Commenter Anonymous reminded me that I hadn’t taken note of this article on a Playboy Bunny reunion cruise, the addition of which strikes me as the only thing that could have made the Arrested Development premiere funnier than it already was. Anonymous takes the high road and avoids poking fun at the women. But your humble host feels compelled to comment here and there…
“For Diane Walton, 62, it was ‘the feeling of sisterhood’ she knew as a bunny that drew her to the reunion.”
[This is not ridiculous. Solidarity is damn powerful. But it does make me think of Monty Python’s Society for Putting Things on Top of Other Things.]
“Ms. Walton, tall, with flowing auburn hair, was fresh out of Berkeley in 1968, with a degree in English and a yearning for adventure, when she joined the Kansas City club on a lark. Her traditional Catholic parents, she said, ‘were slightly horrified.’
[This is where a reporter not keeping a bemused distance from the whole thing might ask, “Did they say why?” Or maybe it just wasn’t that kind of story.]
“They eventually softened, especially after her strong-willed Irish grandmother told them to give her a break.”
[“In my day, we would have been grateful to be allowed to snag a man by showing off our buxom Irish figures! But no! We had to win him at the annual Milking & Digging Faire. Only the strongest cow-milkers and potato diggers could hope to find a husband; the rest of us were bundled off to America to work as scullery maids! Beauty counted not a whit!”]
“Ms. Walton recalled her grandmother telling her, ‘If I was your age in these times, I’d do the same thing.'”
[Ah, these times. So unlike all the previous times.]
“She told me the same thing years later, when I was the first in the family to get divorced,” Ms. Walton said.
[Yay divorce! You win! Because in these times, a failed marriage isn’t a failure!]
“Karen Drennan, who at 17 lied about her age so she could start working as a bunny in Dallas in 1977, went on to become an actress, but quit to home-school her two sons and teach Sunday school.”
[See? Sunday school! Homeschooling! Playboy Bunnies – they’re exactly the same as you or me. Except we’re writing an article about them because they used to wear bunny ears and cotton tails and show off their assets while slinging drinks. So actually, they’re special.]
“Like many other former bunnies, she lives quietly among people who have little idea about her Playboy past. She doesn’t talk much about it, but doesn’t hide it, either. When friends of her teenage boys visit, they sometimes gawk at the sexy young bunny in the photo in the house.
[Hello? Editorial? Ending a sentence with a clunker like “in the photo in the house”? Were you distracted by the thought of a sexy young bunny?]
“Who is that?” they ask.
“Oh, that’s just my mom,” her boys will reply, a bit sheepishly.
[A bit sheepishly. How quaint.]
The friends don’t buy it.
‘My boys are a little embarrassed,’ Ms. Drennan said, ‘and I’m a little insulted that their friends don’t really believe it’s me.'”
[Image taken from this kind of heartbreaking slideshow.]