When I was five, I wanted to be a cleaning lady; when I was nine, I wanted to be the world’s number one tennis player.

A ballet dancer, and for a while I wanted to teach children with Down’s syndrome.

J-Lo, a foreign correspondent and, at uni, I assumed that someone would tap me on the shoulder and ask me to be in MI6, but it never happened.

A psychologist and then a diplomat.

My teenage years in the Runaways: I was still naive enough to think good things about the world and life and people, and I was having fun playing rock’n’roll around the world, living the dream.

Right after 9/11, Kenny and I went to perform for the troops in Pakistan and Uzbekistan. As we were flying in, an electronic voice went off: “Warning: missile launch! Warning: missile launch!” The Taliban had fired a rocket at us. I was waiting to see the back of the plane blow up, but it didn’t and we landed.

I had a cafeteria job, serving food, and some people were really nasty. There was a stack of nice, cool plates, and a stack of hotter plates that had just come out of the kitchen. So, if a person was an arsehole, I’d hand them a hot plate with a smile and watch them deal with it.

My electric car: it’s a hybrid Cadillac.

I don’t think I’d change anything: the bad forms you more than the good.

My buddy Kenny Laguna. He’s a person of extraordinary character, he’s intelligent, and a very good friend.