The very first Sexie Awards, given for excellence in Sex-Positive Journalism, were presented on Saturday night at Splash on West 17th Street. Playboy swept the three awards in its category, with "The Redclouds Revolution" by John H. Richardson (September 2007) and "The Girlfriend Experience" by Erik Hedegaard (Juky 2007) finishing just behind "Sex in Iran," by Pari Esfandiari and Richard Buskin, which appeared in May 2007. In citing Pari and Richard (pictured here, receiving his award), one judge said, “What an achievement this article is. Serious, attentive reporting and terrific scene-setting, with profound attention to the social and political context of sexual mores. A window onto a world of contradictions most Americans know nothing about. The best piece of sex reporting I have read in some time—and the best reporting on Iran as well.” Another said, “This is amazing journalism . . . the authors don’t just tackle teaching us about sex in another cultural context—they have to get us up to speed on that context at the same time.” Among the other publications represented by the winners were The New York Times, The Miami Herald, and Slate. Congratulations to all those who were recognized, and especially to Miriam Axel-Lute, the determined, persuasive journalist who conceived of the awards, and pulled them off. If you would like to nominate any articles for next year’s awards, visit sexies.org.
By far, the coolest item in the debate media swag bag is a specially produced, limited-edition poster from Hatch Show Print. Look familiar? CNN commissioned the129-year-old letterpress company to design the promotional materials for its Decision ’08 coverage. Only the finest for the “best” political team on television.
From an inauspicious storefront in the touristy section of lower Broadway, Hatch Show cuts and hand-sets metal or wooden blocks, inks them, and cranks them through a press, the same technique they’ve been using for generations. They’re responsible for an entire sect of visual Americana, designing concert posters for virtually everyone from Roy Acuff to B.B. King to the Beastie Boys.
Plus, a kitschy debate poster is a lot less creepy than the smiling Obama print currently hanging across from my bed.
Garth Stein is the author of The Art of Racing in the Rain, the strange and wonderful best-selling novel that’s about what happens to a young family when the mother dies of cancer. We’re pleased that he took the time to answer some questions.
PLAYBOY: You wrote a novel that is, in part at least, about car racing, and yet it’s narrated by a dog. That’s right, a dog. The book’s been on the New York Times Extended Best Seller’s list for weeks. How did you ever sell this idea to a publisher in the first place? STEIN: I wrote the first draft in four months. I sent it to my agent just before Thanksgiving and he called me up and said, “It’s narrated by a dog. I can’t sell a book narrated by a dog. I can’t publish a book narrated by a dog. No one will read a book narrated by a dog. You’re wasting your time. You’re wasting my time. Go write me a book I can sell.” I didn’t respond immediately and he said, “I just want to be straight. You must feel awful right now.” And I said, “No, I don’t feel awful at all.” He said, “You’re a pro.” And I said, “No, because you’re wrong.” I said the only two words that popped into my head at the time: “You’re fired!” If you fire your agent on the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, don’t tell your wife about it until after the weekend. Just a little advice.
PLAYBOY: How did you find a new agent? STEIN: I was at a library fundraiser and I’m sitting at a table with a bunch of writers. I said, “I’m really frustrated. I have this book and I think it’s great but it’s narrated by a dog and I can’t get an agent for it.” And this writer sitting across from me named Layne Maheu said, “Hey, you should talk to my agent. He sold my book and it’s narrated by a crow!” It’s called Song of the Crow and its narrated by a crow that stowed away on Noah’s Ark. And so I called the agent the following Monday. He read the book and said, “I absolutely love this book. I need to represent it.” A couple months later it sold at auction.
The great thing about a school like Belmont is that it can call in favors from some high-profile alums and throw together a show that blows the shingles off country music’s most respected venue. When the Grand Ole Opry returns to the Ryman Auditorium and gorgeous Julie Roberts belts out Patsy Cline within the first 15 minutes, it’s like the stars line up and the honky-tonk jackpot hits all at once. The concert was a welcome-to-Nashville nod to journalists covering the debate, and even the most jaded of media types were humming along with Trisha Yearwood before the hour was over.
