Site Meter Reflections on Playboy

August 11, 2008

Monday morning autodidact report 5

Do you procrastinate? I do, to an embarrassing degree. Three weeks ago, I “officially” took Spanish-language cinema off my list of studies as I announced I was about to watch Y tu mamá también, my last item of that category. I still haven’t watched the whole thing.

Just this past week, I have had a better excuse than usual for that kind of delay. Wednesday through Friday, I was busy looking for a new place to live. I should have some good news about that to blog soon. In the meantime, I’m still learning to step up to the challenges I’ve set for myself as an autodidact.

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Posted by Brian Sorgatz at 7:30 AM

August 4, 2008

Monday morning autodidact report 4

Lately, the most exciting development in my ambition to learn stuff just for the sake of learning stuff has been my brushing up on the art of driving. It’s not a wonder that I’ve decided to commit to viewing the entire original series of Star Trek. Suddenly operating a motor vehicle again makes me feel warp-capable, as it were.

I’m stumbling my way to a sense of skill in time management. “Management” feels like a misleading term for exactly what I’m learning. I’m learning the pleasure of self-confidence from keeping myself and my environment beautiful with good habits like shaving my face and making my bed every morning. Although this represents a change in my relationship to time and how I act in it, this hardly feels like “management.” It feels almost the opposite: like being seduced by what appropriately timed behavior can do for me, a relinquishment of will instead of an effort of will. If not for the intense distraction and discouragement of America’s un-American public schools, I believe I would have discovered this years earlier. In our hearts, we all know that school sucks!

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Posted by Brian Sorgatz at 10:08 AM

July 31, 2008

I’ve been driving Mom’s car without her permission. Shh!

My closest relatives live in Chico now, but I didn’t grow up there. My little sister discovered it on the family’s behalf when she was admitted to its California State University campus (NSFW: a highly rated party school, incidentally).

“Families aren’t democracies,” said Daddie Dearest, may he rest in peace. If that’s true, I don’t see why the common boundaries of personal ownership apply within them. No democracy, no rule of law!

A few weeks ago, I muscled and guilt-tripped my way into my mother’s guest bedroom here in Chico. At 36, I’m a refugee of my own war against my parents. I have had trouble seeing my rational self-interest in doing grownup stuff like driving and keeping an apartment clean. In the past ten years, I’ve been kicked out of two apartments for failing to take care of them. Soon I’ll find a place to live on the northern California coast somewhere, more on which in a future post. Naturally, I’m allowing Mom’s eagerness to be rid of me push her into managing the logistics of the move, heh heh. I’m too busy with my fun stuff to handle more than the bare minimum.

When I was in my teens, Mom called me “opinionated” and “arrogant” because I didn’t believe as firmly as the cowards around me that misery loves company. I think of my parents as war criminals for forcing me to endure schoolyard bullying, paramilitary gym classes, witless bureaucracy, and brain-numbing homework in the American public school system. By 16, I was mentally whipped and beaten enough to refuse to avail myself of a summer job or a driver’s license out of helplessness and spite. A pattern had set in.

In my mid-twenties, I finally got around to a driver’s license. But I used it only to drive my black Honda Helix motor scooter. After a few years, one injury, and many humiliating incidents of panic and cowardice on the road, I sold the damn thing. I’ve been wheelless since about 2000. To make a long story short, Mom has refused me permission to drive her Jeep Grand Cherokee because of my lack of recent experience. Ah, but not everyone needs to be a coward just because she is. What can she do, ground me?

Most American schools are run so stupidly and condescendingly (as opposed to what is possible) that they can suck the joy out of learning anything—even literature, science, or driving. My alienation from the automobile has felt like a kind of anorexia. It’s hard to describe the self-doubt, confusion, and guilt that arise from the passionlessness. It’s hard to describe the joy of actually wanting to drive now. Appetite brings purpose to life.

Playboy models know well the soul’s mysterious obligation to go behind parents’ backs. I appreciate the wisdom of their example. Those young ladies are still older than I am.

