Thank God for little miracles, right?

I began to believe the fairy tales: You know, how we're all out there looking for our magical missing half.

I spent two weeks prancing around a studio in Queens in my underwear with nine other guys. They were long days. But what the hell, it was Calvin Klein.

We're all pretty ordinary on paper.

I'd gone to Manhattan to become a model.

I wasn't even 20 at the time, but it taught me something about drugs. They can take a good man, a warm, funny, loving family man, and turn him into a loser and worse.

I was going to get the Carolyn Bessette story out of her one way or another.