No wonder radio station WHLO (640 AM) drew blockbuster ratings back in the day. The station kept giving away Playboy Playmates.
Two readers still have vivid memories of going on dates with centerfolds more than four decades ago.
Bob Pittinger, now 70, was a 23-year-old “swinger,” as Beacon Journal columnist Mickey Porter labeled him, when he submitted an essay that caught the judges’ eyes during the spring of 1969.
A hundred words I do not need /
On why this most delightful deed /
I must.
A single word it will suffice, /
And that one word of precious price /
Is LUST.
That effort earned the Archbishop Hoban grad a spot among five finalists. The Playmate herself — Leslie Bianchini, Miss January 1969 and a San Francisco Playboy Club bunny — then conducted phone interviews with each of them before declaring Pittinger her date.
The good-looking young lad was an artist employed by Goodyear Aerospace in the Engineering Presentations Department, where he worked with engineers to illustrate aerospace projects. He was shocked that he won but ecstatic.
On a Saturday night, Pittinger was picked up at home in a limo carrying the designated chaperones, legendary WHLO disc jockey Johnny Andrews and his wife. The foursome went to Tangier and “had a wonderful meal,” he says.
Dinner wrapped up about 9:30, but his date wanted to experience some Akron nightlife. So the driver took the Andrewses home and, at Pittinger’s suggestion, headed for Red’s Bar in South Akron.
“We walked in and it seemed the music stopped,” he reports. “Arnie, the owner at that time, put us right up front by the band. All my buddies were totally blown away.”
A couple of his so-called pals wanted to dance with her, but she shooed them away.
Pittinger and Bianchini shut the place down at 2 a.m. The limo dropped him off then took her back to her hotel.
When asked whether he at least got a good-night kiss, he replied, “Yes, but not the kind that I had with my girlfriend — who is now my wife of 43 years.”
Good answer, Bob.
Tale No. 2 comes compliments of yet another Bob, last name Adamov, a Kent State grad who apparently is a combination of Ernest Hemingway and Jimmy Buffett.
Adamov has written a series of novels based in Put-in-Bay, Ohio’s (extremely seasonal) version of Margaritaville. His main character is a Washington Post investigative reporter named Emerson Moore.
Adamov is a bit of a character himself. For the cover of his novel Tan Lines, he figured he would need a woman in a bikini. So he got Budweiser to sponsor a big contest during the heart of the Put-in-Bay party season at the crazy outdoor bar Splash, and winnowed down the candidates — ever so slowly, no doubt.
Adamov has some writing cred. Among his honors: featured author at the 2006 Ernest Hemingway Days’ Literary Festival in Key West.
His first significant effort on the keyboard came in March 1970, when, at age 21, he responded to the WHLO siren song with a letter about why he wanted a date with Nancy McNeil, Miss July 1969.
He can no longer remember the contents of the letter (too much time at Put-in-Bay will do that to you), but he remembers listening to the radio in his room when the contest was announced.
He had no idea what Miss July looked like, but given her resume, he figured she would be worth the effort. After two hours at the typewriter, his love letter was finished.
The packaging may have been as impressive as the letter. He decorated a box with WHLO stickers he had in a drawer, along with photos of Playboy Bunnies. After tying a red bow on it, he drove the box to the station to deliver it in person — “not that I was anxious!”
Adamov met McNeil and the Andrewses at Iacomini’s Restaurant and instantly judged her as “beautiful.”
“I did feel awkward when she asked me to pin her corsage on her ample chest,” he notes. “I still recall my face turning red. Hey, I was just 21! Johnny’s wife came to the rescue and pinned it on her for me.”
After “a fine dinner,” they headed to the Hilton West in Fairlawn for a party with WHLO marketing folks and some of Adamov’s colleagues from Goodyear, where he worked as an accountant.
They played charades, and at one point Adamov’s mom stopped by and read palms.
“Nancy and I had a great time,” he says. “We learned that we were fans of Will and Ariel Durant’s The Story of Civilization. So what does Bob talk to a Playmate about? History! What a dork I was!”
Au contraire. She was probably impressed by your erudition.
Playmates dig erudites.
Bob Dyer can be reached at 330-996-3580 or bdyer@thebeaconjournal.com. He also is on Facebook at www.facebook.com/bob.dyer.31