No, I didn’t watch The Royal Wedding this morning. I was still in a snit over not having been invited, and a 2 a.m. telecast did nothing to make amends. In fact, knowing the whole thing would be endlessly replayed, I deliberately went to bed at 1 a.m.
It’s all been rather amusing, the hoopla over this wedding. The media have been positively swooning for a weeks. Oh sure, I was curious what Kate’s gown would look like and what flowers she’d carry (both were appropriately demure). And certainly no one does royal pomp like the Brits. But do I get the whole royalty bit in this age of economic turmoil? Nope, not really.
Maybe I’ve just had my fill of royal pageantry and tragedy. I watched the coronation of Elizabeth II. And Diana’s wedding. And Harry and Will as children. And Diana’s funeral. And now Will’s wedding, with his mom not here to see it. It all makes me feel very old.
Still, I do welcome this day as a timeout from unrelenting bad news. I’ve always been a romantic; I want the fairy tale. And royal weddings come pretty close.