Until recently, my Anglophilia was mostly limited to The Who, the Sex Pistols and Monty Python. Which is good because my wife is a complete Anglophile.
She would live out every Jane Austen novel if she could just figure out how to force her coworkers (and her husband) to go along and has often lamented not being born in Victorian England.
I, on the other hand, have had most of my life little use for Merry Old England, though I have long been fascinated how such a relatively small nation can produce so many great rock bands and comedians. Still, I’ve been more Anglophobe than Anglophile.
But my indifference to our parent country has been lessening. I’ve found myself in the past year watching British television and listening to BBC News (you truly have not lived until you hear a BBC announcer pronounce “Tunisia”); purchasing British dress shirts straight from Jermyn Street; and drinking tea (alas, Earl Grey is an acquired taste I have not yet acquired).
The biggest change, and I can only credit this to our current politics, is a creeping belief that a constitutional monarchy might not be an inherently bad thing.
Thursday, I found myself watching video of Prince Philip making what was billed as his final solo public appearance. And I’m not sure why.
I guess you could say I’ve gone from “God save the Queen/the fascist regime,” to just God save the Queen.
But I still like the Pistols.
With tea.
— Rick Hoover