Then there was Bob Schieffer.
Yes, the stoically news-chiseled face of CBS, soon-to-be moderator of final presidential debate. Under a 10-gallon hat and a pair of shades. Impishly dancing with a duo of sequin-clad backup dancers and singing a twang-y ditty with his DC-based band Honky Tonk Confidential about becoming a TV anchorman before joining Brad Paisley for a chorus of Paisley’s hit “Alcohol.” Speaking of his Grand Ole Opry debut, our hero was humble: “I may be moderating the third presidential debate, but I’m not feeling near the pressure” of performing here tonight. We’ll be looking for his red cowboy boots behind the desk at Hofstra next week.
With front-and-center balcony tickets (who’d have thought Playboy would be VIP here?), we had the best seat in the house to feel each steel guitar chord reverberate through the weathered church pews—and to tingle with Josh Turner’s deliciously throaty bass pronunciation of the word duh-bate.
For the next presidential debate we tapped former editorial staffer and Nashvillan (? we’ll ask her what they call residents next time) Melissa Wozniak to report to us from Music City about the goings-on there. In her first filing she introduces her town with information that you can’t find on Wikipedia:
Here in Nashville, the buzz leading up to the presidential debate was about as noticeable as the double entendre in a Southern woman’s observation that your outfit is “just darling, hon.” <please try a different lead as “buzz” means “noticeable anticipation” and I think you meant “hollow compliment” instead of double entendre> Sure, we’re excited about the national attention, but we don’t quite get the logic behind it. Town Hall-style debate targeting undecided voters? In the battleground state of Tennessee? At the Baptist school, no less? Bet someone with money pulled some strings.
Gallup’s putting in overtime scouting Town Hall participants, since only 7 percent of area voters are officially undecided; McCain is leading by 19 points statewide, but Nashville and Memphis are decisively blue. Obama loses his appeal in small rural towns like Smyrna, Sparta and Milan (pronounced MY-lan, lest it be confused with its more fashion-forward European counterpart) but even there, you’re more likely to see a peeling, abandoned Bush ’04 sticker on minivan bumpers than a shiny new one for McCain-Palin.
It may be the Buckle of the Bible Belt, but Nashville is also home to the seediest, wildest, most notorious dives in the nation, the honky-tonks that inspired Hank Williams, Merle Haggard and Johnny Cash. It’s a combination that’s spawned a rather unique breed of moral hybrids, the folks who engage in inappropriate acts together in the bathroom at Tootsie’s and then carpool to church the next morning. The city is quickly becoming one of out-of-towners and, as more college graduates shun the high cost of living in New York or Atlanta, 20-somethings. Randomly, it’s home to the nation’s largest Kurdish population. But there’s still a foundation of Middle America in Nashville, a fierce Volunteer moxie that fuels a culture of self-reliance and a low tolerance for politicians who think they can sweet-talk the little man into voting for an agenda of big government and high taxes. Al Gore lost his home state because he didn’t put the effort into campaigning here; John McCain may think Tennessee is safely in his electoral bag, but if he takes us for granted, well, bless his heart (a Southern euphemism for “Fuck you, Yankee”). <how about “For you Yankees this is a Southern euphemism that means “Fuck him.” (Because technically McCain was born in Panama and the first state he lived was Virginia)>
Just do us one small favor, Wolf Blitzer and crew—don’t scout out the toothless guy in greasy Wranglers, the one who’s eager to tell you how the tornado sounded like a freight train, and peg his musings as being representative of the state. That ain’t our style in these parts.
The trailer for Madonna’s directorial debut Filth & Wisdom was released recently with my favorite musician/actor/gypsy Eugene Hutz in the starring role. I got to meet Hutz at our Rock the Rabbit fashion shoot last year, and if the film is half as entertaining as its star, Filth & Wisdom should be pretty damn fun.
