I remember my sister and I - my big sister would get up on her chair in the kitchen and sing Mary Wells' "What's Easy for Two Is So Hard for One." It was 1966, and I was 10 years old.

I've got these five-pound weights and a treadmill in the living room. I work out the other parts that have affected my voice: my diaphragm - doctors took mine out in surgery - and my lungs. I've got to build back my legs, too, so I can run across that stage. I've got a lot to do, but I'm going to get out, sing songs and tell the stories.

There ain't no way I'm going to be droppin' nothing. If I was in my twenties, maybe. But now I try to keep it looking decent. I don't want to expose too much of my bare ass.

When I got sick this past summer, I couldn't - my mind just wasn't on music. The rest of the band understood. But once October came, I felt ready to get back again.

Once I retire and slow down, I don't want to be in New York. I want to be somewhere near a lake or a pond, so that on my days when I have nothing to do, I can go fishing.

My goal for these next few years, for the next forever, is to try and keep positive things around me. If somebody is coming at me with negative stuff, just back away from me.

Maybe I won't have as much energy. And maybe the highs in my voice won't be what they used to be. But exercise is helping me pace myself.