In conclusion. Your invitation from last year to settle this in single combat has been withdrawn. I have reproduced our correspondence with your permission to illustrate the true nature of your counter-offer; to engage in a shooting match in Texas at the range of my choice.
First, I would not be able to best you in target shooting. I have owned and fired guns and rifles, but am not Annie Oakley. Neither are you, but I’m sure you are a better shot than me. You have more opportunities to practice. But what you are proposing is a mere target shoot, not combat per se. No skin in the game. Booring.
Second, there are less lethal choices of weapon for combat available. My favorite is a bamboo pole of indefinite length. Robin Hood and Little John did something similar. That at least would qualify as skin in the game. A fellow could get hurt. Free-style boxing would be a similar sporting alternative.
Third, me saving up and going to Texas would set off the alarms of all your fellow Texans, whom you assure me would immediately warn you of my presence, as you yourself stated, and that would not be single combat, but gang violence against a middle-aged Jew who’s seen better days. Hardly cricket. In fact, cowardly.
Fourth, that would make the timing open-ended, so I could propose a third alternative: We could wait until Russia and the US build a transcontinental extension bridge across the Bering Sea, from the Vladivostok Peninsula to the Alaska mainland. Then in the summer, we could meet half way, bamboo staffs in hand, like Robin Hood and Little John. By then we’d both be ancient.
But the question is moot. My offer of single combat is and will remain withdrawn, so you needn’t worry about travel expenses, or rounding up your Texas buddies to put them on the lookout for yours truly. Your cowardice and my response to it is now a matter of public record. I rest my case.
You’re a nut, dude.