I asked my best friend if she was interested in the Royal Wedding, and I really expected her to say, “not really.”
To my surprise, she said not only was she setting her alarm for 4 a.m. on Friday, she was also taking the day off from work. She wanted to watch it live and did not want to miss a single minute of the splendor. Like the British, she was declaring Friday a personal holiday.
This long time friend of mine loves pomp and circumstance and anything historical, not to mention any excuse to stay home from work.
I asked my sophisticated, hip hairdresser if she had any interest in the big wedding, expecting, again, indifference. Silly me! She already had programmed her DVR on two networks. Me too!
Unless you’re a guy, it’s next to impossible not to get excited about watching Kate Middleton, a commoner, marry William, His Royal Highness, Prince Charming himself, son of the beloved Princess Diana.
Most women are suckers for fairy tale romances, especially one of this magnitude. Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty are timeless Disney classics, but they are movies. This is real!
England’s future king and queen, a beautiful, young and personable couple, will promise to love and cherish each other before a world-wide audience. Kate will not promise to obey William.
“Get your own slippers, Wills. I’m your princess, not your lady-in-waiting.”
Speculation is that one-third of the world’s population will watch the royal nuptials.
Everyone’s wondering what will Kate wear? Will her hair be up or down? Will William and Kate beat Charles and Camilla to the throne? (Please, yes). Will Prince Harry go wild at the reception? Could anything possibly go wrong despite all the meticulous planning? What’s Al Roker doing there?
Why couldn’t they have gotten married in the afternoon so the rest of us wouldn’t have to get up at such an ungodly hour? But we’ll do it because we want to be there as much as Elton John and Al Roker even if it’s in our bathrobes.
And to all you men out there, whom are you kidding? You’re curious too. You just would never admit it.
- Betty Roccograndi