In Line to the Throne

In view of who is marrying whom today, and what their prospects are, I have been usefully checking Wikipedia to see if I am in line to the throne.

I am not.

It is, as may be imagined, a huge disappointment.

It appears that to be in line to the throne you have to be descended from the Electress Sophia of Hanover which distinction Princess Anne's grand-daughter has just achieved and, as Elizabeth still reigns in her Dominions, we are now just twelve heart-beats away from having a little Canadian as Queen of New Zealand.

This new baby bumps all the other putative Kings and Queens of England down a notch, so Alexandra, Hereditary Countess of Erbach-Erbach now has to settle for number 1074. The eager boys at Wikipedia haven't caught up yet: some homework to do, methinks.

I do like the British constitution. What other country would have the great good sense to command a family of foreigners to be head of state? It certainly beats the nonsense of having to impose upon an innocent electorate the choice between our more conceited politicians, and at least everyone knows in advance which of their taxes are going to clean out whose moat.

On inspection, there's something to be said for every country choosing its leaders from among foreign citizens. It lends a dispassionate view to proceedings, and, further, New Zealand wouldn't have had to suffer a woodwork teacher as Energy Minister, nor Australia a funeral director as prime minister. David Attenborough could be invited to take over Brazil and put a gasping throaty stop to logging the Amazon out of existence, and Andrew Ritchie could take on China and stop them throwing away all their bicycles.

Mind, were it ever necessary to replace Her Majesty (one treads with caution. One can be locked in the Tower for predicting the death of the Queen) I'm not rooting for Prince Wilhelm (number 1176 until a few weeks ago) because of Hesse-Philippsthal-Barchfeld is even worse a surname than Mrs Saxe-Coburg-Gotha's. The House of Phillips does sound Englisher, though one hesitates over the prospect of a Queen Savannah the First.

Me? I'm supporting the former number 1451, one Sandra Morrison. If a sudden bout of Ebola virus were to wipe out a thousand or so members of the surprisingly extensive Royal Family then I would cheerfully submit on bended knee to a Queen Sandra Morrison, though I'm afraid I can't find anything out about her. She might be an estate agent in America or something. They often are. One of the world's abundant Richard Middletons is, I'm disturbed to Google.