I, like apparently two-billion other people around the world, watched part of the Royal Wedding. Actually, I saw it on the news the next day. I wasn't about to get up at one in the morning and watch it like some colleagues I know. Yep, they got up to specifically watch the Prince marry the common girl he had been living with for years. There are some observations I have noticed about myself in this process.
I like the English-all of them.
Just about any country that is or was part of the British Empire, I smile at. I think I like them because they like us. Sure, we have opinions about each other, but families do that. Still, we truly like each other and like to spend time together.
I like the Canadians. When the crazies in Iran invaded our embassy and took our people hostage for 444 days, they had several dozen Americans that were caught outside the embassy when it was taken over and they sheltered them in their own embassy, made them fake passports, citizens, and got them out with the rest of their own people, right out from under the Iranians noses. That was just good form.
The Aussies are the British version of American NASCAR lovers. They play hard, work hard, and were just a bunch of bandits cutting a life out of a area of the world that was just like ours, only sixty times bigger. They have common sense, dress comfortably, and frankly don't care what people think. If anyone doesn't like what the Australians do or say, they can get the hell out, thank you.
Then of course, there are those in the Motherland and its extension-Ireland. I am sure I am missing other territories and for that, I apologize. It is the Motherland that I really have discovered a true affection for. After all, Scotland's there and so is the birthplace of the single malt. I also like some of their words and phrases. 'Pish-posh' I heard one Brit say on TV.
Pish-posh-hmm.
I have a poster in my classroom taken from when the Brits were being bombed by those pesky Huns during WWII. It simply says, Say Calm, and Carry On. Well said-oh-there's another one-well said. Some how, I need to weave into my vocabulary pish-posh, The key is to not sound like Mary Poppins Italian towel boy.
Frankly, any place you can have a calm Welshmen, a sly Scot, and a crazy-eyed Irishman-or lady, together under the same cause, you got something no one wants to mess with but many want to be around.
Pish-posh? No, not yet.
Sure, they spent a lot of money on this thing. A lot of money in a country that is struggling economically. But you watch the people and there was a celebratory pride. It was part of their identity. It was their heritage.
It was part of ours.
Family.
There is something about this country and its people. They do put on a party really well. They drink hard, cheat at fighting, love their country and each other. The fact is, they can track their heritage back thousands of years. I noticed the prince doesn't even have a last name. Did you know that? No last name. Sure, he's from the house of Windsor. What does that mean? What name did he use on his driver's license application? I think the work 'prince' is in there somewhere. He rattled off five names when he was putting the ring on his brides hand. They were all first names. Good form.
Heritage. Sometimes it isn't so nice to look at. You look hard enough, you'll find that dark, ugly side. But then there's the colorful, hat wearing, flag-waving, singing out of tune, side of family.
Yep, good form.
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