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Queen’s Dead, Feelin’ Old…
I’m not a Royal watcher. In fact, I’d go so far as to say I’m not a fan of the Royal family at all. I stopped caring about their weddings after I got up at 5 am on July 29, 1981, 2 days after my 10th birthday to watch the shitshow that was Chucky and Di.
I was never a big fan of the Queen. I remember the story my father told me about her inspecting troops in Canada back in the 50s when she was still Princess Elizabeth. Dad was told to stand back, she’d be uncomfortable shaking his Black hand. He refused. He figured, he signed up to fight and die alone side these White men, he’d damn well greet her alongside them too. And I’ll give her this, she did shake his hand.
And now she’s dead. I mean you can’t really cry. 96 is a pretty good run. It’s a lot more than most of us get. It’s not exactly shocking.
What is shocking is that I actually feel a twinge of sadness. Sadness for a person, and a family that really, has been irrelevant to me for decades. Truth told, as a Canadian, I don’t know why we don’t just divest ourselves of the Crown. it’s an outdated, outmoded vestige from a bygone era that we can ill-afford.
We have homeless and hungry people. We have a healthcare system that is crumbling, and I mean that in literal terms…
