I’m sure there was a time — 40 to 50 years ago — when every guy wanted to be Hugh Hefner. Not because he peddled soft porn for a living, but because so many beautiful women were reportedly lining up to have sex with him to appear in Playboy.
Incidentally, I have always felt that he has nothing to apologize for. I respect a liberated woman’s choice to prostitute herself for career-enhancing publicity or free room and board at the Playboy Mansion. And, yes, Iike this generally accepted form of prostitution, I believe all other forms should be decriminalized.
Today, though I suspect most men see Hefner today as a rather pathetic figure – making a spectacle of himself by trying to live at 84 the playboy lifestyle he lived at 40. After all, most 40-year-old men don’t have the energy and brains to fully satisfy just one sexually liberated woman. The notion that 84-year-old Hef can satisfy three, even pumped up on Viagra, is patently absurd. .
And he only compounded the public spectacle he was making of his private life when he announced in January his intent to marry a 24-year-old named Crystal Harris. Because it was so self-evident that a marriage between these two would amount to nothing but the unholy union of his dotage and her greed.
Now, just when I thought he could not look any more pathetic, comes word that she left him, in effect, at the altar. She dumped him on Wednesday just days before the lavish nuptials they had planned for tomorrow. And, like the jilted bride who had already donned her gown, Hef had already commissioned a commemorative issue of Playboy, featuring Harris on the cover with the headline “America’s Princess Introducing Mrs. Crystal Hefner“.
In a flaccid attempt to save face, he ordered his publishers to slap a sticker with the words “Runaway Bride” over her private parts on all issues that were not already released for promotional purposes: making lemonade out of lemons…?
Anyway, nothing indicates how patently venal his fiancée’s motives were quite like reports that she called off the wedding because Hef refused to guarantee her a weekly allowance that would enable her to indulge in the Hollywood lifestyle she clearly coveted. This, notwithstanding the crocodile tears she’s shedding now about suddenly developing a crisis of moral conscience over Hef’s desire to continue having his Viagra-fuelled “bunga bunga” parties with other playmates. Duh….
No, I believe the money was the deal breaker because even a teenager does not want to depend on a parent (though grandparent seems more apt) for money every time she goes out. Even worse is the prospect of having that grandparent tagging along (as Hef always did) to cramp her style. Old fool, he really thought she was marrying him for love.
In the end, though, there’s no escaping the irony or comeuppance that Hef – who was purportedly living every man’s dream – has been dumped … like an ordinary chump. And it serves him right.