While the rest of us were watching the Gulf war on CNN, Contributing Editor Morgan Strong was racing toward Kuwait City in the cab of a Toyota pickup. That vantage point had its drawbacks, such as unexploded ordnance, Iraqi soldiers and mine fields. But it also afforded a perspective free of the dreaded press pool. For his battlefield piece No, Mein Kuwait (illustrated by Amy Crehore), Strong got to the heart of the newly liberated country and took a close look at the real winners of this war. No, they weren't the Kuwaitis--or the Americans.
Playboy, (ISSN 0032-1478), July 1991, Volume 38, Number 7, Published monthly by Playboy, 680 North Lake Shore Drive, Chicago, Illinois 60611. Subscriptions: $29.97 for 12 Issues, U.S., Canada $43.97 for 12 Issues. All other Foreign, $45 U.S. Currency only for new and renewal orders and change of address. Send to Playboy subscriptions, P.O. Box 2007, Harlan, Iowa 51537-4007. Please allow 6--8 weeks for processing. For change of address, send new and old addresses and allow 45 days for change. Postmaster: Send form 3579 to Playboy, P.O. Box 2007, Harlan, Iowa 51537-4007. Advertising: New York, 747 Third avenue, New York 10017; Chicago; 680 North Lake Shore Drive, Chicago 60611; West Coast: 8560 Sunset Boulevard, Los Angeles, CA 90069; Metropolitan Publishers Representatives, Inc.: Atlanta; 3017 Piedmont Road Ne, Suite 100, Atlanta, GA 30305; Miami: 2500 South Dixie Highway, Miami, FL 33133; Tampa: 3016 Mason Place, Tampa, FL 33629.
Starring Madonna, who is credited as the film's executive producer, Truth or Dare (Miramax) sounds like a vanity production that might shy away from any titillating revelations. But prudence and caution are not Madonna's style. This highly effective game of picture-making peekaboo was shot backstage and off stage during the rock bombshell's Blond Ambition tour by director Alex Keshishian, 26, who was clearly given a green light to catch his instinctively camera-wise subject off guard--with family members, with Warren Beatty, with gay dancers tumbling around in bed, with staff members in nightly preshow prayers or at lunch, where she impishly demonstrates oral sex with a water bottle. On stage, she is a phenomenal exhibitionist. At leisure backstage or in a hotel suite, she is still every inch a superstar--willful, beautiful, opinionated, very much in charge of her surroundings and about as vulnerable as an armored tank. [rating]3-1/2 bunnies[/rating]
Rousingly celebrated in faraway places as the female Bruce Lee, blonde Cynthia Rothrock is a martial-arts champ and traffic-stopping movie star (with 14 foreign-made films under her black belt). Her public appearances instigate riots from London to Hong Kong. "When I made a movie in Indonesia, people were screaming and chasing me. And in the Philippines, they said, 'If you want to run for president, you'll probably win.'"
"I don't go to the movies," says Mario Puzo, two-time Oscar winner and best-selling author of The Godfather, "because I love to watch videos." Playing regularly on one of two huge home screens are, naturally, the Corleone family saga ("I watched parts one and two four times in order to write the third"); Gone with the Wind ("The second half is much worse than the first"); Chariots of Fire ("because it's charming"); and Jesus Christ Superstar, which he has seen "a thousand times" despite walking out on it in the theater. "As for horror movies," he says, "I never watch them, though The Exorcist is a perfectly executed film." Of oldies that "stand up well," Puzo cites The Informer and Double Indemnity. "[Producer] Bob Evans said Body Heat was better than Indemnity, but he's full of shit, for my money." So what won't Puzo watch? "Music videos. To me, they're just kids being wise guys."
Rudest Dad's-Day Video:My Father the Clown;Least Kosher Instructional Tape:Ham: Lesson 25;Best Blind-Date-Bailout Video:Introduction to Securities Filings Under the 1933 and 1934 Acts;Least Subtle "Howdy, Neighbor" Video:Chicago to New York: Drop Dead;Best Easier-Said-than-Done Video:Cineradiographic Examination of the Velopharyngeal Mechanism;Best Thrill-a-Minute Video:The Dime;Best It's-a-Living Video:Basics of Restroom Cleaning.
