The Last Playboy

I just finished this wonderful book and it's one of the best things that I've read in years. "The Last Playboy - The High Life of Porfirio Rubirosa" by Shawn Levy.

Rubirosa, the larger-than-life, world renown playboy and fortune hunter (and finder!) has always fascinated me. I have been fascinated by his life ever since I was a kid in high school.

I would read about him in the newspapers, in articles accompanied by lush photos of Rubi and some ultra-gorgeous woman in an exotic setting, and about how much money she had and how crazy she was about Rubi. It fascinated me that a man could actually make a living like this. And not just a living, a life of luxury and excitement beyond my wildest high school fantasies. And believe me, I fantasized quite a bit while slogging through Brother Rice all boys Catholic high school in Evergreen Park, Illinois, in the early 1960s.

To the uninformed, Porfirio Rubirosa had a modest upbringing, born into a family of 3 kids in the Dominican Republic, his father was a minor player in the diplomatic corps. He was a headstrong, impulsive, passionate young man who turned womens' heads. His first big love was the daughter of the ruthless dictator, Trujillo, Flor de Oro. Trujillo forbid the romance and threatened Rubi with death several times. He rebelled and courted her. At one point he had to go into hiding with relatives. Eventually he prevailed, as he usually did, throughout his exciting life.

Trujillo came to admire the gutsy, likeable man and awarded him with cushy diplomatic posts around the world for most of his life. This only facilitated his partying ways and provided a wonderful entree into the world of extreme wealth and meeting a certain class of female, i.e., the high priced spread.

In an early scene in the book, that would become emblematic of his relationships with women throughout his life, Rubi and Flor are living at the embassy of the Dominican Republic in Paris. On a typical weeknight, Rubi is out at a nightclub where he meets a woman and she takes him home. They spend the night at her apartment. Early in the morning Rubi makes his way back to the Embassy, makes up a suitable story about the previous evening, gets cleaned up and joins his wife and the Ambassador for breakfast. Then he notices an elaborate arrangement of flowers in front of his place setting. A note is attached from his paramour of the evening about what a wonderful, glorious time she had with him, comparing it to a summer in Sweden. Rubi compares the following breakfast chill to winter in Serbia. He makes no apologies and just moves on.

Reading thru the book it is hard to believe that this all happened, that this man's life really was like this.

A lot of people have attempted to dismiss Rubi as just a Latin fortune hunter with a twelve inch dong. (Do I have penis envy? You're damn skippy I do! I'm Irish, remember?)

I'm sure that played a part, but his charisma was much more than that. This was a guy with a genuine personality that drew people to him, men and women. If he had just been in it for the money then he would have stayed married to Doris Duke, who adored him and was at that time the richest woman in the world.

He was the only one of her husbands who ever gave her gifts and she treasured them. But Rubi moved on. It wasn't just about money for him, but the mystery and allure of new women.

It is quite telling that Rubi stayed friends with all of his exes. They all spoke well of him.

He was also incredibly lucky. When he was assigned to the embassy in Paris during the Nazi occupation, Rubi was having one of his typical grand nights out in a Paris nightclub. Getting a bit buzzed, he began smashing wine glasses on the floor after emptying them. This caught the attention of an arrogant SS Officer who was affronted by this non-Nazi having so much fun in public. He tossed a glass at Rubi, hitting him in the face. Rubi attacked the officer and a fist fight ensued. The fight was broken up by management and both parties were ejected. The next day Rubi was arrested by the SS. His diplomatic papers helped him but his life was really in danger and he and his then wife, the actress Danielle Darrieux, had to go into hiding for the next six months. It is amazing that he wasn't just executed outright in the nightclub. He had nine lives.

Before I wrap this up, I want to give you a brief example of Rubi in his charm offensive mode. He spots Zsa Zas Gabor on the elevator at The Plaza, where both are staying. "Her blonde hair was swept up," he recalled. "She was wearing a mink coat and leading two poodles. She was a staggering sight."

He broke the ice. "Madam, what are you doing in New York?" He invited her to join him and Trujillo for a drink. She demurred; she had to dress for a premiere. She went to her suite for a nap; when she awoke, her room was filled with roses, dozens and dozens of roses. Amid them, an engraved card from Rubi. "For a most beautiful lady, Rubi."

The phone rang: him. "May I come over for a drink?"
By this time, her hair was half done and she was working against the clock to get ready for the big show. Not a chance.
"Perhaps later?"
"His voice was low," she remembered in a purple fog, "of such timbre that even over the telephone it seemed to me he was whispering in my ear."
And then he whispered something that gave her an uncanny sense of shock and thrill: "This is a world of strange coincidences. Would you believe it: we have adjoining suites."



I can vividly remember walking home from the Rock Island Line train station on 95th Street on the South Side of Chicago in the summer of around 1960. I was in high school and working a summer job at the company my father worked at as treasurer, The Radio Materials Company. My dad was a wonderful guy, very successful, with seven kids. It was about a nine block walk from the train station to our house in the Beverly neighborhood. We were making idle conversation and he asked me something about what kind of life I had in mind for myself. Not thinking of the consequences, I told him I'd like to live like Rubirosa. He looked at me like I had grown three heads. Keep in mind, my dad was a work-a-holic. He was extremely successful but most of his life was devoted to his job. He didn't have much interest in sports and on the weekends he would enjoy making breakfast, lots of bacon, for the family. "Are you nuts? You want to be like him?" This was heresy to him.

Reading this book just confirms those feelings. If I could have exchanged my life for Rubi's I would have done it in a heartbeat.

The book was a grand getaway for me. I recommend it.