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It was a dark and rainy night as a haggard Randy Potes, known to the porn world as Cal Jammer, drove like a maniac through Hollywood Hills in his leased 1994 white Ford Ranger. He was a man on a mission and that mission was death. (N.Smith) A few hours before, Cal had discovered his wife in bed with Chuck Martino. For two years Cal had been threatening suicide. When he finally lived up to his word, he left behind friends and family in addition to his performances in about 600 sexvids. Another Cal legacy is the roof at the one top-rate porn soundstage Trac Tech, formerly owned by photographer, gaffer and Cal's best friend Ron Vogel. Cal left behind numerous unhappy men like himself who want to be stars but are not needed in a business that depends on beautiful women, not men. In her 1999 book "Dorothy of Kansas Meets the Wizard of X," Linda Alexander described her meeting with Cal in the early 1990s. "His bravado is nothing more than a cover-up. He's a nice, sweet guy once we get beyond his insecurity-induced, over-inflated ego... He's like a big teddy bear just waiting to be hugged." Cal tells Alexander that he wants a normal life, with a wife, home and children. He does interior design on the side and clothing design. He wants to put out his own line of clothes. He gets jealous of his porn star girlfriend Cameo working in porn. In an October 30th 1995 article in the New Yorker, Susan Faludi writes about Cal and the anxiety of male performers. "Susan was the first person [in the mainstream media] to write about porn men," says Bill Margold. "The man is a paradox in this business because even the most unpalatable man is still a hero to most people, while even the most palatable woman is still held to be a whore. "Because the man lives by his dick, he dies by his dick. Cal Jammer reflects that. "I referred to Cal as the Sean Penn of porn out of Ridgemont High. He was the dumbest person I've ever met in this business. He had the personality of a sheep dog - always wanting to be petted. "I saw him come out of Jim South's office his last afternoon. He was upset and I waved to him to come talk to me. He kept walking. Who knows whether I could've helped him?" Ernest Greene: "Though the female performers elicit sympathy for their situation, the male performers' circumstances are probably more trying. They probably need the sympathy more and get it less. Someone always wants to help, save, support, and otherwise come to the aid of damsels in distress in this industry. But the distress of themen is private and does not inspire much sympathy. In fact, it inspires resentment from other men. Other men look at these pictures and say, "Those lucky sons of bitches. They get to f--- all these great-looking girls. I wish I could be one of them." But when I watch them work, the impression is not of men having a good time. It is the impression of men doing a grim piece of work." Dr. Stoller: "Pounding rocks on the chain gang." Ernest Greene: "Absolutely. And under tremendous pressure, with the knowledge tht one or two failures and they're out. There's no mercy. The way the male performers are treated on the set if they fail to perform is chilling. It's as if they've suddenly come down with some terrible communicable disease [when they are impotent]. It's a lot of pressure, just knowing that if it happens on three consecutive pictures, you'll probably never work again. "The adult industry functions as an asylum for people who refuse to let go of their adolescence, a hideout for arrested development cases. That's why people are trapped, despite what other talents they might have; despite formidable physical energies... There is no place else they can still be called boys and girls until they're 40. "It's a hideout from the terrible demands of adulthood. It lets them remain forever in a state of overheated adolescent sexuality, the very place their personalities were formed, stuck where they discovered sex." Women inside and outside of porn usually feel more free to express their negative feelings, but Susan Faludi concentrates on men and artfully extracts their frustrations. Her previous writings testify to her skill at portraying heterosexual men as dolts. In this New Yorker article, every leading male character, except the gay one, comes off as a buffoon. In her 1994 book Backlash, Faludi claims that a rise in violence against women in pornography is one sign of the country's backlash against feminism and women - a ludicrous claim given that there was far more rape and violence against women in '70s porn than through 1994. Backlash also reveals Susan's expertise in character assassination, particularly with those with whom she disagrees. She's able to describe or invent telling details about a person's vulnerabilities that will be widely believed. Not one to let facts get in the way of an agenda, Faludi's porn essay repeats the theme of Backlash - that men are threatened by emancipated women and are trying to undo the gains of feminism. Despite the valiant efforts of the magazine's fact checker, Faludi's article is riddled with errors such as the following: 1) That Ginger and Amber Lynn were related. 