Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: MONDAY, October 24, 1994 TAG: 9412010035
SECTION: EXTRA PAGE: 1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: BEN BEAGLE
DATELINE: LENGTH: Medium
Of course, the Queen Mum always appears to have a sick headache, but we are talking Extra-Strength Tylenol here. She even dresses like a sick headache.
Dash it all, Charlie, the poor beggar, says in the book that his father forced him into a loveless marriage with Princess Diana, who is said by some to be no better than she should be. It's said the poor girl was bulimic, as well.
One has to wonder what Will Shakespeare would have made of this dreadful muddle. I suspect the poor fellow might have had trouble deciding whether to write a comedy or a tragedy.
One also wonders where Charlie's sense of empire is. Wot? Oh, that's right. There is no empire anymore, and I'm glad Rudyard Kipling didn't live to see that.
It may a bit sordid of me to say so, but Fergie has always been a favorite of mine among the royal women. There's a girl who's not afraid of a bit of fish and chips or kidney pie every now and again.
I find it especially disheartening to hear Charlie blame much of his trouble on his father. The old man, it seems to me, was never a strong person. If he and the Queen Mum were entered in the Daytona 500, I'm sure she would jolly well pit at all the right times and take the flag - which I believe to be the correct American phrase for winning a race.
The drivel above is, of course, arrant trash. You can't drive in the Daytona 500 wearing clothes resembling what your Aunt Zelda wore to the family reunion in 1937.
My father never forced me into anything. Once, in 1944, he did threaten to put my mattress and clothes on the front lawn if I didn't find a job and keep it.
He said almost daily that I wouldn't accept gainful employment in a pie shop with my sole responsibility being the biting of holes in doughnuts.
I think he thanked the secretary of the Selective Service Board when I was drafted after World War II was over. The secretary looked quite like Fergie, as a matter of fact, although not quite so plump.
I'm dreadfully sorry. The memory of the draft board secretary caused me to lose my train of thought for a moment.
Oh, righto. The prince and his father.
Actually, I'd like to forget the entire dismal affair, have a pint or two, and think about Richard III for a while.
by CNB