Still hoping for a royal wedding invitation

With the British royal wedding between Prince William and fiancée Kate Middleton only two weeks away, I have somehow failed to receive my invitation. I don’t mean to be pushy or presumptuous, yet I think I have every right to expect one.

Just in case it got lost in the mail — considering the English call this “the post,” I’m thinking it ended up on a telephone poll somewhere — I sent the following reminder to Buckingham Palace earlier today. (I used snail mail in deference to royal protocols against e-mail, which also allowed me to slip a twenty into the envelope in case that can grease the wheels). With this bit of pluck and a bit of luck, I hope to hear back from the Windsors by the weekend, then I’m off to Britain for the social event of 2011!

Dear Queen,

(I know this is probably not the proper way to address you but hope that, rather than being offended that I’m not calling you a “majesty” or a “highness,” you’ll instead be charmed by my bumpkin ways).

I would like to be invited to the upcoming Royal Wedding. I’m not sure who exactly is handling these arrangements so I thought I’d go straight to the top with my request. Feel free to delegate this task to your vice-queen if you’re too busy to see to it personally. I trust Elton John to handle my plea fairly.

I read that the official guest list has come out and I didn’t see my name among the invitees. I hope that this was merely an oversight. If it’s not, let me say right now that being excluded from a group that includes actor Rowan Atkinson (aka, “Mr. Bean” from the horrible movies of the same name), as well as Prince William’s ex-flame and world champion hyphenate Isabella Anstruther-Gough-Calthorpe, and a former Spice Girl, and Kate’s “yoga instructor” (advice to William: wake up and smell the coffee!) is okay by me.

Truthfully, though, I really really really would like to come. I have a number of fine traits that would make me an excellent guest. I am a proficient speaker of the language of your homeland. I spent a week in London in 2006 on business, and found it to be nowhere near as awful as everyone says it is. I was and continue to be a huge Beatles fan. Plus, I’m trying to get into that new “Upstairs Downstairs” series being shown on BBC America; if nothing else, I’ll have it on my TiVo for that day in the not-too-distant future when “American Idol” and “Dancing With the Stars” are finished for the season.

In addition to being probably the biggest Anglophile in my small South Carolina hometown, I am a diligent student of your long and historic history. I am intrigued by a royal family whose lineage extends back into the mists of time, especially considering I can’t even name my own grandfather. I am impressed by the ancient kings known as Ethelred, Athelstan and Egbert, and how they could rule an expansive kingdom while being mercilessly teased about their names. I admire Henry VIII, even in this day when it’s not considered politically correct to chop off your wife’s head. I even like the stuttering king, at least when I could understand what he was saying.

Now I know you modern royals have had your issues, including divorce, infidelity, more divorce, and difficulties in choosing limo drivers who won’t crash into road abutments. But it’s those all-too-human weaknesses that I think have made your family more interesting than most. And I must say that your young grandsons, William and Harvey, have already gone a long way toward erasing memories of some of the recent embarrassments. They appear to be fine young men, even though the younger one looks nothing like the older one (I’m not implying anything, I’m just saying).

If you do invite me to the wedding, I will be willing to pay for my own transportation and I will give a very nice gift, if you or Elton can tell me where the happy couple is registered. I will be well-behaved at the Westminster Abbey ceremony. I won’t stand and object when the minister asks if anybody wants to, I won’t bang on the exterior windows yelling “Kate!” like Dustin Hoffman does at the end of “The Graduate,” and if anyone in the wedding party tries to pull one of those juking-and-jiving processionals like you see on YouTube, I will personally extend my foot into the aisle and trip them.

Please consider my request and get back to me as soon as possible. While I’m sure the pageantry and memories will be priceless, I need to make a reservation with Virgin Atlantic in the next few days if I want to get the best fare. If I miss that window, I can still drive, if I can figure how to negotiate the notorious storms of the North Sea.

Hope to see you on April 29. I know you’ll have your hands full on that busy day — especially considering that two of them will have a death grip on your purse — but if we spy each other across the room, a gracious nod will do.

Sincerely,

Davis Whiteman

P.S. For the rehearsal dinner, if the choice is chicken or fish, put me down for the chicken. If it’s chicken or roasted suckling pig, I’d prefer the pork.

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One Response to “Still hoping for a royal wedding invitation”

  1. LetUsAllUsPlayDominoes Says:

    …~In addition to being probably the biggest Anglophile in my small South Carolina hometown~…

    Have you considered joining the Episcopal Church? You know the Episcopalians-they’re the Catholics who go to hell.

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