OK. you've put down your $3.50. You've done your part. This is where we take the wheel. Sit down, relax, let our richly diverse March issue drive you to distraction. Have you ever fallen in deep, meaningful, this-is-the-real-thing love with a disembodied voice on the radio? It was one of those things just bound to happen: More women are on the radio, while more men are caught in expressway traffic jams with the radio on. Staff Photographer David Mecey photographed the embodiments of those voices for our silent appreciation of on-air talent, Radio Visions. Seeing is believing.
Playboy, (ISSN 0032-1478), March 1986, Volume 33, Number 3. Published Monthly by Playboy, Playboy Building, 919 North Michigan Avenue, Chicago, Illinois 60611. Subscriptions: In the United States and its possessions, $56 for 36 issues, $38 for 24 issues, $24 for 12 issues. Canada, $35 for 12 issues. Elsewhere, $35 (U.S. currency) 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 55230, Boulder, Colorado 80323-5230, and allow 45 days for change. Marketing: Ed Condon, Director/Direct Marketing; Jack Bernstein, Circulation Promotion Director. Advertising: Joe Mangione, Advertising Promotion Director; Jay Remer, National Alcoholic Beverages Marketing Manager; Brian Van Mols, National Automotive Marketing Manager, 747 Third Avenue, New York, New York 10017; Linda Malanga, Chicago Manager, 919 N. Michigan Ave., Chicago, Ill. 60611; 3001 West Big Beaver Road, Troy, Michigan 48084; Los Angeles 90010, Stanley L. Perkins, Manager, 4311 Wilshire Blvd.; San Francisco 94104, Tom Jones, Manager, 417 Montgomery St.
Breasts. America loves 'em. They've nurtured the young and the old, inspired songs and sonnets, war and peace, not to mention a major men's magazine. We could go on forever, so we will--with a lengthy tribute to the names, nicknames and euphemisms that have come to characterize chest fever. The following extensive but by no means exhaustive list was compiled by amateur etymologists Parker Bennett and Tom Mannis.
What the World needs now, I strongly suspect, is Woody Allen's warm-blooded, wonderful new romance, Hannah and Her Sisters (Orion). Hannah, of course, is Mia Farrow, playing the most winsome Allen heroine since Annie Hall in a tangled tale as irresistibly indigenous to Manhattan as Woody's 1979 film by that title. Hannah is a generous housewife and sometime theatrical star who's crazy about children (seven of Mia's own brood appear in the movie, along with her mother, veteran screen star Maureen O'Sullivan, as a slightly dipsomaniacal grandma). One of Hannah's sisters is having an affair with Hannah's husband (Barbara Hershey and Michael Caine excel as the illicit in-laws), while her sister the would-be actress who has sworn off drugs (played with kookie brilliance by Dianne Wiest) tries a career as a gourmet caterer before she switches gears with a novel about her family's foibles. Among the eccentric males who complicate the women's lives are Max Von Sydow, the late Lloyd Nolan (as Hannah's father) and Allen himself, portraying Hannah's first husband and accompanying everyone else with riffs of wickedly funny social satire. He is a TV entrepreneur who gives up the tube to explore Catholicism, Buddhism and Wonder Bread, only to decide that life is, indeed, meaningless: "I've read Socrates... he used to knock off little Greek boys. What's he going to teach me?"
Reeling and Rocking: We hear that Madonna has been offered the role created by Brigitte Bardot in the movie And God Created Woman; the remake, like the original, will be directed by Roger Vadim. Madonna and Sean Penn are also considering Shanghai Surprises, from George Harrison's Handmade Films.... Kurtis Blow has some new movies up his sleeve: Bamboo Cross, described as a spin-off of Rambo, and a co-starring role in the Fat Boys feature due out this spring.... Mick Jones of Foreigner has written some songs for Purple Rain director Albert Magnoli's new film, American Anthem....New Edition is discussing a movie about a basketball team with Krush Groove director Michael Schultz .... Mickey Thomas sings the theme song from Rob Lowe's new movie, Young Blood.
