Can you believe it? There's a royal wedding coming up Friday, and I haven't mentioned it even once. I see no reason to change that now, so let's move on to some other topic.
I mean, so what if a prince is marrying a commoner -- well, a wealthy, high-society commoner, if such a thing is possible -- and so what if the world seems to be agog?
Good for the world. Now, let's move on.
Don't get me wrong. I'm actually happy there are such things as princes and princesses in this world. The planet would be a much sadder place if we didn't have an entirely different species to make fun of.
We of the common sort get to read about their antics, almost as though we were watching them through the bars at the zoo. Without princes and near-princesses, what sort of tales would we read to our children to get them to sleep at night? Without kings and queens, how would we ever figure out the game of chess?
I will go so far as to say that I would not bellyache if we replaced our boring political form of government with some nobles and even noblers.
Oh, it would be different, certainly. Instead of mailing off my income taxes as I did recently (I think I did, anyway), I would probably have to push a wheelbarrow up to the castle every year, loaded down with a pig or a few bags of corn, something to appease the royal tax man.
Instead of envying the other guy who drives the fancy car with four good tires, I would probably be eyeing that fellow who drives a yoke of oxen to the castle to drop off his gold coins and such.
No doubt I would be mumbling: "Sure, I wouldn't mind giving the king his due if I had a bigger farm and my chickens hadn't gotten trampled by my neighbor's oxen."
So, yeah, I don't mind that the royals have their fun. It didn't hurt my feelings that I wasn't invited to the ceremony. I'm a homebody, I don't have a thing to wear and, honestly, I have never figured out how to act in public.
For instance, when I was a kid, we were taught the Emily Post-style of etiquette in school. Not taught, exactly, because that implies learning. It was in our textbooks, though.
The books said, if I recall correctly, that it is proper etiquette to introduce the man to the woman, the younger person to the older, but I never got that straight in my head.
Is it: "Mr. Jones, may I introduce Mrs. Smythe?" Or, "Mrs. Smythe, may I present Mr. Jones?"
See, it ain't easy.
I never understood why such things even mattered. Either way, two strangers learn each other's name, and while they're trying to make small talk, you can back away and head for the punch bowl and little sandwiches.
It will go a lot easier for everyone concerned if I just stay home Friday. Let the TV networks send their best-dressed correspondents to blather over the decorations and food and dresses.
Besides, the prince and near-princess don't need any introductions from me. (Don't they already keep house?) They wouldn't be interested in anything I might add to the conversation. What could I possibly say?
"Got any new oxen lately?"