Looking for a video and can't find it anywhere? The Critics' Choice Video Search Line (900-370-6500) fields your inquiry--by title, star or subject matter--and does the search for you. Your only costs are the call (one dollar for the first minute, 50 cents each additional minute) and the video itself. Allow one to two weeks for a response.... Brian Heir's Tone-A-Metrics exercise video is a true ground breaker: The workout is especially designed for the physically challenged (those recovering from accidents or disease, the obese, AIDS patients) with exercises that can be done from bed. Tape also features a color-coded icon in the corner of the screen for easy fast-forwarding to the exercises of your choice. Call 800-678-HEIR for more info.... Best new vid blast from the past: V.I.E.W.'s Video's The Patti Page Video Songbook, 18 tunes from her Fifties TV show, including How Much Is That Doggie in the Window? and Tennessee Waltz.
Prince wasn't searching for another protégée when an accidental listen to Elisa Fiorillo's voice got his attention. Her current single "Oooh, This I Need" was written and produced by Prince. And, like Prince, the classically trained Fiorillo is dead set on breaking out of the dance-pop pack. Part of her battle plan includes listening to artists who are inspiring a lot of critical buzz--such as the Rembrandts, who've just released a self-titled album.
How to get a man department: When asked about her romantic possibilities, Sheena Easton said, "My mother told me, when the right person comes along, be sure you have clean underwear on." Bet Sheena's mom isn't anything like June Cleaver.
I Hate deadlines. I'm staring at the screen of my Leading Edge model D personal computer--get an IBM clone, everyone said, so I did--but the words aren't coming. I pick up my Sony ten-channel multi-access cordless phone and call my boss, using AT&T, not MCI, not U.S. Sprint. "Arthur," I say, my voice brimming with contempt, "I hate you and your fucking deadlines. I'm going to cut off all ten of your fingers with my Black & Decker three-in-one jigsaw, put each one in a separate heavy-duty Ziploc freezer bag with a write-on label and mail them with my Publishers Clearing House entry."
Now that the dust storm of the manufactured controversy over Bret Easton Ellis' American Psycho (Vintage) has settled, what have we learned? Let's review the situation: Brat-pack novelist with sagging sales pens sicko shocker about a Yuppie serial murderer; Richard Snyder, president of Simon & Schuster, exercises good editorial judgment in deciding not to publish it; Sonny Mehta, president of Vintage, exercises good business judgment in deciding to publish it; the Los Angeles chapter of NOW announces an ill-advised boycott of Knopf/Vintage books to protest the novel's depictions of violence against women; publicity that money couldn't buy ensues; a few critics praise Ellis' satirical eye; a few bookstores refuse to carry it; Vintage ships the entire first printing. American Psycho is a best seller.
Duke called me recently from his law office in Los Angeles. He was not in great shape, but there was still a touch of humor to his griping. Duke is part Hawaiian, and even when he is pissed off, he tends not to take himself too seriously.
I'm confused. My past ten or so dates (mostly guys I've met through personal ads or singles dances) have been professional men who act like cheapskates. They want to meet for coffee only. One even told me he didn't know me well enough to buy me dinner. Yet they all have one thing in common: They expect me to give them oral sex after only two hours of conversation. Don't these guys know people can still get AIDS that way? Do they think this is safe sex? Is it just Los Angeles?--Miss D. G., Los Angeles, California.
Let's get one thing clear: Lois Robinson was never physically assaulted or sexually propositioned in the course of her work as a welder at the Jacksonville, Florida, shipyard. She was promoted from third-class welder to second-class welder and from second-class welder to first-class welder for the usual reasons.
Quick: The attorney general's office for the state of Indiana has spent six years in court, thousands of taxpayer dollars, the service of its best lawyers and the opinions of several Reagan-appointed judges in a valiant crusade on behalf of which of the following causes?
<p><em>There are many logical places you might find a famous director, writer, producer or actor-in a bungalow office on the studio back lot, poolside in Bel Air or maybe at a prominent, table at Le Dome. But if you're looking for the most successful hyphenate in movies-a man who is the writer, producer, director and star of a series of commercially and critically successful films-forget Hollywood and head for a renovated three-story firehouse in the Fort Greene section of Brooklyn.</em></p>
The Day the ground war was launched against Iraq, I hooked up with the Kuwaiti army to witness the initial thrust to reclaim its homeland. I figured the Kuwaitis would be the first to strike, then enter and liberate, the prize of the war, Kuwait City. They would be accompanied by an overwhelming Allied force, of course, but the political realities at the front held that the honor of spearheading the assault would rightly belong to an Arab army, presumably the Kuwaitis.