"My Assignment...was to travel to Haiti, find the voodoo sorcerers responsible and obtain samples of the poison and antidote, observing their preparation and if possible documenting their use." So writes Wade Davis in The Serpent and the Rainbow (Simon & Schuster), and his mission was mostly accomplished. Davis is a Harvard ethnobotanist who explored the world of Haitian voodoo, participated in its ceremonies, sought the secrets of zombification (putting people into a deathlike trance and then raising them from their graves) and came back from Haiti with the knowledge that secret societies have more power on that island than either church or state. You might call this Indiana Jones Goes Spooking. And spooky it is.
Another pro football season is finally over, but the future of the sport hunkers before me in the form of a Chicago Bear named William "The Refrigerator" Perry, ex-Clemson, magna cum lunch meat. By next season, I fear, every team in the N.F.L. will have a "conversation topic" on its roster. Advertisers will go mad with excitement; talk-show bookers will burn up the telephone wires; fans will replace the propellers on their hard hats with, oh, I don't know, Bob Costas dolls, maybe; and Brent Musburger, having read the newspapers, will be afforded many more opportunities to lecture America on the things that he knows and it doesn't.
About four o'clock on the afternoon of Wednesday, October 30, 1985, Sylvia Seegrist parked her car at the Springfield Shopping Mall near Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. She got out of the car, wearing combat fatigues and sneakers and carrying a rifle. Without saying anything, she started shooting.
It's worse than bad--it's half good," Dashiell Hammett told his girlfriend, Lillian Hellman, after he'd read the first version of one of her plays, and it's a crack that has ridden around with me ever since I read it years ago in Hellman's An Unfinished Woman.
About ten years ago, a girl I was dating was, indeed, perfect in every way, save one: She refused me oral sex. It was OK for me to go down on her, but I never received the same consideration. After several months of near begging on my part, she confessed to me that she thought my dick was unattractive and bushy-looking. I was a bit hurt--one doesn't have one's dick commented on very often in such a manner. She told me she would go down on me if I let her trim the hair around my crotch. I was desperate, and I figured, why not? She trimmed the hair to about half an inch in length, and I have to admit that the feeling was not at all unpleasant. And to be honest, it didn't look bad, either. It sort of blended in with the hair on my stomach and legs. After that, she became insatiable about oral sex. She loved it. That was ten years ago, and that girl and I have since parted, but I continue to trim my pubic hair. Women love it, and I find it more comfortable, especially during warm months. I am not gay, bisexual or a pervert--just horny and well groomed. I mean, we trim our nose hairs, don't we?--R. C., Fairpark, New York.
The land is awash in lasciviousness and lust, the U.S. Supreme Court has confirmed. But the Court also found that these amount to sexual longing, are a healthy, even wholesome, part of life and are protected by the Constitution.
Many rock bands do stupid things, from taking drugs to biting off the heads of bats; and they advocate even dumber ones (at least, I don't think Ozzy Osbourne has actually taken his own advice and committed suicide). But no rock star has ever achieved an atrocity as damaging as those pulled off by the apparently respectable groups that are censoring rock songs. Groups such as:
To be a successful actress, it's said, you need drive, tenacity, talent and resilience in the face of rejection. It also doesn't hurt to have good looks. But if you're just kind of cute, and you haven't gone to drama school, and you did your growing up as a teen sweetheart on TV and then went from that to an even more preposterous role--a nun who flies--well, the odds of your someday being considered among the greatest actresses are pretty slim.
Dan Flynn went out on the road in the hot morning to finish interviewing people for his presentencing report on James F. Teal. He started at Runciman Wire & Cable in the Taunton Industrial Park, where he had a 9:15 appointment with Teal's former supervisor.
Jack Kennedy understood that the most important, probably the only dynamic culture in America, the only culture to enlist the imagination and change the character of Americans, was the one we had been given by the movies. Therefore a void existed at the center of American life. No movie star had the mind, courage or force to be national leader, and no national leader had the epic adventurous resonance of a movie star. So the President nominated himself. He would fill the void. He would be the movie star come to life as President. That took genius.
