Is The New Playboy In?

The passing of Mr Hefner has sparked a memory of my dear little brother. So I'm sharing. Cullen and I were roommates in a little duplex at the corner of State and Dakota Avenues. At the time I worked for the State Newspaper Association, and Cullen had just graduated from high school and was attending South Dakota State University. Since it was our hometown, a number of his high school buddies were also freshman at SDSU, most of them living in dorm rooms but a few still at home with their parents. The guys got together and pitched in to pay for a subscription to Playboy magazine. And given their various living situations, thought it best to have it delivered to Cullen. In the dormitories, the mailboxes were quite small, and packages and periodicals were left on a shelf. I think for the most part, dorm occupants were decent about leaving packages to those they were addressed to. But a naughty magazine was almost guaranteed to disappear in short order. And if you were an eighteen year old guy still living with his parents? Please! A nudie magazine, yeah, the interviews and articles notwithstanding, was not likely to show up without some grilling from the parental units. This was odd, I thought, since Mom was still living with us until around November that first year. But she was the cool mom, I guess, and I was just an older sister. Not really an adult even though I was conveniently old enough to procure booze for them, should I choose to contribute to their delinquency. All I remember was at some point each month the usually anonymous phone calls would commence asking if the new issue was in. I'd tell them to find my brother and ask him before summarily hanging up. Occasionally there would be the brave soul at the door with a similar query. If he had the balls to ask in person, and the new Playboy had indeed arrived, I would hand it over. I have a number of stories about incidents from those two years, but this is probably my favorite. This is also one of those times where I would love to call him up so we could both have a good laugh. Even though that's not possible, I find myself grateful that this memory gives over to laughter and not tears. It's a good place to be.