Hard to believe but a new kitchen floor in somebody's apartment in America is given as a reason for not drinking red wine. The floor is made of marble and if a bottle were dropped on it, it might leave a stain. The people in question, not close friends of mine, I hasten to add, don't drink wine preferring beer so perhaps it is just a polite excuse. In the unlikely event of an invitation I make a note to leave the Ch Lafitte at home, and bring Budweiser instead.
I once long ago when very young asked someone the foolish question, what are you thinking about? A penny for your thoughts? Never again. I am reminded of my foolishness this morning when I wonder what is going on in my own head at the moment. I immediately realise why such questions are not only out of order but technically impossible to answer. It's like demanding of someone what is happening under his feet, or shouting over the side of a boat into the ocean, what's going on down there?