It was some time ago when the 7-year-old hurricane boy was not quite yet six. We were visiting an old friend, both in his age and the years we’d shared together. He was now in his 84th year and his wife of 60 years had passed away a few years prior.
Though married such a long, long time, they had never had children. The hurricane saw a photograph on his coffee table of two children and asked, “Are these your kids?”
The old friend replied, “No, these are just my nieces.”
The hurricane said, “Didn’t you have any kids?”
And the friend answered “no, we never did.”
Astonished, probably thinking how could anyone miss the pleasure of raising a hurricane, he blurted out, “What’s wrong, didn’t you ever kiss her?”
Well, I don’t know if Prince Harry kissed anyone on his recent trip to Las Vegas, but I’m pretty sure no one told him its motto: “What happens here, stays here.”
Harry, unlike Randy Travis, was not driving around naked and drunk, but instead of a mug shot decided a few dozen nudie photographs would probably pep up the next dreary family dinner at Buckingham Palace. You know, the same old dreadful conversations about the ungrateful servants, the arrogant French and Prince Charles’ comb-over.
Harry decided instead of drinking and driving to drink and play pool — billiards, in his vernacular — all the while buck naked with a few women of minimal modesty. I don’t object to the women, but where I come from playing pool naked will get you in a rumble and the balls being broke won’t have anything to do with a pool game.
I do wonder what Daddy — or should I say father — Charles had to say about his youngest heir’s exploits? I can hear him now. “Harry, I do say, ole boy, you fancied quite a good time in Vegas, did you now? Splashed your bum and the family jewels all over everything from the London Daily Sun to People magazine. We tend to keep the family jewels private and you go and pull a full frontal Monty, which, I might add, looked more like a half Monty, which is why we keep all that private to begin with.”
When I was Harry’s age I never pulled such a stunt, although I will say I’m eternally grateful that cell phone cameras did not exist back then. Back then, a few people would tell about whatever happened and in a few more weeks it was all old news. Now, you’re on someone’s Facebook page and pictures have reached the folks’ house before you get home.
I hope Harry doesn’t suffer too much and it is just an isolated lapse in judgment. Then again, his daddy married Camille, so it could be an inherited trait. With all that fun, let’s hold our breath that Harry didn’t kiss her. If he did, he might really be praying that what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.
Contact columnist T. Gamble at firstname.lastname@example.org.