Quotes About Nostalgia

I had a home in Las Vegas for about eight years, starting in 1978.

I played Vegas at the age of 16 years old, in 1959.

I feel very connected to Las Vegas. It's my hometown.

I love 'What Happens in Vegas,' 'You've Got Mail.'

My parents divorced when I was 3 years old. They had a lounge act in Las Vegas, where I was born. The band broke up and the marriage dissolved, and my mother, my sister and I moved to Southern California. And I didn't see my dad a lot growing up; he was on the road a lot. I'd see him every couple years.

I miss the personalization that Vegas was - there were showroom captains and all the dealers knew the gamblers by their first names.

Vegas is like the old definition of writing: though I don't enjoy writing, I love having written. Though I didn't enjoy Vegas, I love having lived there.

Incredibly, almost every hotel I ever played in Vegas was blown up shortly afterward: The Dunes, The Sands, The Landmark, The Aladdin, The Frontier, The Hacienda, The Stardust - all were imploded.

The Old Vegas is gone. It's not that it's necessarily better or worse; it's just totally different.

I was a gambler when I was a kid, so when we got to Las Vegas, it was like Mecca.

I'm totally, totally into old Vegas.

My father loves Las Vegas, and he loves to play craps. Growing up, I'd find old Caesars Palace chips in his pocket that he forgot to cash out.

Twenty years from now we want people to come out and see us sing and dance in Las Vegas. Like Sammy Davis Jr., like Julio Iglesias, like Tom Jones. I believe there is a big future for us.

I like the Suncoast so much. It is miles from the Strip. It reminds me of the old Vegas atmosphere when things were a little more personal.

I grew up eating fried food. I thought that macaroni and cheese was a vegetable.

When my parents were dating, they were very poor, so my dad couldn't take my mom out. They would go to the grocery store and pick out funny looking vegetables. When I grew up, we'd still go and find the ones with personality.

I get nostalgic about having lived in Ames, Iowa, even though being a vegetarian in Iowa is not fun. But I really love Durham more than any place I've ever been; some small towns can be really provincial and strangling, but Durham is the best city in the world.

Sometimes you have to be reminded where you were at the time, and songs are a good vehicle for that. It's so funny how those things are connected with your memory.

I've always romanticized the late '40s and '50s - the cars, jazz, the open roads and lack of pollution. Now there are more vehicles, less hitchhikers, more billboards and power lines and stuff. People wrote wonderful long letters that took months to receive, and now everything is email.

It's in the vein, somewhere in a cross between The Beatles, Cheap Trick, The Stones, Badfinger, you know, but it's not retro at all. But it is very pop.

I was so focused on being serious. All the guys I enjoyed watching as a kid were in that vein - Ron Simmons, Scott Steiner, Vader.

My great-grandmother was in one of the first girl bands, in the 1920s. Their outfits were mental: velvet bloomers with big ribbons and headpieces. They were brilliant.

If you asked me to sing a modern song, I wouldn't be able to - I can't easily slip into that groove. But if it were a song by Nico or The Velvet Underground, fine.

I am working on 'Bombay Velvet'. The music for it is jazz from the '60s.