A royal proposal for the Queen
Her Majesty The Queen Buckingham Palace London SW1A 1AA
My Dear Liz,
Blimey! I was gobsmacked to hear Harry and Meghan are stepping back as senior royals. Things have become quite a bit of a dog’s breakfast with this drama plus Prince Andrew, haven’t they? Whilst I suspect you are chockablock with people advising you about what to do, here is a nifty plan to put things tickety-boo. My lovely wife, Grace, and I would be chuffed to step into the void as senior royals. We realize you are not going to buy a pig in a poke here, my lady, so may I present our bona fides?
Grace and I have a warm place in our hearts for the British – James Bond, Arthur Treacher, Earl Gray, Simon Cowell, Posh Spice, and Lord Grantham, to name just a few. Some may say our being American doesn’t align with senior royal duties. That’s a cheeky load of codswallop! We can help promote your brand here in the former colonies. Americans love Betty White, and given your facial similarities, well, trust me on this one, we will be faithful assets of the crown.
Grace is the bee’s knees at garden parties. She splendidly handles all the arrangements of our entertaining and her fetes never become a wonky botch job. She charmingly chinwags with anyone and everyone. I can bring some Carolina cuisine to complement the menu. Ample dashes of Firefly will enliven the afternoon tea, and some brisket barbecue will add taste and colour to the finger sandwiches. I believe I still have a Jarts game in the boot of my car. It is a perfect pastime for a lawn gathering, although we might not want to do it at Holyroodhouse Palace if our guests have overly partaken of Scotch before arriving.
We greatly enjoy sporting events and readily stand to represent the crown at Royal Ascot even though the horses run in the wrong direction. Grace and I are more than eager to do our part, plus cover for any absent family members, in drinking Pimm’s and eating strawberries at Wimbledon. We promise never to call football “soccer” and will stay awake for a full day of cricket at Lord’s. Because of our participation at the duck race here on Daniel Island, we are perfectly suited to assist with the annual Swan Upping on The Thames, aren’t we now?
Grace has a fine eye for fashion. Take the Foot Guards’ uniforms for example. I don’t mean this as a par, but you’ve used those red jackets and Marge Simpson hats for decades. Whilst a makeover is in order, everybody has overdone the gray palette and it’s fast falling out of favour. Grace says think of verdant colours. Take a look at Sherwin Williams 6713. So sorry to comment, but hand bags are out, too. Wristlets are in and you can get them in the pastels you love. The crown jewels are a little last millennium, don’t you think? Grace can flog some at an estate sale on King Street and then help you buy some new bling.
We will need a place to rest our dogs when we are in the United Kingdom. Since I doubt you want us under foot at Buckingham Palace or Windsor Castle, we will be fine with another residence – perhaps a posh flat at any old palace say Clarence House, Hampton Court, St. James, Frogmore, Kensington, Balmoral or Holyroodhouse – of Your Majesty’s choosing.
I trust you will agree that I’m not over-egging the pudding when I say we would be stellar members of the royal fam. Making us senior royals is a doodle. Just give us our titles (I prefer Duke of Earl), arrange an investiture, hand us the keys to the castle, and Bob’s your uncle. To finalize the details, give me a tinkle on the blower.
You most humble chap,