I read an entry at Confessions of a Pioneer Housewife yesterday entitled "He's the strongest man I know".
It took me back a few years.
See, when I married Cliff in 1966, he was the strongest man I'd ever met. He worked at a butcher shop from 1969 on, for several years. He lifted half-beefs from one rail to another, because he was the only one there who was strong enough to do it. I wonder why he had so much back trouble later on? I could tell other stories, but I don't see that it's necessary. Trust me on this.
When friends came to visit on weekends, there were always arm-wrestling contests: Cliff won every time, except for that one time when he felt it would hurt somebody's pride. So he winked at me, and then let that guy win.
After seeing what my husband went through last April with his open heart surgery, I'm still convinced he's the strongest man I ever knew. Good luck Ree, but your Marlboro Man doesn't have a chance.