George Peppard

Birthday: Oct. 1, 1928.

Birthplace: Detroit.

Current home: Atlanta or Cleveland or wherever my hat hangs.

Marital status: Divorced four times.

Children: Bradford, 33; Julie, 28; and Christian, 20.

Working on: Touring with a one-man show, Papa: The Legendary Lives of Ernest Hemingway, by John deGroot, which should get to Broadway in November.

The book I’ve been recommending lately is: Lonesome Dove, by Larry McMurtry.

Favorite performer: Walter Huston. After seeing The Treasure of the Sierra Madre, I wrote him a fan letter. It came back stamped “Deceased.”

I wish I could stop: Spending so much time being serious.

If I could do it over, I’d: Have spent more play time with my children.

I’d give anything to meet: My perfect woman. She’d have a great sense of humor, patience and sensitivity and be in good physical shape.

I tried to teach my children: That hard work is more important than talent.

If I could change one thing about myself, I would be: Rather charming.

My most irrational act: I had a bunch of them when I was drinking, but I can’t remember them. It’s pretty irrational to drink until you can’t remember what you’ve done.

The worst time of my life: I once swallowed a toothpick and got peritonitis. The doctors told me the constant pain was worse than that of childbirth.

My most humbling experience: I was feeling very sorry for myself because I got a B in acting class when I was in school at Carnegie-Mellon, so I went to my professor and said, “If this is the best I can do, maybe I shouldn’t be an actor.” And he said, “Well, George, maybe you shouldn’t.”

The one thing everybody’s tried but me is: That’s a tough one. I’m high on the list for trying things.