another. So we thought we'd ask the Playmates for their individual definitions of sexy.
Attorney L. Michael Yoder of Valparaiso, Indiana, has noted our occasional reporting of strange court cases and thinks we would be remiss if we didn't pass along to our readers this most eloquent of legal arguments and most apocryphal of legal legends ever to make the rounds:
During The Late Sixties and early Seventies, when Playboy was examining the future of American life with what turned out to be grim accuracy, there was an orphaned assignment, Why Things Don't Work. No one ever did very much about it, because the subject was too overwhelming. A magazine article? It required an encyclopedia. Since then, the number of things that have not worked would tax the guilt reserves of an Old Testament prophet. A single minor aspect of the catastrophe inspired a major best seller, Murphy's Law and Other Reasons Why Things Go Wrong. After the recall of defective pacemakers (some of which had already been installed in people's chests), it would have come as more of a relief than a surprise had the entire planet been recalled.
Fran Jeffries, singer/dancer/actress, was pumped up. She was in Los Angeles, preparing for her opening at Marty's, a New York jazz club. Fran had worked out that morning, as she does every morning, and you could have lit a city block with her energy. This day, however, was special. It was her birthday, but not just any birthday. As Fran put it, it was ''the big four-five.''
The Griefs are leaking. Everyone is watching the telethon and the griefs are leaking. Everyone is giving to the telethon and sympathy is pouring. There is lump in the throat like heavy hail. Everyone is watching and giving to the telethon and the griefs are big business. The Helbros tote board can barely keep up. The griefs are pandemic. There is a perspiration of griefs, tears like a sad grease. He watches the telethon from his bed and is catching the griefs, coming down with the griefs, contaged, indisposed with sentiment.
Although it's true that clothes make the man, the accessories in your life--from the type of shaving brush you lather up with in the morning to your taste in cuff links and key rings--also define your style. So this month, we're introducing a new Playboy feature: Personal Best, a page that will showcase exceptional accouterments that we think you'll want to add to the landscape of your desktop, dresser, bar or bath or even to slip into your pocket. Tom Wolfe's phrase ''the right stuff'' has found a new home right here. Clockwise from 11: A man's dressing-table mirror on an adjustable brass-and-chrome stand, with a magnified image on the flip side, by Karl Springer Ltd., $945. Next to it: A hand-wrought sterling-silver nautical cup, with a heavy-silver-rope motif, that's ideal as a cigarette holder, from Cartier, New York, $350. Continuing clockwise: This lapis-lazuli-and-18-kt.-gold-plated shaving set that's made in Paris by Bernard Richards includes a hexagonal-handled toothbrush and a razor, plus a shaving stand with a removable gold-plated lather bowl and a badger-bristled shaving brush, from Perspective Ltd., New York, $2124. Beside the shaving set is a handsome antique-silver inkwell, from Neiman-Marcus, $270. Next to it: A sterling-silver pen with a felt tip, from Bulgari, New York, $275. Those two leather cases near the corner are made in Italy of full-quill ostrichskin; the one with the gold corners is designed for business cards, $225, and the other one is a billfold, $295, both from Mark Cross Inc. Bottom right: A pocket magnifying glass that's housed in a sterling-silver shell-shaped case, from Tiffany, New York, $95. For your smokes, a sterling-silver cigarette case inlaid with 14-kt. gold, from Fortunoff, New York, $350. The cuff-link set next to it is 14-kt. gold with cabochon sapphires, from Tiffany, New York, $660. Above the cuff links: A 14-kt.-gold key ring with a tag that can be monogrammed with your initials, from Fortunoff, New York, $415. A silver-plated double-horsehead corkscrew with sheath, from Hermès, Chicago, $230; and a pewter hairbrush that's handmade in England, from Paul Stuart, New York, about $45. Atop the hairbrush: A Swiss-made ultra-thin pocket watch created from two American ten-dollar gold pieces, by Patek Philippe, $7900.
