As a philosophic, if not strictly speaking historical, descendant of those original tea party patriots, the Colonists who suggested King George go stuff himself and his dynamic dynasty, I'm having a rough week processing all the carnival trappings that surrounded the birth Monday of a son to Kate Middleton and her hubby, a/k/a Prince William, Duke of Cambridge KG, KT, ADC (P) (feel free to leave some letters for the rest of us your Royal Bubness). Why are Americans so gooey-eyed about this particular baby?
On any given day in this world, about 367,000 babies are born. In the time it took you to read that sentence another 4.3 (or so) came along. Wolf Blitzer was and is NOT standing by for any of them. But for George Alexander Louis (I had been hoping for John Paul George Ringo, but that may have been too British), we've got a double-wide uplink truck in the hospital parking lot and hot and cold production crews in the foyer just beyond the delivery room.
Perhaps I am coming across as too much of a curmudgeon in a moment of deserved joy for the House of Windsor if not Pancakes. Be not deceived, I like babies. I was one a very long time ago, briefly, though my children when they themselves were children often doubted that, and with excellent reason.
I had trouble understanding the delay in giving the boy a name-and yeah, I grasp it's a tradition to wait but that still doesn't make it good or understandable. I'm glad they've got it sorted out because the whole thing reminded me of a Monty Python skit, though which one escapes me at the moment. Perhaps ? I suppose not. Well, at least I curtailed my Walpoling activities.
On Monday as will be the case again today, law of averages prevailing and where not taxed or void by law, we added the equivalent of the population of New Orleans to this cozy little posse we have here on the Big Blue Marble but everyone, everywhere, was fascinated with the public spectacle (that their interest created) in a moment of private, family joy.
Perhaps we can take a break in the celebrations now that the Royal Couple have actually named their son and we can each take a moment, though more than that would be nice, to rededicate ourselves to the children of all ages on this earth who are growing up with and often without us.
-bill kenny
Ramblings of a badly aged Baby Boomer who went from Rebel Without a Cause to Bozo Without a Clue in, seemingly, the same afternoon.
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