I used to stay up all night, roam around, drink, and carry on like everybody else. That all changed when I got older, started to exercise and play golf. I knew by the time the day was over I would not feel like exercising, so I made it a point to exercise early.

I had a good record company right from the beginning, and I'm still with them after all these years. I think I may be the only person in the world that's had a tenure this long with any record company.

Every time I try to tell people things about my career, I wonder if that's the truth or something I'm fantasizing about.

I love Puccini and that oriental influence in his music.

Pavarotti's is the best male voice, and Joan Sutherland had a big voice but also acquired great coloratura notes.

It's a joy to listen to someone at the top of their craft.

When I was a kid, I had to try a lot of pyrotechnics just so people would know who I was.

I've lost a few notes on the top. But I've gained a little insight about what makes people comfortable when they're listening or watching a performance of mine. It usually has to do with singing something that isn't vocally too strenuous.

That's a big important deal, the way people see you from the stage. Once in a while, I'd ask people, 'How did you enjoy the show?' 'Hey, you looked great.' But how did I sound? That visual look is very important to people.

Tony Bennett and me are all the same... and he's still singing. I don't know what else to do.

When I got a chance, I went back and shared those experiences that were important to me. George Washington High, the campus at San Francisco State, and even back to Emerson Elementary school and Roosevelt Junior High. I was happy to do it, to go back and see if all the same teachers were there.

No, I don't regret my decision at all, especially after I started this music career. My eyes were as big as saucers.

The voice muscle doesn't last forever. I have a lot of friends who are classical and opera singers. My friend Beverly Sills stopped singing in her 50s, so I'm careful with mine. But I'll keep going as long as it lets me.

My claim to fame has always been that iconic picture that ended up in 'The San Francisco Chronicle' of Bill Russell jumping over my head.

I believe it was Nat King Cole that my dad took me to see, and we were sitting in the dressing room, and I blurted out to him, 'Why didn't you sing this?' Referring to whatever song I had wanted to hear, and he told me he was tired of singing it.

I have to remember that no matter how often I perform, there are certain songs that the audience truly wants to hear, and even though I've sung it 100,000 times, it may be their first time hearing them.

My parents were over the moon when I had some success with Christmas songs because that was the time of the year that meant so much to them. They were able to see their loved ones, and it was great to hear their son's voice on the radio while they visited.

Over the years, I was lucky; right from the beginning, I studied with a lady who had a lot of... she was a classical singer, and of course, they're a little bit more into, you know, preserving the voice, making sure your instrument is ready to perform.

My aspirations were never anything other than I really, really admired certain singers over the years, and I just wanted to do the best I could. And that has been kind of like the way I've been fortunate enough to be able to have a career, have some success, and yet continue to learn my craft.

I started off as a kid singing with my dad. My dad was my best pal. But he had seven kids, and I was the only one who was kind of interested in what he was playing and singing at the piano. And he was not only my dad, but he was my best pal, and I was interested in doing whatever he wanted to.

I always felt like what I was doing wasn't selling toys; I was making a happy sound at Christmas. When people hear something so familiar, it brings them back to a special place, and that's been meaningful for me.

Dad would come home from doing odd jobs, and sometimes he'd come home late at night with lumber, and he'd rumble around with all this wood in our small place. We'd finish putting it away, and then we'd play that piano. I'll be eternally grateful to him.

I would say three-quarters of what I do depends on the sincerity of it. You can croak, but if you croak good, they'll still listen.

Nat was my hero right from the very beginning. My dad brought his music into the house and played it over and over again.