The appearance of people was ... well, they all had skin blackened by burns.... They had no hair, because their hair was burned, and at a glance, you couldn't tell whether you were looking at them from in front or in back. . . . They held their arms bent like this . . . and their skin--not only on their hands but on their faces and bodies, too--hung down. . . . Wherever I walked, I met these people. . . . Many of them died along the road--I can still picture them in my mind--like walking ghosts. . . . They didn't look like people of this world. . . . They had a special way of walking--very slowly. . . . I myself was one of them. --A Grocer in Hiroshima
Last Spring, television host Phil Donahue devoted one of his programs to showbiz kids. Among his guests were the singing-and-dancing pip-squeaks in the chorus of the delightful hit musical Annie, plus half a dozen child models and actors in TV commercials. If Donahue had done that show a dozen years ago, Connie Brighton probably would have been on it: ''My mother put me into a performing dance school when I was three, and by the time I was six, I was a trained, professional dancer. In my seventh year, I was performing in a Miami Beach hotel, dancing and singing in two shows a night. I even had my own little solo. What I remember most about my childhood is those mornings during the school year when my mother had to wake me up and dress me and feed me, because I was so exhausted from not having had enough sleep. And I never got to go to the beach and play with the other kids, because I was always performing or going to dancing class or singing class or acting class. I've always thought that my mother must have had a very frustrated performer inside her.'' On the other hand, Connie doesn't regret her childhood career. It not only earned much-needed money for her large Coral Gables, Florida, family but also gave her the poise and confidence necessary to face the heady challenges of her adult life, currently including a dual career as a recording artist and as vice-president of Spero International Co., Inc., an entertainment-promotion company in Coconut Grove. The long road between three and 23 (her present age) was, naturally, strewn with more strange, fascinating and wonderful experiences than she can recount. Among the most memorable was becoming Telly (''Love ya, baby'') Savalas' housemate in New York. ''It was shortly after I got out of high school,'' she recalls. ''I was 17, and I went to New York to do a one-night show at the Waldorf and decided to stay in the city for a week to look for work. I had worked with Duke Ellington's granddaughter Mercedes in a Bicentennial show in Miami, and Mercedes lived in New York, so I called her up. She said she knew a choreographer who was putting together a troupe of girls for Telly's act. So I went to the address she gave me and auditioned. While we were all taking a break, Telly came in. I'd been there since early that morning, so I said to him, 'Hey, you're late. You've kept me waiting for a while.' I guess he liked that. Anyway, he noticed me. And I was hired.
With The Burgeoning popularity of college football and the accompanying avalanche of big bucks, those behind-the-scenes manipulators known as athletic directors have had to take a course from the N.F.L. --Competitive Balance 101, it might be called, and the A.D.s have earned an A. By evening out the quality of competition, they've brought more fans into the stands, added gold to their glittering coffers and sold ever more razor blades for the people who advertise on N.C.A.A. football telecasts.
There's plenty to cheer about this fall. For one thing, we've taken our Back to Campus show on the road and photographed the latest looks with some great lookers--all cheerleaders--at the University of Florida. For another thing, collegiate fashion is fun again. Sweaters are the touchstone for this season's wardrobe in styles from stripes and brights to playful patterns. The sweater, of course, epitomizes not only easygoing style and moderate investment but also practicality and versatility. The same considerations come into play with the ever-increasing popularity of active-inspired casualwear (sweat shirts, pull-on drawstring slacks, etc.). Also in the same spirit are the stylishly functional outerwear looks with removable vests or linings that aid in keeping your wardrobe trim and to the point. Naturally, a great tweed sports coat or two will serve well for dressier occasions and, with scarf and gloves, as outerwear for all but the coldest days. OK. All together! Three college cheers for doing as the fashion spirit moves you.
Contributing Editor David Rensin met with Tom Petty in Los Angeles during the recording sessions for his new album. ''He's a regular guy,'' Rensin told us. ''He drinks Coke. He doesn't even act like a rock star--though he is very skinny. But underneath his good manners are strong opinions and an informed rebelliousness. Presumably, that is what makes all the girls go crazy.''
Giant Insects, faceless interstellar invaders and other unimaginable creatures are on the loose. They've escaped from their arcade video screens and are headed your way, hidden inside hand-held boxes and video-game cartridges to engage you in man-vs.-computer battles in your own home. That's especially good news if you've been hesitant to drop a quarter into a coin-operated machine while a band of ten-year-olds stands ready to cite your every wrong move. If, on the other hand, you're an arcadegame addict and can actually keep up with the local prepubescent champ, home versions of your favorite games will save you a pocketful of quarters. In whichever category you fall, you'll have plenty of games to choose from by Christmastime. There'll be home versions of 30 or so popular arcade models ranging from the ever popular Space Invaders to the fascinating 3-D video effects of a new game called Zaxxon. Hold on as we grab a joy stick and guide you through the maze of arcade-derived electronic home games for fall 1982.