Lost in the tumult of events that make up world affairs, most of us have been downright insensitive about humble Bulgaria and everything it has done for us. Like what? you ask. Well, it's not as if we can look on the back of a VCR and see Made in bulgaria or watch nimble Bulgarian gymnasts capture our hearts at the Olympics. It turns out there's a good reason we haven't been grateful to the Bulgarians. While they seem to have plenty of time to churn out machine parts and tobacco for their main ally, the Soviet Union, they have given us nothing, nada, the big goose egg. Until now. With the Communist Party out of power in Bulgaria, the paterfamilias, Mikhail Gorbachev, hanging by a thread and the success of Desert Storm showing the world who's top dog, the Bulgarians apparently want to make amends. And they're doing it in the best way possible: by sending us one of their leading rock stars. This isn't the first time Sonia Vassileva has been sent abroad to make her countrymen look good--she was also the very first Miss Bulgaria to carry the flag to the Miss World contest. (It was in 1988 and Miss Iceland won, but there were, no doubt, politics involved.) Already a star in her native country, Sonia has been angling to get out of Bulgaria for years. "I want to be famous not only in Bulgaria," she says in surprisingly good English. "I want to be famous all over the world." But at first, getting out was not easy--in the pre-glasnost days, there was no such thing as a Bulgarian passport; the government simply assumed you weren't going anywhere and you obliged. Sonia made the best of the situation by performing with a top Bulgarian duo, the Pop Top Twins, and entering beauty contests. She entered 16 contests and won all 16. One of them named her Miss Bulgaria and allowed her a trip to Great Britain, which opened her eyes to all sorts of possibilities not available at home. "It's so difficult in Bulgaria," she says. "My family and my friends, they don't have food, they don't have clothes. Things are changing now, and the road they take is probably a good road, but it's going to take them a long time. I'm twenty-two years old and I don't want to see what they're going through. I really miss my parents and friends, but once you're outside, you don't want to go back." Being Miss Bulgaria enabled Sonia to wangle permission to go to Norway. There she received career and diplomatic advice from Paul Stanley, of (text concluded on page 148) Balkan Beauty (continued from page 74) the rock group Kiss. Stanley, always one to give refugees advice, particularly those who win beauty contests, was the first star from the West Sonia had ever met. "I like him. He's really nice," she says. "He said, 'You must go for it.' I didn't speak English very good at the time, but he had the patience to talk to me. He told me I must go to a country where everybody speaks English. So I went to England."
While they waited for Milchuk to show, Carnes leafed through Sports Illustrated, the N.F.L. Preview Issue, and Penner checked out the baseball scores in the Globe. They were parked on Main Street in Hyannis, across from the Copper Kitchen, where Milchuk--so they had been told--liked to have his breakfast. It was a quarter to seven of a bitter September morning, a few raindrops spitting down and ridges of leaden cloud shouldering in off the harbor. Carnes, pinch-faced and wiry, with sprays of straw-colored hair sticking out from beneath his Red Sox cap, betrayed no sign of anxiety. But Penner, who had never done this sort ofwork before, shifted restlessly about, flexing his neck muscles, reshaping the folds of his newspaper and glancing this way and that.
In July, when the baseball season heats up along with the weather, power lunches move to the ball parks and dress codes become as relaxed as hot dogs and beer. No, we're not talking about ratty pullovers from your bottom drawer. This season's line-up of sport shirts is as hot as a line drive off Cal Ripken, Jr.'s, bat. To prove that point, we headed south to Twin Lakes Park in Sarasota, Florida, and west to Compadre Stadium in Chandler, Arizona, where two of baseball's top father--son team-ups, the Ripkens and the Alomars, took a break from spring training to switch from their uniforms into some of the newest styles. The sport shirts we chose for them can be dressed up or down, depending upon the occasion. Fabrics such as washed silk, rayon and cotton give the shirts a soft, supple feeling and keep their cool when the temperatures start to climb. And the latest colors and patterns include both solids and abstracts. Earthy tones such as rust and mustard are major-league choices, along with Sixties-inspired prints. For a great going-out-to-dinner look, wear one with pleated trousers, a tie and a sports coat. Or, if you're just hanging loose, wear the same shirt with jeans, a wide belt and a pair of sporty shoes. Either way, you'll be a fashion hit in clothes that aren't priced out of the park.
Playboy's History of Jazz and Rock, Part Three: Some Like it Hot
New York City, 1925. Bix Beiderbecke had just hit town. Fellow cornettist Red Nichols invited Beiderbecke to room with him at the Pasadena Hotel near Columbus Circle. Beiderbecke moved in and together they rented a piano.
