Mom was 50 when my Dad died. She got on a bus every weekday for years, and rode 40 miles each morning to Madison. She earned a new degree and learned new skills to start her small business. It wasn’t just a new livelihood. It was a new life. less than 1 minute read
My Dad, a small-town lawyer, was also named Paul. Until we lost him when I was 16, he was a gentle presence in my life. I like to think he’d be proud of me and my sister and brothers, because I’m sure proud of him and of where I come from, Janesville, Wisconsin. less than 1 minute read
I’m a dad, I’m a husband, I’m an activist, I’m a writer and I’m just a student of the world. less than 1 minute read
I don’t think I could live without hair, makeup and styling, let alone be the performer I am. I am a glamour girl through and through. I believe in the glamorous life and I live one. less than 1 minute read
I asked my daughter when she was 16, What’s the buzz on the street with the kids? She’s going, to be honest, Dad, most of my friends aren’t into Kiss. But they’ve all been told that it’s the greatest show on Earth. less than 1 minute read
I have never been jealous. Not even when my dad finished fifth grade a year before I did. less than 1 minute read
There is nothing that would upset me more than my dad being bribed by the press. It’s like, ‘Just let them run it, then. Don’t you give them ammunition.’ less than 1 minute read
My dad became a soap opera actor, and I was an extra in a skating rink scene on the soap. I didn’t audition. It was nepotism all the way. less than 1 minute read
