Sunday, March 7, 2021
No biking today. Too cold. Instead, we hung out at home. I read, wrote, hung out in the back yard, which wasn't so cold. We both stretched on our grass, which absorbs the rays of the sun and acts like a heating pad when it's cold.
Ramon for lunch with the rest of the duck we cooked last night. So good!
Of course, we watched Oprah's epic interview tonight with Prince Harry and Meghan. I really didn't know much of the story of these two beyond the fairytale wedding and subsequent falling out, all in only a couple years. I didn't know any of the particulars and less of the personalities. So we watched. Oh, lots of moments came up. I don't know these two at all, and only wish the best for them; however, patterns emerged. Old stories reappeared with a new twist. Diana seemed front and center at the heart of where was (and perhaps still is), the outsider who did not get the support she needed, only this time the husband is fully present, fully devoted, fully beside his bride, unlike Diana's spouse, his father, who was always part of the problem. Family dynamics never disappoint. Meghan reminds me of Gwen when Gwen was in her 30s, and both of them together remind me a little bit of the early years of the Gwen and Greg Show. Reactionary, strong, calm when surrounded by drama and conflict ready to shoot shots across the bow when warranted, Meghan seemed a natural at all of that with Oprah. A natural. I found her story compelling, believable, sad, authentic. But I was struck by her admission that she did zero homework whatsoever in what she was getting herself into when becoming part of this most creepy, iconic, institutionalized representation of white supremacy and unlimited entitlement. No prep whatsoever, and in fact even stated her no-prep strategy saved her. Interesting. Institutions have rules, and the older the institution, the less flexible those rules are going to be. Things have changed since the time of Wallace Simpson, but not by much. I'm sure Meghan's time as a royal, and all that went with it, was something of a living hell that countered against the Kodak moments and perceived martial bliss as she and Harry toured the world as the most hip, contemporary representations of England's century's old royal family. Alas, all an illusion, apparently. How sad. How unfortunate that it has turned this way, and yet, perhaps because this is how fate and destiny work, it is all playing out the way it's supposed to play out, with the actress Meghan playing her part, and the son who chose her, replaying the unresolved storyline of his mother, much to the bewilderment of the father who is no longer taking his son's calls. Shakespeare through and through, and feeling much more like a tragedy than a comedy or romance. I would love to see these two live out their lives in quiet anonimity. Something tells me that's so not happening.
