He is a kind and considerate man. He has asked me on several occasions whether I would like him to help me work out a weight-lifting routine for myself. I thanked him; didn't think so. Even after he had persuaded me to go ahead, lift a few weights, see what it's like. I was neither persuaded nor particularly impressed.

For myself, that is. I figure I get enough exercise, with our daily-damn-the-weather excursions into the wooded ravine near our house with our two little dogs in tow, struggling up hills, slithering downhill. And cleaning this fairly largish house. Not to mention the brief, but effective exercise routine I've done for the past 50 years which manages very nicely to keep me limber; I can still lay my hands, palm down, flat on the floor without bending my legs, for example, and remain nimble enough gardening.

But for him, I am impressed. We are, after all, 74 years old, heading toward 75. And he has always busied himself both before and since retirement with many different types of projects. Many of which require both the skill of dexterity and physical strength, let alone creativeness. So I'm glad he's instituted a weight-lifting regimen for himself, to increase his muscle mass.

Given the obesity problems besetting modern society, it would be useful for many more men to elect to maintain a similar routine.