A heartfelt memoir from one of Hollywood's greatest icons Dick Van Dyke, indisputably one of the greats of the golden age of television, is admired and beloved by audiences the world over for his beaming smile, his physical dexterity, his impeccable comic timing, his ridiculous stunts, and his unforgettable screen roles.             His trailblazing television program, The Dick Van Dyke Show (produced by Carl Reiner, who has written the foreword to this memoir), was one of the most popular sitcoms of the 1960s and introduced another major television star, Mary Tyler Moore. But Dick Van Dyke was also an enormously engaging movie star whose films, including Mary Poppins and Chitty Chitty Bang Bang , have been discovered by a new generation of fans and are as beloved today as they were when they first appeared.             A colorful, loving, richly detailed look at the decades of a multilayered life, My Lucky Life In and Out of Show Business, will enthrall every generation of reader, from baby-boomers who recall when Rob Petrie became a household name, to all those still enchanted by Bert’s “Chim Chim Cher-ee.” This is a lively, heartwarming memoir of a performer who still thinks of himself as a “simple song-and-dance man,” but who is, in every sense of the word, a classic entertainer. “In my opinion, ‘Luck’ has little to do with Dick Van Dyke’s life. It is, rather, his innate kindness and talent that have had an extraordinary effect in shaping the man. And what a fascinating self-portrait he’s given us in this book.” —Mary Tyler Moore   “From the time I worked with Dick on the movie Bye Bye Birdie, I have admired his many talents, not the least of which is the joy and enthusiasm he shares with audiences.  I’m a big fan of his . . . and his book.” —Ann-Margret “Van Dyke tells a wonderful story about himself and his times.  And—in an often surprsingly relevant manner—our times. We’ve always liked the performer—it’s hard not to like Dick Van Dyke—but this will will make you admire him.” — Playbill DICK VAN DYKE was born in West Plains, Missouri, in 1925. He is an internationally recognized and accomplished performer, and has been a recipient of the Theatre World Award, a Tony, a Grammy, and four Emmy awards. He lives in California. Chapter 1 STEP IN TIME It was nighttime, February 1943, and I was standing next to my mother, thinking about the war in Europe. I had a very good relationship with my mother, so there's no need for any psychoanalysis about why I was thinking of the war. The fact was, we had finished dinner and she was washing the dishes and I was drying them, as was our routine. My father, a traveling salesman, was on the road, and my younger brother, Jerry, had run off to play. We lived in Danville, Illinois, which was about as far away from the war as you could get. Danville was a small town in the heartland of America, and it felt very much like the heartland. It was quiet and neighborly, a place where there was a rich side of town and a poor side, but not a bad side. The streets were brick. The homes were built in the early 1900s. Everybody had a backyard; most were small but none had fences. People left their doors open and their lights on, even when they went out. Occasionally someone down on their luck would knock on the back door and my mother would give him something to eat. Sometimes she would give him an odd job to do, too. I had things on my mind that night. You could tell from the way I looked out the kitchen window as I did my part of the dishes. I stood six feet one inch and weighed 130 pounds, if that. I was a tall drink of water, as my grandmother said. "I'm going to be eighteen in March," I said. "That means I'll be up for the draft. I really don't want to go-and I really don't want to be in the infantry. So I'm thinking that I ought to join now and try to get in the Air Force." My mother let the dish she was washing slide back into the soapy water and dried her hands. She turned to me, a serious look on her face. "I have something to tell you," she said. "Yeah?" "You're already eighteen," she said. My jaw dropped. I was shocked. "But how-" "You were born a little premature," she explained. "You didn't have any fingernails. And there were a few other complications." "Complications?" I said. "Don't worry, you're fine now," she said, smiling. "But we just put your birth date forward to what would have been full term." I wanted to know more than she was willing to reveal, so I turned to another source, my Grandmother Van Dyke. My grandparents on both sides lived nearby, but Grandmother Van Dyke was the most straightforward of the bunch. I stopped by her house one day after school and asked what she remembered about the complications that resulted from my premature birth. She looked like she wanted to say "bullshit." She asked who had sold me a bill of goods. "My mother," I replied. "You weren't premature," she said. "I wasn't?" "You were con