Bent out of Shape

t was the mid-1960s, I’d been shaving for a year, and I had cut myself both times. was enamored of magazine, not for the centerfold (really!) but for the interviews and highbrow advice to young men like myself: “What to do if your date wants to bring her mother?” I was most intrigued to find out that Hugh Hefner spent long days (and nights, presumably) on a round bed atop which he sorted images of models and