2) That porn star Dallas makes custom videos for $3-$4,000 and has 100,000 members of her fan club. Rather, Dallas makes custom videos for several hundred dollars and has - at most - a few thousand members of her fan club. 3) Susan fails to mention porn females who committed suicide, including Alex Jordan who offed herself six months after Cal and five months before Susan's publication. 4) Claiming that porn production goes in two directions - the affluent end staffed by companies such as Vivid and VCA who put out "couples porn" and the low end. There's no such thing as couples porn. Men, not women, consume porn. The most respected production company in Porn Valley is John Stagliano's Evil Angel which only puts out pro-am porn. 4) Faludi claims that salaries for men have plunged in the last few years. But they've stayed relatively stable. Since the 1970s, leading men have earned between $200-$550 a day while women earn 50% more. Noting that men largely define themselves through their work, Susan writes that a lack of traditional blue collar jobs drives men into porn as a pathetic attempt to prove their masculinity. But it's a difficult assignment as men in straight porn are only appendages to women. The male performer's job is to get hard, screw the woman and finish off with a cum shot. Those who get anxious, which means most men who try the biz, frequently fail to get it up at the needed time, for the penis is the one muscle you can't intentionally flex. Susan's theory about porn appears early in the essay: "I began to get a glimmer of what the young men of modern porn are struggling to traverse: a treacherous terrain that has more to do with work than sex, more to do with gender identity than genital excitement." Faludi finds that the male wanna-bes are caught in this trap: "The young men's how-I-got-here stories are of a piece. They have all bailed out of sinking occupational worlds that used to confer upon working men a measure of dignity and a masculine mantle but now offer only uncertainty." Faludi argues that porn has become a feminine industry. "For the generations preceding Cal Jammer's, the prevailing system of personal worth was divided between masculine "doing" and feminine "being." Men were applauded for their utility, women for their appearance. Then, suddenly, in the 80s and 90s, ornamental occupations become employment oases." Faludi says that Cal Jammer - real name Randy Potes - seemed happiest when working with his hands - repairing or building sound stages for porn studios, building or remodeling homes for friends, etc... When he could no longer make a living at this, he moved into porn. When he could no longer make a living at this, he blamed women for his problems. Faludi says that "blaming women" is the habit of male porn stars. Bill Margold "We're the last bation of masculinity. The one thing a woman cannot do is ejaculate in the face of her partner . We have that power." Margold fears that the industry, with the rise of cable-ready stylized filmmaking, is falling prey to "the feminization of Hollywood. "Even this business is losing its masculine fibre. We're being absorbed into the mainstream, which terrifies me." Nick East: "The definition of a man is gone... I know I'm nothing. Though most of the world has seen my face, I'm nothing because I didn't DO anything." The one thing the male porn performer must do is become erect. Limp dicks stop production and cost money while everyone sits around waiting for wood. "Waiting for wood" means waiting for the male performer to get erect. Porn is one of the few industries where women make more money as men. With the advent of video, it is now the boxcover that sells the movie, giving greater power to beautiful women. Sometimes they have more power than directors, who used to sit atop the porn production heap. Many of the best female performers sign six figure exclusive contracts with the biggest production companies such as VCA and Vivid. "In the porno chain of command," says porn actor and director Johnathan Morgan, the contract girl "can choose who she wants to f---, where she wants to f---, the script that she wants to f--- in, what day they are going to f---." Faludi: "Unlike top female