diamond geezer

 Friday, April 21, 2006

Happy Birthday Ma'am
(a live KNBC simulcast)

Brad: Hi Meryl.
Meryl: And a very good morning to you Brad. I'm broadcasting live from London's Mayfair in little old England to celebrate the 80th birthday of Lizzie Queen, Her Most Royal British Majestyness.
Brad: Fantastic Meryl. We love quaint Brit stuff, and Big Liz is the toppermost. Although her taste in fashion is a bit turquoise, and all her teeth are really Brit-wonky. I can't understand why she hasn't splashed out her famous Windsor fortune on a series of facelifts and dental makeovers. There's no excuse for rich women in the media spotlight to look old, brown and wrinkly these days.
Meryl: Too right Brad. I would smile wider but my lips might snap. Anyway, I'm here in Bruton Street just off Bark-er-lee Square because it was here at number 17 that Princess Lizzie was born, 80 years ago today.
Brad: Doesn't look much like an interstate, Meryl.
Meryl: No Brad, it's just a quaint old backroad barely wide enough to drive four trucks down. And get this, it has public transport and sidewalks too. But there is an exclusive automobile showroom on the corner selling humungous big gas guzzlers, so it's not all Freaksville.
Brad: That's cool, Meryl. I guess Her Maj must have been born inside one of those glam and glitzy Royal palaces, the ones that sell teatowels and jam?
Meryl: Not at all, Brad. This was just an ordinary Mayfair townhouse, although far smaller than your average American homestead and without a backyard to play basketball in.
Brad: Poor girl, she must have suffered terribly as a kid. Say Meryl, can we go inside and take a look at the primitive European living conditions into which baby Lizzy was born? I know I'd pay good money to see the room where the Queen Mother grunted and moaned to bring the future Queen of England into the world.
Meryl: Wouldn't we all, Brad. But sorry, those Britsters knocked down the original building several years ago and now there's just a brash block of concrete offices on the site.
Brad: Never mind Meryl, that grubby illegible heritage plaque on the front of the building looks more than adequate.
Meryl: Miserable isn't it, Brad? And I'm not even convinced that these offices have any tenants, because there's a pile of mail lying unopened on the mat inside these revolving doors. To be honest Brad, I'm beginning to wonder why I bothered to turn up here in the first place. I should be somewhere properly royal instead, like the coke-snorting nightclub round the corner.
Brad: Sorry Meryl, but I'd like you to know that we in the KNBC Newsmedia Team really appreciate you braving Third World conditions like this. Maybe there's somewhere else tasteful and homely along that street you could visit instead, say like a Starbucks or a Taco Bell?
Meryl: Most thoughtful, Brad. There's the tiny Coach and Horses bar up the road where local people toasted the health of the new-born princess with lukewarm beer. There's an art shop dressed up as an exclusive gallery for the retail benefit of the culturally bereft. And just across the street there's the main designer outlet of fashion guru Stella McCartney...
Brad: Wow, the Stella McCartney, daughter of Merseybeat megastar Paul? Now there's true British royalty, Meryl. Stuff dowdy old Liz. Get yourself over the road and let's do a 35th birthday tribute to a royal princess who really matters.
Meryl: But first a word from our sponsors.

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