The Fredösphere

Right now I'm looking at the cover of this CD, part of the Royal Edition, a series of classical recordings sponsored or blessed or something by HRH Prince Chas.  A painting by the prince graces the cover.  My first instinct was to scrutinize the painting for lapses of technique or taste.  After all, someone in his position must be a dilettante, right?  (This coming from me, a person once described by the New York Times as "the hardest-working dilettante in Rock 'n' Roll.")

Being a royal would simply suck, at the point one wanted to actually do anything.  Has Prince Charles ever wanted to build a tree house?  If he did, he would have to make sure it was one of the finest tree houses ever constructed.  To guarantee that, he'd have to have help.  And then the story would be "he had help."

Back in the old days, there were compensations for this dilemma, mainly that they allowed you to do other cool things like send men to their deaths and stuff.  But now, in the days of figurehead monarchy, you're stuck.  If being the honorary chairman of this 'n' that isn't your thing, you're one little lame prince indeed.