I was very pleased to see that the crown prince’s lovely wife is doing so well:
Britain’s Princess of Wales says her cancer is in remission
Those of you who were used to getting hard news at this URL in years past may moan, That’s what you want to talk about? Princesses and knights in shining armor? Will it be unicorns next?
Well, no, I’m commenting on this because I know what I’d like to say about it, which is that I’m very pleased that the lady is doing well.
I mean, I think I’m probably pleased that with U.S. help in these last days of our republic, Israel and Hamas are apparently nearing a deal. But I don’t know all the details, and if anybody on the planet can trash a deal at the last second, it’s these parties.
Then, of course, there’s all that fire out in California. Well, I’m against it, and I’d like to see them put a stop to it, with minimum casualties. But I really hope the folks out there know how, because I don’t.
So I’m left with this.
You may say the princess’ condition doesn’t concern me. I beg to differ. As one of the lady’s countrymen wrote:
No man is an island,
Entire of itself;
Every man is a piece of the continent,
A part of the main.
If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less,
As well as if a promontory were:
As well as if a manor of thy friend’s
Or of thine own were.
Any man’s death diminishes me,
Because I am involved in mankind.
And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls;
It tolls for thee.
And the way I see it, that goes for every woman as well. It’s a better world if any young woman survives to see her children grow up. And not just when one of those children will someday be king. It goes for a simple shopgirl as well. It’s just that I don’t know about the shopgirl, and I do know about Kate, and I am pleased
Frances Trollope
I gave my wife a book for Christmas. I had been looking up something about Anthony Trollope on Wikipedia, and I saw that his mother had written a book that was well received, called Domestic Manners of the Americans, published in 1832. I ordered it from Amazon that very day, and my wife has been enjoying it and sharing what she has read with me. I’ve learned that one thing Mrs. Trollope didn’t particularly like about Americans was they way they were so stuck up about being free and independent and not having nothing to do with no kings or princesses or none of that eurotrash nonsense, and they didn’t mind telling her so, frequently.
Well, they may have been rough (Mrs. Trollope mentions what some of them smelled like as they approached), but back in those days they had room to talk. They had a great new country going, and it would produce great things for the world for almost two more centuries. And I’m proud of all that, too.
But now that a majority of Americans have gone out of their way to put the running of our country into the worst hands they can find, I’m not feeling nearly as bullish about our democratic republic as I have been, all of my life up to now. Maybe elections aren’t quite the universal blessing we once thought they were.
So if I run into any descendant of Frances Trollope who is touring our country and forming impressions of us, I won’t be nearly as smug or standoffish as some of my countrymen were long ago. I might wish her joy upon the recovery of the princess. And I might espress a sincere wish that God will save the king as well…
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