Royal Baby News (FYI, I don’t have more news just because I am British… 😉 )
Well, we know these joyous things:
1. It’s a boy!
2. It has no name!
3. It was quite a hefty little bugger (where did she put him?)
4. Wills can strap in a car seat (he’s been practising, me thinks – although I heard an American radio station saying he had done it all wrong – different child seat rules, perhaps?)
5. Kate had her hairdresser / stylist in after giving birth (excellent choice of dress, although she must have been stuffed full of maternity pads to get away with wearing powder blue – I admire her bravery)
6. Prince Harry must be breathing a sigh of relief that he now goes down a notch in line to the throne
7. Brits love an excuse for a good old knees up, except for the British pub in Columbia, which still ran its regular quiz night and turned over the news of the birth on the big screen to put the baseball on instead – outrageous!
8. American media coverage about it was nuts
9. Lovely royal-loving nutters in the UK waited for yonks for the announcement
10. The town crier announcement is still a top theatrical bit of British tradition for the baby’s birth (listen to the American presenter’s question on this – ‘do you have any idea what we are looking at here?’ 😉 )
I love this write up in the US Daily Mail: ‘Despite declaring independence from Britain 200 years ago, America celebrated the birth of a future king today, with stores and pubs around the country adorning their walls with Union Jack bunting, ‘It’s a Boy’ banners and preparing British-themed parties and cakes in the likeness of the new mother.
After Kate Middleton was admitted to St. Mary’s hospital early this morning, baby fever hit London and the rest of the United Kingdom. But it didn’t take long for the excitement to travel across the Atlantic – and once it was revealed the royal baby was a boy, it only escalated.
Meanwhile, U.S. broadcasters were representing the country in force outside the hospital in London as royal baby hysteria gripped the television networks. America’s top broadcasters were sent to the U.K. to report live from Paddington on the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge’s new baby boy.
In New York, the block of Manhattan’s Greenwich Village know as ‘Little Britain’ joined in on the fun with British flags, cupcakes, special menus and other celebrations for customers to partake in.’
Now, just to be clear: we Brits don’t know any more about the Royal King to Be than our American cousins. My friend’s Facebook update amused me today:
‘Day 2 of going into an office of 13 American ladies, during a royal birth, and having to politely explain that I don’t have any additional news or insights (presumably via a mystery hotline from London?) about the baby’s name, weight, eye colour etc.’
Only yesterday I was asked by an American friend if the Queen will now abdicate the throne – ‘you’ll know better than me’, he said with unerring trust in his voice. I had to choose between pretending to be omniscient of all things royal and basically bullshitting my way through, or saying ‘no, not really’. Interestingly, I chose the former option and I sounded like a rather well-informed authority on all things royal, if I say so myself!
The Luck of the Irish
Let me tell you about Will. He can charm the pants off anyone; and it’s not just because he is Irish. And he has a lot of shoes – possibly more than me, which is a LOT. I met Will when I was in DC as part of the Mix1073 podcasts with his BFF Brooke Ryan. And how we bonded!
So he is Irish and dapper and living in America…and what’s it like, therefore, to be running around DC charming the pants/trousers of all and sundry….?
This is The Tale of Will…
[Will’s words follow…!]
The dashingly handsome, uber stylish man of mystery, Will Lambert, lives in Aldie, VA (the bit of northern Virginia that has wineries and horses – he thinks he’s a bit more posh than any self-respecting Irishman should). Landing in Honolulu in 1998, Will has graced the states with his presence for the better part of the past fifteen years, i.e., drinking, carousing, and generally being a cad. A world traveler and former US Army soldier, he has many entertaining tales and never tires of hearing himself talk. An honoree of the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation’s D.C.’s Finest Young Professional Campaign in 2012, he swears that he has some redeeming qualities and has apparently convinced others of this nonsense as well.
What do you enjoy most about living in the USA?
I quite enjoy the people and for all its faults, the economy here is better than back home.
What do you miss about Ireland?
Proper lemonade. How hard is it to understand that lemonade is meant to be carbonated? Red lemonade as well. That, I have no explanation for; it just is what it is.
What differences do you still encounter?
I’ve been here for a long time, so it doesn’t happen often, but every once in a while I’ll say something and people will look at me sideways. Yes, when I said “jumper” I was referring to my sweater. Also, “What’s the craic?” gets me a weird look sometimes.
I’ve a shirt that reads “Feck it, sure, it’s grand.” Feck is a grand word and Americans should adopt it… and stop giving me those looks when I wear it on the Metro. I’m sure your 8-year-old is probably thinking “What the f*ck does feck mean?” anyway.
The best thing about being an Irishman in the USA?
I could go on all day about things that I couldn’t care less about, but let’s be honest, the best bit about being an Irishman in the States is being able to pull birds that a guy that looks like me has no right pulling. Sure, I’m charismatic and I dress well, but the reason that I pick up women like I do is because they like my accent.
What myths, stereotypes and preconceptions about the USA do you think do exist or are just a load of nonsense?!
Not everyone is armed, though I have been hunting with mates here whilst drinking bourbon for breakfast. – I’ll give that a 50/50 for accuracy.
There are loads of overweight people here, but I’m no skinny Minnie, so it works well for me.
I generally thought the south would be nothing but boggers, but some of the most intelligent, genteel, wonderful people I’ve met are southern.
Everyone here thinks that they’re Irish. Everyone. I have no issue with that, but don’t come up to me at the bar on St. Paddy’s and expect me to buy you a drink because your grandma was from Limerick. If she digs herself up and comes to the bar, I’ll buy her a pint.
While we’re at it, learn how to spell Paddy. Patty is a girl’s name.
I do have to add my pet peeve about Americans. This common exchange sums it up nicely:
American: Where are you from?
Me: I grew up in Ireland.
A: What part?
A: Where’s that?
M: Do you know where Shannon Airport is? 15 – 20 miles north of that.
M: Co. Clare?
M: Alright, about 2 1/2 hours west of Dublin.
A: I don’t really know where Dublin is.
M: If you’ve no concept of the layout of the country, then why did you ask me the f*cking question?!?