RULE BRITANNIA!

"Don't you know there's a Jubilee on?” Well unless you had been hiding under a stone or had been buried alive as part of an endurance record the chances are that you have noticed it. Most of the celebrations passed me by I will admit, probably because they were on too late and I was asleep. Or they may have been on too early and I was asleep then too.

The big concerts that events like this prompt are not usually to my taste and I wonder if they are to their taste of the Royals. To this later.

I am not an ardent Royalist, in fact I don't hold strong views either way. There are arguments and counter arguments as to the merits or de-merits of having a Republic I admit.

The way I look at it. Would I want the job? What do you have to do? What does the Queen do for us?

She does put us on the map. Whether that translates into tourist cash I do not know but I have been in the middle of nowhere in the USA and have had baffled Rednecks trying to figure out if I was French or Australian (The latter is preferable in the Midwest, incidentally), for if you are French you can see their trigger finger start to itch.

However when you say you are "British" the puzzled look clears somewhat and the information slowly courses round the brain until out pops: "Yore frum Englund right?" (Sorry Wales and Scotland, it seems we are all lumped together in this one).

"Correct"

"You got that Queen"

"Correct"

When people complain about hereditary privilege, or conversely people talk about "60 years of service", you do have to spare a moment to think of what Her Majesty and the others senior Royals have had to put up with.

60 Years of endless Church Services. (Sorry I was in the choir as a 10 year old and was terminally bored).

60 Years of having to officiate at the State opening of Parliament and read the rubbish the Politicians have written for you and try and pretend that it somehow is "yours".

60 Years of having to watch football matches when in the Royals case they would probably be rather out riding or shooting.

60 Years of waving

60 Years of having to ask nervous people "So what do you do?"

60 Years of either being in - or sending your loved ones off - to join the Armed Forces when probably what they really wanted to do with their lives was star in Musical Theatre.

60 Years of lunches and banquets when all you probably wanted was cheese and biccies on a tray in your dressing gown watching Corrie. (Note to morbidly obese people here: The Royal Family seem to be pretty svelte considering the huge quantities of rich food they are surrounded by. They know that as part of their contract with GB Ltd , "The Firm" should look good at all times and be a credit to the nation!)

Imagine how the coverage would have been affected if there was not effective weight control:

"60 Glorious Stone. The crowds thronged in their scores outside Buckingham Palace to watch Her Majesty being craned out of a first floor window as a helicopter from the Queens flight struggle to convey the vast bulk of our Monarch to a Banquet at Westminster Hall".

Worst of all - and this is where they really earn my respect:

60 Years of the Royal Variety Show. 60 Years of watching conjurors and acrobats along with "safe" comedians. One occasionally poking a very gentle bit of fun at the Royals and the newspapers reporting it as if he or she had dropped their trousers and mooned the box.

Which bring me neatly to all the trips around the world. Sounds fun until you realise it’s yet more of the same.

60 Years of banquets with people who you can't quite understand and food you probably wouldn't choose. Not sure what the Royals like to eat on their days off. I have passed Buckingham Palace at all hours over the years and have never once seen a pizza delivery boy on a moped ringing the bell. Nor have I seen any Indian Takeaway Menus poking out of glove compartments of Royal limousines or "The State Landau" (Is it Landor or landow, incidentally?)

60 Years of visiting "The Commonwealth" where it’s odds on that there is going to be a demonstration or two against you. Worse still the possibility that someone is going to try and shoot you as the figurehead even though you have no political clout. Then when you visit New Zealand you get mooned by Maori's. Or Brisbane where a bloke runs naked alongside your limo with the Australian flag clenched between his bum cheeks. (What is it about the Southern hemisphere)?

At times like these surely all you really want to do is to lean out of the car hooting and making that farting noise with your hand in your armpit. Or in the case of the naked flag waving buttock man shout:

"It’s like a penis but smaller"

Or due to his incredible muscle control.

"With an act like that you should be on the Royal Variety Show. I'll call Lew see if he can get you a spot in the first half."

However you have to maintain your dignity. I would have loved to have been a fly on the wall when the list of acts for the Jubilee concert was posted on the board at Buck House. Did Prince Phillip sweep Elizabeth into his arms and dance round several acres of living room as they both shrieked in unison:

"YAAAY WE'VE GOT TICKETS TO SEE CHERYL COLE"!!!