I was taken out of school by my dad when I was 11 and lived in Mexico City, then later in Paris. I went with him to excavate in Bolivia and Peru. I never finished high school. I was a straight F student anyway. My father admitted to me later that he’d thought I would come to no good.
I just went off for two months traveling around Europe on a motorcycle and pretty much turned my phone off. I did 5,000 miles with my dad. We went through Holland, Germany, Austria, Slovenia, Croatia, Bosnia, Montenegro, Italy… and then I did Spain and France by myself.
Right before my dad died he was planning to go to New York City for the video music awards that he was nominated for, the MTV music awards. You couldn’t tell him he wasn’t going to go. It was going to happen. But he wound up having to check into the hospital there, and not too long later he died. But his spirit never gave up – his body did.
Literally, over a weekend, Friday to Monday, I went from a C.I.A. officer to changing diapers and putting the kid in a Bjorn and going to the playground and hanging out with all the nannies. I was the only dad – everyone kind of gave me strange looks because of our sexist society.
When I turned 16, my dad made me sign a contract – he made us sign contracts for everything – that if I hit my car, I would be responsible for paying for it. I was in bumper-to-bumper traffic, and I tapped someone. It was so not a big deal, but I had to pay for it.
My dad cooks beef in Guinness, I don’t know why he does that, he adds chocolate to his spaghetti Bolognese too, I’m scared about doing that, it would like chocolate Bolognese if I did it, he likes to make it look rich that’s why, so yes, my dad experiments but I don’t.
I am very close to my brother Ramesh Babu. When my father was away for shootings, my brother would take care of me, and I am very close to him, and yes, Dad’s always special. He used to call me and enquire about my film’s progress. Whenever I deliver a hit, I can see a glow on my father’s face.
I came back from university thinking I knew all about politics and racism, not knowing my dad had been one of the youngest-serving Labour councillors in the town and had refused to work in South Africa years ago because of the situation there. And he’s never mentioned it – you just find out. That’s a real man to me. A sleeping lion.
My mom was a folk singer and Celtic harpist. My dad was in a barbershop quartet and my great grandma was an opera singer. As I grew up, I discovered pop music and Top 40 radio, but it was in the ‘90s, so music was very different then – it was really lyrical.
For a man, there’s a big responsibility that comes with having a boy because men are made by their fathers. If you’ve got a good productive man around it’s better. I have such a close relationship with my dad and that responsibility to produce a good man is something I think about.
My mother and dad were big animal lovers, too. I just don’t know how I would have lived without animals around me. I’m fascinated by them – both domestic pets and the wild community. They just are the most interesting things in the world to me, and it’s made such a difference in my lifetime.
I watched Leicester City lose in the 1969 FA Cup final with my dad and granddad when I was eight and cried all the way home. I have seen them get promoted and relegated. I played for them for eight years. I even got a group of like-minded fans and friends to stump up a few quid to salvage the club when they went into liquidation.
I have a massive Samoan family. And the Samoan culture has always played a massive part of my life. I’ve got hundreds of family on my dad’s side that live in Samoa and in New Zealand. I’ve just been surrounded by the culture ever since I was a kid.
My dad always taught me never to give up in my mind. You can never really beat me. It sounds ridiculous, but I will always come back for you. You can’t beat someone who never gives up. I could lose 100 times to you, but I will always get you. I will die trying. This applies not only to swimming but to my life as well.
I remember going to see my dad pitch against other coal-mining teams, and he was successful with the knuckleball. I saw how bad guys would look like swinging, and how guys talked about how he could throw every day and didn’t hurt his arm. That’s how I grew up learning.
I wasn’t even born when dad swam in the Olympics. I’ve seen videos of some of his swims, although I don’t think I’ve ever seen him in the Olympics. He’s been a massive support right through my career, and it’s good to have someone so close to talk to who knows all about what it’s like to compete in an Olympic Games.
I didn’t decide to play guitar, but that was the instrument which I was offered. I’ve always been interested in horn-type instruments, such as a saxophone; but those instruments are very expensive, so my dad bought me a guitar instead. I didn’t like the guitar at first, but after noodling on it for several months, I developed a feel for it.
My love for American music and American movies is from an early age. I was 10 or 11 when I heard Fats Domino and Little Richard and Buddy Holly. And the movies, my dad used to take my brother and I to the movies every Friday. It was incredible: we got to see just about every movie that came out for a period of years.
My mum is incredibly leftwing, and my dad was quite rightwing – no surprise they didn’t stay together – and so I had two very conflicting political opinions as a child, neither of which I was interested in taking any notice of, being a sort of little reprobate.
All three of my parents – I also had a stepmother – were teachers, and my dad taught high school, and as he always reminded me when I was going to spend some money on something, ‘Your mother and I, in the Depression, had to decide whether to spend a dime on a loaf of bread or if we could go to a movie with it.’
Bob Dole. He’s like the neighbors’ Labrador retriever your dad used to curse for all that barking, all that darn digging in your mom’s tulip bed, and now look, you live next door to a godforsaken pack of teeth-baring rabid Pomeranians, and, good golly, Bob Dole!
Growing up, I heard a lot about strength. My dad – a Holocaust survivor – embodied it, though he would never say that about himself. Not only did he survive one of the most horrific events in history, but he never lost hope along the way, crediting acts of kindness with keeping him alive.
My dad said, ‘The thing that I was told that was really helpful was that I mustn’t be afraid of the things I was afraid of when I was five years old’. The shock of his childhood had put him in this defensive crouch against the world, and he needed to know that he had a nice wife and kids and it wasn’t the same any more.
For months before he passed, my dad would have terrible night sweats, and soak through his sheets, often several times a night. Each time, mom would gently roll him over, replace the sheets, and roll him back – then spend the whole next day washing several sets of sheets, only to repeat the routine each night.
My dad, as a guy, had to quit school in the ninth grade, fought in the Battle of the Bulge. And spent his life pushing wheel barrels of heavy wet cement. So we’ve gone from pushing cement to now in one generation pushing legislation. But we always want any president to succeed, to do well; that means America does well and Americans do well.
