Better a Witty Fool than a Foolish Wit

Inner Workings of My Twisted Mind.

Mr. Playboy

So my job is pretty awesome.  I hang out with awesome people all day, get paid to eat dinner and drink with them.  I get sent free books, now it’s to the point where the just show up, I don’t even have to ask for them.  And I make up my own hours, for the most part.  Sure, I work a lot and they pay me absolutely nothing, but I get paid in experience and opportunity.  

One of the skills all of us at the bookstore but especially in the publicity department, must possess is the ability to keep cool, to not act like total jackasses around celebrities.  We work in West Hollywood, we have many many celebrity customers and we have many celebrity authors who do book signings with us.   
Personally, I care more about the big authors than the celebrity authors.  I’m more excited about meeting John Updike than I was about meeting Kirk Douglas.  I get more excited about Michael Chabon, Salman Rushdie, or Gore Vidal than about Julie Andrews or Barbara Walters, though judging by the amount of books we sell, I’m alone in these feelings.  
In any case, I don’t get star struck easily.  Though I do know to make the most of it when I’m in the room with a legend.  Our guest on Tuesday transcends both categories.  He transcends all categories until you simply just have to call him a legend.  That would of course be, Mr. Hugh Hefner.  
Now Hef is an interesting figure.  In the seventies he came under fire from the leaders of the women’s movement for exploiting women’s sexuality.  He fought mercilessly for first amendment rights, and perhaps most importantly, he was the first to show off Marilyn Monroe.  
I personally believe that Hef, Erica Jong and Helen Gurley Brown, are responsible for our modern views on sexuality (of course their schools of thought are all undermined by the Victorian values that still hold tight on parts of our collective psyche).  And personally, I don’t buy the view that Playboy Magazine is all about using women as sexual objects only.  In fact, I thank Hugh Hefner for showing the female sexuality is important.  Lest we forget that he was the first to actually publish in a mainstream magazine, sexual images of women.  And Marilyn Monroe was the first to pose for a centerfold in 1953.  Hugh Hefner started publishing boobs in 1953 and we here in America still freak out when a covered nipple shows up at a superbowl half-time show.  
I happen to be of the mind that the problem isn’t Hef or the Zipless Fuck or Sex and the Single Girl, the problem is the small faction of America that can’t handle Janet Jackson’s nipple.  It’s a fucking nipple, we all have them…some of us have three.  Who cares?  And more importantly, why is Janet Jackson showing a covered nipple a scandal, but a stolen election (or two) gets brushed under the rug?  
I think Hugh Hefner should make us think about where are priorities lie.  Maybe we should follow his example.  I’ll start by wearing smoking jackets and carrying a drink around wherever I go.  What’ll you do?
Peace, Love and Playboy,
Julia
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December 5, 2008 - Posted by | Uncategorized

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