SO having got his “Freedom Flight” the hell outta London, Prince Harry is now considering hot-footing it back on the BA282 from LAX.
(After all, with the plug pulled on their multi-million-pound deal with Spotify, and their Netflix one on the brink, private jets soon may be a thing of the past.)
The Duke of Sussex has reportedly sought advice from trusted former aides on how to mastermind a return from exile in the US.
He’s said to be consulting pals from his BC (Before California) life, potentially about reviving some sort of part-time working royal life.
He is, people reckon, fed up with playing second fiddle to his stunningly ambitious wife, Meghan.
And Harry has finally grown sick of the sycophantic, out-of-touch Hollywood PR machine — one that appears to be guiding him wrong every step of the way.
After all, if there’s an own goal to be scored, striker Harry’s your man.
Be it flying in a private jet to preach at a charity event about climate change, or wanging on about global inequality from the comfort of his £12million Montecito mansion, it’s fair to say Harry could have been better advised over the past few years.
His dogs, Guy and Mamma Mia, would have done a better job.
And despite their very best efforts, with special mention to Oprah, Harry and Meghan were never going to end the monarchy.
The royals have survived beheadings, megalomaniacs, divorces, exiles, gay kings (hello, James I) and arrows to the eye.
They’ll survive an actress from Suits, and Harry with his 10-metre swimming badge.
Harry and Meghan have made their (1,000-count Egyptian cotton) bed, now they must lie in it.
The last time I wrote about the pair, several of you emailed in saying they deserved no more airtime.
So I resolved to write less about them.
But here we are again.
Because us Brits have long memories — we can forgive, but it may take time to forget.
But Harry just can’t come running back to Britain every time he realises the manicured grass in Montecito isn’t always greener.
The Duke loves a bit of therapy. Perhaps it’s time he became reacquainted with the original self-help tome, written in 1936, How To Win Friends And Influence People.
Because at the moment he’s doing neither.
Some of his schemes and grand plans are laudable — take the Invictus Games, a genuinely brilliant initiative that has done so much to help so many.
Harry betrayed his family badly, and very, very publicly.
Clemmie Moodie
But to jump straight back into royal circles, to land back in the gilded cage he previously professed to hate, won’t be easy.
Harry may well want to repair the fractured relationship with his dad.
Let’s hope he does. But this must be done behind closed doors, not with a camera crew in tow.
Harry betrayed his family badly, and very, very publicly.
Public redemption isn’t an overnight thing — a few WhatsApps to his old Etonian pals won’t cut it.
If Harry is truly sorry, only time will tell.
POSSIBLY one to send him running back to the barbers quicker than you can say “shaken not stirred”, here’s Daniel Craig, looking very Richard Madeley.
And, tbh, in my book, Madders, 68, looks a hell of lot hotter than Mr Craig, a whippersnapper of 56.
LABOUR are considering union recommendations that times table testing should be scrapped in primary schools.
They want Keir and co to cut the number of tests to improve children’s mental wellbeing.
If the prospect of 7×8 (56) brings kids out in a cold sweat, then we have a problem.
Now, I was a naturally competitive child, and LOVED nothing more than my weekly Monday morning spelling and times tables tests. Yep: Year 4, unbeaten spelling champion, St Ives School, 1990.
Sure, not every kid loves exams, nor excels at them. But how are children supposed to deal with real-world grievances and stresses if they’re mollycoddled?
They won’t.
IMAGINE my confusion last week.
My best friend, Simon, messaged to say he’d Googled me “as I like to do every now and then”, only to see a giant photograph of Vanessa Feltz looming. He was confused.
Yup, it appears some wag has gone to the effort of replacing my, granted, quite flattering, Dorian Gray-esque Google homepage image with one of Vanessa, 62.
CONGRATS to Channel 4 for their excellent coverage of the Paralympics.
They are also the first mainstream broadcaster to employ a deaf person as a presenter.
EastEnders actor and Strictly winner Rose Ayling-Ellis became the first deaf broadcaster to host live sports coverage, and has done so superbly alongside Clare Balding.
The move required a lot of time, effort and money from C4: An earpiece person, two translators, a live BSL interpreter and an exec updating a tablet with notes for Rose to consult – and let’s hope it doesn’t deter other broadcasters from following suit.
Because it shouldn’t. This isn’t tokenism for tokenism’s sake.
It’s about breaking down perceptions around those with disabilities.
OASIS’S long-awaited comeback is a sell-out.
And, quite literally for the working-class boys from Manchester, a sell out.
Millions of us wasted hours queuing online for tickets, only to be callously ripped off by Ticketmaster and its “dynamic pricing”.
If Oasis, who dubbed their rivals Blur “art school w*s”, want to win back the affections of their heartland, they’d do well to follow the suit of Crowded House.
Four years ago the band demanded all fans get refunded once they realised their management had agreed to the selling of “premium” tickets.
Oasis will put on the show of a lifetime.
But it’s time they looked after those who made them first.
BRITS are to be weighed at work under new plans unveiled in an NHS drive to catch heart disease and diabetes early.
Genuinely, I’d rather have a heart attack than be hauled across the office floor and plopped on some scales for all to see.
ONCE upon a time, we smoked on planes, in the office and in restaurants.
Frankly it was a bit gross.
(I still remember my dad absolutely SEETHING when we were seated in the row behind the smokers on a long-haul flight to Florida. I excitedly landed, aged nine, to meet Mickey Mouse, reeking like an ashtray.)
I digress.
Previous governments have done much to reduce the visibility of smoking, and help people cut down. And that’s a good thing.
But banning smoking from pub gardens is ludicrous on many levels.
And surely cannot, and will not, be enforced.
SUCCESSFUL and hardworking newly promoted woman goes on holiday. The End.
But no, people are up in arms at seeing Deputy PM Angela Rayner dancing behind a DJ booth in one of Ibiza’s most exclusive nightclubs, while Parliament was still in recess.
Because obviously a working-class woman like Ange – a gran no less! – should be roaming around a campsite in Skegness, reading Pravda in her deckchair.
FGS.
