Impatience married with being very quick to judge.

Nobody has ever accused me of being a superior communicator. If I could have conveyed to the American people the concerns I had, and my heartbeat, a little more clearly, maybe I would not be unemployed and retired. And I might not be this happy, either. I learned a lot from Ronald Reagan about communication. Never got to be in his league in terms of it, but he could say something and the American people might not agree with the issue, but they could empathize with him.

My problem with clothes. I’ve got an issue, haven’t I? I’m not a fella in a band who can turn up in his T-shirt and jeans. I’ve got the whole drama of what I’m going to wear: the hair, the makeup. All that preening and pruning that adds to the stress. I have begun to hate that perfectionist in me.

Not following through on things.

Sending a text meant for my wife to Dara O'Briain by mistake, revealing myself to be a control freak.

The concept of eternity.

To my 17-year-old daughter Isabella, whom I described in an interview last year as "keen on maths".

Boothby Graffoe calling up to pester me into promoting his new album, available on Amazon and iTunes.

Jumping on the seats of a deserted carriage on a London-bound train from Canterbury in 1989.

Sinatra's The Best Is Yet To Come.