The Selling of Michael Modzelewski, man of every woman's dreams
(Michael hates this title: "I'm far from that!", but alas, that was how it appeared in print)

by: Barbara Szerlip

When COSMOPOLITAN MAGAZINE EDITOR Lisa Simmons phoned at 7 a.m. with the news that he'd been chosen Bachelor of the Month, Michael Modzelewski thought it was a prank. Simmons gave him her Manhattan office number and suggested he call her back, to convince him. She also suggested he get a post office box and an unlisted phone number ASAP, because his life was about to change.

Modzelewski, author of Inside Passage: Living With Killer Whales, Bald Eagles, and Kwakiutl Indians (Harper and Collins), is a freelance journalist and editorial consultant who lives in the Bay Area. His name was submitted to Cosmo by a relationship counselor whose book manuscript he edited. "Michael," she wrote, "is the embodiment of the 90's man--he's into the environment, takes better care of his body than his BMW, and by virtue of hi life experiences, would undoubtedly bring more into a woman's life than she could dare dream of!" Modzelewski's publicist at Harper Collins encouraged him to cooperate. Cosmo, she informed him, has three million female subscribers between the ages of 18 and 34, and in the United States women buy the majority of books.

Modzelewski's 1 3/4 by 2-inch photo ran in the November 1991 issue, along with an equally modest block of text at the bottom of a page crowded with photos and news bytes. "There's so much magic out there," Cosmo quotes Modzelewski, :I'd love to share it with someone." It says he trekked the African veldt, swam with killer whales, and ran a marathon on China's Great Wall.

By mid-December, Modzelewski had received over 3,000 letters, some of them 12 pages long, as well as long-stemmed roses, silk boxer shorts, and jewelry.

"The first letter I open is from a former Playboy Bunny who's done 20 national TV commercials and attended seven different chef schools," he says. "Now she works for the airlines, and says, 'Why don't we fly to Aruba for lunch? We can fly anywhere for free. Want to go to Rome tomorrow?' The second letter I open is from a prisoner who's been incarcerated in Florida since 1981. Didn't say why. She gets out in three months and wants to come visit. Then there's a prima ballerina in Seattle who's danced for 19 years. She's about to hang up the slippers. We had this wonderful talk on the phone about legs and conditioning and bodies. I might fly up to see her last performance.

"I've heard from waitresses at truck stops in St. Louis. Park rangers from North Dakota. A lot of anthropologists, for some reason. A mother wrote me about her daughter, who's stationed at Travis Air Force Base: 'If you'd like to take a lovely girl to dinner, please call or write Lieutenant Commander Jane....' I have a Fatal Attraction situation with a high-powered executive from Canada. Every day I get a fax, phone call, and letter. I'm not exaggerating. She even tracked me down in England when I was there promoting my book. She started sending me R-rated fantasies, but lately they've become X-rated. At one point, I said, 'Look what if I'm a serial killer?' And without missing a beat, she said, 'Then I'll die happy.'

"Ninety percent of the letters start out, 'I can't believe I'm doing this. I've never ever done anything like this before in my life. A girlfriend showed me the magazine. I never read it...' But the ones that start that way always end up very, very risqué." There's more, much more. A travel agent wrote from Thailand to say she'd come visit and give new meaning to the word 'layover'. An L.A. film producer promised to blow his sock off.

Many of these missives are written in pink or purple ink on blue-lined, three-hole punched loose-leaf paper, though the more creative invest in doilies or stationary printed with hearts, flowers, or rainbows. Often, the pages have been heavily doused in perfume, the envelopes sealed with a lipstick kiss.

His friend Lenore Tuttle says, "Michael was angry when he first found out that his name had been submitted. But Cosmo told him to try and enjoy it. Of all the men I know, he's far better prepared than most. He's old enough. He's worldly, well-read, and a gentleman. But he also has a naive side. He really didn't realize what would happen, or how brazen those women could be. And he's still listed in the phone book!"

Modzelewski admits it's crazy. "I really thought I would receive just a few letters. The most ever received was 5,500, and the editors are placing bets that I'll break the record," he says, because he's not their typical doctor, lawyer, or fireman. Modzelewski plans to send a personal note to each of his fans; so far, he's managed 500. Most are "astounded" to hear from him.

"It's all a fantasy, a projection onto me." Still, when the ladies show up to meet him, flying in from L.A., Atlanta, Tennessee, Toronto at their own expense, he tries not to disappoint them.

His first Cosmo date was with a 19-year-old former Miss Teen California. "Simply adorable, that was my first reaction to your picture," she wrote to the 38-year-old writer. "I'm very down to earth with high morals. I like my man the same. I live to fulfill my fantasies and to find new ones."

