Monkey's Blog - with a little help from Alice

At last! Jubilations part two

Still in press: Poetry group, Prometheus, Shakespeare group, (more?)

We've just been so busy lately, I haven't been able to keep pace with life at all. In fact, I'm quite worried about Alice [So you should be too - Alice]  who is showing signs of stress and getting even more stroppy about having her own independent post. (See her most recent Comment on here.) Am I at all anxious about what she's going to say? Of course not.  
["The monkey doth protest too much, methinks." Hamlet, III, ii. - Vera]

Shut up, you two! Let's just get on with it, shall we? I know the Jubilee might be considered old hat by now (why "hat", by the way?) but Alice has taken the trouble to edit the photos, and I do have some comments to make on the whole shebang. (Apparently that word may come from an Irish name for a speakeasy - "shebeen". See the Free Dictionary.)
Jubilation preambles
There were an awful lot of programs on TV about the Queen, even before the actual celebrations. We've got one of those magic set-top boxes which records things, so you can watch whenever you like and fast-forward if it's boring. (Alice points out it's under the TV and incidentally, she'd highly recommend Humax, if you're thinking of getting one.)

We watched the BBC one where Prince Charles presented family photos and cine film never before released to the public. It showed that despite their vast wealth and highbrow accents, underneath it all they're just folk like the rest of us. It was a bit sad, though, that he kept referring to his mother as "Mama", don't you think? Where on earth does the word highbrow come from I wonder? [Diversion here while we Google... That's why it takes us so long! - Alice]  Apparently it's a purely descriptive term from the pseudoscience of Phrenology. That's why people find this blog is so interesting, Alice. Stop complaining.

We still haven't got round to watching ITV's Elizabeth: Queen, Wife, Mother or their William at 30.

It's time we took a break, so perhaps we'll whizz through them over a late brunch and report back. Right now (it's the Queen's "Official Birthday" - she gets two birthdays, so twice as many presents) they're Trooping the Colour and the Red Arrows are flying over the Palace. Here they are after the service at St Paul’s, as published in the Mail Online. So the Jubilations aren't quite all over yet.

Alice says she can't let us break until she's included the conversation she had with Humpty Dumpty about birthdays. His beautiful cravat was a present from the White King and Queen: "They gave it me for an un-birthday present." Here Alice considered a little. "I like birthday presents best, " she said at last. "You don't know what you're talking about! " cried Humpty Dumpty. And he proved it with Mathematics. "There are three hundred and sixty-four days when you might get un-birthday presents ... And only one for birthday presents, you know. There's glory for you!"  [Alice Through the Looking Glass, Chapter VI]

Jubilation preambles (continued)
Back from brunch. Called up an old friend, who's apparently had a Jubilee poem, entitled Majesty, published in the Gairloch & District Times, no less. She's going to send a copy by smail. So watch this space. (Another of those illogical human sayings. Not to be taken literally, in case you're wondering. I mean I'll quote some for you later on. Whenever.)

Then we watched ITV's Elizabeth: Queen, Wife, Mother, presented by Alan Titchmarsh. Oh dear. He came out with questions such as, "So what's it like to grow up 'above the shop'?"  Even though he himself told us Buck Palace has 775 rooms and 800 staff. The Guardian was scathing. 

 My favourite interviewee was Lady Mountbatten of Burma, filmed next to what looked like a knitted dolls-house. (Or subsiding cake? Click the photo.) On Princess Di's death she tells us, "The British public, which are..." [IS, that should be 'is'! It's a collective noun, grammatically singular - Vera] "...usually completely phlegmatic and not particularly worried by things, became quite hysterical."

Queen Elizabeth herself actually called it an "extraordinary and moving reaction." If you saw The Queen with that wonderful Helen Mirren and the versatile Michael Sheen, you'll know the movie suggests a lot of behind-the-scenes negotiating with PM Blair before she came out in public with an appreciation of the "People's Princess." Who knows?

Boats and Music

We deliberately didn't watch the Thames Pageant in real time, wanting to avoid the  usual, tedious filling-in-time kind of blether, opting instead for the Highlights in the evening. So we missed altogether the apparently horrendous commentaries which drew 4,487 complaints about the BBC coverage! Viewers were said to have complained of a frothy approach with insufficient background and information given by the presenting team. Meaning, for example, they actually didn't have a clue about the history of the boats, or what happened at Dunkirk. Stephen Fry [Jolly good bloke - Vera]  said on Twitter that the BBC's Jubilee coverage was "mind-numbingly tedious" and that he "expected better of the Beeb." The BBC later admitted it didn't "own the tone" of the one-thousand strong flotilla... That's an ingeniously polite euphemism for "****ed it up"!

We had already booked tickets for a concert the next day of Handel's Royal Music by the Academy of Ancient Music. (They had been on the second of the musical barges in the Pageant, performing Handel's Water Music and Music for the Royal Fireworks, putting it "back at the heart of public celebration - for which it was originally written.") There's a video of them there as well. Alice had dressed up especially for the occasion in her best waistcoat. I couldn't see much of the musicians, as she refused to put me on the ledge in case I fell off into the stalls and gave an old lady a heart attack. But I could hear, and the music was simply wonderful. Uplifting. [Long contented sigh from Monkey here - typist]

As we came out, we saw some people watching the Jubilee Concert on a giant outdoor screen, a few waving little plastic Union Jacks. A brave pair were jiving to Elton John. He sounded so absolutely terrible to us, we went home to bed.

The later Highlights of the concert weren't much better, either.  I really like Annie Lennox, but even she sounded as though she was forcing herself. Pehaps they were all cold? Stevie Wonder was OK, though.

It was touching, however, when at the end Prince Charles thanked the Queen, and (very deliberately?) called her "Mummy" at last. Even Alice was a bit teary at that.

What I enjoyed the most was the fireworks finale. Whooshing and banging and lighting up the sky with all sorts of brilliant colours. Thrilled me right to the tip of my tail. Ooooooh! Quite an art-form of its own.