Hey Goober - hope all your working parts survived the onslaught of the beatles -
Reading Palomine's tales of odd places to FIND men's magazines, as well as the furtive outright purchases of these kinds of magazines, reminds me of a couple of related tales. First there were the half size cartoon books. I can't remember a single brand name of these sexy cartoon compilations but I do recall that Bill Ward's work was a recurring staple. And he would usually have six to 12 of his busty dream girl visions in each one of these.
I discovered these items that were so very interesting on a foray into Manhattan, which was for a kid growing up in Long Island. a trip to the porn capital of the entire world. This was pre-internet and pre-personal computers, and even pre-VHS. Seeing a Ward beauty with those cavernous cleavages along with the most extreme carnal cravings was more than a young college kid like me had run-across in real life in those days.
But it was an hour or more away by train, or at least an hour's drive to park in the Queen's Boulevard Alexander's store parking lot, then take the E Train into Manhattan. So a closer point of purchase was needed. Lo and behold, I discovered that the most local of all the magazine and cigarette stores in my town carried the smaller and tamer comics - obviously not the bigger Bill Ward Specials that could only be found in the sex shops on the Deuce (the 42nd Street/Times Square Area). That was the good news.
The bad news was that my next door neighbor was the owner of the shop. I couldn't imagine for one second that I could buy sexually oriented publications from him. So I discovered a news and magazine store two towns away that carried the same items. A trip to go out to buy cigarettes usually meant I'd be back home in not less than 90 minutes rather than the expected 10 minutes.
Years later I discovered that Woody Allen, the comedian and then later the film auteur had the same urges and desires. He even put a scene of this nature into his very first movie which was called Bananas(1971) . Which I saw in a revival movie house years later. Allen's character, Fielding Mellish, no doubt a play on the word nebbish which was an exact description of the character - nowadays -he would be called a geek -had the same urges and desires, just like me, and just like most males of a collegiate age (18-21). And he lived in Manhattan which meant easy access to porn.
But in those days one had to be circumspect when buying such materials. And it could never, never be left anyplace where one's mother might find it. So Allen portraying a left-wing, artsy, liberal, intelligent, smart-assed, smart-mouthed, sexually obsessed, and callow youth made his way to his favorite magazine store. As always he had to keep up appearances - so he picked up The Saturday Review, Harpers Magazine, and a few other high-brow movie magazines from the UK and France plus one other magazine that he shuffled towards the bottom of the stack.
Then he had to wait until most of the store's patrons left so he could bring his purchases to checkout without any untoward events happening. Just as the cashier began to ring up the magazines - a few groups of women walked in. So the cashier is checking his stuff through = Saturday review 3-50, Harpers -4 dollars, Cineaste, 7-75 - and then - the worst thing possible. The cashier holds up the magazine and shouts loud enough for everyone in the whole store to hear,
"Hey Seymour - how much for ORGASM Magazine!!!"
Well Allen's Mellish was mortified beyond belief. And me, I howled in laughter having gone to such lengths (nearly) myself. So thanks Palomine for bringing it all back to me today.