... at Beth Israel Hospital - I know that’s shocking – me being born in a Jewish hospital. My brother was 5 ½ and my sister was 4 when I was born. My brother cried because he wanted a brother. We lived in Elizabeth in an apartment I don’t really remember. When I was five years old, we moved to Clark where I spent my formative years. Now, Clark was a typical N.J. suburb (think “Sopranos”) with lots of white people who had nothing to do all day but shlepp the kids around and gossip. I really hated it. My mother grew up in New York City, so she would take me into the city to show me there was another world out there, plus my feet were so big I had to go to the big woman’s shoe shop on 40th Street. My father had a great sense of humor and he would call everyone farmers. I’d complain about the people and he’d say, “What do you want from them? They’re all farmers.”