Young readers might know Vincent Price from TV and old horror movies but they are not about to line up for his autobiography. That's just as well, for this is nothing more than a ticking-off of credentials. Price cites his lineage (American for 13 generations), his art appreciation (he bought what he admired, ""not to make a buck""), his interest in food (he's ""had many cooking articles published in national magazines""), his famous friends, and his love for acting which has resulted in over 75 plays and ""many more than 100 films under my belt."" The suave studio publicity photos from the Forties and thereabouts could only work as parodies in the Seventies. It won't play--nor is there any reason why it should.