Naples once hired a retired Army officer as Chief of Police. His military service record was brilliant. His list of commendations, illustrious. His bravery, unquestioned. He lasted six-months as the Chief. We'll call him the Colonel.
In a month, the stress of the job had given him such severe dermatitis that his hands looked like pink oven mitts. Then his cocktail lunches stretched to most of the afternoon. His love of liquid stupid finally led to his premature downfall. Loaded, while speaking at a local women's club, he salted his address with raunchy officer's club humor, using all the filthy language in a soldier's arsenal. Next day he was gone.
One of the things that drove him over the edge was that he couldn't separate political rhetoric from genuine vows of intent. When the movie Deep Throat was screened locally and all the Council members ranted about how deplorable that was, the Colonel though they were serious. He immediately instituted a crusade against porno.
To advance this war he sent me to the Book Nook, on 5th Ave South, to buy a copy of every adult magazine in the place. The Book Nook wasn't a porno shop, but a complete magazine store with a huge inventory. It was a downtown landmark and meeting place. Speaker of the House Tipp O'Neill, during his frequent visits to Naples, hung out there. They did have girly magazines, but discreetly displayed in the rear of the store, in an Adults Only alcove.
When I came back with a stack two feet tall, the Colonel was elated. His suspicions had borne fruit. The filth was ubiquitous. Now he had to study these vile publications and determine if they met the standards of pornography. And study he did. Until the pages were as fluffed open from frequent turning as a Sears catalog in an outhouse. And there were always several open on his desk.
To make matters worse, he kept them stacked on the front of his desk, where anyone siting in the visitors chair had to look over them to see him. At the time, being Assistant Chief, I shared his office. It was great fun to see how long it took a visitor to notice that they had to peer over a copy of Naked Nubile Nymphs to talk to the Chief of Police. This went on until the City Manager happened by one day, took the chair, looked down and erupted into a giant um pah storm.
The knockout blow for the porno war came when Judge Harold Smith reviewed the affidavits for a warrant to arrest the owner of the Gulf Gate Theater for showing Deep Throat. The Judge, a man of common sense and earthy wit said, "Where's the warrant for the other fella?"
The prosecutor was confused. "What other fella?"
"The one who held the gun on these people and forced them into the theater to watch this thing." Case dismissed. (It was rumored that the good Judge had personally evaluated this film. Several times)
We did learn from the Colonel. The porno law required that you use the community standard to determine what was acceptable in your town and what wasn't, Miami probably being different from Gobbler's Knob. Determining that demanded a lotta study. We would study the subject matter, particularly 8mm films, for hours trying to classify them. It was grueling work but somebody had to do it.
My favorite was the one with the dwarf and the fat lady. It was titled Where There's A Woodie There's A Way.
Thanks, Cuz.
In a month, the stress of the job had given him such severe dermatitis that his hands looked like pink oven mitts. Then his cocktail lunches stretched to most of the afternoon. His love of liquid stupid finally led to his premature downfall. Loaded, while speaking at a local women's club, he salted his address with raunchy officer's club humor, using all the filthy language in a soldier's arsenal. Next day he was gone.
One of the things that drove him over the edge was that he couldn't separate political rhetoric from genuine vows of intent. When the movie Deep Throat was screened locally and all the Council members ranted about how deplorable that was, the Colonel though they were serious. He immediately instituted a crusade against porno.
To advance this war he sent me to the Book Nook, on 5th Ave South, to buy a copy of every adult magazine in the place. The Book Nook wasn't a porno shop, but a complete magazine store with a huge inventory. It was a downtown landmark and meeting place. Speaker of the House Tipp O'Neill, during his frequent visits to Naples, hung out there. They did have girly magazines, but discreetly displayed in the rear of the store, in an Adults Only alcove.
When I came back with a stack two feet tall, the Colonel was elated. His suspicions had borne fruit. The filth was ubiquitous. Now he had to study these vile publications and determine if they met the standards of pornography. And study he did. Until the pages were as fluffed open from frequent turning as a Sears catalog in an outhouse. And there were always several open on his desk.
To make matters worse, he kept them stacked on the front of his desk, where anyone siting in the visitors chair had to look over them to see him. At the time, being Assistant Chief, I shared his office. It was great fun to see how long it took a visitor to notice that they had to peer over a copy of Naked Nubile Nymphs to talk to the Chief of Police. This went on until the City Manager happened by one day, took the chair, looked down and erupted into a giant um pah storm.
The knockout blow for the porno war came when Judge Harold Smith reviewed the affidavits for a warrant to arrest the owner of the Gulf Gate Theater for showing Deep Throat. The Judge, a man of common sense and earthy wit said, "Where's the warrant for the other fella?"
The prosecutor was confused. "What other fella?"
"The one who held the gun on these people and forced them into the theater to watch this thing." Case dismissed. (It was rumored that the good Judge had personally evaluated this film. Several times)
We did learn from the Colonel. The porno law required that you use the community standard to determine what was acceptable in your town and what wasn't, Miami probably being different from Gobbler's Knob. Determining that demanded a lotta study. We would study the subject matter, particularly 8mm films, for hours trying to classify them. It was grueling work but somebody had to do it.
My favorite was the one with the dwarf and the fat lady. It was titled Where There's A Woodie There's A Way.
Thanks, Cuz.
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