284: CROWN HIM ONE
(Written before the royal ‘do’. Won’t be watching on telly. Clashes with my weekly Australian football match.)
Back in 1953, a group of us would-be Republicans opted out of the School’s visit to a Lincoln cinema to watch the Coronation of QEII. Our punishment, inflicted by super-patriotic ex-commando Gym Master ‘Sarge Perry’, was to trim the cricket pitch with scissors.
From what I’ve gathered, the Coronation of Charlie Boy III is going to be a stripped-down affair, albeit his chosen ceremonial dish of quiche (I’d prefer his mam’s
