With space shuttle Columbia scheduled to make its fifth flight next month and people talking of building a permanent space station, it's all too easy to forget that outer space is still, for human beings, an infinitely hazardous territory. We are reminded of that fact in Space, an excerpt from James Michener's soon-to-be-published (by Random House) novel of the same title. It's about a team of astronauts who visit the "dark side" of the moon just when . . . ah, but that would ruin the suspense. Space is illustrated by our very own out-of-this-world Managing Art Director, Kerig Pope.
Playboy, (ISSN 0032-1478), October, 1982, Volume 29, Number 10. Published Monthly by Playboy, Playboy Bldg., 919 N. Michigan Ave., Chicago, Ill. 60611. Subscriptions: In The United States and its Possessions, $54 For 36 Issues, $38 For 24 Issues, $22 For 12 Issues. Canada, $27 For 12 Issues. Elsewhere, $35 For 12 Issues. Allow 45 Days For New Sub-Scriptions 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 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.
Previews: The booksellers are crying doom and gloom, the economy is a mess, but we want you to know that not only do good books prevail, there are some special things to look forward to on the fall list. In fiction, we have the new Kurt Vonnegut novel, Dead Eye Dick, to anticipate from Delacorte. From Knopf come Bech Is Back, by John Updike; a new Don DeLillo novel called The Names; and Len Deighton's Goodbye, Mickey Mouse, which is about a group of young American fighter pilots in the last winter of World War Two. Random House is publishing Summer Crossing, a first novel by screenwriter Steve Tesich: and Alberto Moravia's new book, 1934 (Farrar, Straus & Giroux), is already being made into a movie by Bernardo Bertolucci, who seems to have a passion for films with dates as titles.
The first half hour of Alan Parker's Pink Floyd The Wall (MGM/UA) is pure razzle-dazzle and feels just right. From the director of Midnight Express, with a screenplay by Roger Waters based on the original Pink Floyd album, what do you expect but reefer madness? Here's a movie to get high by, and the screening I attended was redolent of a long-gone cinema gimmick called Smell-O-Vision; you could see it, hear it and inhale it. Parker and Waters abhor a conventional story line. They all but do away with dialog, in fact, substituting lots of wham-bam-pow imagery, most of it related to a self-destructive rock star named Pink (rocker Bob Geldof, looking stoned), whose father was a soldier and who has a heavy load of angst brought on by school, sex, the nuclear age and society in general. So what else is new? Can Pink find peace in punk? It works wonderfully during the early psychedelic rush. The Wall hits you like a ton of bricks, and some of the blows are brilliant--for instance, a clever animation sequence between a voraciously vaginal pistil and an excited stamen that's far sexier than the film's flesh-and-blood nude scenes. Pretty soon, though, the symbols clash and start to repeat themselves until there's just no place left to go. A good trip, not a great trip. [rating]2-1/2 bunnies[/rating]
Buy Bonds: Gary U.S. Bonds'rock career touches on four decades-- from the 1959 release of the hit single "New Orleans" to the 1982 album "On the Line" (EMI). We sent Senior Staff Writer James R. Petersen to check in with Bonds, who was rediscovered by Bruce Springsteen two years ago. That rediscovery has led to two albums and a revival of Bonds' career.
Reeling and Rocking: Just as you read this, Pink Floyd the Wall will finally be in a theater near you. The movie has already drawn rave reviews, and the band will do a promo tour and appear at the opening-day festivities in New York and L.A. . . . Gary Sandy, late of WKRP in Cincinnati, is all but signed to play the Killer, Jerry Lee Lewis, in one of two pending films on Lewis' life. . . . Two John Travolta reports: Jim Morrison's father does want John for the lead in the movie of his son's life; and it looks as if there will be a sequel to Saturday Night Fever, with Karen Lynn Gorney and Travolta repeating their roles. . . . The Copeland brothers--Police drummer Stewart and manager Miles--are making a New Wave movie called So What. . . . Get ready! Hal Ashby's film of the Stones' tour should be out any minute.
It's been 30 years since "Invisible Man," Ralph Ellison's National Book Award--winning novel, was published by Random House. To celebrate what was, in retrospect, perhaps the most brilliant decision by a book publisher in the past 50 years, Random House has issued a special 30th-anniversary edition of "Invisible Man," Ellison's first and only (thus far) novel. We thought a fitting way to mark the occasion would be to check in with Ellison, so we sent Senior Staff Writer Walter Lowe, Jr., to do just that. Says Lowe, "When I arrived, Ellison was editing his novel in progress with a video terminal on a cluttered table in his den. Producing this second novel has taken him the better part of three decades. I asked him about the changes he's seen in that period."
