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My dad was a big car guy. If you wanted to spend time with my dad, he was working on the car.

In high school, all my friends' older brothers had these cars. I had a number of friends whose brothers collected Dodges and Plymouths and some of the coolest cars I've ever seen when I was a kid. I was just flabbergasted.

Growing up in the Sacramento Valley in the '70s, we were all pretty big into cars. Of course, I had to nerd out and be a fan of Bob Tullius' Group 44 Jaguars instead of Corvettes/Camaros.

I was a young boy. A stock car guy used to live across the street from us. He'd work on his car, and both of my older brothers became gearheads.

I grew up on a dirt road with brothers.

My uncles, who are farmers in Minooka, Illinois - I grew up with them and their pickup trucks and mustaches, and to me that was masculinity: big hairy sweaty guys who could pick up a bus.

Even when I was little, I was big.

I have a bunch of brothers. I grew up with a big family.

I could never drive in a great big car; people like me because I'm a man of the people, a hustler.

I wasn't a big guy. People thought the big guys would eat me up. But it was the other way around. I loved to fight bigger guys.