The other day I was in a cab heading east on Bloor Street.

It was a beautiful, sunny day in autumn, a lucky day, even, but I was preoccupied by petty grievance. The driver was a smoker, and in order to air out his car before he picked me up he’d opened all the windows. You’d think I’d appreciate this, but I couldn’t get past the heavy, permanent smell of smoke, and the open windows were just serving as conduits, breaches through which all my seasonal allergies might stream. Somewhat unkindly, I asked him to close the windows, which he did, and with that it was like a wall went up between us.

As we approached Varsity Stadium he reopened a couple of the windows I had asked him to close, but before I could protest, music thumped into the car. A marching band–glittering in red and undulating like a flag– was in the stands performing the Battle Hymn of the Republic while a football game unfolded beneath.

Somehow this ignited a million unanticipated things at once, and we drove through the music with our heads out the window, as if it was weather we thirsted for.

On the field U of T was playing Queens and the crowd sounded like a tiny ocean. The athletes, all perfect, all aimed from birth to this moment in time, stood about like gold and blue statues. And one of them was going to make the best catch of his life, something he would return to again and again over the course of his life. Somebody else was going to get injured and never be quite the same. And in that crowd another person would see a beautiful young woman smile and feel nourished. A woman in a wheelchair felt the sun, and parents from small cities and towns, drove in to see their now grown children– now so terribly missed, now just beyond their protective reach.

The driver, whom I had forgotten about for a moment, startled me by speaking.

“I am not from here, so none of this is familiar to me,” He gestured toward the football stadium. “But still, when I hear that music and see all the people, it calls me in my bones. It is a kind of nostalgia, but for what I do not know.”

Q: Obviously commoners are not allowed to touch Royalty on account of our divine lineage. Sadly, many of the “people” are now ignorant of this and the protocol is often broken, but only at behest of the Royal, who may deem to shake a hand or pose with a commoner’s pet. However, recently, a nouveau riche commoner completely shattered protocol by putting his big, powerful, black arm around me. He was a large commoner, good stock, and covered in the intoxicating musk of the peasant, I felt so small and vulnerable yet protected within his embrace! I have to say, it stirred certain feelings and they’re scary! What should I do?

Confused Kate

Dear Confused:

Many Royals harbour secret desires to go “slumming,” and you shouldn’t be alarmed that this commoner has stirred such feelings in you. However, you must remember that serving your country is of cardinal importance, and that nothing, not even a new and thrilling lust, should get in the way of this holy duty! You must not let the public face of the Royal Family slip!!!

However, you should keep in mind that for millennia Royals have been fulfilling this need for “slumming” by indulging their fetishes in private, behind castle walls, using slaves, concubines and prostitutes. You have a vast and excellent staff working beneath you, utilize them! They will be only too happy to earn a shadow of your gratitude by corralling the vulnerable and desperate to serve as playthings for you! Don’t get hung-up on this one peasant, remember, they’re in limitless supply and completely disposable!

Q: Imagine that a great King was put in a situation where he had to impose a law on his people to prohibit sex for all between the ages of 9 and 18 in an attempt to quell the AIDS pandemic. It would be a wise and just law, no? The King loves his children and wishes to protect them! Imagine then, that this great King, much loved by his people, had 25 wives, and legions of “liphovela,” all trying to become pregnant by the great King in order to prove their fertility and become one of his official brides. If one of them was selected, as is the custom, during the topless virgin reed dance, and she was between the ages of 9 and 18, would the great King then be in conflict of interest?

Great King

Dear Great King:

You are not only above the law, you are the law, so the short answer to your question is a resounding NO! However, it is important for a great ruler to keep harmony amongst his people, lest they rebel, and so I would respectfully suggest that you compensate the family of this particular liphovela with a token bought from your great wealth, which must certainly be in excess of 200 million,  such as a cow, cell phone or Nutribullet. Easy-Peasy!