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The Caged Prince Will Soon Be King

 
 
          I am only a few months younger that Prince Charles and I have watched his world from a distance like many others have.   I have always been partial to him and have admired the caged bird as he sang his song of global warming, conservation and so many other intelligent and well considered issues and causes that he has initiated and supported.
 
         From the beginning his destiny was sealed, he was the heir so didn't have the freedom afforded to 'the spares', and he had done a remarkably good job...in my opinion.    Alas I have never had the privilege of meeting him so I cannot speak of him in any way other than as a member of the British population over which he will reign, but I am happy at the prospect of Charles being my King.
 
         Throughout his life Prince Charles had been plagued by the newspapers and has had to live out his dramas in the public eye courtesy of our gutter press.   And it is that same eye that has been ever vigilant when his errors of judgment were universally published in order that money could be made out of his demise, and it has always boiled down to money.
 
         In his youth he was accused of being too weak to handle the challenges of being educated at Gordonstoun, a place that sounded very grim to me, and for someone of a more thoughtful persuasion I am sure it was unadulterated hell.   From puberty on Charles' every move has been analysed and monitored and he has been vilified in the press on a regular basis, thus influencing our collective opinion of him.  
 
         Imagine living in a goldfish bowl where your every move was observed and then have some sympathy for the man who has had to endure seventy years of disapproval for simply being who he is, while all around him consider themselves qualified to judge him, often for what we have done ourselves albeit that our actions have not come into public view.
 
         As a younger man Charles met a young woman and fell in love, unfortunately Camilla   was not suitable back then because 'she had a past' and our future king needed a virgin bride.   Their love has endured more difficulties than most of us can imagine, yet they did finally marry and I am sure Camilla will be a wonderfully supportive queen.
 
         The Diana debacle never ceases, we saw a gauche and ill educated girl selected merely because she was high born and virginal, and Charles' feelings were dismissed in deference to his 'duty'.   The marriage was a miserable failure because neither spouse had any real affection for the other and their only bond seems to have been the two sons that they both adored and who the public have taken to their hearts.    Diana made much of there having been a third person in their marriage and gave sideways looks as she revealed a very devious aspect to her character.   She seems to have naively imagined that he would give up the love of his life for her, but if any of you have had a love of your life, you will know that you cannot give them up, no matter how hard people try to keep you apart.
 
         Over time we learned that Diana had stalked a man, had very unwise liaisons with others and the ultimate insult and stamp of her foot was to begin a romance with Dodi Fayed.   I was sorry that she died but it was a rather large leap to imagine that Charles had her murdered, they were already divorced and she was on her hedonistic decline into notoriety for all the wrong reasons.
 
         The public loved Diana, they drank in her sad faced appearances and her seeming loneliness and we bought it hook line and sinker, it was all Charles' fault.   So, while she put the washing on the line and wore revenge dresses and retaliated with dalliances with wholly unsuitable men, Charles kept his mouth well and truly shut except to talk of global warming and non bio degradable plastics while founding the Prince's Trust and talking a lot of sense.    In her column today Anne Diamond reminded us that Prince Charles was guilty of 'dreadful blunders, the worst of course, being an appalling husband to Princess Diana' which was followed by a bit of faux deference to our future monarch.   I am sure Ms Diamond has made her own blunders, who hasn't?    but who know what sort of wife Princess Diana was, we weren't there so lets not stand in judgement of a couple who had an arranged marriage that failed, and remember that if he had had his way he would doubtless have married Camilla.
 
         The press and public don't seem to like that Charles has persistently talked sense and has been something of a trailblazer in terms of his ideas and remedies.  We seem to want him to be a sort of eccentric buffoon who knows nothing of real life, hence we read that he has an inch of toothpaste squeeze onto his tooth brush.   So what say I!  Does it matter?  After all he has a very busy schedule and works jolly hard.
 
         These weird little nuggets of eccentricity come from people like the truly odious Paul Burrell, a former servant of the British Royal Household, who crawls out of the woodwork every time he thinks he can make a quid or two out of some tit bit or other.   He was a servant, not Diana's best friend, he is a mincing toady who sought vicarious 'fame' by likening himself to Diana's right hand and, according to him, her confidante - methinks not!   After Diana's death he had to 'return' a number of valuable items that seem to have fallen into his swag bag claiming that they were 'gifts' until a court of law said that they most certainly were not.   The cringing fop apparently hasn't seen Diana's boys for years but pop's up whenever possible and tells the world that Diana would have been proud of them, do we really need him to tell us that, of course she would have been proud of them, as is their father.
 
