My Uncle, the ‘70s Porn Star

His name is Johnny Seeman. He's seventy-four now and lives alone. But from 1973 to 1987, this nice Jewish boy from Westchester was a legend in the pre-Viagra, Boogie Nights–era porno business. For all his success, though, he never found what he was looking for.

View in Browser My Uncle, the '70s Porn Star The most important thing you need to know about my uncle, the porn star, is that he's not my actual uncle. He's my mother's cousin, which makes him my first cousin once removed. Johnny is now a seventy-four-year-old man partial to books-on-tape and cantaloupe, but between 1973 and 1987, he starred in 117 adult films. He was Man in Car, Man with Book, Man on Bus, Man in Hot Tub, Orgy Guy in Red Chair, Party Guy, Guy Wearing Glasses, Delivery Boy, and, perplexingly, Guy in Credits. He was the porn equivalent of Barbie, who can count astronaut, zookeeper, and aerobics instructor among her professional accomplishments. Except that Barbie, like Jesus before her and Prince after her, has no last name. Whereas Johnny's last name, his actual last name, is Seeman. This is a fact too absurd to warrant further analysis.   I didn't snoop around about Johnny until college, but this was not for lack of interest. My college years happened to coincide with the late nineties, when the Internet was fast becoming a tool for personal research. Before that, my generation mostly used it for chain letters and lightbulb jokes. How many Harvard students does it take to change a lightbulb? Two. One to hold the lightbulb and the other to rotate the world around him. But suddenly I had a vehicle for my curiosity. So I looked up Johnny to see what I could find. I was neither brave nor willing enough to search for video footage for fear of noticing any genetic resemblance to my mother's brothers. Even the Greeks don't have a name for that specific a complex. Instead, I read. My favorite article to this day was one in which Johnny is referred to—revered, really—as the most famous stunt cock ever. That was the headline—JOHNNY SEEMAN: THE MOST FAMOUS STUNT COCK EVER. Read the Full Story On the Ground with Ukraine's All-Volunteer Territorial Defense Forces Four weeks into its invasion of Ukraine, Russia has failed to achieve the sweeping conquest Putin—and much of the world—had expected. Its armies lay mired in conflict, confined largely to the east and south of the country, having thus far captured only two large cities. In the north, the capital of Kyiv has yet to be encircled. The Russian invaders have encountered un-forecasted resistance in all major cities, their supply lines have been hobbled by constant attacks, and the Ukrainian military has displayed a surprising, deadly mobility. 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That's what I'm here to tell you today. I know that, for many of you out there, this is categorically bad news. A few others may feel a sense of ambivalence about the whole issue. Fewer still will be genuinely excited. But the other thing I'm here to tell you is that the last group has it right. This isn't a bad thing. This could even be a good thing. I realize that might sound entirely wrong to you. I get it. I remember Y2K fashion. I remember the "bootcut" jeans that clung to thighs but pooled—gigantic, far bigger than you need for a boot—over Etnies sneakers. It was way, way worse than everyone on TikTok would have you believe. But amidst the trash-heap of bedazzled pockets, terrifyingly tiny rises, and woefully ill-informed wash treatments, there was a nugget of goodness in those pants we wore all those years ago. Read the Full Story My Father, My Tormentor I look like my father, move like my father, talk like my father. When I was a child and we went places together, we were a full-size and miniature version of the same windup toy, our strides clipped and jolting, brows clenched in concentration, pale legs eerily glowing in the brilliant Miami sunlight. I am unmistakably my father's daughter, but we're estranged from each other. The last time I saw him, more than a decade ago at my grandfather's funeral, he gave me a kiss. I don't expect he'll kiss me again. Read the Full Story Michael Corleone, Role Model Michael Corleone is about being immaculate in your own mind—and no armor is more crucial to the ruling class of Hollywood. For this is a rhapsody to power itself as an alternative to every creeping threat of untidiness in America. And here it is proper to say something about the politics of The Godfather that undermines every hope for authorial personality in the movies. Francis Coppola was in the early seventies, and is still, a good example of the northern-California liberal. He is generous, humane, outgoing, a man of his people, Clintonesque in his muddled but authentic urge to do well by people and to be liked by them. At the same time, The Godfather was and is a loving endorsement of conservative repression, power, order; the preservation of these values; and the understanding that opposition must be exterminated. Read the Full Story Follow Us Unsubscribe | Privacy Notice/Notice at Collection esquire.com ©2022 Hearst Magazine Media, Inc. All Rights Reserved. Hearst Magazines, 300 West 57th Street, New York, NY 10019