Summer: A Celebration

Summer is the season that always seems to slip away from us. On Memorial Day, it takes over like a warm blur, then it all too abruptly ends with Labor Day. But it doesn't have to be that way. In the next 12 pages, we will reacquaint you with some of the seasonal pleasures that make summer special. After all, it is literally the time when nature wants you to smell the roses. It is the time when your bare feet re-establish their relationship with the good earth. It is also the time when goofing off takes on a philosophical insistence. There's a great big world out there to get hot and sweaty about. Turn the page and you'll see what we mean.

The Girls of Summer

The Ladies. Let us lift our eyeglasses in tribute. They are heavy. They ravish us with their beauty and we do not know that we have been had until it's all over. When the sun shines and the sky is blue and they are out wearing what was once considered underwear, no one is going to talk you out of looking. As a solo act, it is an unfettered vice. It can even be excused as simply watching where you're going.

And yet women still have a lot of trouble with this natural response. Especially the ones you're with. There's nothing they can do about it when they aren't around to see it. But that's not the way it works: You are walking with her, your head sharply pivots, and you suddenly realize she is no longer holding your hand. You've just re-enacted an unconscious, obsessive ritual--in the middle of a sentence, your sexual radar focuses on the target, appreciating from north to south--and your main squeeze has just frosted over into the no zone.

Women can never understand how wonderfully meaningless girl watching is. It's a good thing they can't read our minds and realize exactly how limited we are. The usual thoughts that accompany girl watching are so unbelievably coarse and dumb that no one would dare expose them willingly: Heartbreaking face. Awesome breasts. An ass that redefines "curve." A walk that is both viscous and crisp. Wonder what she'd look like naked, bent over at the end of a diving board....

This all takes place so fast that there is no room for really feeling any of it. It probably represents some kind of genetic instant replay of instinctive tapes. It is the very meaninglessness of it that makes it so enjoyable. It's the junk food of sexuality.

Women, however, are addicted to whole-grain sex. They want to feel at all times a certain intimacy with a man that is akin to original sin. You're Adam, she's Eve and you star in your own little creation story. This feeling sometimes makes men somewhat uncomfortable, but it is usually extremely enjoyable. It is not a necessary condition of survival for men in the way it is for women.

Looking at another woman is perceived as an interruption of concentration. She hasn't lost you; but she's lost--however temporarily--that feeling she keeps of you together. That feeling is more precious to her than anything you can give her. It's where everything begins; and the only way to deal with that is to accept it. You can't defend your right to look at other women. All you can do is be discreet and get away with as much as possible with the least amount of trouble. Girl watching is important. Never cheapen it by using it as a means of asserting your independence or making her feel jealous in order to keep her in line. Watch girls for the pure, sensuous pleasure of it. If you think you can pull it off, explain that to her.

This, of course, will not make her like it any better, but it may make her like you a little better--and that's what counts. You have to learn to give psychic head. Stimulate her with well-chosen thoughts. The best place to choose them is from her head rather than from yours.

After the Nuremberg trials of the feminist era, all anyone wants is peace. The quarrels of those dark and lonely years are finally dissipating. Our bruised sexualities are healing. Some reverence is back in order.

Women, after all, are still the untamed things in our lives. The point is, we savor their company in whatever measure it comes our way--however microscopic the encounter may be. That's what girl watching is really about.

New Wave Beach Party

Oogie Oogie Weekend

It wouldn't really be summer if we didn't check in on Frankie, Annette and the gang down at the eternal California beach party. A lot has happened in the 15 years since their last movie. Today, kids are, um, different. They ride a New Wave. And as writers Craig Schwab and Timothy Beaugereau see it, those people with the purple hair have taken over just about everything.

Summer Pleasures

Howard Hesseman

On Staying Indoors

As often as not, I'm comatose. So it's hard to get to the beach when it's all I can do to crawl from the bedroom to the kitchen. In Los Angeles, one has to drive to the beach. That's not a pleasant experience; and the beach is an experience not unlike the drive. You find yourself in a prone position, baking underneath a blanket of pollution that is as bad as the one you drove through to get there. Anyway, I find it easy to have a lot of fun hanging out at home--given the willing companionship of a wanton goddess. I'm not one to avoid time on the horizontal worktable.

Franklyn Ajaye

On the "Black Tan"

I'm from Los Angeles. I went to a predominantly black high school, mainly because I was predominantly black. Still am. And that's why, for most of my life, I never went to the beach. When my friends would ask me to accompany them to the beach, my answer was always, "No, thank you, I can't swim and I don't tan!" Well, finally, one of my friends invited me to his beach party, securing my presence by letting me know that a girl I liked was going to be there. I dressed in some gym trunks and a tank top. At home that evening, as I was getting ready to take a shower, I noticed that the skin tone from my thighs to my waist was lighter than the rest of my body. I was stunned, but the evidence was conclusive. From that day on, when somebody asked me to accompany him to the beach, my only answer was, "No, thanks, I can't swim."

