One of the New York Times' editorials on June 22, 1982:
"'The possibility of perfection,' we said just a year ago, ''is, in the end, what a royal wedding is all about. It is inconceivable that the diamonds will be fake, the trumpets out of tune, or the horses spavined nags.'
The possibility of perfection is, in a way, what a royal birth is all about too. It is inconceivable that Baby Boy Windsor won't be dripping in lace at his christening. Won't ride in a well-sprung pram pushed by a well-trained nanny. Won't own a silver spoon, not to mention a silver knife, fork, pusher and cereal bowl. Will ever be dragged screaming through fifth floor furniture while his parents shop for a couch.
Bald, cranky and confused though he may be -which is to say like every other newborn - Baby Boy Windsor is, after all, a Prince. Princes, and Princesses, fuel fantasies. No wonder the British are rejoicing, or that one of the women who waited hours outside the hospital for news of his arrival exulted: ''The world must really envy us.'' The Prince and Princess of Wales's first child is not only a new link in an old and cherished chain but new magic for a nation's imagination."
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