In the days when I used to drink in bars, there was always the consolation of my reflection in the mirror behind the bar. I enjoyed watching myself get better-looking as my tab got bigger.
Sadly, I'm not the saloon customer I used to be, and so I spend a lot more time in my living room, watching a cat sleep and waiting for my wife to get home from work. Lately, I've been thinking about Harry, Duke of Sussex, and his wife, Meghan, both of whom did the rabbit from the British royal family.
While I'm sure they've still got a few pound notes stashed in Harry's top hat, they're going to need something to do in what promises to be a long life of relative insignificance. You can't be interviewed by Oprah every month forever, not after that stinker of a first interview.
So, I've been thinking hard while watching the cat sleep, and I've got a little list of things the rabbit-y royals can do in their American lives.
Reality Show: Is it possible to be such a degraded has-been that you CAN'T get a reality show? Put 'em in a mobile home somewhere in one of the Bible states, and watch them interact with their meth-cookin', disability-fakin', heavily armed neighbors. Hilarity ensues, and, if Harry has an affair with a Waffle House waitress named "Twyla," then watch the ratings explode like, well, like a meth lab.
Pro Wrestling: Meghan in something cut high on the thigh and Harry in one of those British guard uniforms with the bearskin hat. Harry's finishing move could be "running away."
American politics: No qualifications or breeding required, not much real work, and it's easy to stay in Congress longer than some kings stayed on the English throne.
Porn: C'mon. You know you've thought about it. Plot: Harry's all alone in the palace one night, and he orders a pizza. The delivery person is a young multiethnic American girl. And... go!
Rap Music: Another field open to the talent-free. Harry could call himself "The Dook," and Meghan could cling to one of his muscular thighs while he does diss raps about the Queen.
Drug Addiction: Both Harry and Meghan could get addicted to crack (I hear it's easy), go into rehab, and then hit the confessional/motivational speaker circuit. "We had jeweled hats and millions of subjects, and we threw it all away for that pipe," Meghan could say. Americans love recovering junkies almost as much as we love doing drugs.
In a country where Kim Kardashian is still at least a little famous, and Donald Trump went from pro wrestling to president, it's not that almost anything can happen; it's that ANYTHING can happen.
For a modest amount of money, I'll be more than happy to meet Harry and Meghan in a bar. The three of us can drink an inferior brand of bourbon and watch us ourselves get better-looking in the mirror.
And here's one more piece of advice for Harry and Meghan: The mirror is lying.
To find out more about Marc Munroe Dion and read features by other Creators Syndicate writers and cartoonists, visit www.creators.com. Dion's latest book, a collection of his most royal columns, is called "Devil's Elbow: Dancing in the Ashes of America." It is available in paperback from Amazon.com, and for Nook, Kindle, GooglePlay and iBooks.
Photo credit: alfcermed at Pixabay