When I was growing up in north-west London, our milkman's cart was pulled by a horse, and cattle still grazed on the meadows near Church Farm.

At school, I never had a hold on English history, and cheder was a place run by sadistic incompetents, so I felt alienated from the Jewish part of my past.

This was the wonder of advertising; the complete absence of cynicism. It may have many mansions, but it has no room for Doubting Thomases.

My own zigzag path through life led me back to Santa Cruz in the early Eighties, and I have revisited regularly since. The place hasn't changed: head in the clouds, backside on the hills and feet in the ocean - one of the most decent and beautiful places on earth.

What I said was that Joe's family was different than my family, that he came from a very affectionate family. My family was very loving, but we didn't show that kind of affection. So for me, that took me a little while to get used to that.

Years go by, but the heart of what we all fight and die for at the core is the same. We fight and die for love and our family and our land and for what's ours. We do things for something as simple as pride.

My kids have moved more in their twenties, you know, than my parents have moved in nearly 40-something years of marriage before they died. So there's a part of me that laments what we have lost, and that is a sense of community.

I follow the faith of all religions. My mother gave me abundant love when I was a child. She taught me the ways to lead life, and I have been a firm believer in all religions since then.