The Nails on one hand were a definite pink; those on the other leaned toward coral. Kim Morris said it was a test to see which she liked better. The different colors didn't matter much then; it was just an informal lunch. But they would the next day, when she would have to put hands and body on the line for a modeling job. Then, you can rest assured, Kim's nails would be perfect. Experimentation is part of her life: Try this, try that, see what works. At 27, she's loping along, confident and comfortable. A few years ago, she didn't know where she might be headed. "I was an orthodontist's assistant, working in Hawaii. Two of my girlfriends had gone to audition for a job billed as 'partially nude.' It was for the Crazy Horse Revue from Paris, playing in Hawaii. I said, 'Are you crazy? I could never do that.' But I went and saw the show; it was fabulous. They projected slides over the women, all seventeen of them. So it was tasteful--it was like hidden seductiveness--and it came off really well. I said, 'I want to be up there.' And I went, took off my clothes, and they said, 'You're hired.' I danced for two years."
Three spinsters died and appeared at the pearly gates. Unfortunately, the gates were out of order. An apologetic angel offered to send each of the ladies back to earth for two weeks as anyone she chose.
For weeks during the early Alabama spring of 1983, Fred Smith regarded the growing stacks of messages with disbelief. The previous January, when he was appointed Alabama corrections commissioner by Governor George Wallace, Smith had known that as head of the state prison system, he would face the most vexing test required of any appointed or elected official--supervising the execution of another man. To handle the task, he had mentally steeled himself for months, memorizing and rehearsing the state's intricate procedures for capital punishment until he was satisfied that on the night of the execution of (continued on page 108)Executioner(continued from page 96) convicted murderer John Louis Evans III, as he carried out his duties by rote, he could respond to the revulsion of ending Evans' life as coldly and as indifferently as if he were only a piece of machinery in the electrocution chamber. But Smith had no warnings to prepare him for the stacks of messages he was receiving.
The Talking Heads are one of the most intriguing and influential bands in music. They have combined stark arrangements, feverishly pounding beats and hysterical lyrics to capture an audience that has outgrown the avant-garde fringe--and, surprisingly, have had hit singles from their seventh LP, "Little Creatures." Last year's Talking Heads film and sound-track LP "Stop Making Sense" were also critical and commercial smashes. The ringleader in all the fine madness is 33-year-old David Byrne, singer, songwriter and guitarist, who, solo, has also scored a Twyla Tharp dance, sections of an opera, has collaborated with Brian Eno on an album rooted in African rhythms and produced bands such as B-52's. Victoria and David Sheff ate sushi and drank sake with Byrne in L.A. Their report: "Although his clothes were weird--a white panama hat, white short-sleeved shirt buttoned nerdly to the collar and, yes, pencils sticking out of his shirt pocket--the biggest surprise about Byrne was how generally unweird he is. For someone who implores us to stop making sense, he made an awful lot of it."
Stu Lapine doesn't like to read, but he did write a book. It is a simple document with names, places, dates and numbers. One of the names in Stu Lapine's book is Marty Rose. It has been 20 years since Lapine wrote Rose's name, but it is still there.
During The quarter century in which Bunnies have been hopping around the Playboy Clubs of the world, everybody's been trying to get into the act--or at least into the costume. Male celebrities, among them Johnny Carson, Burt Reynolds, the Smothers Brothers and Steve Allen, haven't been able to resist donning Bunny ears and/or tails. Females fortunate enough to have the figure for it--for example, Cher, Carrie Fisher, Penny Marshall, Barbara Walters, Farrah Fawcett, the ladies of the original Saturday Night Live and, on our current cover, Sally Field--have enthusiastically modeled the entire outfit. A number of notable women, such as singers Deborah Harry and Dale Bozzio and actresses Lauren Hutton, Susan Sullivan, Lynne Moody and Julie Cobb, actually worked as Bunnies while waiting for their showbiz breaks. The Playboy Club Bunny's attire of waist-hugging suit and matching satin ears, accented by collar, bow tie, cuffs and pumps with three-inch heels, soon became arguably the most reconizable civilian uniform in the world--and certainly the first ever to have been registered as a service mark with the U.S. Patent Office. Over the period of those 25 years, minor changes have been made, from the early appearance of collars and cuffs to the addition of psychedelic-print fabrics and the introduction of beruffled Cabaret outfits. Still, the basic design remained the same.
