Well, heck, you tell Art about my great-Uncle Fergus.

He got married at 93 to a young lady of 19. Every morning, my two brothers had to go over to his house and position Uncle Fergus on top of Aunt Lisa. Then, long about 4 p.m., they got my three cousins to go over and help get him off.

I asked about it; I said that two big strong fellers should probably be able to lift Fergus off, him not weighing more than about 80 pounds soaking wet and all.

"Well," said my cousin Greg, "ya know, he'll fight ya."