Chapter 1

I was born in Carbondale, Illinois, which is a town called Carbondale located, as it happened at the time, in Illinois. Later on, by coincidence, when my brother was born there (since he was born after me, our parents decided to assign him the role of "younger brother"), it was still called Carbondale and still in Illinois. As you may be aware, there is also a Carbondale in Pennsylvania, but I was not born there and neither, by coincidence, was my brother.

My earliest memory is of the Yankees winning the 1958 World Series. Since I was not born until 1962, this is a very early memory indeed. (It is also possible that the Yankees lost the '58 Series — I would not give too much weight to the account of a child that young.)

Much of my early life was spent in fantasizing about being a movie star. Many's the time I heard my parents say, "Hugo, please stop fantasizing about being a movie star and come to the table." Little did they realize that one can also fantasize about being a movie star while at the table. They sure had to smile when they saw the way things turned out. I grew up, left home, headed for California and soon had my own table.

Chapter 2

As a youngster, I enjoyed school. But what I enjoyed even more was walking to school. It didn't even have to be my own school. On Saturdays, I would walk in the general direction of practically any school in town — I wasn't particular. One time I walked all the way to what I thought was the neighboring suburb's high school, only to discover that it was really an office complex. Needless to say, I had to start over.

Well, different individuals are different (that's why they call them "different" individuals), and my best friend preferred to swim to school. This was less practical (we were nowhere near a river); on the other hand, people were generally more impressed. In fact, the acclaim earned by my buddy on this score brought him great recognition later in life. I won't tell you his name, but if I did you'd know it -- because I'd have told it to you.

My other chief interest at this point was in a girl whose name I don't remember, with whom I used to walk in a park (I can't recall which one, alas) and converse sweetly about who knows what. Ah yes, these are the fond childhood memories that stay with one forever!

Chapter 3

I think I've mentioned in an earlier chapter that I wanted to be a movie star when I was young. A young movie star. As the years passed, of course, I outgrew this childish fantasy and turned my aspirations to something more appropriate to someone slightly older — namely, being a slightly older movie star.

But I also had another hobby (if only to kill time until my first big film offer came through). From an early age, I found towels to be an especially absorbing subject, and by the time I was ten I could distinguish between a solid-colored bath-towel and a striped washcloth with the merest of glances. And back again. In those days, once you got me started on the subject, I would be sure to talk for a minimum of 30 minutes about the finer points of towel identification in the field. I don't mean to give the impression that I was a crashing young bore... but I was.

I think I mentioned in an earlier paragraph that I wanted to be a movie star when I was young. Yes? Good.

My budding career as an actor took a dramatic turn one day during a momentous exchange with my brother. (I exchanged places with my brother, since he was tired of having the top bunk.) As we moved the beds around, I was thinking out loud about my plans.

"You know, Dale" (my brother's name was not, in fact, Dale, but I found it too distracting to say "Alexander" when I was deep in thought), "Maybe I should try to make my own motion picture star vehicle right here, in our town, using my own ideas."

"8 times 4 is 32, minus 3 inches leaves 29," said Alexander, who was busy calculating which side of the room to move his dresser to.

"Yeah, you've got a point," I acceded. And so I resolved to just bide my time until I could encounter Hollywood in an appropriate context, such as southern California.

Chapter 4

By the time I was 12, I couldn't wait any longer. I had tried unsuccessfully to persuade my parents to pack up shop and move the business out to California; but they had patiently explained to me that they were vice-chancellors of a large state university, and that it would be problematic to move a state university to an entirely different state.

Clearly, there was only one thing to be done, and I did it. Yes, I built my own California, right there in my bedroom (with my brother's consent, of course). And once I got the hang of making the yarn fall in just the right shape of coastline (it's all in the wrist), I found that it was a lot easier to make a California than one might suspect. If you're planning to make a California in your own home, I suggest you follow these easy steps:

1) Get yourself some yarn. I recommend "Pacific Blue."

2) Borrow your brother's road atlas. If you don't have a brother, a standard topographical map will do.

3) Pick your homework up off the floor. If your homework isn't finished, you might want to finish it.

4) Lay down the yarn in the shape of California. Use carpet tacks to affix it. If you don't have a brother, industrial staples will do.

5) Put on sunglasses.

Chapter 5

At a certain point in my young life, I had to ask myself how important this fantasy of becoming a Hollywood actor really was to me. All along, I'd taken it for granted that this was my guiding career dream (or GCD, as we say in the fantasy biz). But now it was time to evaluate it in a more critical light, to actually sit myself down and look at the thing realistically.

I ushered myself into the den, and offered myself a seat. "Thanks," I said to the empty room.

"Hugo," I said to myself, "Are you really serious about becoming a Hollywood actor?"

"That's funny," I replied. "I was just about to ask you the same thing."