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Posted by Brian Sorgatz at 8:36 AM

July 28, 2008

Monday morning autodidact report 3

I hoped that my commitments to my study projects would bring a sense of adventure, and I haven’t been disappointed. On Saturday, I was almost suicidal with despair over my seeming inability to step up to the challenge. But yesterday, I found the courage to open up my day planner and browse it leisurely. The experience was just what I needed. By necessity, a person of my pleasure-seeking disposition relies on appetite as his moral compass. When I rediscovered the desire to play with my nerd toys, I felt almost reborn. Hallelujah!

Speaking of hallelujah, I didn’t mention A Course in Miracles a week ago. At Lesson 125 today, I’ve finished a third of the year-long Workbook. When I’m having a hard day, the Jesus of the Course can sound annoyingly chipper about the blissful reunion with God in my future. But I stick with Him, because He has a way of making a lot of sense after all. Hallelujah!

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Posted by Brian Sorgatz at 9:50 AM

July 21, 2008

Monday morning autodidact report 2

I’m not the most self-disciplined guy in the world. But when I move gradually towards better study habits, I call it success. It has been a successful week.

So far, Helen Gurley Brown’s 1962 classic Sex and the Single Girl has been easy for me to understand and appreciate as a man who reads Playboy. Three years after this book, Brown would take the reins of then-ailing Cosmopolitan magazine and turn it into the guidebook for liberated women that Playboy already was for liberated men. Much like Hugh Hefner’s, Brown’s appreciation of the opposite sex is aesthetic and sybaritic but always honorable and trustworthy.

I haven’t made any progress this past week with Sun Tzu’s The Art of War. This book still fascinates me as much as ever, but I’ll need plenty of time to teach myself how to teach myself its contents effectively. Differing types of books, such as Sex and the Single Girl versus The Art of War, will naturally require different approaches by a student.

In a screenplay like Juno or a memoir like Candy Girl: A Year in the Life of an Unlikely Stripper, Diablo Cody makes her distinct voice heard. It’s probably healthy for me, with my Camille Paglia–esque tendency to regard exotic dance with pagan religious piety, to listen to someone like Cody describe it in a more cynical way. It’s good intellectual balance.

A similar quest for intellectual balance has drawn my attention to the Analects of Confucius. Here I find a radically different guide to human relationships than I get from the libertarian individualism of Playboy and Reason magazines. But in their most sophisticated forms, various philosophical systems have a funny way of coming to resemble each other in practical application. I shouldn’t be surprised if Confucianism turns out to be fairly “libertarian” in optimal practice. So far, as a Westerner dipping my feet into another civilization’s manner of thinking, I’ve been taking my time with the introductory notes by translator Arthur Waley.

After I get around to watching Y tu mamá también, I’ll retire Spanish-language cinema as a study category. But with Netflix and theatergoing, I’ll continue to keep up with cinema in general. A few weeks ago, in my blog sidebar, I declared Hollywood my spiritual hometown, and I have no cause to regret it!

Español es una lengua hermosa, y me gusta estudiarla. Quiero tener un vocabulario más grande y saber conjugar todos los verbos.

Good books are fun, but they don’t inspire physical self-confidence the way musical instruments do. On my electronic keyboard, I’ve been doing extensive chord drills and working my way through two pieces: an adagio in D minor by Italian Baroque composer Alessandro Scarlatti, and the classic rock tune “Locomotive Breath” by Jethro Tull. This past week, after a long absence, I got back to studying the Aboriginal Australian wind instrument known as the didgeridoo with help from an instructional CD by Ash Dargan.

With all due modesty, I think I’m starting to kick ass with my self-study projects. (I don’t want any grief about the afternoon timestamp of this post, either. I started composing it in the morning and followed my standard procedure of editing the timestamp to reflect the actual time of publication. So there.)

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Posted by Brian Sorgatz at 12:37 PM

July 14, 2008

Monday morning autodidact report 1

I take pride in letting this new blog ritual be nerdy and boring, if that’s how it comes out.

