I worked with my son when he was much younger; we did L.A. Law together, where I played his father and he played a kid who was suing his father for alienation of affection or something. It was great.
The first thing, when I got the money, I knew I would support somebody. And the person I supported was my family. Because we were really in debt with the money. And - so I gave to my father this suitcase full of money. And he couldn't believe it. And that was something very special.
Our Father's commitment to us, His children, is unwavering. Indeed He softens the winters of our lives, but He also brightens our summers.
I started working out with my father the summer I was 13, which was incredible for our relationship. Those were my summers: working out with my dad, hanging out with my brothers, riding my bike. Pretty simple.
My father was invited to play on a television show when I was 17 or 18 that was an early equivalent of educational television, a Sunday afternoon kind of variety art show.
My father would play Stevie Wonder in the car, but that never sunk in.
Until I was two, my mother supplemented her welfare payments by cleaning houses and waitressing. My father didn't help.
My father was an officer in the Army, and my grandfather served in World War II, and I am so proud of their service. I'll always do whatever I can to support our troops.
My father is definitely not the kind of guy who'd place his children in key roles within his organization if he didn't think we could surpass the expectations he had for us.
The most surprising thing for my mother and father was when I was actually earning more money than them by the time I was about 18. They thought I was going to be the ne'er do well, who they'd have to keep worrying about.
I come from a home where my mother was the only emotional umbrella under which we found all the warmth and comforts and sustenance. My father would come and go, and not as often as we'd want him to.
I'm an only child. Mostly raised by my father outside of Saratoga, doing martial arts and snowmobiling. I wore sweaters, jeans and sneakers. I was more interested in four-wheeling in the Catskills than doing my hair and makeup at 7 A.M. before school.
My father is Swedish and my mother is French.
My father was a swim teacher. We used to swim before school, swim after school.
When I got back to my father and mother and was sitting up there in our tepee, my face was still all puffed and my legs and arms were badly swollen; but I felt good all over and wanted to get right up and run around.
My father, once he has decided on something, doesn't care about what anyone else thinks. All the men in our family swore at him for training us. His parents said he was mad. But he didn't listen.
What made me this way was watching my father go through bad employment experiences. When I was 17, and he was 65, I saw him go through the experiences working for a boss that was rude and obnoxious. I swore if I was ever had the capacity to run a company that I would do it in a different way.
I was raised in an observant Jewish household, so for me, Hebrew prayers - the sounds, the sunlight streaming in from the stained-glass windows of a synagogue - bring my father back to me as surely as if he were sitting next to me, my head pressed against his shoulder.
My father was one of 11. He was an attorney. My mother worked for the Syracuse newspaper as a columnist before she became a stay-at-home mother.
I think both of my parents are unique in the way they don't live their lives as celebrities. They're both artists, first and foremost. My mom lives a very private life. So does my father. You don't really see them in the tabloids or anything like that. I think that's definitely a decision you can make.
