Ah, I remember the headlines fondly - Sex Pistols call the Queen a moron! - written, somewhat alarmingly by journalists whose tools of trade was supposed to be the English language.
I remember too a BBC journalist describing in shock, horror tones how "a mile from Ceaucescu's luxury palace, people are living rough on the street" and I remember wondering how many homeless people lived within a mile of Buck House.
I remember the OTT outpourings of grief from "the people who grinned themselves to death," as the Housemartins called them, over the untimely death of a socialite who spent most of her life at the hairdressers.
I realise I may be offending people here, something I don't like to do, and I apologise. I just don't get the monarchy, or rather, why it is tolerated by the working classes. Why would people be happy to pay taxes to support that kind of lifestyle?
But anyway, even I have been touched by wedding fever. I am thrilled that the wonderful Poetry 24 site have published a poem of mine on the impending nuptials. Please go over and comment what a marvellous poem it is, so that they might be fooled into thinking its pretty good.