Bunny business

G. GEORGE OSTROM / For the Hungry Horse News

Eighty four year old Hugh Hefner is scrambling to keep control of his multimillion dollar "Girlie Empire." Those recent news reports got me pondering how things were when my generation of teenagers were wondering about the "differences' between girls and boys.

Soon after coming out of the hills to begin high school in 1942, some of the "city" boys taught me how to shoot pool. A bonus at Norm's was in the magazine rack. "Sunshine and Health," a miserable little nudist publication, was our main source for giggling glimpses of female forms. Unfortunately, the blurry photos had all no-nos scratched out by the publisher's pen. One other source of visual sex information was National Geographic. Though pictures were much clearer than "Sunshine and Health's", South Sea Island ladies were not a regular feature and … just showed top parts.

The world changed forever in 1953 when the first "Playboy" was published. Against a flood of public criticism and outcry, female forms were revealed with faint modesty; however as demand and circulation grew, more details were shown until very little was secret anymore. Somewhere in there, "Sunshine and Health" faded to a nostalgic memory.

Hefner's empire hit its zenith in the '60s and '70s with related spin offs, including establishment of plush Playboy Clubs across the world. My only visit to one came about through fortuitous circumstances. I wrote about it then, but a recall might bring out details not revealed in 1970.

Cal Jorgenson and I were representing Bell Manufacturing at a huge RV marketing show in Los Angeles' Dodger Stadium. Our workday ended badly when our pickup had a dead battery and took time for a jump. It was growing dark as we headed for our hotel at Universal Studios. Got lost and seemingly drove forever. Both of us were starving and urgently needed a pit stop when I found a freeway exit with a turnoff into a commercial parking lot. Drove in to restudy our map but … the night was ablaze with neon signs proclaiming, "The Los Angeles Playboy Club."

"Cal," I said. "They must have a restroom in there."

The gentlemen bouncers wore tuxedos and asked to see our "Gold Membership Card." Told 'em we would join so they pointed to a Bunny behind a desk. She was showing more than I ever saw in Sunshine and Health, but there was no time for ogling. She explained we didn't need two cards because if I bought one my friend could be a guest. Said, "They are fifty dollars." When ya gotta go, ya gotta go, so I replied, … "It's a deal."

While another Bunny took my app, permission was given for "my guest" to immediately use the men's room … "Third floor on the left." Cal zoomed up the stairs. Freshening up in the bathroom we wondered why each private stall was lined with fur and had gold gilded wall phones.

Bell Manufacturing had recently been sold to a conglomerate and I told Cal I had put the membership on our corporate expense account so, "We might as well eat here too." Cal thought that was a good idea, providing we didn't choke on our steaks while being served by beautiful "Bunny Girls' with those big … ears.

That night is history now. It was easy getting our "travel expenses' OK'd, but it was more complicated back home explaining that "Gold Card" to the first wife Iris. She said, "It seems like you guys could have found some nice little restaurant." Told her Cal and I had been looking for hours and decided "a higher power had taken over when we became desperate."

Iris accompanied me on my next business trip to Los Angeles and wondered if I wanted to visit the Playboy Club again. Told her, "Why should we do that, when you're sexier than any Bunny there?"

That's how you stay happily married … more than fifty years.

G. George Ostrom is a Kalispell resident and a national award-winning Hungry Horse News columnist.