To Be Rained Upon in a Patriotic Manner

It’s the Queen’s Diamond Jubilee which, for those uneducated plebs out there, means that the British public just had a long weekend in which to pay tribute to their Queen and celebrate her incredible 60 years of Royal service.

Q. How did the British public go about accomplishing this important task?
A. They toasted Her Royal Highness until they became inebriated to the point of not knowing who the Queen even was. 

Just kidding, the British public would never do that! They showed their appreciation for the Queen by turning out in their hundreds of thousands to attend 4 days of Jubilee events, stand in the rain for hours, and wave their British flags until they got tennis elbow.

My family and I decided to attend the Thames River Pageant to watch the 1000 boat flotilla, by which I mean we sat in the rain for 6 hours. After all, the origin of the term “British support” comes from the West Germanic phrase for “to be rained upon in a patriotic manner.”

We got up early and made our way to the London Eye in order to experience first-hand what it is like to be crushed by a deluge of humanity in a picturesque location.  

As the day wore on, the crowd became so stifling we all had to systematically stagger our breathing in order to have enough room for our rib cages to sufficiently expand. At one point, a lady standing in the row behind me announced loudly that she was starting to feel claustrophobic and was wishing she’d brought her firearm along to help enforce her personal space. We all laughed diligently, some louder then was strictly necessary.
 

Apart from that, there was a great atmosphere out there and a camaraderie that you rarely find outside of a Brady Bunch re-run: we were selfless - “Let me hold those 4 beers for you while you pour yourself another Pimms”, fun loving - “Hey! Let’s start The Wave”, and generous - “That homemade Union Jack ensemble is simply exquisite! A real visual treat”.

The Pimms, beer, and Vodka shots flowed freely. A group of comprehensively inebriated women to our right treated us to the full spectrum of their oral skills; which included a multifarious selection of patriotic songs, a moving rendition of “I’m Singing in the Rain”, and poignantly making discerning Jubilee-themed comments, such as shrieking “WOO HOO!” in a refined manner at the Policemen in their passing patrol boats.

The lady standing directly behind my camping chair insisted on pushing her body up against me in a resolute manner that suggested she was either trying to shelter me from the rain or would imminently like to become my conjoined twin. After 4 hours of this unsolicited body contact, even though I was attempting to appear nonchalant, all I was thinking about was how best to go about removing her ample bosom from the back of my neck without causing a scene.

The weather deteriorated as the day wore on until we realized that, despite our rain coats, umbrellas, plastic socks and Global Warming, we’d be dryer if we got up and actively swam in the river. As the rain increased, visibility decreased and conversation turned to nautical themes.

Spectator 1: Finally - there’s the Queen’s Royal barge!
Spectator 2: No, that’s a swan.
Spectator 1: (Peering intently) Then THAT’S surely the Royal barge.
Spectator 2: No... that’s a Police boat.
Inebriated Ladies: WOO HOO!!!

An hour before the flotilla was due to arrive, in acknowledgement of our 6 long hours of patiently waiting by the river in the hopes of seeing the Royal family and Pageant, 2 large river cruise boats sailed up and moored right in front of us, successfully blocking 95% of our view. And so we decided to abandon our spot, go home and watch the flotilla on TV, because we were wet, cold, and our chances of actually seeing the flotilla through a viewing pane now the width of Victoria Beckham was somewhat ambitious, given that we were too far back in the crowd and none of us had had the forethought to bring along a periscope or a firearm.