KAMLOOPS — THE FIRST QUESTION asked after every royal birth is, what will the baby be named?
And the second is, do you care? A lot, apparently, don’t. I’m ambivalent.
I have nothing against babies —most people I know began as babies — but I can’t get all giggly over a little kid who is seven places away from being on the Royal Throne. That means six of his closest relatives would have to die or abdicate before he’d get his turn. His chances are slim.
Royal babies are supposed to get us all gooey but this event lacks a lot of the buzz of others. If, however, I hear the U.S. media call him “the American royal baby” or brag just one more time how the “American Princess” — a.k.a. a former minor TV actress — is “changing the monarchy,” I’m going to be ill.
One royal watcher speculated yesterday that the baby’s name might pay homage to the American side of his heritage. May I be the first to suggest Donald, or maybe Bubba?
But let’s be kind. The fact this baby is biracial is a nice thing and maybe symbolically important in these unfortunate racist times.
But I feel sorry for the little guy. He’s destined to be not much more than a passenger on the royal train, consigned to a life of cutting ribbons and sponsoring charities after graduating from royal military college.
Being royal is no easy gig at the best of times. I stress that I’m a monarchist in that I think our royals do have a purpose, which is to give us something to text and Facebook about other than showing off our beach vacations.
Let’s wish our newest prince all the best. He’ll need it.
I’m Mel Rothenburger, the Armchair Mayor.
Editor’s Note: This opinion piece reflects the views of its author, and does not necessarily represent the views of CFJC Today or the Jim Pattison Broadcast Group.
