Or an “old soul,” as I’ve been described. I suppose it’s true, in a sense. I have the sensibilities of an old man.
As exemplified in my penchant for mildly tasteless hard candies and black licorice, the slow, patient and methodical way in which I drive, and my general dislike for all things having to do with bright lights, loud music, crowds and what the kids (or whippersnappers) like to call “grinding.”
I like old-timey philosophy (Aristotelian), I wear old-timey shorts (above the knee?! oh my!), and I am often confounded by all things technical or electronic (it needs to be as simple as a light switch. Seriously. Ask Jessica).
Plus, I deem women should be in the kitchen. Barefoot and pregnant, cooking my dinners.
Okay, that last bit is not true.