Pomp and ceremony ('ear me now)

So, I see poor old Prince Philip is back in hospital again. Whatever one’s views on the royal family, surely no one likes to think of an old man in pain - especially if that’s caused by troubles with his waterworks. I remember when he and his wife (can’t for the life of me remember her name now) visited my city in May this year. I’d gone along to see if he’d be kind enough to sign my Purple Rain album. I noticed how much older, taller and whiter he was in real life compared to when I’d seen him perform on MTV, but it was only when I noticed that he lacked any facial hair that I realised I had got my princes muddled up.

When the royal couple pulled up in their immaculate Bentley, I was struck by just how genuinely happy and aglow Prince Philip was to see the crowd of children who were enthusiastically waving their little plastic union flags. I like to think that every young, ordinary carrier bag grows up with just a little hope in their heart that someday, if they wish incredibly hard (and carry the right people’s shopping) they may have the chance of being recycled into a royal flag on a stick.

The cynical part of me (which can at times grow really quite large and refuse to leave my mind - a bit like a novelty balloon in the shape of Susan Boyle being inflated by a child who is fascinated to see just how large she can get before going pop - note: that woman can take A LOT of helium), always imagined that the royals would be pretty blasé about the whole flag-waving children phenomenon. I mean, even by the end of just half an hour of standing in the same crowd, I was growing weary of all their fluttering.

But Prince Philip seemed nothing but absolutely delighted. It was like he was greeting his very own grandchildren - even with all the decades of public service, there was no way he could feign that type of enthusiasm. It was sincere and very lovely to see.

I once made a joke about him on twitter - somewhere along the lines of “Have you ever noticed how much Prince Philip looks like the Duke of Edinburgh? I’m sure they must be related.” As sometimes happens with tweets where I deliberately make a silly assertion for comedic effect, one helpful person corrected me on my error, revealing that they are actually the same person! Who knew?

It can, unfortunately, be hard to convey the correct tone of a message in a tweet, especially compared to making a joke remark in real life. For example, I once posted one somewhere along the lines of, “Before I was divorced, I used to leave little poems for my wife all around the house. Well, I say ‘poems’ but they were more like shopping lists and reminders about all the chores that she needed to do”. Most people know this is just humorous fiction, but one lady (who I’ve since realised just isn’t on my wavelength), was disgusted by my behaviour.

Anyway, back to our friend Phil. At one time, I was no big fan of the royal family. If a woman wearing a lanyard whilst brandishing a clipboard had pushed me on it, I would have answered her that I was a republican. But I feel very differently now. I’m not sure whether it’s just the setting in of old age that has done it, or whether I’ve been caught up in the fervour of recent royal weddings and jubilees, but I’m quite into pomp and ceremony these days (to the point where if I were going to set up an underground dub-step / reggae cross over act, ‘Pomp and Ceremony’ would be their name).

We need some kind of head of state. Would I rather this were a president? Just a glance at how the whole American presidential thing is enough to tell me that is something I’m glad we don’t have to endure. Would I want David Cameron or the nasally chap who sits opposite him and isn’t his brother to be on our stamps? No way!

What we’ve got right now, seems to work okay. Watching events where the eyes of the world are upon us - such as the Jubilee or Olympics makes me think, what other country could do this? Where else on earth could you see all this grandeur and tradition? Okay, yes, maybe Las Vegas, but aside from there? Exactly.