Idol Gossip: Will the Man of Steel have a brand-new love interest in Superman III? According to rumors, Margot Kidder's role as Lois Lane has been seriously shortened and actress Annette O'Toole has been cast as Clark Kent's old flame Lana Lang. (Comic-book aficionados will no doubt recall the existence of Miss Lang; the film makers adhere religiously to the original plot lines.) Will Lois and Clark split up? It so, is it because he's faster than a speeding bullet? . . . After years of false starts, Jason Miller's award-winning Broadway play That Championship Season will finally be brought to the big screen. From the looks of the casting line-up, the project was well worth the wait: Bruce Dern, Stacy Keach, Robert Mitchum, Martin Sheen and Paul Sorvino will Star, with Miller directing from his own script. . . . Powers Boothe, known for his Emmy-award-winning portrayal of Jim Jones, changes gear to play crack Los Angeles detective Philip Marlowe in six one-hour HBO shows based on short stories by Raymond Chandler . . . . English zany Benny Hill may be appearing in American TV commercials soon, though there's no word yet on what product he'll be hawking. For what it's worth, I'd like to see him take over the Calvin Klein jeans account from Brooke Shields . . . . Director Elia Kazan and writer Budd Schulberg want to do a contemporary remake of their 1957 classic A Face in the Crowd. The original starred Andy Griffith as Lonesome Rhodes, the backwoods guitar picker who becomes a national-TV celebrity. . . . James Cagney and Mickey Rooney are talking about appearing together in a film. The project under discussion, Flesh and Blood, has been scripted by Rooney. Jimmy would play Mickey's pop.
I'm a 20-year-old woman. I don't want to suggest that I have a dirty mind, but I fantasy like crazy when I masturbate. On occasion, I will drift off while making love to a real person. I've read Nancy Friday and The Hite Report. Those books tell you that women have fantasies and that there's no such thing as weird or normal. But I wonder. Is there such a thing as too much fantasy? Shouldn't I be able to get off on the real thing? What effect does my fantasy life have on my love life?--Miss T. S., Dallas, Texas.
One common theme in all the letters this column gets from readers is this: Playmates are so beautiful that they never have any trouble getting a date. The implication is that the women in Playboy aren't like the rest of us. Not so, dear reader. We decided to take this particular question directly to the Playmates.
Four years ago, an unknown, offbeat comic named Robin Williams starred in the first installment of TV's "Mork & Mindy," and after two weeks, the ABC sitcom became one of TV's top-ten-rated programs--and Williams was being hailed as the medium's brightest young star. As Mark from the planet Ork, Williams portrayed a zany, engaging extraterrestrial whose rapid-fire ripostes were the series' strongest asset. Ably supported by actress Pam Dawbcr, who played his girlfriend (and then his wife), Williams made mincemeat of TV's tidy demographics, for he somehow appealed as much to adults as to children. Although the industry had anticipated a warmed-over remake of "My Favorite Martian," "Mark & Mindy" turned into a showcase for one of the most remarkable talents TV has ever presented. Within a very short time, indeed, the show's 55,000,000 weekly viewers were delighting themselves (and driving everyone else batty) by greeting one another with their Orkan hero's best-known phrase, "Nano nano."
The three astronauts went to bed early on the night of April 22, 1973. On April 23, they were wakened for breakfast at 0400, and Deke Slayton, with five other NASA officials, was surprised when Major Randy Claggett lifted his glass of orange juice and toasted: "To William Shakespeare, whose birthday we celebrate with a mighty bang." Claggett, the ex-football hero, profane, tough and make-believe illiterate, was always full of surprises.
Face It, reader-san. Ever since you read ShŌgun, you've wondered if Mariko were a figment of James Clavell's imagination. Do such women really exist? Images of the tea ceremony, of courage, of grace, of sexual cleverness, the combination of shyness and incredible technique lurk on the edges of your private erotic movies. Last October, we sent our own team of barbarians to the Land of the Rising Sun. Not since Anjin-san was tossed upon those alien shores had there been such a collision of cultures. Associate Photo Editor Jeff Cohen, Staff Photographer Richard Fegley and stylist Jane Friedman had one goal: to scout out the beauties of Mayako Murata (above) is an aspiring actress. We caught her between takes of a samurai epic, reclining in a one-acre rice paddy in metropolitan Kyoto. Natsuko Kann (above right) is a graduate student at the Tokyo University of Art and Design. When not perfecting her craft as a painter, she travels or does modeling for the Japanese edition of Playboy.
