From the author's preface: A publisher's representative recently gave a sure-fire formula for the success of any book. Book-signing tours and cocktail parties for critics were becoming passé, he said. They were too expensive and no longer that effective. Any book would almost sell itself, he added, as long as it was based on one of these subjects: SEX, GOD, DOGS, ABRAHAM LINCOLN. Though this one will at least touch on the first three, I have not yet figured on how to bring in our 16th President. It is the story of a little boy - me - who lived a rich theatrical life on suburban stages, minor radio stations and in his own imagination, then became a professional actor at the age of twelve. As of now my career has not completely subsided, but let the first 72 years suffice. There is a certain fascination attached to anyone who has the guts - or the gall - to deliberately get up on a stage or in front of a camera and pretend to be someone else, and to apparently enjoy it. Though Arthur Anderson will never be a household name, I can claim to have been performing professionally since 1935, making a living - sometimes a very good one - and in that time I've had some joyful experiences, some depressing ones, and have worked with many fascinating people - and a few rotters. But in their own way they were fascinating, too.