My Coronation Tale (or “Why is David wearing tails?”)
Though I ended up spending most of my life in the UK, I don’t have strong feelings about the monarchy one way or the other, so I hadn’t given any real thought to whether I should do anything coronation-related until this morning, when the commemorative artillery barrage began to rattle my windows (those cannons are surprisingly loud!) But the more I thought about it at that moment, the more it seemed to me that fate was drawing me in to the day’s events… And it all started with my tails.
Being a singer, I have worn a tux dozens of times, but though I have had a set of tails for decades I have probably worn them no more than two or three times. What occasions call for them, after all? Well, as it turns out, a coronation celebration is one of the few legitimate opportunities. Then as I pondered this I remembered how it is I came to have tails at all. I had inherited them from my grandfather. And why did he have them? Because he needed them to go to the Queen’s Garden Party at Buckingham Palace - something I remember him being inordinately proud of.
Moreover, as it happens, I had just moved to my new home, a 19th C merchant’s mansion less than 500m from the Lieutenant Governor’s residence. So I donned the tails and strolled next door.
I wasn’t able to take advantage of the L-G’s kind invitation to drop in and watch the ceremony, but I did step in and sign the guest book on behalf of my grandfather, who I like to think would have been pleased. And a security guard was kind enough to provide me with the commemorative stuff!
If this has whetted an appetite for quirky stories from Newfoundland about their interactions with the royal family, I heartily recommend this episode from the comic memoirs of one of our local legends, Mark Critch, recalling the visit of Charles and Diana to the city in 1983.