performers of the '70s, such as Georgina Spelvin and Marilyn Chambers who styled themselves as sexual adventurers, today's contract girls are undressed-for-success career women, making a calculated professional move that will get them into and out of the porn-film industry as quickly as possible and inflate their long-term salaries as exotic dancers. With the explosive growth of table- and lap-dancing stripper clubs, large numbers of dancers have realized that they can quadruple their income by appearing on a few porn box covers. They then become "feature dancers" who return to the circuit to make as much as ten thousand dollars a week." Pornographic movies are going in two directions, claims Susan. One way is led by powerhouse production companies like Vivid, VCA and Metro who produce lavish big budget productions of couples product with beautiful men and women making love in all sorts of exotic places. The rest of porn is nasty, brutish and cheap with hundreds of "producers" running around with handheld videocameras shooting ball-busting anal sex, cum shots, blowjobs, lesbian sex and more kinky material. Self-appointed daddy to porn's girls and boys, Bill Margold, locates his office next to the premier porn talent agency - Jim South's World Modeling on Van Nuys Blvd. Margold likes to keep the lights out when meeting with his porn kids to effect "the feeling of the womb." He also has numerous teddy bears that one can hold. "Of the studs currently working," says Margold, "there's only one who qualifies as a superwoodsman - T.T. Boy. He's the perfect example of the video stud, because as video becomes more and more prolific, the quantity overtakes the quality, and T.T. is capable of knocking them out, one after another." Caballero's senior video editor Bud Swope says "T.T. Boy reflects exactly what that sort of porn is about, where you screw the hell out of a woman and come all over her face. He throws girls around. He pile-drives till they protest. He's just aggression." T.T. Boy: "I was a shy little kid when I started, and now I'm just a guy who wants to f--- the s--- out of all these girls. Just f--- 'em to death." He sends a message to all the girls in the industry with "big egos. You don't want to work with me? I'll beat your boyfriends up and spit in your faces. That's what I think of you bitches, and then I'll kick you in the head." "Like an updated version of the Woody Allen childhood scene under the Coney Island roller coaster, the apartment complex where T.T. Boy lives is situated almost directly beneath an exit ramp of the Ventura Freeway. (Faludi) "The day I visited, a dinner setting for four - plates, bowls, placemats - was arranged on the dining room table. I asked if he was expecting guests. He looked at his shoes and mumbled that he had placed the dishes out there some time ago, he wasn't sure why. "I just thought it looked homey."" In Susan's two hours interview with T.T. Boy, he mainly talked about his break-up with his girlfriend of two years Amy. To keep her, T.T. says he promised her that he'd leave the business. He accompanied her on her first day of work as a massage assistant on a mainstream set. T.T. Boy hoped to get a job with the stunt coordinator. He didn't but all the crew recognized him. "All those hypocrites who watch these movies but think that you're a pile of s---," said T.T. Boy. The next day Amy called from the set crying. Everyone avoided her because they thought she was trash by association with T.T.. Soon Amy broke up with him. T.T. Boy resents that famous female performers can date celebrities, witness Savannah's numerous boyfriends and Ginger Lynn's fling with Charlie Sheen, while male performers are looked on as scum. "While the villains in T.T. Boy's stories are generally women - girlfriends, girlfriends' mothers, girlfriends of girlfriends, porn starlets - the figure who first and forever broke his heart was a man." (Faludi) T.T. Boy doesn't like to talk about his upbringing, but Faludi learned about it from T.T.'s youngest brother, who goes by the name Alex Baldwin. He's a gay porn star and appears on the cover of numerous gay magazines. Dad put T.T. Boy and his younger brother to work early, mining azurite and malachite. By age eight, T.T. broke and carried rocks all day under the hot sun of the California desert town of Baker, near Nevada. T.T. worked in the mines during grammar school, carrying hundred-pound gunnysacks. By junior-high he could repair and operate his father's heavy equipment. T.T. frequently worked until two in the morning. If he slacked off, his father beat him. Dad took T.T. from high school to work 14-16 hours a day, doing such tasks as scouring the insides of cement trucks, where