THERE'S NO GREATER gift for hackety-hacks than something to do in the wake of the Thanksgiving holiday. That's why General Media, in its wisdom, so smartly scheduled the unveiling of the Penthouse Pet of the Year at the Penthouse Executive Club. That same wisdom is the first sign of new ownership at the troubled publication. The second is how the invitation makes the following declaration: "Dress to impress! No jeans, sneakers, or athleticwear please." There's a fairly unsubtle way of telling Bob Guccione to stay home. What else would the guy have to wear?
At least gold chains aren't banned. Neither are executive mullets. These are just two reminders that it'll take some doing to get the Penthouse empire back on track. New owners Marc Bell and Daniel Staton seem to be aware of that, too. The staff over at Penthouse is getting kind of nervous. This party's a rare opportunity for them to socialize without handing out their resumes.
There remains something endearing about Penthouse. I've walked into the club to disco music that was probably on the soundtrack to Eyes of Laura Mars. Things will later sound more contemporary, but the Executive Club vibe is straight out of a Pan Am boardroom. Though drink specials are being offered by the cocktail waitresses, the bar isn't open this time around—as opposed to the magazine's recent 35th anniversary party. Grown-ups seem to be in charge.
The point is further stressed when the new owners take the stage to make a few announcements. They begin by noting how their wives are the most beautiful women in the room. That's an encouraging sign that these guys haven't just spent a lot of money to get laid. Either that, or they at least know how to get laid later on tonight. They further announce that the company is gearing up for the return of Penthouse Films, and that there will soon be Penthouse Executive Clubs opening internationally. That's good news. This kind of place will seem really sinful over in Iraq.
At least we move into the 80s with emcee Gilbert Gottfried. I'm counting, but have already forgotten how many jokes it took before he got to the one about child molestation. Anyway, I'm just grateful that they brought in a comic who actually tells jokes. I'm also grateful that it wasn't Penthouse columnist Jackie Martling.
Hopefully, the magazine will hang on to Xaviera Hollander, though. They'll also look a lot less desperate if they get rid of the two pages of jokes compiled from the internet. It's also very important that the new owners maintain the proud tradition of Penthouse Letters. Anyone who makes fun of those is simply prejudiced against the aspirational male.
Still, it's already apparent that there's going to be some serious bungling in the wake of the new owners' learning curve. The cover of the January 2005 issue—featuring newly minted Penthouse Pet of the Year Martina Warren—is set for immortality in the Nudie Mag Hall of Shame.
Retailers better keep this one out of the hands of little boys, or the kids will grow up with some weird notions about the female anatomy. Warren's legs have been Photoshopped into a ludicrous angle that suggests her g-spot is directly above her right femur. Also, technology has come far enough that it shouldn't be painfully apparent how much digital work was done to trim the lady's thighs. It's just gentlemanly to get that stuff done right.
Not all is troubled at General Media. Someone was smart enough to hire Rachel Kramer Bussell to edit the popular digest Variations—as I'm reminded at evening's end when I come across the former insurance-office employee. She's filling me in on the first of her three upcoming spanking books ("I'm pretty sure I can corner the spanking market") while we're stuck in the mob waiting out some disaster at the coat check. Fortunately, the angry mob doesn't get violent, most likely because they haven't looked in their gift bags and discovered their leather and brass Penthouse letter openers—guaranteed to look perfectly absurd on your desk, and most likely taken directly from Guccione's old one.
There's plenty of athleticwear on display the next night at the Apollo Theater, where Cam'Ron is the headliner for the Pay-Per-View The Book of Hip Hop Chapter One. This is yet another Roc-A-Fella Records event, so it's not too surprising that this book of hiphop begins with events from 1994. The sole nod to an alternate universe is a short appearance by guest emcee Doug E. Fresh. He's looking resplendent in burgundy velour, and holds up as a human beat box. The big problem is that aging rappers shouldn't join old soul singers in making their audience perform half their old hits.
The show's pretty good, but it would be nice if all the acts for this sort of thing could someday agree that just one rapper will be responsible for making sure that every borough is in the house. At least the usual rapping redundancy makes for a promising economic indicator. According to the cheers from several informal polls, everyone in the audience is making money, and further expect to make mo' money in 2005.
The biggest flub is when the femme emcee finally gets around to introducing Cam'Ron, and mistakenly announces that the release date for the upcoming Purple Haze is "December 21st." That's unforgivable in the wake of a massive postering campaign. Is there anybody in New York City who hasn't been hammered into awareness that Purple Haze drops on December 7? William Buckley could've gotten that release date right.
Cam'Ron's reliably great, but he's tragically underdressed. The guy used to be the ghetto Gorgeous George. Nobody wants to see him wearing a simple sweater, even if it does sport a token naughty "69." I have my doubts about that Cyndi Lauper cover, too. Cam'Ron's still just about my third favorite rapper out there. Unfortunately, he's upstaged by an earlier baffling appearance. That same emcee should've shown a little less enthusiasm when she rushed out to announce, "We got a special surprise—get ready for Beanie Sigel!"
The crowd lets out a huge cheer. This is followed by a huge groan as the video screen comes down. Expect that to be edited out from the Pay-Per-View version. The audience probably believed that Beanie had gotten a furlough from prison for this very important event. Instead, it's a prerecorded appearance made shortly before Beanie began serving his one-year sentence for weapons and drug charges.
He's adorned in your usual State Property-issued prison uniform, and sitting in a prison-cell set that looks left over from some gay porn video. Beanie's certainly looking calm and collected while hovering over a pockmarked young prison guard who looks like he'd have rather been present for the earlier shoot.
This is a good time to note that tonight's event is aligned with L.E.A.D. International. That's a program targeted to provide business seminars for "exemplary high-school juniors from historically underserved and underrepresented communities." Some of those kids are in the audience. At least the presence of a bad role model is balanced by the importance of keeping it real. Now those kids can relate to how Beanie's in one of those communities, too. o
