The Royal Ass

- A Prince's Tail


Best read with a snobby, "proper" British accent. 

I grew up as an American looking over the pond at England’s royalty pretty much the way most American’s do; with levity. If my father was writing this, I’m convinced that most of you who knew him would simply agree that his version of my opening sentence would be, shall we say, less kind. One would think that after an incident with one of the royals in New York City my father would show a little more humility. 

Let me first say, that I really enjoyed the movie, “The King’s Speech”. It was a pleasure seeing Goeffrey Rush, the man that played Captain Barbosa in Disney’s Pirates of the Caribbean play a much different role - the type of which he more commonly plays, actually. Collin Firth is wonderful as the stammering Prince George (affectionately called Bertie by those closest to him). And what can I say about Helena Bonham Carter except for the fact that I half expected her to enter the scene screaming profanity in her most wicked gutter-snipe tongue. Guy Pearce eloquently plays George’s older brother David AKA Duke of Windsor, who would later on become, briefly, King Edward VIII. Of course, he would hand the crown over to is younger brother, Bertie whom would become King George VI. 

It should be noted how this movie shows that the image of snobby royalty that the world is shown is not actually the way life is for the royal family, and that they are after all just people just like you and I with their own loves, fears and ambitions. In fact, it shows how many of them neither enjoyed or desired the constant attention and ever-present eye fated to follow them all of their lives. But that’s not what this blog is about.

As I’m watching this Oscar winning movie, realizing Guy Pearce’s character, it dawned on me just who the character was. 

“Oh my God. That’s the guy my father…”

Ok, my father served in the Army during WWII as an enlisted man, and had many stations and duties over the course of his service, one of which was to escort and drive one of the Generals about to formal and some not-so-formal events and gatherings. One of the more formal of these occasions found my father driving his General to a diplomatic ceremony in New York City. As for the date, I can only say for certain that it was after 1936. As to the place? I can only guess it was a hotel of some prominence due to the fact that royalty was in attendance. 

With his high-ranking passenger in the back seat, my father pulled up to the canopy that stretched from hotel’s front door to the street. The footman on the sidewalk promptly opened the door, received the General, and escorted him inside as per his duty. My father, relieved of his delegate continued on his way in order to procure a parking space for his vehicle so he could then find some comforts to occupy his time until his services were recalled. Ok, ok, he parked the jeep and went for a beer. Gees!

At the appointed time, and after some minor consummation of a refreshing malt beverage, my father exited his newly discovered pub and started walking back toward the hotel and his vehicle to receive his General. He was walking along the side of the hotel, and upon rounding the corner, slammed directly into a gentleman who was highly decorated - knocking them both on their… uh, posteriors. Immediately, a rush of people went to the assistance of the decorated man while my father, seeing that this man was obviously someone of importance, ducked quietly away without notice. Trying to look casual, he simply left the bustling scene, collected his jeep and got in line with the rest of the vehicles in front of the door to receive his General. 

Seeing that he still had a bit of a wait, he decided to get out of the jeep and return to the scene of the crime. As he approached, a gentleman finely dressed stopped him before he got too close, held his arms out in a halting manner and said, “Pardon me sir, if you don’t mind,” wishing my father to stand clear until the decorated man was escorted back inside the building.

“What was that all about?” my father asked the man after a moment. 

The man, looking over his shoulder, saw that it was all clear, dropped his arms and turned back to look at my father and said, “Someone’s just accosted The Duke of Windsor, sir.” in a horrified voice. 

That’s right, folks. My dad knocked the Duke of Windsor, Edward VIII,  deposed King Of England - on his royal fanny.  

According to my father, he simply collected his General and drove away none-the-wiser. 

Well, that’s the story as my father told it to me. I’ll let you all decide for yourselves as to whom the title of this blog refers to. 

Wink wink, nudge nudge, say no more, say no more.