the temperatures reached as high as 150 degrees and the chemicals burned T.T.'s skin. "Nobody worked like I worked," T.T. says. "I was like a robot. He programmed me like a machine." The brothers expected to take over their father's business but his free-spending ways bankrupted the company. Their uncle, an LA bus driver, got them work in porn. In May 1996, T.T. Boy commented on Susan: "She is a feministic bitch. She's hungry [for sex]. She's a good writer. She's got drive but she was a bitch to me." Gay male porn stars make much more money than males performing in straight porn. Ten thousand dollars a movie is common. Jeff Stryker made $40,000 on his third gay flick and he couldn't even get it up. Not then and not on either of his first two gay videos either. While T.T. Boy works the nasty end of porn, Jeff Stryker -his real name is Charles Casper Peyton - is porn's golden boy says Faludi, just one of two men (along with John Holmes) who appears in Leisure Time Product mail-order ad in Penthouse for 200 porn legends. Stryker appears in as many gay videos as straight ones. His image sells videos, magazines, sexual aids, playing cards, greeting cards, calendars, T-shirts, CDs (Wild Buck) and haute couture (designer Thierry Mugler's). The mass-marketed mold of his penis is the number one selling dildo according to Jeff. Stryker lives on a spacious curve of Mulholland Drive. He has a five year old son who's looked after by two nannies. No pornography is allowed in the house, not even cable TV, to keep the child protected from finding out what his dad does for a living. Performer Nick East roomed with Cal Jammer for a time. After Cal's suicide, he was too upset to talk directly about his friend, but like many other men in the business, he blamed Cal's death on women. Nick is another victim of Susan's cutting style, and like T.T. Boy and Ron Jeremy, he still smarts from the sting of paragraphs like the following. "In Nick East's history of gender relations, the golden age is located in the forties and fifties, when "if a man said something, women took him at his word and acted accordingly." The man had a job that lasted and a wage that went further than a weekly run to the A&P. At the center of Nick East's dream of a Happy Valley past is a father who takes care of them all. "Back when my dad was able to support three children and a wife who didn't work and buy a house when he was twenty-three" is how a typical Nick East sentence begins. "What made that possible was that "the workforce was not flooded with females," Nick East said, suddenly angry. "The government tricked our women into working, and women became men."I know I'm nothing. Though most of the world has seen my face, I'm nothing because I didn't do anything." But one day, he plans to make himself "worthy" of recognition; and he'll know that day's arrived "when I'm on talk shows - the next O.J. Simpson, not that I'm going to kill somebody, but the next media sensation." Nick East lent his memoirs overnight to Susan Faludi of the New Yorker. "It turned out to be less an account of a life than a mystical wish fulfillment, in which a "guardian angel" materializes one day as Nick's driving cross country and promises to be his divine guide through life. The angel first appears to a grateful Nick East in the clothes and guise of his father." In 6/96, Nick said: "Susan Faludi didn't understand my book. She crapped on it because she's writer. She was jealous. You can't expect a feminist to understand a man's thoughts. I thought that for the most part, her article was accurate. I just wish she hadn't thrown those jabs at me. I had done nothing to deserve that. "Susan left out a lot of details that would have made sense of what I said. She just left in the more shocking things. She said that I claim that the government tricked American women into working, and that's not what I was saying. I tried to point out that when I was a kid, my dad - with only a highschool education - could afford to have a wife, three kids and buy a house and my mother didn't have to work [outside the home]. Now, in the '90s, that way of life is impossible. Both the man and the woman have to work to get by. That means the work force has doubled and the pay is less. The question Susan Faludi originally asked was "Why do I think so many young women are willing to take their clothes off to make a living?" And I said because they all have to work these days." At the 1995 Adult Video News (AVN) Awards, sex star Tyffany Million sat up front to boo three-time winner John Wayne Bobbitt. His video is the best selling sexvid of the past ten years according to AVN. John Wayne Bobitt: Uncut won for Best Renting tape, Best Selling tape and