Oscar Wilde said, “When the gods wish to punish us they answer our prayers.” Now that I’m lippy enough to call myself an autodidact, I have to find out how to be that. I’ve been mortified to learn how intimidated I am by the studies I’ve assigned myself. Because my spirit has rebelled against authoritarian schooling in any form, I’m burdened with the responsibilities of curriculum-setting that I refuse to delegate to others. Uh-oh! What do I do now?

Fortunately, I seem to have had good instincts so far in starting to make it happen. Close to the top of this blog’s sidebar is my public list of “current fields of study.” Having put my reputation at stake, I can’t afford to run away from the challenges. If I weasel out of a difficult project like the Analects of Confucius, for example, I’m afraid I’ll feel like a dork forever. It’s too late to back out now. (For all the obvious reasons, friendship and sex will be somewhat more private than the other study projects.)

Yesterday was a very good day. After a few days of stalling, I went for it. I moved forward with the Analects and a good many of the other study projects, too. A week from today, I’ll be ready to report on specific projects in more detail. But this post has enough paragraphs already, so I’m done for now. A measured laziness can be a virtue for a writer if it encourages brevity.

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Posted by Brian Sorgatz at 10:09 AM

July 8, 2008

Point of style: to italicize or not to italicize Playboy

I take logic, rhetoric, grammar, spelling, punctuation, and typography seriously as a writer, the way serious musicians make so much of the complexities of tonal harmony. There is no such thing as proofreading too slowly when I write this blog—or even a one-sentence email to a friend. It’s pride of craftsmanship, and I can’t help myself. Whether I italicize the word Playboy or not in any given instance here, I always think it through carefully on a few levels.

Generally, I restrict italics to the flagship paper magazine that is released month by month (not newsstand specials or online exclusives). Most other uses, whether official or unofficial, are denied italics (Playboy Enterprises, The Playboy Blog, the Playboy Mansion, Reflections on Playboy). A heartthrob known from newsstand specials (i.e. “Special Editions”) or the Internet but not the monthly magazine is a Playboy model rather than a Playboy model. The general term for both kinds of models goes without italics.

However, I’ve recently broken my own rule for the sake of a joke. I wrote “Playboy online and Playboy ondeadtree” to avoid distraction in the parallelism. You gotta do what you gotta do.

Also, it’s never appropriate to capitalize the b in the middle of Playboy. Hugh Hefner didn’t invent the term when he invented the magazine, so it doesn’t have the etymology to justify spelling it like YouTube, for instance, which is literally a brand new word.

Don’t forget my point about the b, or I’ll find you where you sleep and magic-marker the word DORK on your face. Shame is a powerful weapon.

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Posted by Brian Sorgatz at 11:47 AM

June 1, 2008

Hi, Mom! You do the worrying; I’ll do the partying.

According to a Hindu proverb, it takes a thorn to remove a thorn. I’m finally getting over the “Why did they always tell me I’m wrong?” thing by being told by Someone Else (through A Course in Miracles) that, in a manner of speaking, I’m literally always wrong. Meanwhile, I’m also getting kicked out of my apartment just when I’m preparing to go to the Playboy Mansion for the third time. But God’s grace has provided an elegant solution in the division of labor according to comparative advantage. You do the worrying; I’ll do the partying.

After the party, I’ll need a cheap place to live while I plan necessary changes in my life. It might as well be your guest bedroom, so you should expect me there in mid-June. Because of my criminal record for ill-advised scuffles with cops just a few years ago, I warn you against “teaching me a lesson” with another arrest. California’s “three strikes” law could mean disaster after that. If you have to worry about something, worry about that. You do the worrying; I’ll do the partying.

Don’t try to make me go to rehab; I won’t go, go, go. Although I know that I can’t afford to deny the consequences of my behavior, I categorically refuse to medicalize my behavior in any way. I acknowledge no “disease” of any kind for which I need to take twelve steps or any variation thereof. Besides, I’m already doing superbly with the do-it-yourself spiritual program I’m on. You do the worrying; I’ll do the partying.

You don’t have to believe in Rousseau’s doctrine of the Noble Savage to recognize the tyranny of America’s public schools. When I remember the slavery of homework that you helped bind me to—the unnecessary anxiety, guilt, shame, boredom, and sense of impending failure all the way—I feel no compunction whatsoever farming out my worries to you. You do the worrying; I’ll do the partying.

