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Everyone - ok, everyone with a lick of sense, culture, and appreciation of fine comedy - remembers the 1983 holiday classic "A Christmas Story." If you're American and have yet to see it, I can only assume that you live in a cave without any sort of long-distance-viewing technological picture boxes at your disposal (the flickering light, it scares me!).
While watching it, again, the other weekend with the wife, we pondered the fate of Peter Billingsley. I wish we hadn't, because he's all grown up (see the photo). In fact, he's my age.
I'm getting old. This sucks.
