“You do indeed go to my head.”

I have that effect, like champagne, or those very strong killers that make you feel peculiar..

But seriously: Thanks so much, Kate. You do indeed go to my head.

But a Fiat Uno driver from Basingstoke?…now there's food for thought!

Not completely fictional – so you're not really a mustang driver from Brooklyn? Hmm. In that case, I suspect you may be a Fiat Uno driver from Basingstoke.

Brooklyn's asphalt isn't intriguing in of itself, but rather for the wine, women and song that it led to. Then again, I was much younger and more energetic in those days and often led astray. However, that's another story, and it contains material that's not completely fictional…a departure from the norm for me.

I thought baseball was based on rounders. Although, we may have copied baseball to come up with that.

In what way is Brooklyn's asphalt intriguing? Our asphalt is very dull. It sounds as though you were emulating the standing around chaps though, but in a more subtle way.

In any event, I'll have you know that insofar as “smoking pipes and comparing beards” is concerned, my friends and I were once guilty of that eccentricity many ages ago. And even though we didn't wander through England's green and pleasant lands, we did stagger down Brooklyn's gray and intriguing asphalt. We didn't have beards and pipes but did have permanent five o'clock shadows and cigarettes.

(One of your best lines of many best lines here: “It was the 19th century or something, they all had beards, even the women.”)

Thank you for one of the funniest, well-written articles that I ever read….You're always showing off, you no good….Oh, never mind. Over and out…of my mind.