. . . we got our lungs from Daddy, and we exercised them early and often during those years up in the hills gathering cattle and becoming lost, when that famous McEntire yell saved our hides more than once.
A friend of mine once told me that I can't screw up when I play my own music. I also take voice lessons, play other peoples' songs out of music books, and occasionally figure out how to play other people's music from records. This keeps my ears, fingers, and mind working.