My mother was the total influence. My father was what we call a nomadic person; he was a wanderer.

My father was a good man, but he was a con man. He was a wanderer, nomadic.

My father was never around. It was almost as if he didn't exist. I would tell my friends he was in Cleveland, on business. Sometimes, every six months or so, he would come by for dinner.

My father never saw me play ball, and I was an outstanding ballplayer. I missed all that adoration.

I used to make up stories about my father. I would go to the movies and look for a character who looked like my father.

I don't know anyone who curses the way they do on the Sopranos. Not in an Italian household. I never said the word hell in front of my mother.