Charlie finally lost my goodwill on Wednesday.
He never asked to be born a prince. He never asked to be educated into that ridiculous accent.
The intense public intrusion and inability to lead a normal life never looked fun to me. As a human, I felt genuinely sorry for him.
Even as his mum died and he lifted the silly golden sceptre of monarchy himself, I still bit back any republican agitation, because I thought he was just a poor fellow human trapped in a trying situation.
But then he organised himself a party of “Scottish dedication and thanksgiving”, which took place in Edinburgh’s Old Town on Wednesday.
And he made us pay for it.
There was a parade element, which was comic. A series of old buffers in golden smocks were roared up the royal mile in specially made Rolls Royces.
There was a total lack of thronging crowds. In fact, it seemed quieter than usual.
I used to work just off the Royal Mile, and the place is usually rammed. Ye cannae move on it for tourists, workers, folk bustling about the parliament at Holyrood.
But somehow Charlie’s little parade for himself had actually reduced the number of folk about central Edinburgh to a thin line of tourists gawping at men on horses cantering up the cobbles.
Mixed reception for King Charles’ ‘coronation’ in Scotland
To be fair, around St Giles there was a good few hundred folk gathered behind barriers.
Many were there to cheer. Many were there to protest.
Republicans outside the big kirk booed and jeered everything that arrived at St Giles.
The crown had been booed, as it was rolled by in a Rolls Royce.
The various lads in golden vests had been booed.
But the real big cacophony of booing was saved for the King himself, as he waddled in dressed in his big silly green cape.
Various brass instruments parped, and three pipers blew furiously to stifle the sounds of the dissent. The aural result was an unhappy broth of discordant notes and lusty booing.
Monarchists might point out that, officially, this was a dedication of Charles to us. It was him publicly declaring his commitment to serving Scotland.
If that was the case, then why didn’t he pay for it?
King Charles’ sword won’t solve Scotland’s problems
The Scottish Government said it was paying for the event. This at a time when the government is scrabbling down the back of the couch for every spare penny to put into pay rises for NHS workers.
We also had to pay for a big new sword.
It cost £22,000. It has a bright purple scabbard, and a massive shiny thistle on the handle. And it is so lame it’s hard to look directly at.
It is kitsch and daft and belongs in a terrible tat tourist shop on the Royal Mile.
It looked right at home in Charlie’s silly party.
“[This event] is meant to be a service of dedication on his part to the tasks that he sees as urgent – providing leadership from the throne,” said one BBC commentator.
But, for me, the big issues today are the massive cost of living increases that are battering our budgets. They are the declining UK state that Scotland is attached to, and all the animal and plant deaths that the environmental collapse is causing and will cause.
Nae harm to him, but I dinnae think Charlie can lead us through that fae his golden throne in London.
Monarch can be a patron for the arts
All that being said, I absolutely loved the music at the event.
Big Charlie has always had a sincere love of the indigenous arts of Scotland, particularly music and song.
One of his good friends is a great Scots singer, and I myself once shared a Scots poem with him in Angus. He does value it.
We had the excellent singer Joy Dunlop make the most of the superb St Giles acoustics with a Gaelic song.
Legendary accordionist Phil Cunningham penned a new composition, which was played by a young up and comer Ryan Corbett.
Paul Mealor, a classical composer at Aberdeen University, provided further beautiful music.
And in those moments, Charlie revealed the potential in any utility he might still have to Scotland.
He is tremendously wealthy. He has friends in high places. And he has a long lasting affection for the music and culture of Scotland.
So, Charlie, if you want to dedicate yourself to Scotland, here’s the plan.
Use your money – your own money, not ours – on throwing big parties every year with new musical compositions.
Sponsor new plays by the National Theatre of Scotland that you can come to as the honoured patron.
Encourage and fund the arts, just like the renaissance kings of Scotland’s past.
Allow your real appreciation of this place to come through in your years on the throne.
But don’t repeat what you put us through on Wednesday. Because that was an embarrassment.