Best Overall Marketing Plan. "Only in America could a wife beater become a star," hissed Tyffany. At the microphone, John Bobbitt apparently didn't hear her. He concluded his remarks: "I'd like to end with a quote from my friend Andrew Dice Clay (who John met only once). Lorena, here's to you - sucking my dick." John Bobbitt is the big new porn stud. He loves his work and because of the success of his first video, producers will wait for him to get hard. Susan Faludi visited porn star Dallas with her sometimes performing husband Austin McCloud at their house in the San Fernando Valley. She noticed how similar are the homes of porn stars - large rooms that echo from the emptiness, walls without pictures, a marble veneer fireplace without logs, sparse furniture except for one oversized white sectional couch, no book shelves and a giant TV set. Few performers seem to read books. Dallas earns most of the couple's money and that's hard on Austin's ego. He acts as his wife's manager but says that Dallas could do everything he does if she wanted to. At times, like many other boyfriends or husbands of female stars, Austin feels expendable.The two started in porn together and had the idea that Dallas would only perform with him. But that would've limited her career and earning potential. Austin McCloud manages Dallas' fan club which has thousands of members paying a $25 membership fee. Dallas has several 900# lines, a mail-order catalogue hawking clothing and custom made videos ranging from $300 to $5000. She earns most of the couple's money. "Many of the men in this business are "suitcase pimps", to quote Lee Carroll," says Bill Margold. "They live off their women." While porn women can usually wrap men around their little finger, they frequently end up living with and supporting abusive men. "Women with vicious boyfriends use these men to punish themselves for what they're doing," says Margold. "They don't have a high opinion of themselves. Therefore, they'll choose someone who will keep them in that image." Kimberly Kummings played the lead in my video What Women Want. Early in our initial talk she told me that she lived with a bodybuilder boyfriend who knocked her around. A month later, he beat her savagely, bruising her face and figure. In 1989, Cal Jammer bought a condo in Orange County and had his new girlfriend Cameo and her baby move in. Cal wanted her to quit porn and stay at home. He even opposed Cameo going to college. Cal wanted a traditional family but he couldn't make enough money to support one. Cameo found Cal too stifling and ran away back into porn. In 1991, Tyffany Million introduced Jill Kelly to Cal. They married a month after they met at the CES convention in Las Vegas. In a High Society interview with Cal in the August 1993 issue, he called Kelly his "soulmate. I know that love is stronger than anything you can describe. Making love is better than having sex." Adrianne Moore aka Jill Kelly: "We were so much in love. I called him my Poo Poo and he called me Bambi. It was true love." Prior to Cal, Kelly considered herself a total lesbian. "I would have sex with men, but I could only have a real relationship, and real sexual satisfaction with a woman. Randy was the first man I was ever happy with on all levels." Jammer told Kelly he'd quit performing but he lied. "He was the first man I ever trusted," says Jill. "And he lied to me. That's when our marriage started to fall apart." Jill worked as a stripper and made far more money than Cal. She bought the groceries and paid most of the bills, including half of Cal's mortgage. Against Cal's will, Jill got into porn and her career took off as Cal's went limp. Threatened by her success, Jammer frequently couldn't jam on set. Jill recalls that Cal obsessed over his non-performing member, and blamed her entrance into porn for figuratively castrating him. After he beat her up many times, both with words and blows, Jill left Cal. So I Married A Lesbian appeared in 1993. "Frustrated newlywed Cal Jammer seeks help from his buddies because his beautiful wife, Danyel Cheeks, will only have sex with girlfriend Nina Suave. Cal lets beefy brunette Sydney Dance suck his cock before he f---s her in all positions including anal and comes on her plump tummy. Nina Suave slurps on Danyel's slit until Cal interrupts the fun. T.T. Boy and workout client Debi Diamond do it on the Soloflex. Johnathan Morgan eats Kim Chambers before doing her doggie on his desk. Nasty-mouthed Nina has a three-way with Rick Masters and Michael J. Cox that climaxes to a DP. T.T. Boy determines to make Danyel into a cock-lover as he seduces her on the living room floor. Cal Jammer finally makes amends with Danyel and consumates