My fantasies changed with time. His apparently didn’t.

hefnerThe latest issue of Esquire has an article about the current state of Hugh Hefner.

As an aside I pick up Esquire once in a while in the hope that it has once again become ‘good’ rather than fatuous and relentlessly juvenile and seemingly obsessed with the belief that normal men see nothing wrong with paying $285 for a pair of shoes.

My obsessive ‘loyalty’ is misguided and each time I buy one I tell myself, OK, that’s the last time I’m doing that with an impulse that is similar to that of the unrepentant alcoholic who believes he won’t get drunk again when he takes the plug off the jug.

But, I confess the Hefner article was kind of interesting in a pathetic way.

the-first-playboy-magazinePathetic not so much because he’s about 250-years-old and newly married to a pneumatic 25-year-old fluff-bunny who professes to be in love with him. I bet her folks are happy and only praying that she signed a really generous prenup.

I’m don’t mean to be unkind about the geezer we all get there and if we (meaning myself) are the man we profess to be we should still get a tickle from a pneumatic 25-year-old (or 45-year-old) if only in fantasy realm. Keeps the arteries open, damn it.

But, after reading the article about Hef, only two descriptive adjectives about the man sprang to mind: boring and kind of pathetic. Pathetic not because he still gets worked up by nubile child-blondes with big boobies, but pathetic because he believes his fantasy realm is still somehow desirable.

The boring part was contained in the recounting of his days. Mine are more interesting despite the fact I don’t live in a mansion in which I am fawned upon by assorted acolytes of about the same vintage or the aforementioned pneumatic vixens who have probably (I’m going out on a limb here in my assumptions) not ever read anything longer than a menu without moving their lips.

My bias is that I rather fancy women with brains, with upper torsal bounty being of secondary importance.

Playboy-BunnyBut, and it’s an important ‘but’, when I first happened upon Hef’s brainchild Playboy Mag when I was in my teens, all the stuff that seems to still enrapture him did it for me. “Woo-hoo, Charlie, lookit da tits on that one!” I mean, prior to that my only source of sexual enchantment had been the lingerie ads in the Sear’s catalogue.

And Playboy was cool in other realms, too. It spotlighted the best in music; had some truly riveting interviews and also feature writers like Jean Shepherd (A Christmas Story et al) and Alex Hailey (of Roots) and many others. It also boasted the best cartoons next to the New Yorker.

And, there were always the ‘girls’. Yes, we didn’t pick up PB in the day just for the articles. And we fawned over them.

And continued to do so until we got ‘real’ girls in our lives and at that precise time the mag began to lose its charm. Furthermore those of us who had gained a little maturity began to see the musings of Hef himself as kind of pretentious and hugely obsessive-compulsive. In other words we grew up a little bit.

In reading the Esquire article it doesn’t seem that he really has. He still deludes himself that he is leading the good life and it has been all worthwhile, despite the fact the Bunny clubs are long gone and the mag hangs on by a slim thread. I personally haven’t even looked at one in probably two decades.

Oh, and when the day comes, Hef has willed he be encrypted in a sarcophagus right next to the one occupied by Marilyn Monroe, his first centerfold babe

Another adjective comes to mind, sad.


10 responses to “My fantasies changed with time. His apparently didn’t.

  1. Since I was about 12, I’ve had a thing for men 50+ years old. Seriously. Give me a face with character and I melt, so it has only been recently that I have actually been close to the same age as the men I find most attractive. Of course, I’m also now old enough to have my “range” be anywhere between 18 and death, because with my own age has come the wisdom that a charming man is a charming man, regardless of the age of his body.

    Give me the intimacy and connection of reality over a pretty, but vacuous, package any day.

    • Well, Miss BP, speaking as a guy verging on geezerdom I cannot help but be charmed by your comment re older men. I knew there was good reason I liked you so much. I, of course, feel much the same way about women of any age.

  2. You’d think he’d be bored out of his mind. I almost feel sorry for the man. Then again, he’s not really interesting enough to feel sorry for.

    Ooh, I’m mean today 😀

  3. Around $300 for a pair of shoe – chicken feed. A good pair of hand made shoe should set you back $1,000 and worth every penny. See
    As for Mr Playboy, Not sure I care. He may be living the dream he may not be. Only he knows; or not.
    As for old men lusting after young woman – if that’s you’re bag “Dr Who”‘s the place. The Doctor’s new companion Jenna-Louise Coleman is knock out. Christine Keller meets Joanne Whalley meets Angelina!

  4. There is indeed something pathetic about a guy that age with a 25 year old. But then that’s always been the case with rich old men, they can pay for the 25 year old. You on the other hand can’t, thus you’re stuck with a woman who has both brains and charm. Sucks to be “poor” 😉

  5. There’s a lot to say about this. When my parents would leave us to go out, my brother would pull out the giant box of Playboy mags. I was probably 8 or so but I loved the cartoons. They were on a class with the New Yorker. My all-time favorite one-box cartoon was of a guy being held up. The robber said, “Your money or your life!” The victim said, “Take my life. I’m saving my money for college.” I guess I was 8 or so when I read that and I thought it was the funniest thing in the world. I still think it’s funny. I also got a big kick of the Little Annie Fannie strips at the back. Years later when I was 19 or so I dated a fine arts major. His thesis was on the construct of Playboy magazine and he pointed out fascinating things to me that I spent years showing other people. I felt like a professor.
    The last one I bought was in ’88 or ’89 because the pictorial feature was Joan Severance and the interview was maybe Patrick Stewart or someone I really liked at the time. I also loved the party jokes on the back of the fold-out. I guess I could go on and on about the magazine. As for old Hef himself, he was a giant at a certain time. He is responsible for the mindsets of millions. He made a huge impact on the entire American culture during the 60’s and 70’s. But like everything else, everything reaches an end: his influence, his significance. It must have been painful for him. It’s sad that he works (and probably pays) so much to keep up that old persona. He should have reinvented himself about 20 years ago. But he didn’t and now he sits around with his little blondes in his purple silk robes and reminisces. Oh well.

    • I can absolutely add nothing to your well-stated thoughts, my friend. You have captured the essence of the whole thing. At the end of it all I cannot help but find him pathetic as he shuffles off this mortal coil and hasn’t had a new thought or impulse for decades.

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