Up Till Now. The Autobiography

the people I’ve known, and all the women of my life. She gets to experience both the good and the bad, and fortunately there’s a lot more good than bad now. I hope. I like to believe I’ve raised the quality of my ability to relate to other people; it’s not that I was a terrible person but admittedly almost always I put my responsibilities ahead of the relationship. I could justify it in my mind; my career financed the relationship. But I’ve learned; oh I’ve learned.
    Elizabeth is a strong, independent woman—and a very talented one. She was a wonderful trainer, and the energy that once went into that now goes into our life together and her painting. She’s discovered her creative talents. And because she brought with her into our marriage her confidence and her pride, I know that when Elizabeth sacrifices herself in an argument to come over to my side, which she does much of the time, she’s not doing it from weakness, but rather from love. And that matters.
    And we do have our arguments. But there is one argument that does rise above the others. Now, there are certain invitations a man receives in his life that he just doesn’t turn down. I was invited to flyin an F-16. How could I turn that down? I was allowed to ride along in the back of a police cruiser. There was no way I could turn that down. I was asked to dance with a killer whale. Of course I couldn’t turn that down.
    And then I was invited by Playboy to photograph a naked Playmate. Now, really, was I going to turn that down? Did I dare risk being known forever as William Shatner, the only guy in history who turned down the opportunity to photograph a beautiful naked Playmate? There was really only one problem with the offer: I knew Elizabeth would ask me not to do it. If I insisted it would lead to an argument and I certainly didn’t want to have that argument. So given the circumstances and loving my wife very much and not wanting to have an argument I did the only realistic thing possible: I didn’t tell her about it.
    This was one of the most difficult decisions I’d been forced to make in many years. Truthfully, it didn’t seem like a good idea at the time. I admit it—I don’t know what I was thinking. This photograph was going to appear in Playboy, a magazine with one of the largest circulations in the world. They were going to promote the fact that I took the shots. I didn’t believe for a moment that Liz wouldn’t find out about it. Instead I figured, well, I’ll just mention it to her when it’s about to come out. After I’d photographed the beautiful naked Playmate.
    Every married man understands this. And agrees with me. Would I have objected to Liz photographing a naked Playmate? Of course not, I’d probably even want to go with her to the shoot to be supportive. Actually I was completely innocent. My concept was that rather than simply photographing a beautiful, completely naked Playmate alone, I would use a wide-angle lens and include in the picture all the technical people required to make this completely naked Playmate look as sexy as possible. I’d include lighting people, assistants, makeup people, costume peo... well, there wouldn’t be any costume people in this particular shot, as the beautiful Playmate would be naked. But I would show the viewer all the people required to make this hot work. Shot work, make this shot work. Liz couldn’treally object, I was never going to be alone with the naked Playmate. It was very technical, just work. So I did it and I didn’t tell her.
    As months went by I expected to be notified by Playboy when my photographs were going to be published. But I didn’t hear a word. That was actually fine with me; I’d already taken the photographs. If they weren’t published and I never had to just sort of casually mention it to Elizabeth, I could live with that. But one morning I was in New York and I appeared on Barbara Walters’s wonderful program (that I hope she has me on again to promote this book), The View . Liz was waiting for me in the guest room, the green room. And so I was very surprised when Joy Behar asked me, “So what does your wife think about you doing a Playboy bunny shoot?”
    Apparently my photographs were being shown on Playboy’s Web site. I hadn’t known anything about it. But thinking quickly, proving my ability to respond to a crisis, I said smartly, “Oh, she didn’t worry about that. She’s far more beautiful than any of the Playboy bunnies.”