Five years ago, a concrete plug, a little bigger than a baseball, fell off a building on Hollywood Boulevard when I was riding in an open convertible. It shattered the windshield. It really shook me. I still have it on my mantel.

In 2006, I went fishing for red snapper in the Gulf of Mexico. On the way back, one of the engines caught fire and then we had one engine for 70 miles. Slowly but surely, we got to Baton Rouge in the darkness but then got very close to a very large passing ship – they didn’t see us and we didn’t see them.

In 1989, in Cuba, about to board a plane for Milan, where I was going to school for a year. The visa didn’t arrive in time, so I couldn’t board. The plane crashed and people died.

On a flight between Beijing and London with Team GB divers. There was a fire on the plane. We landed on a long-abandoned strip in Siberia. Two days later, the same flight attendants told us we had beaten the odds by surviving.

Like driving a Ford Mustang with the top down across the Golden Gate Bridge while the sun is setting and you have a dinner reservation in Sausalito.

I wouldn’t bother learning how to use logarithms, and I might give netball a miss.

As having done my best.

How about The Hokey Cokey? That’s always fun, especially if they’re carrying the coffin.

My life won’t have full quality until we achieve equality for all.

Bloody radiator keeps banging. I think it needs air releasing but I don’t have a bleeding key.