The Day I Didn't Meet the Queen

Well, I pretty much avoided all of it - the Platinum Jubilee, obviously.  It was pretty easy really - I just avoided the main TV channels and any public places, like parks or the local shopping centre, for four days and was able to pretend nothing was going on.  There were no street parties in my area, (at least, none that I was invited to - I didn't wake up on Sunday to find the road outside my house closed and trestle tables set up, anyway), no bunting and only a few houses with flags or balloons outside.  The plus side of it all was that the roads were pretty much empty, so, on Friday, I was able to drive out to the country for a pleasant walk.  I also took the opportunity to watch an eclectic mix of films with no Jubilee connection whatsoever.  So, you might say that I successfully returned the favour to Her Majesty by completely ignoring her big event the same way that she once ignored me.  Now, I know that I've told the story before but, as we've just had a weekend full of people telling their stories about how they met the Queen, I'm going to retell my story about how I didn't meet her.  We're going back more years than I care to remember, when I was working in London, it was during President Mandela's state visit and I was walking down Whitehall one lunchtime when the Queen's limo, complete with police escort, drove past.  Now, I was the only person on that side of the street as they came past - I could clearly see Her Maj and Nelson Mandela on the back seat and they saw me.  Indeed, Nelson Mandela waved at and I waved back.  But do you know what?  Not only did the Queen not acknowledge me - at the time one of her civil servants - but she actually turned and looked the other way.  I've never forgotten that slight.  Fucking outrageous.

So, instead of getting involved in protests or attempting to disrupt protests, I decided simply to ignore the Platinum Jubilee as retaliation.  Just as I did the Golden and Diamond Jubilees.  Which brings me to a more serious point: how many of these bloody events are we, the public, expected to finance.  Because, make no mistake about it, it's the taxpayer who has footed the bill for four of these Jubilees in the past forty five years.  I'm not going to say that it is 'obscene' that public money is being spent on celebrating an over privileged hereditary elite - 'obscene' is a word both over used and misused these days - but it is perplexing that our governments are willing to sanction such expenditures while we have increasing levels of poverty in this country.  Especially right now, when we are in a cost of living crisis with increasing prices making it increasingly difficult for even those employed in relatively well paid jobs to afford basics like food and fuel.  But, of course, the spectacle of the last four days, (the press tell me it was a spectacle - I didn't see it so I'll have to take their word for it), was undoubtedly meant to divert our attention from the various crises engulfing the country.  In particular, the crises engulfing Boris Johnson.  Sadly, with the vote of no confidence against him having failed this evening, I'll just have to sustain myself with my fantasies of seeing him bludgeoned to death by a mob on the steps of Parliament.  Until his inevitable fall in reality.  The silver lining of him surviving this vote is that he stays in charge and drags the Tories further into the mire, effectively destroying their chances at the next election.  Sadly, a lot of people will have to suffer in the meantime. Getting back to the Platinum Jubilee, if anybody asks me, I can honestly say that I enjoyed the Jubilee weekend.  I didn't see any of the event itself, but I enjoyed not seeing it and doing other stuff instead.