The hills and dales are alive with the sound of music – Mendelssohn’s Wedding March anticipating the wedding of Prince Harry and Meghan and it is sheer garbage meant to distract folks from the awfulness around us. Listen fellow women – there is only one Prince Harry and you do not particularly want him. His mother died when he was young and he is forever scared. When his mother was around she was not very good at mothering because she had been abandoned herself. Diana’s mother left her, her sibs and the Earl of Spencer for some dashing foreigner (Egyptian if my memory servers me well). A man, any man, cannot meet a movie star, fall in ‘love’, start all over and live happily ever after. You cobble together a life and carry on with ongoing problems with loss and attachment. What, pray tell, does this couple have in common? Their lives could not be more different. She has to sacrifice everything for this union – her career, her home, her country and even, apparently, her charities. All of this to be a princess. Now that is well and good but look at what happened to Harry’s Mom. She was a princess and she was not happy at all – dreadfully unhappy and most of the players are the same players in Meghan’s life. They all may be royal but they are not particularly kind or motherly or empathetic. Princess Diane’s death was tragic but did occur because she was not wearing a seat belt and had bad taste in men at the end. Do let us get a grip. I also think that Prince Harry is not particularly bright and Meghan does appear to be very smart. That is not a good union – the dumb guy, smart girl scenario is fraught with difficulty, always has been and always will be. So if one is riveted to wedding news it is cheerier fodder than Trump and no gun control and mass murders but it no hope for the future of anyone – not even the happy couple. This myth of the perfect union is probably, in part, genetic but do lets look at it carefully. One cannot expect another person to make you happy – how logically can that take place? If you have to cling to something – cling to a life raft not another person. My uncle did not have a life jacket and so he drowned on July 11, 1948. His ‘beloved’ wife Eunice ‘caused’ him to drown and he was trying to fish her purse out of the lake. Do not tell me about true love. So there! So there! So there!
What news is being hidden from us by the flurry of this royal wedding. I was told today, by a reliable source, that this fair city is months away from melt down – the bubble is going to burst. The information is out there – If interest rates continue to rise there will be bankruptcies galore and people will be losing their homes. But do not let us pay any attention to that – let us be massively consumed wondering what Megan’s dress is going to look like. Do not look or consider the fact that this city is the money laundering capital of the world, instead focus on whether Elton John or somebody else is going to sing.
But this stupidity is not limited to the royal couple. The Vancouver Sun reported on May 7,2018 that Canadians are lukewarm about marriage and that ‘fewer than half of Canadians think it is important for couples who plan to spend their lives together to be married, according to a new poll.” What are they thinking? They are clearly not thinking and being terrible unrealistic. One needs the institution of marriage when relationships fail. There has to be laws, known and trusty mechanisms to deal with the division of property. Who gets the house? Who gets the kids? Who can visit the kids? How is this decided when there is no marriage but a loose configuration of two flawed individuals, pray tell. When one looks at it the people that do NOT marry are stuck with one another. They are not loyal and loving, they are stuck. I was married three times – I got divorced and the spoils were divided. My second and third marriages were characterized by pre-nuptial agreements without which I would not be living in the wonderful manner I am at the moment. I once lived with a man and we bought property together. We had a contract and when he did not honor it I sued him and I won in a court of law. One does not mess with me. I did not have children and that made separation and divorce feasible and acceptable. No one was affected by our break up. Number One husband immediately married and remains married to a woman I teasingly refer to as the ‘replacement wife’ Number 2 is dead everyone thinks and Number 3 recently died. Number 3 did not remarry – probably no one would have him. I love living alone AND having no men in my life. Neither George nor Boris panned out (see prior blogs) and I am vastly relieved. I have the loyalty of other men. For example, Sir Richard of Hot.
Me: My life is so varied and complicated that if they are going to make a movie of it – there will have to be five.
He: If not more!
Me: That is so funny. Can I blog it?
He: As if I could stop you, I will send you a message to remind you.
Another trainer, Middle Name, and I were talking of a group of men I had known in the past when I was at the Trump and recently saw.
Me: And they loved me.
He: We all do!
Me: And you are being serious, aren’t you?
But I am not going to live with any of them, not have children by any of them and not marry them – which is too bad for them with the death benefit and all. I am a valuable commodity. So there! So there! So there!
I continue to enjoy to the max Cobra’s Clutch and I am communicating with its author A.J. Devlin. We have reached a compromise. He did acknowledge that it was my book and I could do what I wanted with it.
Me: I will compromise. I will write in pencil
He: Sounds good! I appreciate the pencil. It is of course 100% your book (you could light it on fire if you wanted to for crying out loud) but the thought of my third baby marked up permanently by pen saddens me so I appreciate the compromise!
He: Who is your favorite character?
Me: I will read on and decide and perhaps blog it.
Well I did read on but this totally caught my eye. Stormy Daze is such a colorful character. She says to Jed:
He: I, uh did my best, I stammered.
Stormy: Your best. Losers are always whining about their best. Winners go home and fuck the prom queen.
How can you help but love a woman who would say that? There is a description of her that I want in my obituary. Stay tuned – I will write of it later.
I have a huge day planned. I am going to the Levy collection at VAG and ‘speak to’ some chosen paintings. I include a photograph of one of that I am planning to write about. Then I have Tea and Trumpets in the afternoon. Tally-ho.