Everybody wants a piece of the Yup pie. That's why your mailbox is full of fliers offering new, improved credit cards. American Express Platinum leads the way, but Sears recently debuted its Discover card, and JCPenney is now in the bank-card biz. A new home owner's card offer's cut-rate shopping for everything from tax preparation to Preparation H.
What becomes a legend most? A luxe mink coat? Along, flashy limo? While there are those who would have you believe that the watch that ticks the loudest works the best, that's not necessarily the case. The best isn't ostentatious-ness or glitz. The best is style and innovation, originality and execution. The best, above all, is class. It can be represented by something as sensuous as a fine silk robe or as brilliantly simple as a baseball bat destined for a place in the Hall of Fame. Here, we present a sampling of the best. This, as we see it, is as good as it gets.
Wake Up, America--you're tuned to Women on the Air, the rock-'n'-roll/country-and-western/classical program that rocks the Rockies, strums the South and classifies the cutest disc jocks on the dial. We know you've fallen in love with Trish Talk on the radio, gone to one of her promotional gigs and found out she could pass for a Hulkster. We hate for you to be disappointed. That's why we've dialed up 17 women with faces and figures to match their sexy voices and your best imaginings. So forget about Garrison Keillor for the moment and join us in the studio. This is the golden age of radio. What's it like being the disembodied female voice (text concluded on page 148)Radio Visions(continued from page 123) tickling the eardrums of multitudes of men? To Frankie Hutchison--an audiovisual package that belongs on MTV if any ever did--"It's great, but it's strange. A lot of listeners who haven't seen me think I'm blonde. Is that a compliment?" The misconception was rectified when Kansas City's KYYS distributed nearly 200,000 posters of Frankie, a brunette. "The posters weren't sexy, though," she says. "In my Playboy picture, you can see through the top of my swimsuit. Our station is number one with men 18 to 49, and they're going to freak out!" An aside to Frankie's listeners: She says most of the guys who listen to KY-102 are "really nice-looking." And she doesn't have a boyfriend.
"My agent told me, 'It's a short, fat girl with braces, but go anyway.' " And so, Jami Gertz ended up at the Chicago auditions for Square Pegs, a ground-breaking sitcom of a few seasons back. Although tall and lean, with average dentition, Gertz turned out to be so good in the part of Muffy Tepperman, a hilariously self-involved high schooler, that, when the show folded, Gertz was out of work for less than 24 hours. And she hasn't stopped working since.
"Sure, I don't drink, smoke or use drugs," says rock-'n'-roller Chris Isaak, "but that doesn't make me Pat Boone, does it? If Hitler didn't smoke or drink, you still wouldn't call him an all-German kind of guy, would you? Believe me, there's more to vice than smoking and drinking."
"I want the Yuppie dollar," says Peter Heineman, purveyor of designer frozen seafood. "I'm after the crowd that wants restaurant food at home. If people are satisfied eating Gorton's or Mrs. Paul's, that's their problem."
For the Louisiana state executioner, there are no ambiguities or second thoughts about his free-lance job. He pushes buttons. A Start button and a Stop button. The buttons control electrical surges to the electric chair at Louisiana's Angola Prison. In a matter of minutes, he leaves the prison, the task he has just completed a thing of the past.
"The Heart of Robert Jarvik"--What sort of man manufactures hearts? Our reporter probed the heart of the father of the controversial Jarvik-7 and found a kind of artist lurking inside--By Laurence Gonzales