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I needed to run away in order to come home.

As a kid, I was just led out in the morning to go spend my day with my friends and just run in the woods. And I'd only come home to eat or when I was thirsty.

One of the reasons I got really fat when I left home was because I thought rich people ate white bread and Spam. I also thought they could get processed meals, because we never did, so that was exciting.

When I was 17, I decided I was going to leave home.

I went back to work because someone had to pay for the groceries.

I was hungry a coupla' times but for the most part I ate every day... I got to go to school for free.

It was a real hand-to-mouth existence in those early days - I'd have whatever dry cereal there was in the house for breakfast, 30 cents to spend on lunch and a hot dog for dinner. I did that for years. So there was definitely a hunger in me, of various kinds, to succeed.

In the mind, in the heart, I was always home. I always imagined, really, going back home.