It wasn’t for naughty purposes it was for inspiration. Speaking of Playboy, I taught at a university, and one magazine I had in my bottom desk drawer was Playboy with your spread in it.
That’s considerably better than The Trucker’s Gazette. I don’t now where it was - it may have been The Trucker’s Gazette - where you were chosen 27th on the list of “The Sexiest Women” of the last century. Like Hildy in The Ballad of Cable Hogue, Stella bloomed again in the desert. I edited our interview and sent it to Bright Lights.
Recently somehow Stellahad seen a copy of an article (unpublished) I had written - “Who Wants to Be an Interviewer?” - and emailed me about it. Gazing out the window she said, “I see those leaves blowing on that tree, and it just thrills me.” So from smoky bar to Edenic Las Vegas.Īfter transcription, the interview wound up - with the rest of myLimbo-bound manuscripts - in my bottom drawer. She was ready to flee, so I drove her to our apartment where my wife Judy gave her a beer and snacks, and without a whiff of smoke she was able to relax, even becoming poetic. When we entered the darkened bar, she recoiled and cried, “Smoke!” I thought I had taken her to hell. When the convention was over, I drove her to a local bar and restaurant where I thought we could have some privacy in a booth. In 2003, Stella Stevens appeared at a celebrity convention in Las Vegas, and we were to have an interview afterwards.
In which Stella tells all or at least most
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