I recently caught the final five minutes of a radio programme about hereditary genetics, or some-such, where a very clever Oxford professor chappie explained that if one was born in England one was at least a 28th cousin to The Queen.
I've always suspected that these veins of mine looked rather blueish, and, frankly, to have this confirmation comes as no particular surprise.
However, I'm determined to remain my usual humble self.... I don't want people to bow or curtsy, and I certainly don't want to have to move to Buck House.
On the other hand, I will be making myself available for ribbon cutting, regimental inspections, gaffs about foreigners, and the occasional banquet. Otherwise I'm too busy; they'll simply have to find someone else (Cousins Liz or Chuck maybe?).