I went in after eighth grade and came out seven years later. When I left, I was 21 years old, a virgin, scared stiff. I had never met a Jew; I had never been on a date; most of my cultural heroes had Saint affixed to their names.
Having a stereo hookup in the living room--or wherever you do your serious listening--spawns an urge for a second system, in the den, in the bedroom or at the office. Until recently, such a supplementary stereo usually meant inferior sound, fewer features and limited versatility. Today, however, a second system covers a broad range of options. At one end of the equipment spectrum, there are tiny speakers, such as the AudioSource LS-Six, that fit in the palm of your hand and can be connected to a personal portable stereo of the Walkman type. Call it the Walkman Connection. You listen via headphones while jogging or cycling; when you reach your destination, you swap them for the tiny speakers and the band plays on. Of course, exactly what constitutes anyone's second system is a matter of available space and budget. For example, you can get truly hedonistic with the $1000 Luxman RX-103 stereo receiver, which has a wireless remote-control box that lets you operate the equipment from across the room. Related Luxman components that can also be controlled--from, say, your bed without your having to ruffle the sheets--include the PX-101 turntable and the KX-102 cassette recorder. In similarly sybaritic style, there's the Bang & Olufsen 8000 system. With microcomputer options as well as remote control, its receiver, turntable and cassette deck are all designed to look (continued on page 190) Sound Judgment (continued from page 107) virtually like clones of one another; when arranged side by side, they form a convincing display of Scandinavian high style and high tech. Again, this is equipment to provide unprecedented luxury in any room of the house or, for that matter, in an executive office. One of Akai's prematched-component systems, the PRO-3033 ($1800), can also be operated from across the room, using wireless remote control. Units in that setup include an integrated amplifier, a digital tuner, a direct-drive turntable, a cassette recorder and a pair of three-way-speaker systems.
At one point during our recent conversation with Marianne Gravatte, she whipped out a comb, ran it through her sunny locks, then braided them into a pigtail at the nape of her neck. She added a spangle from her purse to the end of the pigtail and tied a brightly colored band around her forehead. The whole process seemed to take seconds. She was instantly transformed from lush and lovely into bright and sporty. Amazingly, although she had not once consulted a mirror, the finished coif was perfectly done.
After it was done, Chuck walked past Marlene into the Olives' living room, his yellow sport shirt splattered with blood. He slumped down onto the new cloth-covered couch and stared into the fireplace. Either the stereo, tuned perpetually to the progressive rock of radio station KTIM, was barely audible or the shots had temporarily deafened him. He was still high from the drugs he had taken that first summer morning of 1975, and now he felt dizzy and sick to his stomach as well. He hardly took notice when Marlene came over, curled up next to him and began to run her hand through his silky chestnut hair--his best feature, she thought--and nuzzle his neck. "It's going to be all right now, Chuck," she said soothingly. "Everything will be OK. They can't interfere anymore."
Quite Simply, Gentlemen, what you'll see emerging in the next six to 12 months from the creative cutting rooms and the designer salons of today's menswear moguls will be superlative. The same fashion-industry energy that spawned the men's peacock revolution back in the late Sixties is being channeled into looks that wed traditional fabrics to contemporary styling in a way that will appeal to conservative types as well as to those whose tastes are more avant. Much has been written about the emergence of the British look in fashion. While the tweeds, Shetlands, Argyles, etc., of Blighty do play an important role in the current market, they're only part of the story. Strong American--and Italian--influences are also going to be felt, with the U.S. contributing innovative color treatments and the upbeat look of contemporary sportswear and the Italians adding a dash of sensuality and flair. All in all, none of it is radically new and, better yet, none of it will be effete or costumy.
Like many graduates of Harvard College and the Harvard Graduate School of Business, John LeBoutillier is on the fast track. His field happens to be national politics. A top Republican fund raiser in his college-sophomore year, author of a book taking his alma mater to task for its liberal leanings, he got himself elected to the House of Representatives at the age of 27. One can't help thinking that he, like any other ambitious M.B.A., has his sights set on the executive suite--in his business, that's called the Oval Office. Warren Kalbacker met with the Congressman on Capitol Hill and later in his New York office. "Some people may accuse conservatives of living in the 19th Century," Kalbacker told us, "but LeBoutillier thrives in our media age. At one of our meetings, he pulled out a tape recorder and made his own copy of our conversation. Then he gave me the cassette. He wasn't taking any chances that his words might not be coming through loud and clear."
