I might have told you this before—as I age, I find I tend to repeat myself—but when Garey and I began dating, 49 years ago now, he told me he was the Golden Glove boxing champion of Alabama. He wasn’t. That didn’t stop me from believing him, however, and bragging about it to my friends, one of whom asked him about it. He thought it was hilarious that I actually believed him. I was not amused. He had told me that little factoid in response to my asking him how his arms go so muscled up. Garey was buff when we first met.