I’m not the King.

I’m the Gloomer and this is my Blog.

A blog dedicated to us:

The ME generation.

We had it made! Then we got old…

Anyway, I gotta stay positive. This post is not about me. It’s about the new king.

There’s a new king on the block. He’s not like the king of Denmark. Or Spain. Or Monacco. (they still got kings in those places?) I don’t know. How am I suppose to keep up with who’s got a king? I’m trying to remember where I left my wine bottle. No. This is no piss pot king. This is the big kahuna.

The King Of England.

There’s no bigger king out there than the King Of England.

You probably think I’m writing about him for that very reason. Because he’s such a big shot King. But you’d be wrong. What do I care about kings? I’m the Gloomy Boomer.

I’m mention this king for one reason and one reason only:

He’s a Baby Boomer!

That’s right. This king was born in 1947. And even though he grew up in a castle and I grew up under the boardwalk we do have one thing in common.

We are members of the Boomer club.

This Royal Dude is 77 years old. He’s up there. He didn’t become king overnight. He had to wait for his mom to die. He waited and waited. She was queen for like seventy years.

she was some impressive old lady.

I liked her. I liked her because she was down to earth. She didn’t put on airs. I mean, other than being queen.

Sometimes she had to wear a crown. That comes with the job. Say you’re the queen. You sit on a hard-as-nails throne and wear a silly ass crown. (Does she look happy in this picture?). I bet she was thinking, I would die for a gin and tonic right now!

But she hung in there. Did her job. Worked six days a week. For seventy years. Kept her opinions to herself, mainly. Worked her behind off for her people. That’s dedication, man! I admired this queen. She stayed home mostly. No slumming with Movie Stars and Fashion Designers like her kid sister. She even dressed like a normal person.

On a normal day she looked like this:

What I like about this queen, she was not TRENDY.

She was a normal down to earth old lady–other than being a queen of course–kind of like my grandmother. During the big war she worked as a truck mechanic.

I gotta tell you, I got nothing but kind thoughts for this queen. She was one of a kind. The Gloomer rates her a solid ten.

Now what exactly is a Baby Boomer King? I imagine he’s a different animal than his mother was. His mother was part of The Greatest Generation. The people who struggled through the Great War. THAT Generation had backbone. They didn’t complain. They worked hard and saved their money. They were made of THE REAL STUFF. They were not whiners…

At least that’s what I’ve been told…by my elders.

My Generation, on the other hand. The ME crowd. We’re made of different stuff. We’re less like Steel and more like Plastic. We bend. Take me, for instance. I’d rather run away than fight. I’ll fight if I’m cornered. That’s why I carry a knife. But I’m not leading the charge. By no means. Baby Boomers were spoiled by their parents. Not just spoiled. Spoiled rotten. That’s what I heard…again from my elders.

Okay, so is this new King gonna be like his Mom or more like a typical BOOMER?

Check him out:

I’m not kidding. The Crown Prince crash landed this jet and lived to tell about it. Or not tell about it. There was an investigation where the cause of the crash was determined to be crew error. Okay, no big deal. The future King stopped flying big ass jets. Instead, he played the field:

I guess he made the grade as a bachelor. I mean, how much more eligible can a guy get? But much as he enjoyed playing the field, there came a time when he had to get married. That’s the rule when you’re a Royal. You need to get married and produce offspring. It’s a high class breeder’s kennel kind of thing. You need to produce suitable heirs. So the future King dutifully complied.

Oh, well. I read up on him a little. He’s basically a good guy, I think. But definitely a dork. I don’t know why, but I kind of feel sorry for the Dude. (I must be losing my mind!) I don’t know if he’ll be a lousy king. I mean, what do you need to do to be a bad king? Imagine his kid brother Andrew as King. That would be interesting. No. I think he’ll be okay. I mean, he’s pushing eighty. How much damage can he do in the few years he has left. Am I rooting for him? I don’t know. I guess so. Actually, I don’t really care.

In fact, I’m done with this subject…