their marriage in the regular way." (AFW 97) Ron Jeremy interviewed Cal in a Paul Norman video and asked him what he would do if his cock stopped working on camera. Cal replied, "I'd kill myself." Jill Kelly: "Randy was a little boy trying to be a man. I couldn't satisfy him, no woman could. We'd get in a fight and I'd say I was going to leave. He would say he was going to kill himself. He had talked about killing me or himself for two years, so I couldn't take him seriously." Randy was randy. "He was a sex addict." Jill describes their marriage as one long conversation about sex. "I love sex," she says, "and Randy loved pussy. So on that level we got along great." Before Jammer ever got into porn he was addicted to sex, going through women and exploring every possible kink. He allowed his sexual impulses to control his life. After Cal's death, a search of his Canyon County condo turned up hundreds of girls' names and phone numbers, scribbled on business cards, cocktail napkins, scraps of paper and notebooks, often with graphic observations attached "Susan - Big Tits", "Old friend Kim - f---ed her already." After Kelly moved out, Cal thought his financial situation was so bad that he'd have to move in with his mother. In reality, his finances were ok. Though he owed the IRS a few thousand dollars, he had that much money stashed around his apartment. Three days before Cal killed himself, Jill called from San Francisco where she was shooting a porno, to tell him their relationship was completely over. Kelly said she was dating someone else - a woman. Cal proposed an open marriage. That didn't work. Then he asked "Can I still f--- you?" The next day he called Jill to say that he was HIV positive. A lie. "He was just saying anything he could think of to get me back, to make me go to him," says Kelly. "We always talked before about how if either of us got AIDS we would stay married and die together." In the last week of his life, Jammer told a neighbor that he "couldn't go on" without his wife. Cal told a girlfriend that "life wasn't worth living" and warned a cameraman "You don't know how close to the edge I am." Nobody took him seriously. Cal Jammer suffered from low self-esteem. He frequently asked "Is my cock big enough?" "Is my tan dark enough?" "Randy was very emotional," remembers Shelby Stevens who worked in the same video as Jammer the day before his death. "Things affected him more than a lot of guys in the buiness, who are just cold. Randy was never cold. When he got hurt he took it more deeply." As long as things went his way, Cal appeared a happy-go-lucky pot smoking surfer dude. But when he felt fame, fortune and f---ing slipping from his life, he despaired. Buck Adams knew Cal and Jill. Cal built much of Buck's place on top of a hill in the San Fernando Valley. "Call could build anything," says Buck. Anything but a life. On January 25, 1995, Cal appeared out of control. Jim South remembers him stopping by World Modeling around 5PM. "He seemed sad, almost teary eyed. I asked him if he was okay. He said in a shaky voice, 'Jim, she's costing me a lot of work.'" A few minutes later, Jammer got up and strode out of the office. South called to him several times but he kept walking. Steering with one hand and dialing his cellular phone with the other, a sobbing Jammer made call after call to Jill, crying "What the f--- are you doing to me?" As his abuse worsened, Kelly hung up on him. Cal called his own home answering machine, leaving a goodbye message. He drove madly, ignoring speed limits and traffic signs. Cal was just a block away from Jill's home in Laurel Canyon when he spoke to Buck Adams: "Why don't you tell me why I shouldn't do anything to my old lady? What I'm thinking is to hurt her and then hurt myself." Buck: "Cal, get this through your thick head. You don't have a right to go over and shoot your girlfriend. You don't have a right to go over and beat her up. You don't have a right to hurt anybody. I mean, if you are so desperate to hurt somebody, go out in the street and hurt yourself." Putting Cal on hold, Buck phoned Jill and told her to drop the phone and run away. Then Buck clicked back to Cal, who said, "Thanks a lot, Buck. I really appreciate the advice." Cal hung up. Jill heard Cal's car pull up outside. She grabbed the remote phone and ran upstairs and hid in the bathtub. Jill heard her phone downstairs ring many times but the cordless phone she had brought with her wasn't charged. After five minutes, she heard a loud pop, as though a window had broken. Jill ran downstairs, looked around, went outside and down the driveway to the steps. She saw Cal lying in the gutter at the bottom of the stairs. Jill was sure it was a