It is a little-known fact that many of today's top songwriters, being the talented people they are, were also precocious songwriting children. Now, with the release by Fisher-Price of the new LP First Songs, the record-buying public w[unclear] finally have a chance to hear brilliant and distinctive early works by some of its favorite pop composers. What follows is a preview of the album, which has already shipped plastic.
There's something heroic about the movie version of a doctor's life: the awesome power; the chilling responsibility; the precarious balance out there on the edge, where life and death meet but never seriously date. Of course, the physicians we encounter in our daily lives are worlds apart from their cinematic counterparts. Indeed, it is difficult to relate the image of a young, eager Jim Kildare to that of the bored-looking gent in the knit tie coming at you with a lubricated glove. But that's why we have movies. To give us a dose of insight into the way doctors have been portrayed in the past, we've tapped the expertise of Michael McKean, the most recent star of such a movie--Young Doctors in Love, an outrageous send-up of life in a hospital.
In a year-long effort to find sex on-campus 1982, Playboy has learned that college is a lot like Disneyland: You know it's there, but if you haven't enjoyed it for a while, you may have forgotten how much fun it is. We found a lot of Mickey Mouse, a growing number of fairies and legions of young Snow Whites, but we'd be Dumbos not to report that the campus-sex scene is still a magic kingdom.
She Played Julie, the last and one of the most glorious of Charlie's Angels, replacing Shelley Hack, who had, in turn, filled the gap after the defection of Farrah. She's now Kiri the slave girl, a medieval warrior woman sharing captivity with a number of unpredictable cats, in The Beastmaster. Although their eyes may hint at ancient mysteries, not a cat in a carload can compete with tawny Tanya Roberts when her stunning peepers suddenly beam onto you like a pair of sky-blue spots. Sipping vodka, I wait for her in a dim little hotel bar. It's been raining outside, gray and sloshy, with a string of puddles between here and nearby Gramercy Park. New York weather is rotten until the moment Tanya appears. She's got on blue-and-yellow-striped minishorts, with a matching top. Those eyes. Those legs. Sunshine after the rain.
Now it is long ago, the fifth month of the third year of Genroku. Kubota was as happy a man as could be found in the 36 provinces. His reputation as a master polisher of swords had grown along with his good fortune, and now his home was among the finest in Kyoto; his shop, the busiest.
To the Western visitor, Japanese society seems to exhibit a mysterious mixture of openness and prudishness when it comes to sex. We asked Contributing Editor Peter Ross Range, who has spent time on various assignments in the Land of the Rising Sun, to report.
Men's fashions sporting the familiar Playboy logo and Rabbit Head continue to proliferate. Active sportswear, raingear and headwear have been added to the collections of suits, shoes, sleepwear and accessories. Our athletic-footwear line is right in step for joggers and racquetball players. And a new label for women, Playmate by Playboy, sums up a collection of leotards, tights, hosiery, underwear, nightshirts, tote bags, sunglasses and swimwear. Look for Playboy-licensed products nationwide.
Solly Gets Annie A date to Jump Out of A Birthday Cake, Nude did you Ever Wonder At This Curious Custom? Why, For Instance, Doesn't A Nude Jump Out Of Potato Salad? Or A Rib Roast? After All, Not Everybody Likes Dessert.We're Getting Big Bucks For This Gig, Honey, So You Know What To DoWhere Is Pierre, My Helper?
On a clear day, rise and look outside and you'll see the intrigues and the wonders of your neighborhood. Half the fun of having an apartment is maintaining close visual contact with the bustle and the hustle around you. That includes the opposite sex (the bonus can be meeting them later on in singles bars). But a clear focus on all that calls for a little help from a friendly pair of binoculars, a telescope or a similar viewing device. After all, you're not laying out all that long green just to keep your head in a smoggy cloud or to watch old ladies walk their poodles in the park. While the optics of a good pair of binoculars are as crisp and bright as a winter morn, the instrument's body may resemble something Montgomery carried at El Alamein--military chic being the order of the day in many models. Or, if what you see is what you'd like to preserve in your photo album, Tasco makes a pair of nifty wide-angle 7x20 binoculars (with a 100 mm telephoto lens) that doubles as a 110 camera. And if you're into heavenly bodies of another sort, the bulbous Astroscan 2001 telescope is an "Open sesame!" to the magical majesty of the night sky. Say, honey, it's 11:20. Whaddaya say we go back up to my place and watch Venus rising?
It's been a long time since your mother made you take piano lessons, but if there's still a little latent Marvin Hamlisch deep in your soul, the microchip age we live in can actually make tickling the ivories fun. Not only do today's keyboard instruments take the drudgery out of carrying a tune, some of them even remember it for you.