Nobody’s guilt trip about my “growing up slowly” can discourage me. All I can say in reply is that I’ve been doing the best I know how all along. By logical necessity, this ends the argument. You do the worrying; I’ll do the partying.

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Posted by Brian Sorgatz at 8:13 AM

May 26, 2008

I should have mentioned my girlfriend by now

On May 1, “D.C. Madam” Deborah Jeane Palfrey was driven to suicide for her pragmatism about the relationship between sex, love, and money. When I go back to my sex surrogate therapist in July*, I’ll pretend to shove my middle fingers through the eye sockets of those disgusting federal bureaucrats as I bang my sweetie here in California. This Memorial Day, the pledge is the least I can do in memory of one of the sexual revolution’s bravest generals. God bless her refusal to apologize for harmless entrepreneurship.

I don’t care to mention my therapist’s name, or even make up a fake one for her. I reserve the right to be shy sometimes—occasionally with a vengeance. But I’ll say that I started seeing her in 2005 and had to give it up after a few months because of the sudden financial crisis of having to buy a new Macintosh. My antique 2000 iMac had finally been destroyed by the cockroaches. While I still had to go to an Internet café to publish it, I started Reflections on Playboy and became obsessed with it.

From my therapist, I get training in physical intimacy. Meanwhile, I’m required to make regular visits to a talk therapist, somebody to monitor the relationship as a third party. She and I talk but do not have intimacy. It’s been good for me, I have no regrets, and I look forward to finishing what I started.

Besides, the vice cops who waged psychological warfare on Palfrey are the ones to blame for my need to have that therapy in the first place. If they had only spent their time giving me hand jobs instead of menacing her, everything would have been better in every way. When will people start noticing that I always know best?

*Update, July 3, 2008, 7:24 p.m.: Unfortunately, it’s not happening this month. Maybe next month.

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Posted by Brian Sorgatz at 4:57 PM

April 12, 2008

I have a MySpace and a Facebook, by the way

Please crank up your computer’s audio before visiting my MySpace. Since I first added music to the page the other day, I’ve been intending the musical selections to complement my status messages.

http://www.myspace.com/reflectionsonplayboy

If you enjoy my work here, I invite you to become a friend at either of these sites.

http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=687238824

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Posted by Brian Sorgatz at 7:18 PM

December 5, 2007

Please browse my blog categories

Comparative religion is fun. That discipline tells me that I have Ganesha, beloved Hindu Lord of Categories, to thank for helping me finish the job of adding an index of categories to my blog’s sidebar today.

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Posted by Brian Sorgatz at 5:27 PM

October 17, 2007

Reflections on Playboy turns two today

By October 2005, I had already had some experience with blogging, as a writer as well as a reader. My most ambitious blog project had been something called The Anti-Puritan (now defunct). For years, I had been telling myself of my ambition to write a book about Playboy. But I suddenly felt ready to commit myself to blogging it instead. Finally, my thoughts and ideas had been brewing enough to be ready for public presentation. With a blog instead of a book, I could attract an audience a few paragraphs at a time. I could have the satisfaction of a cheering crowd without having to compose, organize, and edit hundreds of pages first. My 2000 iMac had broken down, so I had no Internet connection at home. I had to write the first few posts on paper and take daily trips to an Internet café or university library to publish them.

If you’re reading these words, you’ve probably been part of my audience. Many heartfelt thanks. After all, it’s sexist to let beautiful women monopolize the fun of attracting attention to themselves.

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Posted by Brian Sorgatz at 10:17 AM

May 24, 2007

Hope for all women everywhere: Bunnies can be upstaged


Thanks to SiteMeter, I know that a woman in Belgium recently stumbled on a guest essay here by Googling insecure when my husband looks at other women (in English, without quotation marks). She might take heart from the miracle of May 14, when a troupe of fire dancers invaded a benefit party for the Marijuana Policy Project at the Playboy Mansion and upstaged the Playmates on their home turf. It can be done!


