Well, it’s not yet Friday. But if I may approach the elephant in the cyberspace room, Friday is the wedding of Prince William and Kate (soon-to-be-Princess Catherine) Middleton. Unless you have been living under a rock or holed up under Donald Trump’s hairpiece, you are aware of this.
Because the royal family didn’t bother to take my sleep needs into account when scheduling this blessed event, I have to get up at 6 a.m. to watch the
media victims happy couple arrive at Westminster Abbey. Did the royal family learn nothing from the last big event, back in 1981, when I had to stagger out of bed hours before swim team practice just to watch what would become the gold standard for weddings in my preteen mind? (Luckily it didn’t set the gold standard for marriages.)
Some are sick to death of hearing about these pending nuptials, some can’t get enough. Imagine how jaded the Tudor-era populace would have been if each of Henry VIII’s marriages got quite so much publicity!