In 1965, a certain magazine began publication in an attempt to compete with Hugh Heffner’s Playboy Empire. In 2016, that same magazine followed the pattern of many iconic print publications, and closed their physical publishing facilities in order to relocate themselves to a strictly online market. When PENTHOUSE magazine did so, it stopped a long-running, albeit, friendly beef with me. I’m admittedly, sad that it’s over.
The word PENTHOUSE used to mean an additional attached house, and not necessarily one all the way up on the top of a high-rise apartment. It was apparently New York that started charging extra for those luxurious upper floors as a marketing tool, and it worked, making penthouse synonymous with luxury.
Well, let me tell you that not all penthouses are glorious first-class living quarters.
Mechanical machines, such as elevator winches, air handlers, and boilers are often installed on rooftops of tall buildings. In order to protect all those lovely mechanical, pneumatic and electronic doodads from the elements, walls and ceilings protect those vital machines, and those huts are also called penthouses, and it’s those structures that I still find myself working in almost every day.
Let me tell you, it is NOTHING like the magazine that shared the namesake bragged about. Penthouse magazine was a softcore turned hardcore pornographic magazine that also featured urban lifestyle articles. As time went on, Penthouse would lean more and more heavily into its racy nature, publishing anthologies like the write-in-and-confess Letters to Penthouse. They would even assist in producing an erotic retelling of Emperor Caligula. As a teen, I often found myself allured by the sultry covers, although I never purchased a copy until I was much older, and I swear I only did it to get the address.
It was the end of a long day of laboring 16 stories high. I had spent 14 hours getting three boilers working, and when I was done I felt exhausted instead of elated. Stopping in at the local convenience store to guzzle down some Gatorade, I spied the Penthouse magazines for sale behind the cashier. Grumbling over how that magazine had raised my hopes and expectations of what I would discover working in said structures, I purchased a single copy.
Once home, I wrote a letter ins a tongue-and-cheek style for no other reason than to blow off some steam from my day.
“Dear Penthouse Magazine” It began. “As a mechanic, I often find myself working in structures that share their name with your magazine. Curious, I had purchased one of said magazines in hopes that it would illuminate further insights into my career of maintaining rooftop mechanical equipment. While I certainly found the pictures enticing, and the articles fascinating, I must suggest that you change the name of your magazine as it does not accurately represent what real mechanical penthouses are like.
“Thank you for your time and consideration
“Sincerely
“Stephen.”
Chuckling, I sealed the message in an envelope and mailed it off to the United States for just over the cost of a cup of coffee.
I didn’t think anything of it. It was me being sarcastic, silly, and a message that I hoped would be received as the joke I thought it was.
Apparently, someone else shared my sense of humor.
Weeks passed, and I received notice that a parcel was waiting for me at the local post office. Curious, I opened it to find two of the latest editions of the magazine falling into my lap, as well as a very nicely typed letter.
“Dear Stephen
“We here at Penthouse International pride ourselves in professionalism and accurate reporting. Needless to say, your request was taken with grave consideration and did spark an internal conversation. Unfortunately, we must apologize as changing the company’s name now would impact too many of our clients who are now familiar with our brand.
“We are glad that you appreciated the articles. Please, feel free to enjoy these magazines and share them with your associates in the hopes that we can all get along regardless of the confusion that we have caused you.
“Sincerely
“Penthouse International.”
Sadly, I gave the magazines away long ago, and the letter is lost in my various files and folders I have filled over the years. While my thoughts remain mixed on the impact Penthouse international has had on society, I will never forget the fact that someone, somewhere, in that empire of eroticism, shared my sense of humor.