The number of millihelens a beautiful woman radiates is measurable by my dorkiness and spazziness in her presence.* I stood bravely in the front row of the audience with no regard for what could happen if they lost control of their flaming toys, thinking only of my duty as a scholar of the seductive power of the human female. Nor did I consider the dangers of looking like a desperate horn dog at an inopportune time. It was totally worth the risk to get close enough to notice the sexy bruise on one dancer’s thigh.


Comedian Joe Rogan served as our master of ceremonies. MPP executive director Rob Kampia presented an award to Bill Maher, who couldn’t be found at the party before or after that. DJ Pooh spun records, and Blues Traveler performed live. I followed a friend’s advice and got my picture taken with more Playmates than last year: this time around, with Julie McCullough, Deanna Brooks, Tiffany Taylor, Stacy Fuson, Miriam Gonzalez, Laurie Fetter, Amanda Paige, Christine Smith, Scarlett Keegan, Cassandra Lynn, and Alison Waite. Since I’m not willing to show my face on this blog, you’ll have to email me through the link on my Blogger profile page to see those photos. Off camera, I coaxed a kiss on my left cheek from Laurie Fetter and a kiss on my right from Deanna Brooks. It got even better when Brooks let me return the favor. Sincere apologies to Amanda Paige for pulling her hair while taking my left arm off of her shoulder.

Sadly, I missed my photo ops with a few of the Playmates there, including August 2004’s Pilar Lastra. But I can take pride in this candid, unauthorized, impulsive shot of her cottontailed derrière:


I wonder how she got that sawdust on her thigh. A better photographer would have patted it off before shooting.

Another blogger describes his experience at the same party—with photos—here.

*Inversely proportional to the square of the distance between the two bodies, of course.

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Posted by Brian Sorgatz at 7:36 PM

May 21, 2007

Honorable mention by Andrew Sullivan can really spike your traffic

I know, because it started happening to me three hours ago, when he recommended my post about a cop’s embarrassing overdose on marijuana he had stolen. This is an exciting moment in the history of my blog.

On another subject, I’ll soon have a report on my second visit to the Playboy Mansion, which I took last week. Read about my first here.

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Posted by Brian Sorgatz at 12:37 PM

April 6, 2007

For my upcoming 35th birthday, a relaxed publishing schedule

The big day is April 23, but the partial blogging hiatus starts now and may continue for another month after that date. I want to emphasize some other areas of my life besides this blog for a little while. Tonight, my stream of consciousness runs quickly from one Playboy-related April birthday to another:

Hugh Hefner turns 81 on April 9. Congratulations and best wishes in advance.

“This is a good birthday present for Playboy,” said Erwin Arnada, speaking of an Indonesian court’s decision to throw out charges of indecency against that country’s year-old version of the magazine, which Arnada edits. (Hat tip.) I’m happy to see Islamic fundamentalism lose some of its coercive power over the people of Indonesia—for all the same reasons I like to see Christian fundamentalism lose power in my country. Even without nudity, Indonesian Playboy symbolizes more freedom and pleasure than some wish to allow. Personally, I think God appreciates those who lighten up and mind their own business.

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Posted by Brian Sorgatz at 10:39 PM

February 26, 2007

I dare the federal narcpigs to bust me

I call some, not all, police officers pigs in the same spirit that some doctors are quacks and some lawyers are shysters. Hell, more and more cops themselves admit the piggishness of prohibition.

I vaporize marijuana every day for psychiatric reasons under a doctor’s recommendation. My home state has no problem with this, but my nation’s government does. How safe am I? Technically, I may not even believe in psychiatric diagnoses. Am I acting in bad faith? Cannabis helps me relax and handle a day’s responsibilities, and I’m using inconsistencies in the drug laws to my harmless advantage.

Hey, fellas. I’ve just put my real name and city in the sidebar for you. But don’t forget about my connections to Playboy Enterprises and northern California’s marijuana-activist community. They might make a stink. (Since I’ve got nothing to hide by mentioning it, I’ll point out my letter on page 44 of the March issue of Playboy, now on newsstands.)

