Man Who’d Be King Visited Jersey

Time heals all things. If age and wisdom did not heal and help us forget, our gracious Garden State would not have rolled out its welcome mat so lavishly for a renowned young man last week. A personable chap, according to all reports, and the heart throb of many young (and perhaps some older) ladies, the person of whom I write is no less than Prince Harry.
Lest I be flagged (and flogged) for being an snide Yank, his Christian name is Henry Charles Albert David, born Sept. 15, 1984 to Charles, Prince of Wales, and Diana, Princess of Wales.
Not a strict watcher of Buckingham Palace, I had to seek informational aid from Wikipedia, the Internet’s quick source of everything from soup to nuts.
Being the younger son of the royal couple, Prince Harry has, unless galactic forces intervene, as much chance of becoming king as I do of winning the Pick-6 Lotto. Oh, yes, there’s a slim chance, but not one to bet the palace (or farm) that it will happen.
Casting history books aside, the good prince embarked on an odyssey of goodwill here in the Colonies. He came to New Jersey, the place where the redcoated army of his ancestor, King George, was soundly defeated by Gen. George Washington’s troops in Princeton (clever name for a place, Prince Town, eh?) on Jan. 3, 1777, and 10 days later were again trounced in Morristown. That loss finally dashed all hopes of winning. The army departed southern New Jersey at that point to carry the fray elsewhere. That’s old history, (who cares anyway?) but it’s a fact nevertheless.
I doubt the good prince will visit either battlefield while he and Gov. Chris Christie talk about the real reason Harry’s here, to see the rebuilt beach towns decimated by Hurricane Sandy.
We must laud the young fellow for being mindful a dollar, (a pound, I’m sorry about that gaffe). He flew here aboard a commercial airliner with a pitifully tiny party in his entourage. Imagine that! A young man who could wear the crown –maybe– being thrifty, is a novel idea for peasants and colonists
. If only some Yankee bigwigs would latch upon his lead, perhaps instead of using private jetliners joined by legions of hangers-on, who take trips around the globe on the public ticket, we could see a savings. Maybe Harry’s a breath of fresh air for overtaxed colonists. Maybe that’s why America seems to want to wrap its arms around his royal being.
To be sure, the media will treat good Prince Harry like he’s king. He’s no American Idol, but a prince will do in a pinch.
Hordes of photographers and reporters followed his every move from the moment he landed on ground which would have been his family’s had it not been for some disloyal troublemakers. They didn’t want to pay taxes to George, and only wanted to call their own shots. So, here he comes, probably with a broad grin on his face as he overhears the commoners beefing about high taxes and no representation, especially about new flood insurance rates for those recovering coastal towns. Ha! “Take it to Parliament,” he’ll think.
“Wait until father hears this one,” he might say to himself. “He always told me Yanks didn’t know how to run a country the proper way. Never trust a nation that drives on the wrong side of the road, dad told me.”
To be sure, mention “royal” and “crown” or “tiara,” and the masses here swoon. Ah, we say, why did we ever ditch the monarchy for this mess we have in Washington? While it is well over two centuries ago that we cut our ties with the Mother Country, there is something in us that, I truly believe, never wanted to let go of the King and Queen.
We have beauty pageants that adorn young heads with a regal crown.
When we tire of eating bologna sandwiches and drinking store-brand soda, we think of someday being treated “like royalty.” Where did that notion come from? Certainly it was not our patriot founders.
I wonder what the heavenly legion of patriots was saying last week as they gathered above New Jersey and watched as our chief executive escorted Prince Harry onto the sand. As Press reporter Rich Degener once wisely asked upon another visit to the local sand by a U.S. senator: Why is it every time a senator walks on the beach it’s news?
After Degener posed the question, I’ve often wondered that same thing. We’ll see what happens with the prince.
Too bad Diane Wieland, Cape May County’s tourism director, didn’t have closer ties with the palace, maybe Prince Harry would have wiggled his toes in our local sand. What a coup that would have been for the folks of Sea Isle City, which put up heavy bread to buy a billboard outside the Lincoln Tunnel to tell millions of mobile masses that the resort was open for business.
Prince Harry won’t spend too much time here in the Garden State. He’s officially embarked upon a dizzying tour of the former Colonies.
He arrived May 9 in the city named for the general who trounced his ancestors, Washington.
No stranger to our shores, the lad last made a trip to Las Vegas. While it seemed the chap was having a rousing good time with some young ladies, sad to say for him, what happened in Vegas didn’t really stay in Vegas. You all know the rest of the story, no need to recount nasty tales.
No time to mess, he’s on official business this trip, meaning the trek is likely is on grandma’s tab. That said, he had better fly the straight and narrow. Among agenda items is a visit to wounded veterans as well as some charitable events, and, to end it all, a rousing good polo match up in New England. (Probably makes him laugh “New” England. What was so bad about the “Old” England? Oh, those colonists were so mixed up.
Pity them all, especially at tea time. Finally, when it’s over, Prince Harry will lug home a box of salt water taffy to Buckingham Palace, perhaps tell of eating some strange native delicacy called a “hoagie” (did I pronounce that correctly?), and recount the disgusting habit of the Yanks who actually drink “iced” tea and “cold” beer.
Things never would have wound up like this if only that old war had gone the other way. We’d be singing “God Save the King,” but only in Harry’s dreams.