Today’s the day (technically tomorrow), when a prince marries an American! A celebrity! A person of mixed race! The world has gone gaga for a royal wedding.
I am not that much into all things British, but I do like the family Windsor. After all, Prince William married my distant cousin, Kate. Yes, my maiden name is Middleton, and my sisters and I joke that our invitation for that wedding must have gotten lost in the mail.
Things have changed so much since the day Princess Di married Prince Charles and set the world abuzz. Political correctness has changed as well. Mixed race/blood is no longer an acceptable term. Neither is midget, transvestite, half breed, colored, retarded, or perve. The list goes on and on. I’ve had many a relative utter these terms, and it was okay back then, fifty years before, a more black and white world where little Jewish boys got teased on the way home from school for being Jewish, and where my first grade teacher told the class that whoever acted badly had to play with the little black boy at recess.
YCMTSU. You can’t make this shit up. It really happened, a half century ago in a very white Iowa (my home state has diversified somewhat since then). I don’t remember much about Mrs. VanCura other than her recess threat. I don’t think Teddy stayed it my class much longer after that.
My mother was appalled and reminds me to this day whenever I bring up my childhood. She was ahead of her time, tolerant of different types of folks long before it was okay to be that way. When her brother married a Navajo woman, it was okay. After all he was an anthropologist living in Colorado. When the married couple adopted a Native American baby from two tribes, that was okay, too.
The Queen of England has mellowed a bit herself. Yes, she still wears too many big hats and doesn’t smile enough, but she has seen it all. Scandal. Death. The changing world. This grandson Harry/Meghan wedding is going to be just fine, as long as she can wear her wedding finery and do the queen wave when appropriate. My sister Nancy is good at mimicking that.
You’ve gotta love Harry and William, too. They lost their mum when they were still kids. The world adored Diana, and then she was gone.
I wish Prince Harry and Meghan the best, although I won’t be getting up at 3:30 tomorrow morning to watch it. I’m sure there will be plenty of recaps on the news, in the papers, and on the cover of Time magazine. Weddings are something to celebrate. When the rest of the world is going to hell in a hand basket (what does that literally mean? What is a hand basket, anyway? And how would/does the world fit?), a gorgeous couple in military attire and white is always a welcome sight in the news.
So let’s all sing the words by Lorde, since we are the little people, even though some of us share a surname with Prince William’s wife, Kate.
And Baby Louis? How do we pronounce our new nephew’s name anyway?
Ah, yes, with our pinkies extended as we hold our cups of Earl Grey tea.

“And we’ll never be royals
It don’t run in our blood
That kind of lux just ain’t for us
We crave a different kind of buzz
Let me be your ruler, you can call me Queen B
And baby I’ll rule (I’ll rule, I’ll rule, I’ll rule)
Let me live that fantasy.”

2 thoughts on “Royals

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