I was an adopted child of my grandparents, and I don't know how I can ever express my gratitude for that, because my parents would have been a mess, you know.
I was as content Off-Broadway as I was in a big Hollywood movie, and, I just try to be content wherever I am, you know.
I was preparing myself for the theater, and... I got a little job here and a job there, but it wasn't going well, and I considered some time before the mid-60s that maybe I should consider something else.
It has to be real, and I think a lot of the problems we have as a society is because we don't acknowledge that family is important, and it has to be people who are present, you know, and mothers and fathers, both are not present enough with children.
One day, my youngest uncle - the other one who was first to go to college, Randy - and I were sitting out on the front porch. And he was brilliant. He ended up - he just retired from Boeing Aircraft in Wichita, Kansas.
My grandmother had the most dramatic effect on my life because she set me in one direction, and I had to go back the other direction for my sanity, and for my ability to be a social human being.
My grandmother though, began to prepare in her own neurotic - and I think psychotic - way to face racism. So she taught us to be racist, which is something I had to undo later when I got to Michigan, you know.
My youngest uncle Randy and I were the first members of our entire family to ever go to college.
Once you begin to explain or excuse all events on racial grounds, you begin to indulge in the perilous mythology of race.
In the wintertime, in the snow country, citrus fruit was so rare, and if you got one, it was better than ambrosia.
No one asked me to be an actor, so no one owed me. There was no entitlement.