joke, just the thing Cal would do to get attention. "Cal, get up," she said with a nervous laugh. "Come on Cal." Then she saw the blood and screamed for help. "I saw his brains. It looked like chewed up hot dogs coming out of the top of his head. His left eye was filling with blood. I dropped my purse and ran to him and felt his pulse. I lifted up his shirt to see if he was breathing and he wasn't.". She dialed 911. "My husband just shot himself in the f---ing head. Please hurry! Please hurry!" Kelly ran back to her brain-dead husband, yelling for help. A group of neighbors gathered around as she knelt by Cal's side. When, at her request, a blanket was placed over Cal to "keep him warm", she lay down in the street next to him in a growing puddle of blood and mud, pulling her coat over him, her arms around him, crying "Randy, Randy, why did you do this? Please don't die." Police found two more bullets on Randy Potes aka Cal Jammer and a suicide note in his front left pocket. The message was scrawled on the back of a sealed First Interstae Bank envelope which contained five one-hundred dollar bills. It read in Randy's childlike writing and spelling: Happy Birthday Big 24 I Allway Love You I sorry we didn't work out Randy Kelly doesn't believe that Jammer was going to kill her. "Randy could've gotten into the house if he wanted to. He knew the side window had no lock on it. You don't write a note and leave a present for a person who you're about to kill." Cal made over 600 videos since entering porn in 1989. He was known as a tireless worker and an excellent set builder and decorator. Randy was universally liked. He was polite with women and worked diligently for his employers. "For all the people in the business who are assholes, Randy was one of the few that wasn't," says Nina Hartley. "Unlike most of the men, he liked women. He seemed to have his s--- together." At Cal's funeral, the minister gave a generic sermon. He obviously knew nothing about Cal Jammer. Most of the men in the audience cried beneath their sunglasses. There was an open coffin, a gruesome sight considering the way Cal died, but everyone knew Cal would've wanted it that way. Outside pornographers talked about men broken by women. They agreed that Jill Kelly was responsible for Cal's death. "That Jill Kelly should be boycotted," someone said and almost everyone agreed. Faludi notes that they conveniently forgot their own responsibility for Cal's death, for the times they had mercilessly teased Cal for inability to perform. Ron Jeremy worked the crowd, telling everyone about his coming HBO special. "It's a big thing," he repeated, "with O.J.'s girlfriend." A few actors tried networking with producers. It seemed that despite the tears, Cal Jammer would soon be forgotten. The male performes had enough problems of their own and they didn't want to think too long about Cal Jammer in case they followed in his footsteps. Cameo talked to Faludi a couple of weeks after the funeral. Cameo said Cal's suicide shocked her. He seemed so self-absorbed that he'd never hurt himself. He was similar in that respect to Savannah. Cameo's eyes widened. She remembered how much publicity Savannah received when she killed herself. Did Cal think he'd also get a lot of attention if he shot himself? If so, he was wrong. Cameo watched the TV show A Current Affair for weeks after Cal's death but there was nothing on Cal. The mainstream media ignored his suicide. "Soon after Cal's death, Jill Kelly was offered money for a photo layout to accompany an article about Cal in a porn magazine. Jill was going to do the job and then turn the check over to Cal's family to help with funeral expenses. But then, she said, she thought better of it. "It wouldn't look right." And besides, she was booked solid for the next month with work. She didn't need the job." (Susan Faludi, New Yorker, 10/30/95) Susan Faludi's essay drew strong responses from the industry. The old guard and those behind the camera generally hated the article while the new guard and those in front of the camera loved it. Porn old timers suspect all outsiders and regard the mainstream media as unlikely to give them a fair shake. Newcomers to the biz came of age when porn was legal and they've experienced it's increasing acceptance. Many persons under forty respect psychology (which fills Susan's article) and parts of feminism, and resent the old boys network that runs porn. Jill Kelly feels particularly pleased with Susan's essay for revealing her side of the Cal Jammer story. Her persecution by fellow members of the biz ended quickly and she's now friends with many of the persons who earlier hated her.
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