This, my new book, is an archeological-autobiographical dig both on and off the stage into the life and mind of a now eighty-seven-year-old actor, writer, father, grandfather, ex-husband, former lover, humorist, and long-time-sober alcoholic’s thrust into and through the present-day human experience. - Not a confessional, but stories of human vulnerability abound.If you’ve been moved in some unique way by the vibration of a lone cello playing something Bach, or Walt Whitman’s poem, Song of Myself – Have laughed at Moms Mabley talking about “old men.” – The wit of Dorothy Parker, George Carlin, and Mark Twain – If you’ve ever been swept away by the music of George Gershwin, Puccini, Jule Styne’s overture to the musical Gypsy, and Stephen Sondheim’s words and music – Fascinated by the mind of Nicola Tesla – Transported by Miguel de Cervantes, “Enter into my imagination” – Or, William Blake in seeing “...a world in a grain of sand and a heaven in a wildflower...” – Bedazzled by Gabriel Garcia Marquez’s A Hundred Years of Solitude, (traveling dream-like back and forth through generations) – If you’ve wondered at the art of Vincent van Gogh, Salvatore Dali, M.C. Escher, and perhaps identified with Edward Hopper’s loneliness in his painting, Nighthawks – Are open to the concept of non-local connections (Quantum Entanglement), if so, by any or all of these, you might come live with me in, Where Possums Dance and the Willow Sings – The full title of which is, "To Soar Aloft on Butterfly Wings, Where Possums Dance and the Willow Sings" - off to the Nearside of the Moon to see Himself, who I Believe to Be, Me.