Do YOU want to be Queen for a Day?!!! Jack Bailey, host of the sobby 1950’s TV show of the same name shouted this question at the beginning of each program. Watch an excerpt from an episode here. The show is the great-grandma of all of the reality shows. Three or four women got to tell their sad stories—as I recall some were banal, some pretty heart wrenching—the audience voted by clapping, the winning woman was literally crowned and cloaked and her dream of a new refrigerator or washing machine came true. How do I remember these things?

I have no sad sob stories to tell. Just wondering what it would like to be Queen for a Day in general. It’s hard to conjure up that scenario in today’s world, where Queens are pretty rare and meaningless. I’d probably summon the royal jet to take me exotic places with my entourage of friends and family. We’d travel with a jazz band and a singer on the jet.

How about beef burritos for lunch? Not too Queenly…but then my kind of Queen would be down in the royal kitchen broiling up the nachos each evening to drink with very dry, expensive champagne. The Queen’s bod would never vary from a perfect-for-her-height- and-age 125 lbs. And of course, the Queen would provide healthcare for all people even if she had to pay higher taxes. Don’t get me started on the healthcare drama here in the states. Suffice it to say that I fear that in the end the public will be handed, the kind of shit that it demanded (loosely quoted Hemingway).

And here is the stationery I would use. You can order it at Paper Nosh, it’s a must-have for aspiring Queens. Perfect don’t you think? Queen of the Frigging Universe. My kind of royal moniker.

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As a younger friend (but obviously not too young if she remembers this commercial) said in a recent email….Calgon, take me away! Happy Friday.

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