ancient history

Over 20 years ago I was the proud wearer of a woolly suit and big hat. I patrolled a beat that included Buckingham Palace. It was a great time in my life, and one that certainly made me grow up quickly. Amongst the incidents that I attended were the Poll Tax riot in Trafalgar Square, and the IRA bombing of the St James' Carlton Club.

One foggy night there was an alert to the effect that someone had broken into the Palace and made their getaway over the wall using a ladder (Hi-tech, eh!)
By a great coincidence piece of Police work I apprehended the wanted man. He was clearly a mental health act risk, and was convinced that he was HRH Prince Andrew. I also spent a memorable afternoon walking behind the Queen Mother with instructions to rugby tackle this oddbod that had been identified as yet another loon with a fixation for the Royal family. I didn't have the heart to tell the Inspector that I attended a non-rugby playing school.


This brings me to my point: despite being so close to the Royals on so many occasions, I feel absolutely nothing for them. The impending diamond (?) jubilee is of no interest at all to me - apart from the day's holiday the she has so graciously gifted me (pass the sick bucket, mother).

I bear no ill will towards the Queen, (although I wish she would smile a bit more often) but the thought of her idiot son taking over as Head of State gives me the shivers.

The overseas' media always refer to her as the 'Queen of England' and several media sources in the UK, who should know better, are also guilty of this insulting innaccuracy. There seems to be very little appetite in Scotland for the triumphal waving of the Union Jack Flag, so maybe we should just let her wander off and become the 'Queen of England...

Don't forget to tune into Cameron's Lunchbox tomorrow at 12 for the big interview with Blip supremo, Joe Tree.
EastCoast FM