THE QUEEN AND ME
The Queen, God bless her, was 80 years old on Friday. She is, by any standards a remarkable lady. Looking like a fit and sprightly 60 year old, she walked out of her 1000 year old castle to spend the best part of an hour mingling with many thousands of her subjects, young and old, who had turned out to wish her Happy Birthday. Accompanied by Prince Phillip, who is 5 years older, they were both fit enough to walk around chatting and smiling, collecting vast armfuls of flowers, cards, and assorted gifts.
She was totally at ease among her people, and although I am sure there was some security around, it was not visible, and she was not surrounded by burly men in raincoats with guns. Instead she had a lady to take the flowers off her, a couple of old duffers in ceremonial uniform, and boy scouts to ferry the flowers and gifts away. Imagine George Bush daring to do that. When he visited London last year, he was too scared to ride in an open carriage with the Queen, or even venture out for a welcoming ceremony, which therefore had to be held behind the railings of Buckingham Palace. He was ferried everywhere in a ridiculous bullet proof limousine or by helicopter, as if London was as dangerous as Baghdad. In fact, it is a damn site safer than Washington DC.
We have all grown up with the Queen. At the age of 14, she made her first speech to the nation, in which she pledged that her life, whether it be long or short, would be dedicated to the service of this country. 66 long years later, she can say that she has not once wavered from that promise or let her country down.
Calm and unflappable, steadfast, cheerful and hard working, she has come to embody the spirit of the British Nation. Her Coronation in 1953, when she was a very beautiful young woman was such an awesome ceremonial that those of us who saw it on television have never forgotten it. We sat glued to the screen from early morning until late at night, transfixed by the pagentry, and it had such an effect on the Queen herself that she now feels almost as if chosen by God, sort of married to Britain and the thought of retirement is out of the question, now matter how demanding the job may be.
Through the good times and the bad, the Queen has always been there for us, representing us, sharing our joys and our sorrows, even if we have not always been there for her. She has seen 10 Prime Ministers come and go, from Churchill through Thatcher to Blair, and her advice and vast experience has been valued by all of them, yet even they never discover her private thoughts and ideas--she remains totally impartial.
All her life, the Queen has lived in a goldfish bowl, all be it a very luxurious one, a sort of golden cage, where she is surrounded by officials and ceremonial. She must have attended many thousand official meals and functions, toured countless factories, army bases, schools, etc, eaten tons of overcooked chicken and have shaken many million hands, yet has never been known to complain or show how much her feet were aching. She has attended more church services than the Pope, made more speeches than any politician, visited more countries than the US Airforce, and that is saying something.
She is a competely regal lady, who can wear the most fabulous jewellery and diamond encrusted dresses in the world on state occasions, yet be more at home with a tweed skirt and a headscarf riding her horse through the wilderness, be seen feeding her dogs, or at a race meeting, jumping up and down with excitement.
In this modern fast changing world, there are those who speak of abolishing Monarchy, of Britain becoming a republic, but whenever they get the chance, such as the Queens Golden Jubilee a couple of years ago, the people turned out in their countless thousands to wildly cheer her all the way along her procession, to chant at the Palace gates for her to appear to them, just as they always did.
She has become the Mother of Britain, and Britain has as much respect and affection for her as they would a Mother, and long may she reign.
Even now, she can sometimes work up to an 18 hour day, and it was on one of those that I came face to face with her. I was crossing a street in London, and suddenly, within 3 feet of me was the Queen, sitting in her (none bullet proof) car, and yes, she did smile at me, a suprisingly shy, girlish smile, but I was so shocked that I did not smile back. Apparently, she is used to that reaction. There were no wailing sirens, no cars full of security men, no police outriders, just one policeman on a motor bike to stop the traffic as she passed. She was on her way to a full day touring all the theatres in London, before attending a banquet in the evening.
If she reads this, perhaps I may be lucky enough to be one of the 18,000 people who attend her garden parties each year, or perhaps I may be sent to the Tower of London, where at least I may be able to polish the crown jewels every day for her.
Happy Birthday Ma'am
