I was able to put something back. I was able to be of help to [Frank Sinatra] when he needed my help - and he did need somebody's help.

It's the way of all flesh, you know. Aging takes its toll. Like I said, it's the way of all flesh. When the time came and he finally had to step down, the thing that kept him going disappeared.

I think in my generation, when I came along in the early '60s, the type of music that was in vogue in society in those days had moved on to another kind of music. I was trying to sell antiques in a modern appliance store.

I've never heard of any one single artist being the subject in an ongoing series of radio programs for decades. Bearing this in mind, that's the kind of thing Frank Sinatra brings out in his audience, his followers. It's personally satisfying to me because his music by and large was the greatest quality of lyrics, melody, orchestration and, of course, his magnificent approach to telling a story.

When I came on board, it was halfway through his [Frank Sinatra] 72nd year, and when he did his last show he was gaining on 80. He knew it, the audience knew it, and there was never any attempt to conceal such a thing. His vision wasn't what it had once been. His hearing wasn't. His memory was fading. He knew these things. He was very much in need of help, and I was so happy to be able, in a small way, to render that help.

Hopefully I never get hit with that stigma of being a novelty act. Since [my father] death in 1998 I've been doing a program called Sinatra Sings Sinatra.

Frank Sinatra was very devoted to what it was he did. At the end of his life, what he had left - there have been accolades, mementos, festivals, superlatives, all that stuff. He's done movies, TV, done this, done that - what he had left was a love of his audience, and that kept him alive.