I’m 63 and still single, but my mother has never given up hope that she will get me married. “What about that nice young lady who cuts my hair?” “Ma,” I tell her, “I’m old enough to be her father.” “What about the community director at my apartment complex?” “Ma,” I say, “she’s old enough to be my mother!” “You’re too picky!” she says. She is right. I had no small number of opportunities wit…