Well I will be watching it, ably encouraged by the fact that I live in a house of five females, young ladies of varying degrees of youngness to whom the Royal Wedding is akin to oxygen or the meaning of life. Even if I crossed the floor, the vote to watch the wedding would merely change from a 6 nil annihilation, to ayes 5 and the nays 1.
Before I am admonished by the deafening snort of republicans, might I kindly remind you that your number two spear chucker, Julia, Malcolm is number one, is fluffing around Buckingham Palace-Westminster precinct as we speak. Do not tell me it is just protocol that she attends. I well remember being run over by socially acceptable republicans as they made a bee line for HRH QE II on her last lunch at the Australian parliament.
In a world of uncertainty we barrack for the hope in the happily ever after life as never better espoused than by the Prince marrying his Princess. Let us just skip the Andrew and Charles bit. That was just a belated hangover from Bowie, The Stones and acid rock.
The Queen has evolved to that level where you ridicule her life of service at your political peril or as solid evidence that you really have had too many scotches and should have been taken home an hour ago.
The Republican always tells me that as an Australian, Commoner and Catholic I can not be the official head of State; I can not be the King of England. Well thank God for Common Catholic Australians. Anyway, if there was something wrong with common people, why did God make so many of them?
To live ones life as a human species of goldfish in the glass bowl of 24-7 news; that would truly be a never relenting hell. Think about it, would you really want the job. What better way to remove the problems of finding some poor suffering soul to do the job than make it hereditary. Bad luck you were born to be photographed and commented on for the rest of your days and the salacious interest in you will plaster glossy mags at the checkout of every supermarket, across the globe. You stop to have a leak and look up at the stars, next day, page one. On top of this you were born to be the role model for the nuclear family, happy, polite, patriotic and of course, you must breed. The fruit of your loins will be a global obsession.
So I think the royal family are great. When my daughters taunt me with suggestions of body piercing, tattoos and other forms of visual and oral profanity I just say "I wonder if Kate will go to her big day in pure white or with a cream off the shoulder number".
As making it past seven years married becomes a celebration in the modern world, the fact that two well meaning individuals in a far away island would do this form of very public high dive is admirable. Good luck to them.
I want them to succeed. I want them to be an example like their Grandmother, with that stoic unblinking service to the public, too disciplined to put a foot wrong. I want them to speak well and have good table manners. I want them to be dressed well and never to destroy my fairytale by showing signs of the very human weaknesses that I suspect they may be endowed with in the same quantity as the rest of us.
The retribution by the public will be acrimonious if they dare be less than perfect, if they dare destroy our fairytale of what we wish them to be as the global happy wife, happy life and fighter pilot father. I live at Buckingham palace but I am really just like you, family.
Mind you they are Royalty. The modern day contract with what will be on the weekend an adoring public, demands they are role models. An example of what we would wish to be. Abdication is the only way out and with that comes the stain of the defect in character that deserts the most important of public office, the living artifice of the template of family life.