There was a funky market in a California beach town. You could buy snacks, knick-knacks, a decent bottle of wine. In time they added a damn good meat market and fresh produce and odds and ends that met the vibe of people who had just stepped off the sand. In essence, this little corner establishment was a “gourmet market” thirty years before there was such a thing. Time marched on, things changed.
When you’re the oldest guy in the room – cranky or not – people want to ask you questions. We sat down with the angry old fucker recently to get some answers.
It seems counterintuitive, but the Cranky Old Guy gets a lot of mail. A fair amount of the correspondence is from people who want the old dude to cheer up and snap out of it and consider the brighter side of life. These are the same people who rescue pets and marry broken people that they think they can fix.