On the Royal Wedding...
I didn't watch it, but I might eventually. There isn't much that can drag me from my bed at four in the morning, except for maybe an impending beach trip or some other cool thing.
I don't follow the newlyweds in any way. I know who they are. I remember well when Charles and Diana married and I think I feel the same way I did then.
Half of my Twitter and Facebook pages hate the coverage. Half of them don't. Some are irate over the amount of money spent on the wedding. Some gave constant updates on dresses and guests and the ceremony.
In a world where there is far more bad news than good, what's wrong with the constant coverage? It's far better than watching police chase down a famous person for suspicion of murder. It's far better than hearing about the martial infidelities of someone considered a hero to many people, or having to constantly hear about the atrocities committed against animals by someone a lot of kids admired. I will admit that those types of coverage bring the same kind of social media comments, but at least the wedding was an upbeat positive event.
It's a real life fairy tale and who doesn't love that? Or maybe that's just my romance writer sensibilities. Weddings are a time of celebration. They're supposed to be mushy and romantic. And this wedding was a royal one, which adds the cultural fascination in addition to the royal fascination. The crowds waiting for a glimpse of their Royal Family were upbeat and positive and happy. That's got to count for something.
With all of the ugly stuff in the world, the break from constant bad news is nice. I'm glad my kids were exposed. They even watched some of it when they got home from school. Maybe they're just chips of the old block and romantics to their core...I can only hope...
That is all.