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Call me irreverent, but I’m not comfortable addressing anyone by a title. I’m not into “Sir” or “Your Honour” or any of the royal titles rolling around these days. I never was. I likely never will be. And, if you know me, and one or two of you do, you know I won’t be taking part in any curtsying or bowing or rising from a seat no matter who’s in front of me. Nope. Ain’t gonna happen, unless it’s in the script and someone is paying me for the performance. I, plain and simply, do not believe any one person deserves more respect than another. I don’t stand when LOML enters the room. I don’t curtsy when I pass the salt, and I sure as heck don’t refer to him as Your Royal Highness, no matter what you’ve heard.

So, in view of the fact Harry and Meghan Sussex/Windsor/Markle/Hapsburg/Mountbatten/ Doe are moving to Canada, I’ll be open about how I would behave in their presence. To be clear, I won’t be jumping to my feet for Harry and Meghan (or for Mumsy The Second should she decide to pay a visit to “the kids”). Don’t get me wrong, I have a lot of respect for Harry and Meghan’s choice and for what they propose to do when they move here, I just can’t say I’d follow any of the “rules of royal etiquette”. Of course, the chances of me being in the same room as royalty is slim, to say the least. I’m more likely to be in a room with a judge and jury, and as far as that goes, I’m a bit divided on the demand to stand when “hiz/heronour” enters the courtroom. I see “contempt of court” in my future, more so than a beheading, or worse.

This isn’t about Meghan and Harry, but it is about all of the recent social media posts about how to behave in the presence of royalty. Like I mentioned earlier, I’m not about to curtsy, or bow my head, for anyone. If I sit down to a meal, I’ll stay at the table for as long as it takes for me to decide if I’m finished. I can’t even imagine why the Queen would think it’s okay, in this day and age, to have such a preposterous line-up of rules of etiquette. Wearing hats, no physical contact, no bare legs, no garlic— sheesh!

I know one or two of you will read this and decide I’m a horrible person. I’m not really. I’m just one of those people who is completely baffled by the double standard we continue to live by. Along those lines, I’d like to know why medical doctors think it’s okay to address me by my first name and then rock back on their heels when I respond using their given name. I’d like to know why a woman would expect a man to hold the door for her, yet not do the same for him. If we’re so freaking progressive, why expect a “gentleman” to walk on the street side of a sidewalk? It’s been hundreds of years since anyone dumped their chamber pot out the window and about as many years since a horse and buggy drove by and splashed a lady with mud—or worse. Yeah, yeah, there’s still slush and mud on streets, but why would the guy have to take the hit when most of us are wearing hightech rain-repellent gear during inclement weather? Come on.

So, how would I address the Queen? Well, given the opportunity, I’d simply dish it back the same way I received it. If the Queen curtsies and refers to me as “Your Majestic Majesty”, I’ll nod knowingly look her straight in the eye and say, “Can I call you Liz? You slumming?” Of course I’d have a very tight the grip on my handbag, cuz you never know when royalty wants something from us commoners.

theresa@wellingtontimes.ca