When I was about five my dad built a stage for me in our basement. A full stage, with a curtain, a backdrop and a dressing room. There were three colored spotlights - a red one, a white one, and a blue one. Blue was for nighttime scenes, and red was for when we were in hell. If the neighborhood kids wanted to use the stage, they had to incorporate me into the play.

I was always in disguise. I'd wear masks or weird get-ups so you couldn't recognize me. I was always afraid that if somebody caught on that it was me, I'd never work again.

I wouldn't sell my bike for all the money in the world. Not for a hundred million, trillion, billion dollars!

When I was about five my dad built a stage for me in our basement. A full stage, with a curtain, a backdrop and a dressing room. There were three colored spotlights - a red one, a white one, and a blue one. Blue was for nighttime scenes, and red was for when we were in hell. If the neighborhood kids wanted to use the stage, they had to incorporate me into the play.

The public already knows about me more than I ever wanted it to know.

You'd get on the plane; and every single person is somebody really, really famous. It just killed me. On one flight you'd have Linda Gray, O.J. Simpson, Robert De Niro, Carol Burnett, Loni Anderson and Burt Reynolds... and Francis Ford Coppola.

I'm fortunately not in a situation where someone owns me.