My son and I are hooked on watching “Monarchy: The Royal Family at Work,” the PBS series about the modern British monarchy. We’re oddly drawn to the global fascination of the queen, a woman who reigns over, but does not govern, her country. After all this time, you’d think the world would have tired of the rather outdated concept of a royal family. Yet the PBS show boasts strong ratings.
My Anglican obsession comes naturally; my father was a bit of a royal fan, too.
Dad was stationed with the Navy Air Corps in England during World War II. As a young man who seldom ventured beyond the Marion County line, living in another country introduced new experiences. The war shaped dad for the rest of his life. So he spent the rest of his life preserving the indelible lessons of fighting for just causes, losing buddies too soon and living as if each day could be his last.
Something else stuck with dad — a culture he could not forget. A tradition he warmly embraced. History he vowed to remember. And food he would always crave. Dad should have bought stock in British shortbread cookies for all he purchased on return trips to England. He was a purist, too, as he swore the British shortbread sold in America wasn’t authentic (this coming from the boy who grew up on Southern biscuits). But, he was a man who knew his flour.
Which is why I love telling the story of when dad met the queen.
My parents and I were visiting York, England with a friend of mine from college. Dad couldn’t believe his luck when he read the newspaper that morning. The queen was to do a “walk about” in town — a fancy phrase for stating she would walk among the crowds to chat and collect flowers and act all royal. Dad checked his watch. If we hurried, we could find a primo spot to wait for, oh, another four hours until she arrived.
Grrrrreat.
So we waited. And waited.
I held a large sign dad made that read, “Your Florida Friends Say ‘Hello!’ “ The royal couple arrived. Prince Phillip commented on dad’s sign asking what part of Florida he was from. When dad said, “Ocala,” the prince smiled.
“I’ve ridden horses from Ocala!” said Prince Philip, who motioned to the queen as she walked toward dad.
“Ah, yes, lovely horses there,” she said.
It was almost too much. Dad maintained composure although he forgot to introduce the rest of us to the royal couple. You couldn’t see us behind our sign anyway. Dad was busy chatting with his new friends about the Florida equine industry he suddenly seemed to know a lot about.
Soon enough, the queen had to move on. She thanked dad for visiting. He thanked her for thanking him. Dad smiled for days after. Years, really.
Not bad for an American cousin with a penchant for shortbread.