The subject of my letter:
The Playboy Forum smears a libertarian as a racist

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Posted by Brian Sorgatz at 10:36 AM

October 17, 2006

Happy birthday, Reflections on Playboy

One year ago today, I started this blog. It’s been a very good year for me. I’ve made friends. I’ve been thrilled to attend a party at the Playboy Mansion. I’ve tried out for Jeopardy! (and I’m still waiting to hear back). I’ve increased my skill and self-confidence in written debate.

But I’m a little tired now, so I’m celebrating the milestone with a hiatus of a week or so. During that time, I would still enjoy dialogue with my readers. If you’ve never left a comment here, please consider de-lurking now. If you would rather email me, use the link on my Blogger profile page.

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Posted by Brian Sorgatz at 5:26 PM

October 10, 2006

100 posts, 100 leers

I celebrate the publication of this, the 100th permanent post at Reflections on Playboy, by placing an earlier post, “Let’s do the Wilde thing,” in Battle 6 of the Philosophy Blog War. To win, I need your vote. Thanks in advance.

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Posted by Brian Sorgatz at 8:46 AM

July 11, 2006

Like my new look?

After writing this blog for so many months, I’ve finally done justice to its main subject by providing suitable visual appeal. Click here to see what my blog looked like until now. Those green and yellow dots don’t say Playboy at all, do they? I knew that LunaStone would design a beautiful custom template for me. When a vision of a girl with nothing but two books to guard her modesty came to me, LunaStone’s friend Irma gave that vision form. Many thanks, ladies.

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Posted by Brian Sorgatz at 11:39 AM

June 17, 2006

Never was a job interview more fun

I had a scare on my way to the Jeopardy! audition Tuesday morning. A power failure in the transbay tube that carries BART trains across the bay into San Francisco made me a half hour later getting to the Palace Hotel than would otherwise have been the case. Fortunately, I had gotten up at 3:30 to make sure I wouldn’t be late. I still had time for a leisurely breakfast at the hotel’s restaurant before the audition started at 9:30.

Recently, the people at Jeopardy! have striven to make the audition entertaining enough to justify the hundreds of miles many aspiring contestants travel for it. They’ve hired lively people to guide us through the process with banter and jokes, to help us relax and have fun with it. Looking around the small conference room, I think I counted exactly 20 people, including myself, trying out. After giving some tips on how to play the game effectively and showing us an introductory video, they had us take a written, timed, 50-question trivia test, the same kind of test we had all taken online to qualify for the audition. (In this particular instance, we were not expected to answer in the form of a question.) They urged us not to drop any hints anywhere about answers to the test, because they’ll use the same test throughout the audition season. Naturally, I intend to honor this request. Almost everyone reading my words is a potential competitor for a small number of contestant spots. So fuggeddaboudit.

After the written test, they had us stand at the front of the room three at a time to play mock Jeopardy! with actual signaling devices at our thumbs. For this portion of the tryout, they didn’t much care about the accuracy of our responses to the clues. They were coaching us on proper energy, timing, and attitude—and sizing us up on how we provided these things. We had to project our voices, quickly and boldly select a category and dollar amount when it was our turn, wait for the appropriate time to click the button and then click it repeatedly. After a few minutes of game practice, each group of three was asked to share interesting anecdotes about themselves, as every player does on the show. I told them about my blog, my trip to the Playboy Mansion, and my unfortunate choice to use the bathroom while Hef was making his appearance there. We were all told to clap when it was somebody else’s turn to stand up or sit down, and so we all did. Since it was, after all, a kind of job interview, we all wanted to show we could be team players.

It was over in about two hours. I thought Glen (sp?), the man seated next to me during the audition, was pretty cool, so I gave him a business card for my blog. He politely told me that, being gay, he didn’t think he’d be interested in it. But I did my best to describe my blog as philosophical reading of a kind that anyone, regardless of sex or sexual orientation, might enjoy. Am I a self-promoter, or what?

They never tell us how we did, but I have a pretty good feeling about it. If I’ve made it to the “contestant pool,” then I may or may not receive a phone call within the next year inviting me to the studio to play. Only time will tell.

