Campbell High Opens Helipad

Being confirmed republicans, with the requisite amount of disdain for things royal, we had no idea of the schedule of HRH Prince Charles on his odd excursion to Australia. The roar of helicopters coming from up the road caught us, therefore, by surprise.

We’ve read a bit of the commentary about his travels (and his travails) however, and get the idea that Charles has lost the faith of all but die-hard fans. While this is a welcome development, in a strange twist it seems an Australian girl has married a prince of Denmark (how romantic… how Shakespearean) and, in an extraordinary case of emotional transference, the whole country has fallen in love with her (gag) at the expense of our own ridiculous royals.

Charles, of course, is seen as shouldering most of the blame for the dwindling stocks of the British royals.

You could imagine his resentment at being caught in an unprecedented media glare, doing exactly what his forebears had done all along (marry for expediency’s sake and carry on with a lover) and getting cast as a cad and a villain.

With his simple and sweet dead wife rapidly assuming iconic saint status, Charles probably realises he’s on a hiding to nothing in the PR stakes. The odds on him renouncing the throne before christmas are currently 5 to 1. It might be a good bet.

We don’t know how many people bothered to go to the War Memorial to see Charles. About 50 people were eventually gathered down at the nearby helipad when Charles drove up, most, like ourselves, drawn by the thunderous idling helicopters. He threw us a little awkward wave as he emerged, which was greeted by a strange silence except for someone behind us who sniggered.

Charles has the cutest little bald spot on the back of his head. It’s not like we have any real sympathy for him. Like all anachronisms, he and his ilk will eventually be erased from all but children’s fairy tales, and hopefully no-one will mourn the loss.

But you can sometimes imagine that deep within the dozens of frozen veneers of codes of behaviour that must make up Charles’ persona there is a vestige of a real human being, with frailties, dreams and fears etc.

Of course it’s one of those things we’ll never really know, like we’ll never really know whether John Howard is secretly doing the devil’s bidding or whether Peter Costello really wants to be prime minister.

Bye Charles.

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