I never really pictured myself becoming the stereotypical “crotchety old man” back when I was a wee nipper and “old” meant anything over the age of about, oh, say, 25. But now that I’ve moved to within spitting distance of the “Big 5-0,” I’ve come to the conclusion that becoming crotchety must be not only something of an inevitability but, in fact, a badge of honor. 


I remember my parents telling me when I was younger that people pretty much earn the right to get persnickety ...


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