I did not set the alarm clock this morning to get up and watch Prince William and soon to be Princess Kate tie the knot. I knew there would be sufficient rec-cap, replay, analysis, etc., of everything from the gown to the food served to the carriage ride that i would be able to stay in the loop for casual conversation over the next couple of days. But, I woke up about 6:30 anyway and the ceremony was in full swing. I watched for the next hour and then went to work.
There is all kinds of skepticism and mockery floating around out there , but come on, this is a royal wedding. Being the kind of person who loves weddings of any type at any time this is one of the biggies for me! I have enough of the little girl left in me to want to be a princess some day, actually I want to be an empress, but that seems to have become an anachronistic title. Despite his homely appearance I can remember as a teenager having a bit of a crush on Prince Charles, mainly because he was the only prince I had ever heard of besides some students from Africa who attended CSU or Wilberforce.
It seemed that every black man I met from Africa in the 60’s and 70’s was either a prince or the son of a prince from some realm I had never heard of. We used to make jokes about it, in retrospect some of them probably did have the title back home. But, in that particular time and place the word prince was synonymous with white. Prince Charming was never brown in any fairy tale I ever read. The princesses, of course, were likewise generally pretty pale, but even in Victorian literature there would occasionally be an exotic Indian ( east Indian) or Indian ( American Indian) princess mentioned, but hardly ever a dusky prince.
Adding spice to the wedding for me is the fact that I am an unabashed Anglophile. I love all things British, always have. Since I have a kooky theory that DNA holds some memory– I could not explain being able to read French almost the first time I saw it otherwise, I have decided that one of my white ancestors must have been British. I have waffled on his ( probably my white ancestor was male for obvious reasons) nationality. I was, after ll born on St. Patrick’s Day, but I am pretty sure he was English. My favorite authors are from England, Emily Bronte, P.D. James, Arthur Conan Doyle, J.K. Rowling, Agatha Christie, I love the British penchant for order, custom, tradition, pomp and circumstance. I like the idea of things being planned and happening at the same time, the same way with the same elements year after year. I do not have a truly spontaneous bone in my body.Breaking my planned schedule upsets me, no matter what reason!
I do hope to visit London some day and perhaps take a tour of the English countryside that I have read so much about and which, for some reason, seems so oddly familiar.
So, let’s enjoy the fairy tale, even though we all know there is no such thing as true happy endings, that the fluidity of chance and fortune means that no matter how much you work to live happily ever after there are still going to be times when you are the bug rather than the windshield, the leg rather than the Yorkie. But for today we can look at a beautiful young woman in a stunning gown on the arm of her red-clad prince and at least hope that their happily ever after will at least last for a little while and that the rest of us can join them vicariously in enjoying their day. Weddings are about hope and faith and promise, about beginnings and promises and about optimism; I do love a wedding! Good luck kids!