Before the Beatles and yesterday, when a man could still work and still would.

In 1960, when I came out of prison as an ex-convict, I had more freedom under parolee supervision than there's available... in America right now.

Momma tried to raise me better, but her pleading I denied, and that leaves only me to blame, cause Momma tried.

If I had a choice, and there was a "Y" in the road, I would always take the one that was more fun as opposed to the one that might make me more money.

Diana Krall knocks me out. I like jazz and I like her simple approach.

If I hear another line dance song I think I'm going to puke.

Read about some squirrelly guy who claims that he just don't believe in fighting, and I wonder how long the rest of us can count on being free.