Zestful Blog Post #124
I’ve always been grateful for my first name. I’m told my
mother considered naming me Marybeth, but my father said, “None of those
two-part hillbilly names.” So I got to be Elizabeth Mary. I’ve always felt a little
special, because of the Queen, you know. I’ve kept track of her over the years
and felt proud that she never betrayed our name by doing anything scandalous or
tacky. (Not a word from you about the handbags, not a word.)
When I was a student in London many years ago, the local
folks in the pubs loved to debate the issues of the day (and I’m sure still do).
A frequent topic was whether the monarchy was a good idea or a bad one, and I
witnessed some pretty heated arguments. But when a new round arrived at the
table, everybody, and I mean everybody would lift their pints and say in strong
voices, “Here’s to the Queen, God bless her.” Then the argument would resume.
I was thrilled, along with millions of Brits, when the Queen
last week won the longest-serving-monarch derby, snatching the title from
Victoria. Say what you will about the monarchy, Elizabeth was born into it and had
no real choice as far as that went. She did have the choice of being a terrific
head of state or a crummy one.
[photo by Cecil Beaton ripped off from official Buckingham Palace web site]
So yeah, she:
1) played
the hand she was dealt with courage and grace;
2) stuck
to her role as counsel and support for her various PMs;
3) weathered,
with dignity, horrible personal and family storms;
4) kept
on course through scathing criticism;
5) yet
embraced change when it seemed the right thing to do.
Not a bad way to live a life, whether you’re a writer or any
other sort of bloke or blokette.
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