"I am so proud to be an American," says star-spangled blonde Wendy Kaye. And why not? The daughter of a U.S. Navy flier, the very first girl born at a spanking-new naval hospital in Memphis 19 years ago, Wendy celebrated her first Independence Day when she was 30 days old. It'sstill her favorite holiday. How star-spangled is she? Many patriots love the Fourth of July; Miss July takes her love of the red, white and blue a giant step further. "I do something specialon the fourth of every month." She and her boyfriend celebrate their first date, the anniversary of their interdependence, on Independence Day. Wendy, who spent much of last winter in front of the TV in her apartment in Santa Barbara, California, chewed her glistening fingernails as she worried over news reports from the Persian Gulf. When victory came, she shot out of her chair like a Roman candle. "I do want to travel, to see how other cultures live," she says, "but one thing about me is never going to change. First and foremost, I'll always be an American." This month, we're proud to fulfill an all-American girl's dream by making Wendy Kaye Miss July 1991. "July. That's perfect. I love it," she says. If you're in Santa Barbara, watch for a car with streamers and sparklers. That'll be Wendy.
They always get it right in the movies: When disaster strikes, it strikes in slow motion. The bullet slams into the hero's shoulder and he turns with balletic grace. Or, when the floor gives way beneath him, it's as if he is being released by the carefully unfolding hands of God.
Sure, Chrysler is in a slump and industry insiders are speculating that Lee Iacocca may soon be driving off into the sunset. But before you wave goodbye, remember that it was largely his willingness to take a risk on the LeBaron convertible in 1982 that sparked an American ragtop renaissance. For decades, the convertible was considered the ultimate driving machine, but beginning in the late Sixties, the thrill of top-down motoring took a back seat to growing concerns over automobile safety. By 1978, when Playboy published Last of the Ragtops, MG, Fiat, Triumph, Volkswagen, Mercedes-Benz, Alfa Romeo and a few others were "the plucky remnants of a gallant, top-down band." Today, there are about 40 makes and models of convertibles on the market, with more on the way--including Dodge's Cobra-like ten-cylinder Viper. Once again, Iacocca is taking a risk. And now that cars are safer than ever, outdoor fun is back, as the pictures on these pages attest. Turn to page 169, for Playboy's Guide to Going Topless. The good times are rolling again.
Sitting Across from him in the chambers he still has at the Supreme Court, it is difficult at first to realize that this short, decidedly informal man with so playful a wit was the most powerful and influential Supreme Court Justice in the history of the nation.
Remember the seventh grade? Puberty time. You were five feet tall and every girl in the world was gargantuan. It was scary until the night of the school dance, when, slow dancing for the first time, you found that your chin was at the exact level you'd have chosen if you yourself had dreamed up gender differences. Today, you're probably taller than most of the women you know, but unless you're Manute Bol, there's still a percentage of the female population that canoutrebound you. Here are ten tall beauties to remind you of the night you discovered that womenare worth looking up to. The shortest is UCLA volleyballer Jennifer McCloskey. She stands 5'11". From there, it's six inches to the indiscreet charm of Dallas' 6'5" Heidi Olsen (seen here and on the facing page, on which she barely fits), who once pumped up Lady Tigers fans as a hoopsstar at LSU. You didn't see Heidi in our Girls of the S.E.C. pictorial a few years back, because, she says, "I didn't want to lose my basketball scholarship." Now the biggest beauty inher Big D real-estate office, she had nothing to lose but her inhibitions when we came calling again, "and everything to gain." By now, Heidi has gained millions of admirers, as well as drawn a few whistles, as the center of our attention. She's the tip-off to our vertiginous view of Playboy Heights--the sexiest skyline you are likely to see this month. On these 12 pages, you'll meet some of the most potentially intimidating women on earth. But don't worry. Rememberthe seventh-grade dance. Smile, take one step back and enjoy the view.
Eric Bogosian blazes his own trail. On arriving in New York City in 1976 with a newly minted theater-arts degree, he skipped the preliminaries ("I'm not an audition kind of guy") and went straight to the starving-actor role ("To try to live for a week on a bag of rice and a head of cabbage is an interesting idea"). He became a gofer for a theater group, took over a dance troupe and hung out in the liberated precincts of downtown Manhattan, where he brewed up a solo-performance style from his considerable native anger and the prevailing local Zeitgeist. "Everything had gotten so wishy-washy during the Seventies," says Bogosian, "so low-key and mellow. You wanted to come out and scream. Just smash things."
Whether you're hanging ten in 40-foot waves or exploring the floor of the ocean, a reliable watch can be your most trusted companion. But we're not talking about just any old waterproof ticker. Surf watches, made of sturdy materials such as stainless steel, urethane and fiberglass, are built specifically to withstand the pressures of the deep. Aside from tracking the duration of your activities, many feature calendar, alarm, compass and stop-watch functions. Hightech models can even chart wind velocity, store data from previous plunges and count waves and laps so you don't have to. And they look as great on land as they do under the sea, with some so colorful they give the fish a run for their money. Sorry, Charley!