Did you ever meet a true, honest-to-gawwd prince? I did...

I am planning to post something tomorrow, and it got me on the topic of monarchy, and that sort of thing, which set off some explosions in what is left of my brain... and I remembered the prince. It is an odd story that spans thirty years. Here is what I wrote:

The hotel I worked in was called the three ravens... and had three ravens placed around a crown. There is a pretty story connected to that... the heir was a baby, wandered out on the grounds, and the family went crazy looking for him. And they saw three ravens circling a tree, and found the child sleeping beneath it. Which is how it supposedly became the central part of the family coat of arms.....

I sort of love stories like that, am incurably romantic. It probably isn't true, but always found it nice, somehow.

So tomorrow, I am gonna GET that photo.... and post it.

I did know a real prince for many years. He was one of the most powerful and richest in Germany. He showed up one night my first year in the hotel. It was raining cats and dogs, and he came in dressed in a plastic poncho, and I thought he was a farmer. So I signed him in and needed to see some ID, and he gave me his passport, and there it was, black on white: The Prince of Schaumburg zur Lippe. I froze inside, how to address him? And then I thought, well fuck it, am American and stuck with the polite form of adress. It was way weird.

He stayed with us yearly for thirty years. Always took the most modest rooms, and was one of the kindest, most interesting people I have ever met. His passion had to do with railway systems, and he was always here for seminars on the subject. We became a little closer over the years, well, as close as you can get to a prince.... One evening I told him about my first reaction that night, and he smiled, and said, 'Oh, my dear young man! Who cares about those things nowadays???' And smiled.

Proust was right about one thing: the higher the title, the more gracious and kindly they are.

A few years ago, he came in and told me it would be his last visit with us. He was pushing ninety, and had become hard of hearing, so he couldn't follow the lectures at the symposium. 'I really can't expect them to speak louder so that I can hear, you know...' It moved me so much, I did something unthinkable. I reached over, and took his hand, and covered it with both of mine. And said, 'I am so very sorry to hear this, but I wish to thank you for all the people who work here for being such a wonderful and loyal guest for all these years, and I hope that you will stay well.' It was sort of unheard of, and his first reaction was sort of being upset that I would touch him... But then he relaxed and smiled. And said, 'Well, I should hope so...'

He died six months later.

Listen, I have never been some star-struck idiot, and have dealt with famous people, and left them their room to be who they were, and never got in their face, or wanted autographs, they just wanted to be alone and as anonymous as they could be. And I never did any sort of social climbing. Find that sort of thing hideous.

And I never invaded the Prince's space either. For me, he was a window into history, and a remarkable man. And I came to like him very much. Because he was modest, and kind, and very funny, and he wasn't Prince Charming, or all the clichés you can imagine about princes... He was just a nice person.

Ok, so that is what I wrote. I was remembering a real gentleman. He had immense power, you can't imagine. But he was genuine. I would equate that with really being behind a politician, one who is out there, and works quietly behind the scenes, and achieves something good. It isn't about 'royalty'... it's about people who do good and do not advertise it.

It probably makes no sense. Except to me.

How was your day???