Old, Crotchety Man In The Making?

Three occurrences from the past 18 hours have made me wonder exactly what life path I'm on here:

Last night, driving home from the gym, I realized that I don't like anything on the "Top 40" radio station anymore. It's all hip-hop, percussion-and-rhyme, and lacks musicality. A sure sign of getting older, I guess.

Also last night, talked to my dad about my parents' upcoming visit. I suggested they call from the Seattle airport so I'd know they made it on the final leg of the journey. You could sense the tension in his voice — a "one more thing to do in a hurry" tone of exasperation … just like I might use.

Even better: they've been worried about making it out of the hometown airport in the morning due to weather, stressing over the cost of parts of the trip should flights be cancelled. Today's solution: fly out tonight, on standby, and overnight in Seattle. Exactly the kind of pre-airport anxiety that Dan has to put up each and every time we fly out of town. At least I know where I get that from, now.

But, oy. Am I really growing up to be my father (love him to death, really), albeit not so Republican?