A Royal Wedding Invitation

 

I have been quite preoccupied these last few days: It takes a lot of time each day waiting for the Pony Express, while looking for my wedding invitation. Wedding invitation, you say? The royal wedding invitation, of course. You have heard that William of Windsor and Katherine of Middleton are getting married, haven't you, and that the invitations are in the mail?

Silly you: Where else am I supposed to wait for the gilded envelope?

The word out here in the Back Forty is that Beckham (as in Beckham the soccer player) is in, but Obama (as in Obama the President) is not. So what are my chances? I even heard that some desperate teenager in Mexico is on a self-imposed hunger strike, and will starve herself until she gets her invitation. I like my food too much, so I'll pass on the royal fast—although that is very, er, noble of her.

I'm actually not sure if I ever get an invitation what I would do with it. On the one hand, I would be honoured, flattered, and amused; but on the other hand, I would possibly turn it over to the highest bidder. Weddings are not my highest form of entertainment, and weddings overseas would be a stretch at every level—financial, emotional, personal, and logical.

My sense is that it is big news in Britain these days, and good on them. The Charles and Di fiasco (wedding, great, but marriage, not good), followed by the Charles and Camilla match-up (or is that dust-up?) are both examples of marriages that hit the news for all the wrong reasons. As you know, William's Uncle Andrew, Aunt Anne, and his own father have had marital failures (note how I am careful to not assign blame or contributing factors). Let's hope for the sake of the Commonwealth (to say nothing of their own personal bliss) that William and Kate do better.

I don't know if I am a republican (the philosophy, not the party), but I do know I am not a monarchist. Never was, never will be. The closest I have ever come to anything royal is paying a king's ransom for a family meal at Burger Baron.

I suppose there is a place for royalty, but my settled conviction (or is it raw bias?) appreciates it only as token head of state, with minimal ceremonial and legal power. And for all the queen's vaunted trips to Canada over the years, I would personally rather go watch a parade in Taber. You may call that an ignorant perspective; I simply call it a commoner's viewpoint.

And then there's the little issue of money, as in money tied up in real estate, money maintaining the land and buildings tied up in real estate, money supporting the lifestyle of the rich and famous Windsor family. And only the hairdresser knows for sure what other expenses there are.

Not for a moment do I think that the monarchy should be wiped out completely and all the money simply given to the poor. That smacks of socialism, another unnecessary evil. Cutting back would a good thing; the next step would be taking those savings and pouring them into job training, affordable housing, food subsidies—and any other useful strategies to help the under-privileged.. But to simply give it away without any accountability would be the depth of irresponsibility.

For the record, we have another name for that practice: Foreign aid--a very careless approach to "helping" other countries, fodder for yet another column.

So, whether William and Kate invite me, and I have my doubts, I wish them well. And I wish them well, not because they are royalty but because they are a young couple in love, facing desperate times in Britain. It is a tough world we are all facing and every young couple needs all the support they can get—even if they don't have their own palace.

I'm thinking that if I haven't got it by next week, I'll stop my stakeout at the mailbox near the corral. Maybe our family should invite that Mexican teenager over for a meal out. The closest she'll be getting to a royal wedding is supper at Burger King and dessert at Dairy Queen.