A related earlier post:
I’ll try for Jeopardy!, baby, oo-oo-oo-oo

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Posted by Brian Sorgatz at 5:39 PM

May 21, 2006

Say uncle, because now I am one

Shortly after midnight, my sister gave birth, through cesarean section, to a healthy baby boy, Noah. How about that?

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Posted by Brian Sorgatz at 9:16 AM

May 2, 2006

I’ll try for Jeopardy!, baby, oo-oo-oo-oo

—as “Weird Al” Yankovic might have sung.

I have a knack for trivia games. Two days before the party at the Mansion, I tried out for Jeopardy! through an online test. I did well enough to qualify for an audition on the morning of June 13 in San Francisco. If I pass the audition, I’ll be in the pool of possible contestants for a year. Wish me luck.

A related subsequent post:
Never was a job interview more fun

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Posted by Brian Sorgatz at 1:39 PM

April 23, 2006

Happy birthday to me

I am 34 years old today—although I’m told I look younger. Having April 23 as a birthday gives me a lot to live up to. It’s traditionally considered William Shakespeare’s birthday. Shakespeare and Miguel de Cervantes, author of Don Quixote, both died on this date in 1616. Today is the feast of Saint George. With all those associations, I’d better be a talented writer and a chivalrous gentleman.

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Posted by Brian Sorgatz at 9:31 AM

April 13, 2006

Milestone: I’m a “Pick of the Orchard” at Media Orchard

Media Orchard, the blog of the public-relations firm Idea Grove, has selected my last post as part of its Pick of the Orchard for April 10. My link appears just above the link to an essay by Andrew Sullivan, one of the biggest names in the blogosphere. It’s quite an honor.

According to itself, Media Orchard “attempts to cultivate fresh thinking about the media, marketing and public relations in today’s ‘spin eat spin’ world.” I’m thrilled that somebody sees my work as an example of fresh thinking.

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Posted by Brian Sorgatz at 8:32 AM

April 6, 2006

“They do move in herds.”

At about 8 p.m. on Thursday, March 30, I was in a chartered shuttle bus traveling from one of the parking lots at UCLA to the residence at 10236 Charing Cross Road. We twisted and turned through the narrow, dark, tree-lined roads of the exclusive neighborhood for a few minutes. Then there was a gap between the trees through which I saw the distinctly Tudor architecture of a certain rooftop. I gasped in amazement. It was the Playboy Mansion.

We, the guests of a benefit party for the Marijuana Policy Project, stepped off the bus and were led through a doorway in an open-air wall on the Mansion grounds. On the other side was the swimming pool area, where a bar and a small stage for music and comedy had been set up. On each side of a very short staircase descending towards the pool stood a row of three or four gorgeous young women in black dresses. As each of us passed, they would say, “Welcome to the Playboy Mansion.” I studied their faces for a few seconds and, sure enough, I recognized them from their centerfolds. Playmates!

Finally seeing these icons in person was something like getting to see the dinosaurs for the first time in Jurassic Park (the friendly herbivores, mind you, not the predators). As a paleontologist catching his first glimpse of living dinosaurs, Sam Neill says, “They’re moving in herds. They do move in herds.” The moment held something of that Spielbergian sense of wonder for me.

I was fortunate enough to spend several minutes in conversation with Miss May 1998, Deanna Brooks, and later on with Miss November 2002, Serria Tawan. Brooks and I discussed the philosophical underpinnings of the sexual revolution. A self-described feminist, she objected to the frequent claim that her posing for Playboy was in any way anti-feminist. I’ve said essentially the same thing here. But we politely disagreed on whether people’s anxiety and awkwardness about sexuality are learned through social conditioning or at least partly inborn. I argue the latter.

During my chat with Tawan, a tall, leggy, cute black woman, I was reminded of the mixed blessings of being a sex symbol. A male party guest pinched her backside as he walked by. (I wouldn’t have known it had happened if she hadn’t told me.) Some men behave that way towards Playmates, she explained, because “they think we’re whores.” Playboy shows respect for women, but some guys don’t get the message. Don’t feel too sorry for Tawan, however; she can reportedly kick ass [not work-safe] when she needs to.

