"Extra! Extra!"

Regular readers are aware of the enjoyment I experience, studying newspapers from other places. Whether it’s London or Michiana – possibly the first pairing of those locales in the same sentence ever – articles from elsewhere, to myeye, seem to be more varied and interesting than the ones regularly found in the L.A. Times, which are mostly the president‘s nuts and the Dodgers are losing.

Cases in point:

Our recent trip to England coincided with the annual Wimbledon tennis tournament.  Being, I guess, tired of boring coverage about winning and losing, a probing London reporter unearthed this tidbit:

Headline:  (Which pretty much lets the cat out of the bag)

“Rufus the hawk working overtime to outsmart Wimbledon’s pigeons”

“Stop the Presses!”

Apparently, for the past decade, or so, Wimbledon has employed a scavenging “bird-of-prey”, an itinerant hawk-for-hire – “Have Claws, Will Travel” – brought in to frighten the pigeons away from “Centre Court.”  Because you do not, of course, want,

“Serena looks up to deliver an “overhead slam” and… Oh, dear!  Some pigeon poop plopped into her eye!”

Apparently, Rufus makes sure that does not happen.

Unfortunately for this valuable enterprise, the ongoing construction of a retractable roof over what they call Court 1, “has given the pigeons a new range of hiding spots to roost and lay eggs”, making Rufus’s job considerably more difficult.

Explained professional hawk handler Imogen Davis, 

“… it does mean more work indeed… it’s practically doubled the work.”

There was no mention of a boost in compensation, but “fair play” demands that be the case.

Extra carrion in Rufus’s pay packet, perhaps?

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And then there was this.  (Not in some “tabloid” but in the generally respected London Times):

Headline: (again, of the “beans spilling” variety) 

“Scientists find way to make paralysed mice walk again”

A godsend for disabled mice everywhere, though the news is less hopeful

for makers of tiny wheelchairs and matchstick crutches.

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Finally, speaking of the president, who visited England on his way to stink up the NATO conference, unquestionably my favorite story of all.

A subversively subtle response to the U.S. Commander-in-Chief, whom on a technicality privately characterized as “We hate the guy!” no member of the royal family was willing to meet with. Other than the Queen, who had to. 

Here’s what she did.  God bless her.  Age 91.

Quoting the article in its entirety because it’s worth it:

“For years we have believed the Queen to be politically neutral, figurehead who suppresses her views underneath the weight of the crown. However, this week we have learned that she does express her opinions through the medium of accessories.

“On Tuesday a royal jewellery blog – who knew there was such a thing? – observed and decoded the brooches worn by Her Majesty during Donald Trump’s recent visit to the U.K.  These included the “Canadian snowflake brooch” – “snowflake” being a derogatory term used by the far right for liberals who protest about things such as putting children in cages – and a brooch” – Get this!– “given to the Queen by Barack and Michelle Obama, Trump’s sworn enemies, on their recent visit.

“Unless she’s been wearing a hat made of tiny orange hands that spell out “F*** YOU”, she could not have made her apparent distaste for Trump any clearer.  So, total shade thrown, without a word.  The Queen’s the Queen for a reason.”

Protocol requires me to leave Her Majesty the last word.

But, is that girl cool, or what!