CORNER: Can't get enough of the Royals
I’m about to type something I’ve never typed before.
“Come here, Margie. Franklin’s about to say something nice about a Republican.”
No, that’s not it, Margie. I’m about to say something negative about Queen Elizabeth.
Faithful readers will remember my Royal Family geekness – particularly relating to Her Majesty. The late Ed Sadler once, in a response to yet another column proclaiming my love for QEII, offered to pay for my passage to England (one way) if I would just leave Clinton.
But, at last week’s Royal Wedding, as Her Majesty entered the church with Prince Phillip in tow (his official title is the Queen’s consort), she brushed past both Prince William and Prince Harry without so much as a glance.
The princely duo are her grandsons. I can’t imagine My Current Wife walking past any of our grandkids – particularly at their wedding – without grabbing them up in a big hug.
But, except for that little misstep, the Royal Wedding was blissful. I was glued to the telly from 4:30 a.m. until 3 p.m. with the only break a quick trip to Laurens to see the two oldest grandsons run a mud race.
Oprah was at the wedding, as were George Clooney and his woman and David Beckham and his own personal spice. But my eyes were fixed on the Royals.
My Current Wife, in her never ending efforts to make sure my every need is met, has arranged for my remarriage to a mutual friend in the event of her demise (not sure what I’m to do with the friend’s husband). But, I warned Current Wife last week that I might make a play for The Duchess of Sussex if I were ever to find myself unencumbered by the vows of matrimony.
That is one good-looking woman. (Please don’t tell My Current Wife I said that.)
No bridesmaids. No groomsmen. Nothing to detract from the prince and soon-to-be-duchess. But, there were all those little royals trailing the bride. Cute as buttons all. One little snaggle-toothed rascal photobombed the bride as she began her walk down the aisle. By herself.
She was picked up at halfcourt (the court of St. James?) by Prince Charles. If I had to pick a royal I’m not keen on, it would be Charles.
As Charles handed the bride off to Harry, it looked to me that Harry mouthed, “Thank you, pa.”
In some of the run-up to the wedding, I saw a clip where Harry had introduced some of his military buddies to the Queen. He called her Granny. That’s just spectacular.
The bride and groom aside, the hit of the royal nuptials was Rev. Michael Curry, an Episcopal bishop from Chicago. He brought it.
He talked about love. “There is power in love to help and heal when nothing else can. There’s power in love to lift up and liberate when nothing else will. There’s power in love to show us the way to live.
“Imagine our homes and families when love is the way. Imagine neighborhoods and communities when love is the way. Imagine governments and nations when love is the way…
“When love is the way—unselfish, sacrificial, redemptive—then no child will go to bed hungry in this world every again. When love is the way, poverty will become history. When love is the way, we will lay down our swords and shields down by the riverside and study war no more. Because when love is the way, we actually treat each other like we are actually family.”
That should be the oath of office for every politician in our country.
(Larry Franklin is retired and lives in Clinton – for now.)