His first out of state visitor was a former Miss Memphis, whose credentials include eight (eight!) dates with John F. Kennedy Jr. She read Modzelewski's book, wrote him a 22-page letter ( purple ink), sent photos of herself in a bikini and sunglasses, followed by faxes and copies of her resume, and press kit. After several phone calls, she started sending love poetry. Michael invited her for a weekend. As with all out-of-towners to follow, Miss Memphis never thought to ask her host to make a hotel reservation for her. That first evening, when he proposed setting her up in his room while he slept in a sleeping bag in the living room, "she batted her big brown eyes about six times, and then with a honey-dripping Southern accent said, 'Michael, I didn't fly 3,000 miles to sleep all by myself."

Cosmo date number three was with an exotic, blond Persian fond of phoning Modzelewski late at night to share elaborate sexual fantasies. She flew into San Francisco with a suitcase of high heels, lingerie, blindfolds, and silk ties. "Her wish list," Michael recalls, "included a fireplace, chocolate covered strawberries, Hershey's chocolate sauce, and I had to do a striptease...she was very specific. She said, 'The first night, I'm in control. The second night is your night. Sunday is open season.'"

Date number four was with a tall, gorgeous psychic, "a spiritual high priestess," who knew from Modzelewski's photograph that he was a kindred spirit whose totem was the eagle.

"I was having visions with my eyes open. It was very intense," he says. But intense would be a natural by-product for someone who claims she can short out electrical equipment with extraterrestrials. Modzelewski, who himself has a spiritual bent, doesn't seem to find this completely outside the realm of possibility.

"One thing I've learned - and this applies to men as well as women - is that people are starved, absolutely starved, for romance," notes the twice married Modzelewski. "The biggest complaint I've heard from women, over and over, is that most men don't know how to listen. If they are listening, it's only to find an opening to put their own ego back into the conversation, to dominate and control. In fact, that's one of the Cosmo Tips: 'When you go out and want the guy to be interested in you, get him to talk about his life! But if you're successful, play that down.' That's bullshit!

"The male ego is a horrible thing. It keeps you trapped from so much in life, and to get over it is very, very hard. Men don't even speak the language women want to hear, which is talking about emotions. I love that. That's where you learn, that's what we're really here for."

Modzelewski's Inside Passage is an introspective tale about the 18 months he spent mostly alone in the wilderness of British Columbia. After reading it, a woman in Minnesota wrote him. "She was so in love with me that it was beyond belief! 'The way men in northern Minnesota relate to nature,' she said, 'is cut it down, stuff it. They're complete Neanderthals.' She was blown away by the fact that I could go off into the wilderness and have sensitive feelings."

Most of his male friends are envious, convinced he's living the ultimate male fantasy. Not only does he have a vast and varied harem, they say, but he doesn't even have to lift a finger. The women come to him. Modzelewski, however, is offended at the prospect of becoming, or being taken for, a womanizer. "I'm a very physical person, but I'm also very selective," he insists. "To me, the physical act means nothing unless there's an attachment in the head and in the spirit."

A high-powered male executive recently offered Modzelewski $1,000 if he would tell him exactly how to go about becoming a Cosmo Bachelor of the Month. Michael's response, that he hadn't sought the honor, was not kindly received.

"I don't take all this attention personally," he continues. "That might sound weird, but it's like this is all happening to my twin brother. I've been a Zen Buddhist for the last 12 years, and I try to maintain a degree of detachment with everything I do.

"My dilemma now is that I feel like a kid in a candy shop. There are so many sweets to pick from! There's the danger, the addiction to what's going to be in tomorrow's mail. From this whole experience, I could either find one person I know I want to be with, or this could totally corrupt me in that I'll have relationships with maybe six or seven women. Fly all over the world with Suzanne. Have lusty sexual weekends with the exotic Persian. Develop my soul with the psychic."

Recently Modzelewski was auctioned off at the March of Dimes' annual "Bid for Bachelors" fund-raiser at the St. Francis Hotel and he pulled in the evening's highest bid over 29 other tuxedo-clad contenders. He raised more than $900 by promising three nights on an upcoming Cabo San Lucas package date.

One of the nature writer's current projects is playing himself in a documentary based on Inside Passage. And lest things get boring, he has recently agreed to pose as the centerfold - fully clothed - for Alaska Men, an international publication that caters to women looking for men whom to correspond. "I only agreed on the condition that at least half the copy be about Inside Passage," Modzelewski notes. The editor promised. She also promised him another 1000 letters a day.