“How was your golf game, dear?” asked Jack’s wife Edna.
“Well, I was hitting pretty well, but my eyesight’s gotten so bad I can’t see where the ball lands. I think I’llhave to give up playing golf.”
“But you’re only seventy-five years old, Jack!” admonished his wife, “Why don’t you take my brother Ronald along?”
“But he’s eighty-five, and he doesn’t even play golf anymore,” protested Jack.
“He has perfect eyesight, though. He could watch the ball for you,” Edna pointed out.
The next day Jack teed off with Ronald looking on. Jack swung, and the ball disappeared down the middle of the fairway. “Did you see it?” asked Jack.
“Yup,” Ronald answered.
“Well, where is it?” yelled Jack, peering off into the distance.