The Three Times I Met Hugh Hefner


The First Time I Met Hugh Hefner...

I've met Hugh Hefner three times in my life. Now I know what you are thinking... Did this guy really meet Hugh Hefner...? I know I've told some outlandish stories in the past and most of them are true.

I'll never forget the first time I met Hugh Hefner. I was just a ten year old kid rummaging through the kitchen cupboards of my childhood home—I even remember the address 604 Southwood Drive—isn't that crazy how we can remember things like that... Any ways the first time I met him, I wasn't looking for him. In fact I didn't even know he existed—what I was looking for was a stash of chocolate chip cookies I knew my sister had hidden somewhere in the deepest corners of the kitchen cupboards. Reaching back into the darkness my hand grabbed a small leather pouch—opening the pouch I found a tobacco pipe and some tobacco—not what I was looking for. Reaching my arms even further I grabbed hold of a Playboy magazine. This was the first time I met Hugh Hefner.

The Second Time I Met Hugh Hefner...

The second time I met Hugh Hefner I was in Jr. High. I was staying the night at my friend Mike's house—who by the way had a really hot older sister named Nicole—yeah I still remember her name... Anyways after my friend caught me checking out his sister, he motioned me to his dad's den and said if I thought his sister was hot then I should checkout what his dad had stashed away in his desk. We sheepishly tiptoed towards the desk pulled open the drawer and found a treasure trove of goods hidden away—a bottle of Old Grand-dad, a pack of cigarettes, a book of matches, and a Playboy magazine. That was the second time I met Hugh Hefner.

The Third Time I Met Hugh Hefner...

The third time I met Hugh Hefner—well kind've—I was in my early twenties and one of my coworkers had a subscription to Playboy magazine, because his wife let him. He talked me up and gave me a sense of bravery I had never felt before. I went home that day and I must've had a strut, because my wife could tell something was up because she immediately asked me, "What do you want!" Of course I responded matter of factly, with a somewhat break in my voice—nothing... followed with a quick, "Can I have a subscription to Playboy—such and such's wife lets him..." That was the third time I met Hugh Hefner.

A So Called Icon Is Dead...

As you can imagine that didn't go over very well with my wife—lets just say she pretty much educated me on they ways of Jesus and that was the end of that—well sorta... I have three beautiful women in my life—my wife and my two daughters, so NO it wasn't the end of it. I really had to rethink how I viewed women. Growing up with a single mom, and my wife precipitated me to really sit back and think about my views of women and how we as men objectify and propagate pornography of women. I learned that these women who surrounded me were not objects for me to use.

They are humans who live, think, and breath just like me. They have dreams, ambitions, and feelings—they want to be known and to know. You can hear and feel their heart beating... You see pornography, especially the kind found on the pages of a magazine—the kind that is unable to move, talk, or make noises is probably the worst kind of pornography because it dehumanizes women. And when I sit next to my wife or my daughters, they are real—they move, talk, and breath the same air I am breathing. They are people with souls—you can see it in their eyes—that flicker of life we all have. And when you look at naked women in a magazine you don't see that flicker of life in their eyes.

So I woke up the other day to hear Hugh Hefner had died. I am saddened, but not shocked to hear people, entertainers, and feminists praising him for being a pioneer of women rights. There has been no man in our generation who has done more to demean and objectify women than Hugh Hefner. I was surprised to see people like feminist and liberals celebrate someone who “loved women” because of their bodies and created an empire off of people made in the image of God. They eulogize Hugh Hefner as a hero and celebrate his sexism of women and to me it seems so hypocritical. He was a purveyor of filth—nothing more.

These people need new heroes.