I wake up any time between 5am and 7am, depending on what the day holds. If I’m working I have to be up early, but if I’ve got the day off I like to sleep a little later. On those days I let my beautiful wife take care of me. She lavishes attention on me, and I luxuriate in that. Five or six times a week I try to do some exercise, which usually involves the swimming pool. We’ve got a nice pool at home, and I work out for 30 to 40 minutes. The exercise is important, you see, because I am trying to develop a six-pack stomach. At the moment, unfortunately, it’s a 12-pack… It needs a little trim here and there.

Breakfast is always light. Maybe just a bowl of fruit, but I’ve developed a taste for rice cakes and fresh tomato. Don’t ask me why. It just fills me up without being too calorific. That will be followed by coffee — four shots of decaf. Actually, I take it as a macchiato. I’ve had to cut back, but I still see myself as… shall we say, a coffee-lover. My sine qua non is Starbucks. That’s the coffee against which I measure all the others. My wife stocks the kitchen with many different types and I try a new one every day. And I love the fact that the cocoa bean — I’m talking about chocolate, too — has so many subtle variations. It’s like wine.

Just for a change it would be nice to try the scruffy, unshaven look, but that only really works if you’re a young guy. The problem is that I have become an old guy, so I have to shave every day. Me! An old guy! How did that happen?

I think it must be a mistake. Shaving, showering and taking my vitamins — I’m very fastidious about my supplements — adds up to about 30 minutes. After that I might do some delegating. I am a great delegator. If the fountain isn’t working I get the fountain guy in. If the toilet is leaking — as it is at the moment — I get the toilet guy in. Probably my favourite phrase is “Let’s get somebody to fix that.” Having said that, my wife and I have done a lot of work on the house. Okay, that’s not strictly true. A lot of work has been done on the house. By the building guys, the decorating guys and so on. We have a wonderful old house in the Los Angeles hills — that’s old in American terms, which is about 100 years. Out of one window I can watch the sun rise, and out of another window I can see the sun set. The vista must be at least 270 degrees, with an incredible view out over the San Fernando Valley.

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If there’s time, my gorgeous wife — make sure you get that in — and I take the 45-minute drive to where we keep our horses. Horses have been my passion for many years. I’ve competed at all levels, and I still have ambitions to win a world championship. The only problem with horses is that it’s a rich man’s passion. I had to wait until I was earning a bit of money before I could really indulge. You have to worry about shoes, socks, blankets, stables, trainers, hay… And the more expensive the horse, the more it costs to keep it. The bills are triple what they’d be if I had an old nag.

There’s a wonderful Italian restaurant not far from the stables. My beautiful wife and I — make sure you get that in — are often joined by the trainer, the trainer’s wife, the assistant and anyone who happens to be there. And the food… Well, once the menu’s in my hand there’s no stopping me. Sometimes I order everything on the menu. Sometimes I order two or three of everything on the menu, so we can try a little bit of each dish. So much for the six-pack.

I have an office in Los Angeles, and in the afternoon I might take a trip down there to work on one of the projects I’m involved in. It could be Boston Legal, it could be Gonzo Ballet… That’s right, a ballet. Somebody has created a ballet to go with six songs from my last album, Has Been. Driving to the office — in fact, driving anywhere — is one of life’s real pleasures. I have an Aston Martin DB7, and sometimes I just stand there and gaze at this work of art. This is a car to relish. Sitting inside, I’m engulfed by a patina of thankfulness. I’ve been known to drive a little too… er, enthusiastically. And, yes, I have been stopped by the rozzers — the coppers, that’s what you Brits call them, isn’t it? — several times. They always call me Bill. “Bill, you were driving a little fast there.” I always agree with whatever they say and I always call them sir. “Yes, sir, I was.” Most of them like to have a chat about when I was the captain of a spaceship. Then they say: “Okay, Bill, not so fast next time.”

In the evening I love, love, love it when my children come to visit. All three of my daughters live close by, and I have five grandchildren. I sit them on my knee and tell them stories. They’re probably still a bit too young to fully understand what a fantastic storyteller I am. When they’re a bit older they will appreciate my true value. At the moment they just think I’m the weird old guy that they have to put up with once a week.

If it’s not too late, I’ll watch something on TV. Maybe sports, news or a movie. Sci-fi? I’m not too crazy on sci-fi. And I don’t like talking. I don’t like didactic movies. I like instant entertainment.

If there’s nothing on TV I listen to jazz, but I never know who I’m listening to. I just listen to the radio.

By 10pm my incredible wife — make sure you get that in — and I are in bed and asleep. In fact, it’s normally before 10pm. Not a bad day, eh? I’m a very lucky guy.

Interview by Danny Scott. Photograph: Daryl Weisser

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