The Queen and I

Ken Carpenter

I am going to come right out of the gate and say………"The Queen and I have nothing in common!" I don't want anyone assuming anything about the title. I have collected enough insulting nicknames through the years without being saddled with Queenie.

For those who live in a cave, there is only one person referred to as The Queen; Elizabeth II, reigning monarch over 16 sovereign states, figurehead of the free world since 1952, Queen of England. How she haunts me.

For the last few months it seems that The Queen has had her mug on TV or in the papers over and over for one little thing or another. That less than adorable mug, however, has been putting in a little overtime in the Carpenter household.

Try this on for size. I recently had a long, drawn out dream where numerous strangers and I were wading around in the ocean in water up to our knees. Slackjawed would be a fitting description of everybody, including, if you can believe it, yours truly. We were all mindlessly splashing our hands in the tepid water, minding our own business, when suddenly all of our heads came up at the same time to stare out to sea.

A large ship was motoring toward us, a tall, odd, swaying shape rising from its prow. As it approached it became clear that the shape was a 50 foot tall Queen Elizabeth II head, and the swaying was her very large hand waving back and forth as if she was riding a float in a Figgy Pudding parade. All of us began to robotically wave back in the same side to side manner, grinning idiotically.

When the ship drew closer it became clear that the giant head, sporting The Queen's ever present cheesy hat, had a see through cranium. Inside it was the real Queen, same hat, same wave, same "Look at all these imbeciles" expression on her face and same forced grin.

At this point I woke up, wide awake, feeling blissfully stupid. That was when I realized that The Queen is dangerous, for her talent as a maker of morons is unmatched.

The next night I went to sleep without giving a thought to The Queen. It did no good though, for she paid me another visit, a more personal one this time.

My wife Joy and I were in a jumbled warehouse, attempting to organize it for unknown reasons. Suddenly, as quite often happens in my dreams, things started to drift into an amorous direction. Before we knew it, we had climbed to the top of a rickety step ladder to take care of our business.

After a couple minutes of fierce groping, we heard a light tapping noise. We both turned our heads at the same time, and there she was; The Queen, arms crossed, a stern and disapproving look on her face, monstrous hat on her head covered with bananas and apples, her foot tapping a tribal beat on the floor.

Needless to say, the mood was crushed. I woke up frustrated and angry at the evil Queen, though she may have saved the dream-me from a bad fall. It did not matter, and though I was powerless to do so, I wanted to declare war on the old bag.

I researched her, discovering that she has worn over 5,000 hats in the last 50 years. When traveling she has a separate train car just for her hats, so that she will be prepared for any occasion.

"How do you fight that?" I thought. You don't.

You just hope that your next dream does not have you getting romantic with The Queen.

Now that would be a nightmare.

Comments?    Contact Ken at moyieboy@yahoo.com