All my life, I’ve been “David,” except to my older sister who calls me “Dave” or “Davey.”

If you call me “Dave,” I won’t correct you, although if you ask me my preference, I’ll say “David” without hesitation. If you ask me why, I won’t be able to give you a meaningful answer other than that my family called me “David.”

Now, at age 53, I find I’m becoming a Dave. About half the time.

The explanation is, I think, simple…

Continued at Many2Many…

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