Admit it. I have you guessing about what the heck this post is about, don’t I?

Well, don’t blame me. Blame:

  • abysmally ineffective decongestants and cough suppressants that kept me awake last night
  • the person or persons who generously shared their $#@%!~ upper respiratory virus with me–the one my doctor quaintly calls the “100-day cough”
  • the easily distracted network news producers or whoever decides which stories are important enough for us to know half-truths about

I try not to watch the news, but sometimes I get stuck, like when it’s on and I can’t find the remote. That has happened a lot lately. I’m tempted to get one of those big-enough-to-trip-over remotes. But if they require “D” batteries, there might be days when I won’t have the energy to pick it up.

As a result, I’ve noticed something. Well, it was kind of inevitable that I would notice something, wasn’t it?

Brian Williams’s face seems kind of smooshed to one side and NBC news shows seem to have a thing for brunettes. I bet a female with a smooshed-in face would never get camera time at NBC. But that’s not what I noticed, although both are kind of curious.

They, and by “they” I mean “not me,” are obsessed with Britain’s Royal Family. I kind of thought the whole point of starting a new country way back when was to get away from British rule. But History was never my favorite subject, so I could be wrong.

Am I the only one who has noticed that Americans seem to be missing that glammy thing only Royals bring to a monarchy that presidents and congresspeople in our plain old democracy just can’t pull off even on their best days? Why else would we preëmpt regularly scheduled programs (that shut-ins like me depend on for our daily stimulation and reality checks) to broadcast Royal weddings, Jubilees, the shenanigans of a couple of princes, royal “pregers” (that’s “pregnancy” for those of us who don’t speak the Queen’s English), and funerals of very old royal people.

I understand all the fuss about Diana. I mean she was Diana and got married to that horsey-faced Charles, who never really loved her. Plus, lots of people said I resembled Diana, so the hullabaloo around Diana is totally warranted.

But, the Queen? Come on. She’s geriatric. Okay, she wears snappy hats that go with her old-fashioned purses, but she moves as slowly as any 86-year-old rich woman in America. Why is the American press speculating about Charles wanting his “mum” (that’s “mom”) to give up the throne? Is this a matter of foreign policy or gossip? The same with Harry’s partying proclivities. He’s not even in line for the throne … well, maybe the throne, but not THE throne.

And then there’s Wills and Kate and the Princess and their unborn baby (not twins, I hear). Kate may officially be a Duchess, but in America’s eyes, she’s a Princess. And the poor girl had morning sickness. So she was hospitalized. Do you know what happened when I had puke-my-spleen-out morning sickness? Saltine crackers and ginger ale. And I still had to make it to work on time. What the heck is she going to do with the hemorrhoids? Call in MI5 to flush those insidious terrorists out?

Oh, how could I forget the latest hoopla about Kate’s official portrait “scandal.” Does she look “mature,” “mean,” “or “marvelous?” Forget the assault weapons ban. We need to get this foreign wife of grandson of British Queen portrait matter resolved. And fast!

Why do I even know about this stuff? I’m better informed about the Royal Family than the U.S. Supreme Court. Facts about the Supreme Court. What do you know about these people? I know Judge Thomas (the one seated on the far right) just broke seven years of silence with three words, which didn’t even form a complete sentence in response to another judge and has never once asked a lawyer a question.