You Know, Of Course, that there are hundreds of gorgeous women on college campuses all over the country. Having already brought you Girls of the Southeastern Conference, Girls of the Southwest Conference, Girls/Women of the Ivy League, Girls of the Big Ten and Girls of the Pac-10, we don't have to convince you of that. But our expanding portfolio of America's most comely coeds wouldn't be definitive without a look at the Girls of the Big Eight. So we sent our intrepid Contributing Photographer David Chan off to the heartland of higher education--the universities of Missouri, Kansas, Colorado, Oklahoma and Nebraska and Iowa State, Kansas State and Oklahoma State universities. That's a lot of territory, and we wouldn't have been surprised if David had disappeared in a cornfield like the one above--if not forever, certainly (text concluded on page 220) Girls Of The Big Eight (continued from page 146) until harvest time. We can picture the scenario now: Farmer Jeb comes running into the main house, shouting, ''Maud. it's the goldangdest thing you ever saw. We just emptied out the combine from the back 40 and guess what jumped out? A little Chinese feller with a lot of fancy cameras. He asked me if this was the University of Missouri and where to find the women. I tol' him you was the only woman around here and he asked if you wanted to pose clothed, seminude or nude. I woulda shot him, except he says he's from Playboy. Maud? Where you going. Maud? Put your clothes back on. Maud. . . .'' In truth. Chan, a veteran of our five previous campus campaigns, found his way around just fine and brought back photos of such lovelies as Kansas sophomore Cara Anderson. We asked Cara whether or not most of the schools in the Big Eight have similar atmospheres and similar student bodies (aggregate, not singular, bodies, buddy) and she said, not surprisingly, that the University of Kansas is unique. ''We have all types of people here. A lot of the other schools are very preppie, very Greek. Here, we've got flower children, sorority people, freaky people, punk people, everybody. Yet it's very friendly all around. It's not a cliquish school at all.'' Cara said that the number of girls who had turned out to meet Chan had given her very little hope of appearing in the magazine. ''When I went to see David at his hotel, there was a roomful of girls. Some of them had big portfolios full of pictures. And there are a lot of pretty girls at Kansas. A lot.''
Third Son Chang had the fortune, or misfortune, to marry the most beautiful girl in all the Middle Kingdom. Your opinion depends, of course, on whether or not you have ever been married to a true beauty. But the effect on Chang was that he no longer went to the countinghouse to work.
A press Release summarized the plot of The Road Warrior as follows: ''I remember . . . a time of chaos . . . ruined dreams . . . this wasted land. Men began to feed on men . . . . On the roads, it was a white-line nightmare. Only those mobile enough to scavenge, brutal enough to pillage would survive.'' It sounded like a high-grade weird movie. Word of mouth on the new Mad Max was: ''It has a serious lunatic quality. There's this gang of bikers. One rapes a girl. Then he kills her by firing a crossbow bolt into her crotch. Then the real violence starts.'' What no one warned us about was Virginia Hey. Hey, she's fine.
Now that cameras do everything but press the shutter release, it figures that the same breed of geniuses who simplified still photography to point and shoot would next focus on the development of inexpensive print-making equipment that simplifies home color-film developing. In fact, one unit pictured here is the answer to a stag-film fanatic's prayer: Just run a roll of Super-8 film through Agfa's Family Monitor, push a button when you come to the frame you like and--voilà!--you have a print. And if that sounds too good to be true, there's also Polaroid's Polaprinter, which delivers clear color prints made from slides faster than you can say ''Wonders never cease.''
It appears as though sun worshipers have overrun the landscape of gadgetry, waking folks all over the world with solar alarm clocks that play Good Morning Starshine, Now that there's a solar vacuum bottle, can sun-powered deodorant soap be far behind? (Call it Sundial.) The photovoltaic cell, which converts sunlight to electric power, is to solar electronics what the transistor is to radios and calculators--it makes things small and inexpensive enough to fit most palms. This month's sunny horizon comes packed with everything from lighters that practically flame forever to incredibly accurate light-powered watches--and even includes a solar biplane version of The Blue Max. So heat up your life with a little star fire and stop worrying about power outages. Unless there's a solar eclipse.
Increase the versatility of your wardrobe and, at the same time, stretch your expense allowance by taking a tip from what designers have been doing lately: Rethink your preconceived notion about clothes. (For example, you may recall last December's fashion feature, with a black acrylic pullover, a wing-collared shirt and a red-satin bow tie used as a decidedly offbeat but interesting formal-wear idea.) In other words, if you let your imagination soar, a single item can be made to play many roles. Try a cardigan sweater as a sports jacket, a sports coat layered over sweaters as an outerwear substitute or a loosely knotted necktie worn as a casual accessory. You're the designer. --David Platt
It's no big secret that the topcoat/overcoat industry has been given the cold shoulder in our recessionary economy as more and more dollar-wise consumers make do with last year's models. If your coat is on its last, threadbare legs, however, we recommend two style directions. The first is to check out coats that have a removable liner for obvious all-weather versatility. The other is to look again at what used to be called car coats (or three-quarter-length coats), as they're re-emerging with more style and flair.