Erica Jong

Reading in the Hot Tub

My husband [Jonathan Fast] and I read in the hot tub and the sauna. The pages turn yellow and drops of sweat fall on them, but other than that, it's charming. Not many writers are doing good erotic fiction these days, though--the kind that challenges your ideas of what sexy should be. Fanny Hill is the best example, because it's so cheerful. John Donne is sexy, too, and so is Shakespeare.

Fred Willard

Pulling Your Summer Wardrobe Together

Why not wear your street shoes and socks with your bathing suit? You'll be the first one dressed and back on the bus when it's time to leave. But please: no garters. A T-shirt with a funny motto, such as I'm with stupid, is great unless you're usually alone. In that case, you might want to wear a funny hat adorned with miniature beer cans. That lets the girls know that "All stops are out" and "You'll soon be in tandem."

Richard (The Dieter's Guide to Weight Loss During Sex) Smith

The Perfect Summer Woman

The rapture of seeing braless women jogging can inspire me to run another five miles or so, easily. The jogging bra is the worst invention since nuclear weapons. I really hope someone discovers that the potassium content in them is too high.

I like women who eat hearty foods in the summer. Give me a woman who'll eat Spanish rice, beans and sausage on a hot August day and we're talking about somebody I'd buy a Mercedes for. Give me a woman who reeks with garlic in the summer. Also, have you noticed that women who drink beer are sexier than women who don't? If a woman drinks beer in the summer and also jogs without a bra, now we're talking about a Mercedes plus a week in Montreal--all expenses paid by me.

Jan & Dean

Music to Take to the Beach

Theme from Jaws, Smiley Smile by the Beach Boys, Octopus's Garden by the Beatles, Rock Lobster by the B-52s and Love Letters in the Sand by Pat Boone.

The best Beaches to meet girls

West

Newport Beach, California: In the bay, "bay bombing" takes place nearly every weekend. You start at one end of the bay in your motorboat and proceed to stop at every bar along the shore, in search of the perfect gin and tonic and the perfect companion.

Manhattan Beach, California: Long toasted (or derided) as having more stewardesses per cubic foot than any other city in America, Manhattan Beach is for serious beachgoers, those for whom careers, relationships and drugs are secondary pursuits.

Muir Beach, California: If you've heard the Marin legends or have even a nodding acquaintance with Serial, you know what Marin County women are like.

Seaside, Oregon: Considered the Fort Lauderdale of the Northwest; fun is the main--if not only--attraction. In fact, in the Sixties, when riots usually had political motives, the kids of Seaside tore the town apart simply for the fun of it. Those days are gone, but the beach remains the focus of the social whirl.

East

Ocean Beach, Fire Island, New York: Of all the beautiful beaches strung out along this barrier island, Ocean Beach is the one most packed with young, hot singles of both sexes.

Rehoboth Beach, Delaware: Where Washington goes in the summer. It's the place for bureaucrats to meet, eat shrimp and meet other bureaucrats of the opposite sex. Very casual. One Washingtonian says, "It's the kind of place where you toss a football around on the beach. It's like being in college." Lotsa pretty ladies.

Surfside Beach, Nantucket Island, Massachusetts: More lively for young people than its island cousin Martha's Vineyard, Nantucket is overrun with college students in the summer and Surfside is the most popular gathering place.

Central

Oak Street Beach, Chicago, Illinois: This is where the Windy City's young professionals and stylish hustlers hang out. It's a block away from Playboy's international headquarters and when our Photo Department needs a quick model, it takes only a few minutes at Oak Street to find someone.

Gulf Shores, Alabama: "The most beautiful girls in the world are from Alabama, and they all have to have fun someplace. This is where the magnolias meet the oil rigs," our Travel Editor, Stephen Birnbaum, gushes about this strip of 32 miles of gorgeous beach. The two-and-a-half-mile stretch at Gulf State Park is the center of the action.

Why don't we do it in the Road?

Many people have gone down in history as outdoor thrill seekers. Rita and John Jenrette, for example, made a few Capitol steps very famous. And all those folks who went to Woodstock have a lot more to be thankful for than just some good music. In case you have never done it en plein air, you really do owe it to yourself to give it a try. Our suggestions for good places include: in a rowboat in New York's Central Park (safe from muggers); anywhere off California's Route 1 between Big Sur and Monterey; on the island Playa del Amor off Cabo San Lucas, Mexico.

Cautionary thoughts on making it in The Great Outdoors

In some quarters, doing it outdoors is the most sincere form of ardor. We don't want to argue with that. In fact, we concede that some of our favorite almost-out-of-body experiences have occurred without a roof overhead. However, it is not for everyone. Face it; you're vulnerable out there. And so some coldhearted premeditation can't hurt. Beaches, we're sorry to say, are not such a hot idea. A few grains of misplaced sand do not make for a pleasant sound track to your lovemaking. A beach towel can help. Be prepared: Carry insect repellent. Then, if the urge moves you, it won't be necessary to explain your bizarre swatting motions. And stay out of barley fields; the little corns stay in your clothes forever. To be absolutely safe, flash slides of Yosemite on the wall of your bedroom. Of course, part of the fun of outdoor sex is its danger and unpredictability. Just try not to frighten the animals.