Frank, you remind me of my late Father-in-Law, in a good way. Now, it must be something to do with being an engineer, he knew some really rude songs. Not just mildly offensive, really, really rude. He used to have a good chuckle when he made me blush (and I used to work in a steelworks, some of the language there was a bit ripe).
He used to like oogling young ladies wearing things their Mums would not have approved of, he said if it was on show, it would be rude NOT to look!
Taking him around meadowhall was best. Lots of folks don't know, but Meadowhall dips down in the middle, each side away from the Oasis is uphill. In his last years he was in a wheelchair, as his knees were shot (he was on the waiting list for replacements, then went and got cancer, the silly sod), and I was often delegated to go shopping with him, as we got on very well (he used to say I was Daughter number two , which was lovely). All was well, until we got to a downhill bit, then I would be leaning back on the handles trying to stop the chair gathering speed, and he'd be waving his stick, woe betide anyone who got in the way. Uphill, I'd be properly leaning into the chair, and he'd be exhorting me to go faster. He had a naughty habit of grabbing the rim of one of the wheels to steer himself towards any young ladies he fancied, it was only down to me shouting and the quick reactions of the ladies in question jumping out of the way (literally) that he didn't end up with a lap full of lady. One memorable time she wasn't quite quick enough, and he thought all his Christmases had come at once!!
He could be a cantankerous old git, but I miss him every day.