The Royal Wedding-Hatless and In Pajamas.



Princess Beatrice wins for craziest hat.

In 1947, just two years after the devastation of WWII and in the midst of great hardship and sacrifice for England, Sir Winston Churchill referred to the grand hoopla surrounding the wedding of Queen Elizabeth II as a "flash of color on the hard road we have to travel."

But just recently, newsman Dan Rather, wrote a long condemnation of the coverage of last week's wedding between Prince William and Kate Middleton, citing a litany of horrific events that the images of the royal affairs had knocked from the headlines.

I think Dan disproved his own point with his meticulous enumeration. It is the relentless disaster and despair that elevate a story like the wedding to such popularity. It doesn't mean we've stopped caring about what's happening in the "real world but it may keep me from sniffing my Sharpie today. 

Royal wedding, distract me. Please!

With that in mind, I was awake on the morning of the nuptials, ready to watch from the snug comfort of my bed. Yet, today, in front, of my usual Sunday news shows, I was right back in the nightmare.

I felt a bit refreshed, however. It felt somewhat like after having returned from vacation because, for a few hours on Friday, I was in Westminster Abbey watching a parade of the most crazy-ass hats I have ever seen in my life, wondering why the Archbishop of Canterbury looked as if he'd been involved in a street brawl directly before performing the ceremony and realizing that the stuffed capon who entered the church in a morning coat was actually Elton John.

The presence of those hats, by the way, blew the whole "stiff upper lip" thing the British are famous for, right out of the water. They may be very restrained in terms of public demeanor but the truth came out in those spaceships, satellite dishes, canoes and live poultry that were perched upon the heads of the women sedately entering the church.


I also loved learning about British protocol from the commentators.

Lighten up. Look who you're married to.

For example, David Beckham, although fabulously handsome, commited a faux pas by wearing some silly medal on the wrong lapel (and whose wife, Posh Spice, appeared alarmingly catatonic in her attempt to seem dignified).

It was also mentioned that Queen Elizabeth does not sing along to "God Save the Queen" but it would have been much funnier if she had, perhaps punching the air a few times for emphasis, wouldn't it? I also learned that, at any social gathering, when she switches her handbag from one arm to the other, it's a signal to her aides to get her the hell out of there. Good to know.

I got caught up on all I'll ever need to know about curtsying, as well, which I intend to put to good use at Charlie's upcoming graduation. And they say women from Brooklyn don't have class. Ha!

I thought the bride looked gorgeous and her groom actually seemed happy in distinct contrast to the grim Charles in footage of his big day thirty years prior and I enjoyed a rare moment of benevolence, hoping that Kate and William live long happy lives together.

Pretty darn cute.

Being the mother of two boys of comparable ages to the princes, I enjoyed a hearty, private sob fest because their mama wasn't with them for the momentous occasion. I vowed, on the spot, to never drive away from the paparazzi at unsafe speeds.

London is one of the few places I have visited and it was lots of fun to see the streets taken over by happy crowds and scenes of a festive country -- for the most part and for the moment -- enjoying a day of celebration.

England has marked the weddings of their monarchs in similar fashion (with only an occasional subsequent beheading) for hundreds and hundreds of years. Why stop now?

So, Dan Rather, I'm sorry the whole event made you so cranky. I, for the most part, other than being worried that the terrifying eyebrows of the Archbishop would actually tickle the faces of the bride and groom as he read their vows, had a blast.

The Archbishop using his eyebrows to scare me.