Like millions of others, we ended up tuning in to the coronation last night and, like millions of others, we experienced that feeling of disquiet that there was essentially something wrong with putting on such an over-the-top, ludicrous spectacular when there is so much wrong with the world today. The commentators kept saying that the benefits of the event far-outweighed the costs but never explained just how that worked. I couldn't help thinking of an anecdote that someone shared before the start of the procession.
She mentioned there was a bloke from somewhere like Huddersfield, ex-serviceman, pensioner, living alone in a small flat. His pension barely covers his rent and food and only stretches to providing heating for four hours a week. Four hours in one hundred and sixty-eight! I hope seeing the good and the great lining up for the exclusive seats in Westminster Abbey gave him a nice warm glow inside.
Still, the poms excelled themselves as usual. The marching was superb, the horses magnificent and the crowd were suitably happy. Charles, though, looked like a sad, old man and it appeared he couldn't wait until it was over. He's been waiting a long time and I hope he feels it was worth it.
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