"How was your game, dear?" asked Jack's wife, Tracy.

"Well, I was hitting pretty well, but my eyesight's gotten so bad I couldn't see where the ball went," he answered.

"But you're 75 years old, Jack!" admonished his wife, "Why don't you take my brother, Scott, along?"

"But he's 85 and doesn't play golf anymore," protested Jack.

"But he's got perfect eyesight. He could watch the ball for you," Tracy pointed out.

The next day Jack teed off with Scott looking on. Jack swung and the ball disappeared down the middle of the fairway.

"Do you see it?" asked Jack.

"Yup," Scott answered.

"Well, where is it?" yelled Jack, peering off into the distance.

"I forget."