Royal weddings? Appeal is real!

I've always loved royal weddings. In 1947 after Queen  Elizabeth and Philip were married, I pored over the issue of Life Magazine containing photo-coverage of the event. I was seven-and-a-half years old, and clearly royal life reflected the fairy tales I was now old enough to read to myself. When my sixth grade teacher arranged for penpals from an English school, all I wanted to ask my penpal about about were questions about the soon-to-be coronated Queen and her royal family. After the coronation in 1953, I kept a scrapbook of the pictures of the event. So this fettish has been with me nearly all my life.

In July 1981, another royal wedding was all the buzz. Without the unlimited possibilities of seeing thousands of photo-stories on the Internet that we now enjoy, the only real way to experience the wedding was to watch it live--and that's exactly what I did! I had friends just as interested in seeing the real event in real time, so I put together a party!

Please don your fanciest hat, the invitation read. Feel free to wear bathrobes, pajamas, etc. but don't forget your gloves! Please arrive by 5:30 a.m. in plenty of time to enjoy tea and crumpets before gathering in our family room in front of our TV to watch the pomp and circumstance live!

And yes, all seven party guests all wore hats!

  

In Wauwatosa, Wisconsin (where we lived in 1981), no street parking was allowed  between 2 and 6 a.m. I contacted the police department ahead of time to let it know there'd be a number of cars parking outside my house before the 6:00 a.m. restriction was lifted. "Thanks for letting us know," was the response from the police clerk. "Your party sounds like a great idea!" I'm pretty sure she would have accepted an invitation, if I had extended one to her.

 My friends and I had a great time watching. With sixteen or eighteen eyes on the boxy TV's screen (albeit black and white), there was little about the ceremony that we missed. Unlike the guests who were at St. Paul's in person, we could chatter and exclaim aloud over every little detail. My three sons and their father slept through and/or ignored the event, although my eldest, seventeen-year-old Andrea, joined us with at as much enthusiasm as anyone.

Everyone left shortly after the wedding because a "regular" Wednesday loomed. The dishes were washed, food put away, and table-cloth and napkins in the laundry by the time I left my house that morning for work at Northwestern Mutual Life in downtown Milwaukee. I remember telling people at work that it had been the easiest party I'd ever given!

Tomorrow morning in Bothell (two hours earlier than Wauwatosa), my alarm will go off at 3:30. I'll don a bathrobe to stave off the morning chill, pour myself a cup of coffee and serve up a sweet roll as I watch, transfixed, the pomp and circumstance surrounding the wedding of Prince Harry and Meghan. I breifly considered asking friends to join me, but judging from the gasping responses when I relay the story about the 1981 party, I'd have no takers. So this one I'll watch by myself, sans hat and gloves. Even without the party-commeraderie, however, I can hardly wait for the pomp and circumstance to begin!