As the nation revels in the premature news that a young, newly married, couple are expecting a child, Laurence Inman has been pondering on likely names.
I am myself a right-thinking person. Everything I think is right. If it weren’t right, I wouldn’t think it. In fact, there is a filter in my mind which stops any wrong thought from entering before it has a chance to take root. If that were to happen, of course, it would immediately become a right thought, because I would be thinking it, and, as I’ve already explained, all my thoughts are right.
Don’t ask me who put the filter in place. It could well have been me again, but how would I know ?
I mention all this because I’ve been having some right royal thoughts about the new pampered brat who is due to be foisted on us next year sometime.
First I want to tell you about the Russian Chief Rabbi. He is both Jewish and Russian. If you could think of a name which both Jews and Russians would think accursed, what would it be ? You’re ahead of me, aren’t you ? Yes, his name is Adolf. Adolf Slayevich. I think often of his parents. What courage they had! I wonder if Johnnie Cash knew of them before he wrote one of his better known songs ?
How does this relate to our fairy-tale Countess, I hear you ask ?
Well, I have a suggestion for a name.
I’m not going to go with the usuals: Elizabeth, Anne, Diana, Charles, Edward, Henry and the rest.
Or the slightly American: Sky, Field, Trench, Gutter.
I want to swagger down Boy-Named-Sue Boulevard. I want to turn heads on the Avenue de Girl-Called-Herbert.
Call the new brat Adolf. If it’s female, Adolfetta.
Let’s have some fun for once. After all, it’s not as if the thing will ever get near the throne in any meaningful sense. Q will probably be here till 2020 at least. Then Charles has to stumble though the desert of his waning years. William will be into his sixties and we’ll be totally bored with the whole nonsense by that time, leaving little Adolfetta von Saxe Glucksberg Golgotha to live her life in peace as a private citizen.
You know I’m right.
Honest, they bit my hand off at Ladbroke’s.