The future of the world

Last Tuesday was my friend Guillaume's birthday, and he arranged a dinner for himself at Shimla, a swanky Indian restaurant on London Road. Nineteen of us were there. We had drinks (I had Maker's Mark on the rocks and thought of Linda Roebke), we ate good food, and we talked about the world and life.

The waiter was wonderful. At one point he asked us if anyone at the table was British. I looked around and realized for the first time that no one was. I knew everyone and counted how many nationalities were represented: There were people from 14 different countries -- Finland, Sweden, Denmark, Cyprus, France, Italy, Australia, New Zealand, South Africa, Hungary, Austria, Germany, Canada and the United States.

I'll probably never eat with such diverse company again. It occurred to me later and with great force that the people at that table will be the people who steer this planet in whatever direction it's going to go. There were students of law, journalism (guess who), economics, philosophy, politics, neurology, biology, sociology, physics. They're all brilliant, sociable and multilingual. They're my generation. They're graduating soon and becoming leaders.

I hope they know what they're doing. I hope they give me good things to write about. Good, positive things.

Monarchies are so 18th Century

I hate to bash on people's traditions, but this royalty business in England has got to go. I'll grant that Britons don't pay much attention to the royal family, from what I've seen. Other than in tabloids, no one really cares what Elizabeth II is up to. In practice, England operates just like the States: The media and the public discourse is concerned with members of parliament and the prime minister.

But de facto practices aside, the idea that a basically democratic country could still allow a royal family to exist doesn't make sense to me. The phrase "queen worship" frequently comes to mind. For example, Prince William is to be addressed as "Your Royal Highness." I'm sure he's a great guy, but what did he do except be born? The queen even has a little logo that goes on postal cars and other things royal. It's a capital E and an R with a crown and the Roman numeral II in the middle. It reminds me of the LBJ (LeBron James) logo, like ERII is some sort of brand.

Royal succession would never exist in the United States. My friend from France, another nation born of a revolution, doesn't like the queen worship, either. If you want respect and influence in a place where men are created equal, you earn it.

Here's my point, in numbers: In 2006 the royal family received almost $70 million from British taxpayers. That goes towards things like $50,000 vacations for pleasure and million-dollar garden parties.

Visit to Bath

I've booked a train to Bath and back on Monday. Weather.com says it will be 42 (Fahrenheit) and rainy -- just my luck. I hope the city is as pretty in the rain.

I was counting on some National Geographic-quality photos, but I'm finding the grayness of England difficult to work with. Thus, I'm not a photojournalist. But with any luck, maybe I can take a picture or two in the school of J.M.W. Turner, who's so popular here, and capture some of the "rain and steam" of the former Roman outpost.

(The picture here is an archway over the walkway that leads to the Castro de St. Maria, an Anglican church built in the 12th Century, in Leicester. The archway was perhaps built in the 13th or 14th century, given its shape.)

A word on attire

An observation:

In the United States, a female might slip into pink sweatpants, tidy up her hair into a knot, drag some cosmetic tools across her face and pull on her Uggs before running off to class.

An American male might pull yesterday's boxers out of the heap on his floor, find some jeans and a hoodie and head out.

For a British lass, sweatpants are for going to the gym. Her hair is down and her skirt is neat, complimented by slender boots.

The masculine Briton will dress himself in dark, straight jeans, a tight-fitting sweater, scarf and jacket.

(The photo is a detail of a monument in front of Leicester City Hall to local British soldiers who died fighting in South Africa.)