Think you’ve heard all you want to hear about last week’s vice-presidential debate? Well, Miss November Grace Kim has some observations. Ah, we knew you’d be interested:
Both Palin and Biden both gave a valiant effort, but Biden came out on top because his answers addressed the topics at hand and they didn't sound as rehearsed as hers. Clearly, they were both adequately prepped-- perhaps a little TOO prepped (and for good reason, I presume, given their past verbal blunders). For me, the moment I knew Biden won the debate was when he shared that briefly genuine, but really sad, moment when he referred to the loss of his own wife and children- I saw sincere emotion, for once, in Biden's eyes- which I think garnered him tremendous brownie points. While Palin couldn't have made a blunder any worse than those she'd already had with Katie Couric, she just fails miserably by pure reputation alone. I also thought it was strange when she brought up her experience early on in the debate, as if she was reading her own inadequate resume; it was as if she was voluntarily bringing up the fact that she's absolutely too inexperienced to make life and death decisions for America, especially with the economic crisis at hand. She is certainly average, and it's a pathetic attempt from the McCain camp to utilize her as a pawn. And while Palin actually didn't make any major mistakes this time around, that couldn’t keep her from widely ridiculed, especially on television. SNL was again hilarious! Tina Fey demonstrates the annoying twitter voice and mannerisms to perfection! Here's the link.
If you dig electro bands like Fischerspooner or Shiny Toy Guns then get ready for the new kids on the block. Innerpartysystem has arrived with an electrically-charged self-titled debut, which is available in stores and online now. The foursome from Pennsylvania recruited a fistful of hot producers who have made music with bands like The Killers, Björk, Arcade Fire and Nine Inch Nails. The result is a pulsating, supersonic ride, loaded with throbbing beats, swirling guitar and synths, and soaring vocals. Throughout the whole album, the band has a keen sense for intense build-ups and catchy choruses. Highlight tracks include “Die Tonight, Live Forever,” the rip-roaring single “Don’t Stop,” and the very Pet Shop Boys-esque “Everyone is the Same.” Sometimes, electronic-rock bands like this seem to focus too much on the beat for the dance-floor crowd and all of the other instruments get drowned in the mix. Innerpartysystem has the perfect balance of guitar, synths, bass and grooves.
Check out their sexy video for “Die Tonight, Live Forever":
Crown Royal invited Assistant Editor Rocky Rakovic to experience auto racing with the Royal treatment. He was given a pit pass, a ride in the pace car and shadowed the race’s Grand Marshal Dan Lowry (that’s him on the left). Next year you can be the Grand Marshal, seriously, enter to win here. Oh yeah, Rocky had never watched a race and doesn’t much like cars. Here are his first four entries: one, two, three, and four. Here's the fifth.
-We head into the inner-oval of the track. I am walking around rubbing elbows with the drivers, pit crews, and other fans. It hits me why this “sport” has the highest number of fans (not sure how this is quantifiable but people seem to agree on it, so I’ll oblige): accessibility. The sport’s stars aren’t hidden in a locker room, surrounded by bodyguards or even tailed by publicists. I could steal the hot dog out of Kasey Kane’s hand. And yet nobody seems to be bothering the stars, in a very understated way they’ll either tell the driver “good luck” or out of respect, leave them alone entirely.
-Not only are the drivers accessible, I can walk up to one of the racecars and touch it. I could pull a wire if I wanted to, but I don’t, I settle for kicking one of the tires. I have no idea why people kick tires when the check out a car. Is it like when you look at a horse in the mouth?
So what if “The Bad Touch” by the Bloodhound Gang has been hailed as one of the worst songs of all time? It brings about a very valid question: is there a difference between the way we “do it” and the way that animals “do it” on the Discovery Channel? According to The Museum of Sex’s exhibit, "The Sex Lives of Animals," apparently not.
