It’s time for them to go

Every November for many years I went to the Remembrance Day ceremony at the island cenotaph with my world war two veteran neighbour Pat. 

I could not go with him last year because, sadly, he died the previous December, three days after his 100^th birthday. (He used to joke that he was going to live to be 112 and be killed by a jealous husband. I wish he was still working on that.)

I did go to the service on my own and when, after all the official wreaths had been laid, they invited people who wished to do so to come up and place their poppy on the cenotaph in memory of someone, I placed mine there with a quiet “love you” to Pat, in the hope that perhaps he is still making mischief somewhere.

Then came an awkward moment. O Canada is always played near the beginning of the service, then at the end it is time for God Save the Queen. Except, of course, last year it wasn’t, because the Queen had died shortly after the shock of meeting the terrible woman who was to replace BoJo the Clown. (Perhaps, if Her Maj had known Truss would only last 42 days, she might have hung on a while longer.)

I couldn’t do it. I could not sing God Save the King. Just stood there silently. Not sure how anyone else felt as they were singing this for the first time.

There are a lot of things I am not going to care about tomorrow. Like the Stanley Cup playoffs or what’s trending on Twitter. Of all the things about which I will not care, top of the list is the ceremony in Westminster Abbey tomorrow that will crown Charles Winsor as the king of Great Britain and Northern Ireland and as the official head of state of Canada and Australia and other former colonies. 

Oh, for fuck’s sake, it’s even popped up unbidden just now on my computer.

Well, easy to know what to do with this: Close.

I also have no interest whatsoever in seeing That Woman crowned as our “queen”. There was supposed to be a deal, made when the Queen granted permission for Charles to remarry, that Camilla would never be queen, that her official title would be queen consort. That seemed appropriate, given that it was their consorting which ensured that poor kid Diana never had a chance.

At least when it’s over the CBC might go back to reporting some actual news, instead of slavishly devoting most of its coverage to the impending ceremony in London. I swear they may be worse than the Beeb. It took Gordon Lightfoot’s death to knock the coronation out of top of the news this week. Honestly.

It would be easy to just say (without meaning it) good luck to them, but I can’t even do that. 

It’s time for them to go.