Although there continues to be much debate over who said it first, you will probably, at least once in your lifetime, hear the words:
“With great power, comes great responsibility.”
I agree with this statement one hundred percent. I believe those inaugurated to a place of honor and power are not there simply to reap the glory of an elevated status, but have been given the privilege to serve a greater purpose than themselves. And now, if I am being completely honest, I am not so certain I would want to be one of them, or have great power thrust upon me.
In theory it sounds quite nice — I picture fur-lined slippers ready at the door (animal friendly, of course; I’ll eat them, but I don’t wear them); my favorite foods arriving on silver platters; there’s always an extra side of Ranch Dressing, and I never have to ask someone to refill my Cherry-Pepsi. The bath water is salted, hot, the way I like it — but not scalding. My hair, my make-up, my toes and fingernails, always look perfect — not an overgrown cuticle or hangnail to be sighted. But beyond these trifles and the lap of luxury, I imagine there is a good amount of work involved in the position meriting such fussing over: Big decisions to be made. Endless meetings. A constant influx of paper-work to sort though. Yikes!
Just speaking frankly here . . . as much as I love trifles, in this case I really don’t think there is enough of them in the world to soften the lead-footed load of Greater Responsibility. No, Sir, no thank you. I’ll take the dress and the shoes (both purchased at TJMAXX), and pass on the title and the crown; those things look terribly heavy, anyway. What I am saying is that I would not choose to be Royal.
If you live in The United States, you know that a child born of a U.S. president is not bequeathed a title at birth, nor are they expected to carry on their father’s legacy. There are several differences between our country and that of those residing across the oceans, but I won’t pretend to be versed in any of them. My knowledge begins and ends with what my husband imparts on me, and moreover, what actually sticks.
The one difference, however, which stands out to me is the one I mentioned above. In America we “run” for office, and then, upon winning the election, move into that wicked-awesome white house, the, ahem, White House. But in England, you are simply entitled to the trappings of wealth by heritage and birthright. One might assume the former would endow in the person a sense of gratefulness and humility; how wonderful it must feel to know you were picked, chosen among all the rest. Who doesn’t like to be chosen, right? I love being chosen. And above all, it’s an honor you asked for.
But, in the latter, I wonder if there is this feeling of resentment, this air of “Well, I didn’t have any say in the matter, so you can’t expect anything of me.” Doesn’t seem all that un-fair minded; not when you really think about it. If someone were to knock on my door, place in my right hand the keys to my new Rolls and tricked-out Mansion, then place in my other hand a six-inch manual outlining my responsibilities from there on out, well . . . I think I would probably give my patron a toothy smile, shut the door slowly, then turn out all the lights and hide in the shower.
I’ll cream my own bagel, me thanks you kindly.
This morning there appeared in my news-feed a story about the Royal Couple, Prince William, Duke of Cambridge, and the Duchess Catherine. I don’t keep tabs on these two, or any celebrities for that that matter. I don’t know – I’ll admit I glance at the tabloids when I’m checking out at the grocery store, but I never buy them. It doesn’t seem right to spy on their lives when they haven’t the same opportunity. And thank GOD for that, because I’ll tell ya, I’ve committed some doozies. An-nee-way . . . a month ago Kate gave birth to a beautiful boy. It made the headlines, of course, and the couple proudly showed off their progeny, but eschewed all gifts — save for one: A painting from a 43 year-old woman with Down Syndrome. It’s gorgeous, check it out.
The couple’s decision to accept this gift stirred up quite a spectacle. Here’s why:
“In England, there always has been a stigma attached to (Down syndrome), and now that is washed away by the fact that the Duke and Duchess have accepted that painting,’’ Moffat told TODAY. “For this to happen, it’s kind of turned that negativity around.”
Wow . . . now that’s some Royally Radical character. *high-fives the Duke and Duchess*
Will and Kate – Hi, my name is Cara, and I’m available for tea, anytime. Call me, you know, if you want to, but please do, okay bye.
Lighting it up,