Set to run through May of 2009, "The Sex Lives of Animals" is “a celebration of the diversity of animal sexual behavior. Sex in the animal kingdom is just as complex and nuanced as it is for humans, and pleasure, it seems, is not restricted to the human realm.”
The center of the exhibit boasts a life-sized, black and white sculpture of two pandas mating created by artist Rune Olsen. To compose the massive piece and four others like it, Olsen used “social materials” such as newspaper and tape. Behind the display is a caption that provided some interesting insight into the little known world of panda sexuality. One caption reads, “in an attempt to enhance their libido an encourage reproduction, captive male pandas have been shown ‘panda porn’ or videos of other pandas mating.
Sexually voracious male pandas have even been sent to zoos as an effort to provide a live sex demonstration for sexually inexperienced or unmotivated males.” Who knew?
Other displays include information about animal genitalia (including a photo of the particularly well-endowed bird pictured above), animal homosexuality, and sex acts in the animal kingdom. It should be noted that like humans, animals participate in masturbation, fellatio, cunnilingus, anal sex, and even versions of group sex. The bottom line? It appears we’re not that much different after all.
Scott Alexander
Gary Cole
Robert DeSalvo
Leopold Froehlich
Heather Haebe
Conor Hogan
Amy Grace Loyd
Gilbert Macias
Jamie Malanowski
Tim Mohr
Christopher Napolitano
David Pfister
Playboy Staff
Stephen Randall
Rocky Rakovic
Josh Robertson
Chip Rowe
Matt Steigbigel
Jennifer Thiele
John D. Thomas
Glynnis MacNicol
The very first Sexie Awards, given for excellence in Sex-Positive Journalism, were presented on Saturday night at Splash on West 17th Street. Playboy swept the three awards in its category, with "The Redclouds Revolution" by John H. Richardson (September 2007) and "The Girlfriend Experience" by Erik Hedegaard (Juky 2007) finishing just behind "Sex in Iran," by Pari Esfandiari and Richard Buskin, which appeared in May 2007. In citing Pari and Richard (pictured here, receiving his award), one judge said, “What an achievement this article is. Serious, attentive reporting and terrific scene-setting, with profound attention to the social and political context of sexual mores. A window onto a world of contradictions most Americans know nothing about. The best piece of sex reporting I have read in some time—and the best reporting on Iran as well.” Another said, “This is amazing journalism . . . the authors don’t just tackle teaching us about sex in another cultural context—they have to get us up to speed on that context at the same time.” Among the other publications represented by the winners were The New York Times, The Miami Herald, and Slate. Congratulations to all those who were recognized, and especially to Miriam Axel-Lute, the determined, persuasive journalist who conceived of the awards, and pulled them off. If you would like to nominate any articles for next year’s awards, visit sexies.org.
Melissa Wozniak gets a new pin-up:
Garth Stein is the author of 
The great thing about a school like Belmont is that it can call in favors from some high-profile alums and throw together a show that blows the shingles off country music’s most respected venue. When the Grand Ole Opry returns to the Ryman Auditorium and gorgeous Julie Roberts belts out Patsy Cline within the first 15 minutes, it’s like the stars line up and the honky-tonk jackpot hits all at once. The concert was a welcome-to-Nashville nod to journalists covering the debate, and even the most jaded of media types were humming along with Trisha Yearwood before the hour was over.
For the next presidential debate we tapped former editorial staffer and Nashvillan (? we’ll ask her what they call residents next time) Melissa Wozniak to report to us from Music City about the goings-on there. In her first filing she introduces her town with information that you can’t find on Wikipedia: 
Crown Royal invited Assistant Editor Rocky Rakovic to experience auto racing with the Royal treatment. He was given a pit pass, a ride in the pace car and shadowed the race’s Grand Marshal Dan Lowry (that’s him on the left). Next year you can be the Grand Marshal, seriously, enter to win 
So what if “
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