Of all the Royals, I enjoyed reading about Prince Harry and his mother, Princess Diana, the most; particularly Harry. He was the cool one. Harry did marched to the beat of a different drummer.

Over time, Queen Elizabeth II and Prince Philip remained so traditional. Perhaps it’s because they were from a different era.

Often Prince Charles appeared stuffy, reminding me of those English butlers who always have their noses in the air and never have time for anyone. And at times, his wife, Camilla, tries too hard to appear regal.

While William and Kate live in the 21st century as indicated by their dress and actions, they still seem to be more the regal type than most of the others; save for the Queen and her husband.

But Prince Harry and the late Princess Diana were more the down to earth type, at least they were in my book. With Harry, more than the others, so apt to pull shenanigans, he was my kind of Royal. Being accused of tomfoolery from time to time, although never admitting to any, I could more easily relate to the ginger member of the family than to the others; perhaps because my beard was a full red hue before graying.

So fascinated was I over Harry’s efforts to live his life as a error prone human and not a "perfect" royal who’s constantly hounded by paparazzi, that I was delighted when I discovered his wedding to Meghan Markle would be televised from beginning to end. And so I told my wife it all starts at 4 AM, indicating I would not be pulled away from the TV for any reason.

England, being six hours in front of us, posed a dilemma. I could hit the sack early the night before and wake up with the roosters, or I could tape the wedding and watch it at my leisure. My third option was to stay up all night and watch my favorite westerns until 4 AM. I chose the third.

Preparing for the big night, or perhaps I should say morning, I took a long nap late in the afternoon. Upon waking I watched the Tribe take it on the chin, courtesy of the Houston Astros, poured a cold soda with plenty of ice, gathered a bowl full of pretzels and chips and then relaxed in the recliner for a long night of entertainment.

Tomorrow, when it’s near noon and the TV stations return to regular broadcasting, I'll get another few winks of sleep before the 4 PM Tribe game. And I’ll switch back and forth to watch the Preakness and root for "Justify" to win the second leg of the Triple Crown.

After laying it all out, that was my overall agenda. I called it plan A. So excited was I about viewing the last Royal Wedding for at least the next two decades that I never prepared a "Plan B." I was sure none would be needed. That’s where I made my mistake.

About 7:15 in the morning, just as the heavies were about to make their grand entrance - the Queen, Prince Charles, Prince William, Prince Harry and a most beautiful bride - sleep finally won over the battle of heavy eyes.

I don’t recall what happened next but I can only assume the head fell forward, the arms dropped by the side and the eyes remained closed until 11:15 that morning when thousands had dissipated and headed for one of the two reception areas.

As I woke up I discovered Harry and Meghan were now the Duke and Duchess of Sussex. Unfortunately, yours truly slept through it all. But my regrets were short lived. I immediately felt much better when I remembered there was another royal wedding coming up.

Li’l Prince George could be wedded in two just decades.

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