         I must admit now that I am not really a Royalist, I just think that Charles has been taken apart too many times.   He is now happy with his wife and is going to reign to the best of his ability - so please give the man a break,  while I will be waiting in the wings waiting to say "I told you so!"
 
         
 


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Get Over It and Yourself!


This picture of a little tree had a profound impact on me when I saw it.

Dame Nature doing her thing, survival where none seems possible, all the elements of real drama and the struggle for life in the fact that that a little tree grew from the remains of another.
 
I look around our planet in the thoughtful manner that is the prerogative of the seriously over the hill gang that I now find myself in.   To younger people we 'old folk' are virtually invisible as they rush to their mirrors, telephones in hand to take yet another selfie.
 
 I must confess, now,  that I really don't get selfies, or pictures of your food and cups of coffee.   I don't get the desperation to be seen in every available location duck pouting with companions to convince followers that you are having a good time, or are the trying to convince yourselves?
 
We've all done it.  Back in my day, via conversation, we would blag and brag about the  fantastic times that we weren't really having.    Now, with the advent of social media this has become epidemic and has reach a level the madness of which has never been know.
 
I see endless cups, plates and pouts and wonder what the point is, I get that we like to put on a happy front, but really, who amongst us is truly happy with their lot?     Actually I am, but not entirely, and it has taken almost seventy years to reach my state of personal bliss.
 
One of the few human truths is that none of us knows what is happening in the lives of other, we cannot read minds and, for so many people these days, life is extraordinarily hard as they judge themselves negatively in comparison with the filtered images of their idols who look nothing like their alter egos in real life.
 
  Real life remains a constant reminder to media jockeys that they aren't thin enough, tall enough, or simply too much of what is not trending at the moment.   I see all these little sheep like girls desperately trying to clone themselves into look alikes of their heroines as they contour their faces, adding bizarre white spots to their noses where Rudolph's was red. They also plump up their lips and wear what looks remarkably like insulation tape placed a la Groucho Marx on their brows. And let me tell you girlies, most of your boys do not like the look, other than the over groomed boys that silently attach themselves to such super women.
 
  Fake will always be fake, my blue streak is blue as a testament to fakery, while my hair is almost white now which testifies to my age.    I recently got slammed by someone on Instagram who took offence at my invited comment to an Instagram post of  two tiny girls dressed to look like Kardashians, they looked awful, to me.    My critic then proceeded to tell me that when compared to their shit, my face was much worse.   My reply was simply that at seventy its supposed to look like this!   I cannot and will not apologise for being old, it is now my role on the slippery slope to my death.   I will also not apologise for having an opinion but I cannot forgive the stupidity of someone not comparing like for like.   I pointed out that if I were my critic I would be alarmed that such a venomous reaction was generated by a simple comment made by a septuagenarian, a stranger who has the right not to like something.  
 
   Such a mordant and visceral response to the trivia of modern life is what concerns me for your futures.   So much of modern life seems to be about obsessive and seriously compulsive narcissism  that leads to puerile terms such as 'influencer' 'creative'.   We all influence the people in our lives and most of us have a streak of creativity, indeed I have influenced people and can be quite creative, but I don't for one minute imagine that I am in a league set apart from the mere mortals because I can do either.   Such is the arrogance of some nonentity 'celebrities' that I recently heard one refer to herself in the third person as she entered a room.   The fact that she has nominal celebrity means not one jot to me, and I fear such arrogance will undermine the balance of one or many lives in due course.
 
  The point is that we much continue to have an occasional reality check.   As those of you who know me are aware, I work at the sticky end of life, down among the dead folk.   I speak for them, tell their truth and say fuck and bollocks in chapels all over the place if they did, because that is who they are and I am not so prissy that I cannot use real words.   It actually amuses me to occasionally 'explete' like a trooper in the course of my work and the notion of being paid to amuses the fuck out of me!
 
From now on I think I will go into 'Get over it' mode when I blog, I see so much from this old vantage point that I would like to enlighten you all with the sheer inanity of thinking too much of yourself, because sooner or later you'll be the one in the box that I am attending to and I would like to be able to say good things about your rather than telling lies.  
 
So, please, remember to be real sometimes, life is never going to fab and wonderful for all of your life.   Learn from the shitty episodes and when your time comes someone like me will be happy to attend to your final reckoning.
 
I'm still loving this thing called, my life, please love yours enough to make sense of it, because at the end of the day, none of us will be here forever.    So try to do some good at some point in your day, it may be remembered and become part of your eulogy.
 
 
 
 

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