Tawan and I were soon joined by Libertarian (yay!) political candidate Edward Teyssier. “Your mission,” he told me, “is to find a libertarian Playmate,” since an endorsement of libertarianism by a Playmate would help the movement. If, by chance, any actual or aspiring Playboy models are reading this, I invite them to take this very short political quiz. They may be libertarian without knowing it.

Playmates at the party included Cassandra Lynn (Miss February 2006), Christine Smith (December 2005), Julie Cialini (1995 Playmate of the Year), Scarlett Keegan (September 2004), Jillian Grace (March 2005), Athena Lundberg (January 2006), Tina Jordan (March 2002), and Marketa Janska (July 2003). I think I probably saw Pilar Lastra (August 2004) and Julie McCullough (February 1986). (Several of the female guests, I might add, looked good enough to be Playmates.) Adam Carolla showed up. My fellow stoners might have recognized cultivation expert Ed Rosenthal, who wore a wizard costume with images of cannabis leaves sewn on it. Tommy Chong dropped by for a while, but, regrettably, I didn’t see him there. Worse yet, I didn’t see Hugh Hefner, even though he’s in one of the photos on the MPP page on the event. So near and yet so far! When I think of it, this makes my memory of the event somewhat bittersweet.

Party guests were not allowed inside the Mansion itself, but we had access to most of the grounds, through which the Playmates led tours. We saw the pens housing many animals, including birds, monkeys, and rabbits. We could play billiards, pinball, and video games for free in the game room. At one point, I wandered into a guest bedroom with mirrors covering two walls and the ceiling (wink). For the wild party capital of the world, though, much of the property has a surprising air of tranquility. When I wanted a break from the party, I could easily find peace and quiet in a garden path. Playboy often impresses me with this kind of balance of yin and yang.

Four hours was too short a time to spend in such a delightful place. Ask for my snapshots through the email link on my Blogger profile page, and I’ll gladly send them to you.

A related earlier post:
I’m going to Disneyland the Playboy Mansion

A related subsequent post:
Want to go to the Playboy Mansion? Start saving your money.

The same event in 2007:
Hope for all women everywhere: Bunnies can be upstaged

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Posted by Brian Sorgatz at 10:16 PM

March 28, 2006

If you haven’t read it, it’s new to you

A few years ago, NBC encouraged viewing of its summer reruns with the slogan, “If you haven’t seen it, it’s new to you.” In this busy week of preparing for and attending the benefit party at the Playboy Mansion, I have to modify the slogan for my own purposes. If you don’t think they suck, please review my archives while I rent my tuxedo, travel, and hobnob. (Jealous?)

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Posted by Brian Sorgatz at 11:04 AM

February 28, 2006

Belated good news

I’m sorry I didn’t report it sooner, but I sent a letter with a sample of my writing to Hugh Hefner, and he wrote me back:

February 2, 2006

Dear Brian423:

Thanks for the piece on Playboy. I appreciate it.

Sincerely,
Hugh M. Hefner

Ain’t it cool?

Update, November 5, 2007, 4:20 p.m.: It may be ambiguous because of Hefner’s use of “Brian423” in the salutation, but our exchange took place entirely through snail mail, not email.

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Posted by Brian Sorgatz at 10:55 AM

February 18, 2006

I’m going to Disneyland the Playboy Mansion

For real. No kidding. I scraped together enough money for admission to a Mansion benefit party for the Marijuana Policy Project on March 30. The prudish, hypocritical bullies of the Democratic National Committee may not consider it an appropriate venue for a political fund-raiser, but I do.

Especially if I get to go.

Update: I’ve just published my post about the visit.

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Posted by Brian Sorgatz at 11:32 AM

January 28, 2006

This blog is a chick magnet

Well, sort of—in that at least 46% of those who have left comments so far are female. (I’m counting people who comment, not comments themselves.)

Ladies, what is it about this blog that keeps you coming back, hmm?

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Posted by Brian Sorgatz at 1:18 PM