I am sick to death of privileged Harry and Meghan's whining, says Christa Ackroyd

No I haven’t watched for two reasons.

Firstly I am sick to death and bored to tears with any more whining from two privileged individuals who have made their very comfortable feather bed and now need to lie in it. And secondly, and more importantly, why on earth would I waste my precious time listening to more thinly disguised digs at this country and its people, a country, whilst not without its faults, I am immensely proud of. So it would seem not only are we racist, albeit ‘unconsciously’ but it appears we are also stand offish and cold, or at least that’s the inference from the great hugging debate. Or as madam Meghan put it “I’ve always been a hugger. I didn’t realise that’s really jarring for a lot of Brits.” Although I have expressed my sympathy for a couple wanting to make their own way in life however they choose, what is really jarring for me, and so many others, is making money out of airing your dirty linen in public, whether or not that linen is monogrammed. And as for that appalling mock curtsey her ladyship gave to demonstrate how she reacted on her first meeting with Her Majesty the late Queen, how rude, how childish and how arrogant. May I also suggest she takes a look at the expression on her husband’s face as the actress played out her role. He was embarrassed. As well he might be. This couple are becoming annoying now. They preach love and goodwill to all yet are quite happy to make serious accusations at worse, or at least mock us as a nation at best.

But back to hugging. This all stems from ‘Princess Hard Done Bys’ account of when the newly in love couple invited William and Kate for supper and there she was in ripped jeans and barefoot. Oh how very cool. How very bohemian. And although she didn’t say it in quite so many words her comment that she then “started to understand very quickly that the formality on the outside carried through” was a bloomin’ big hint as to how that evening went. And all because it would seem that Kate didn’t immediately rush to her and give her a hug. Well, I wouldn’t have done either. Not because I am cold and uncaring but because hugs should be reserved for people we know and people we love. And this was a first meeting. It’s not the way we do things, of that Meghan is absolutely correct. And may I remind her as we approach the season of supposed goodwill to all, that Judas betrayed Jesus with a hug. They are not always what they seem. They can be genuine and warm, or they can be false, throw away and inconsequential. And I know what kind of hugs I prefer. Hugs can be wonderful. Heaven knows after two years of the pandemic it was the thing we really missed, human contact. It was the first thing my friend and I did when we could finally get back together. And believe me neither of us are big huggers. But how good it felt. I am also going to admit that throughout it all, as part of our care bubble, hugs with our grandchildren kept us going. But hugs can also be uncomfortable and embarrassing. They can also be very insincere. In my industry of television hugs are given out like sweeties too often and too frequently by people you don’t even know. Air kisses are even worse. I have lost count of the times I have been enveloped in a hug and quite literally almost froze. I don’t hug people I have only just met. Another bug bear for me was when people I interviewed had been taught, by so called media experts, to use your name in the first and every subsequent sentence when we have never met. As if that made them sound like your chum. It immediately made me bristle and ensured a much tougher interview than perhaps would otherwise have been forthcoming. You don’t know me. You are here to do a job. So don’t patronise me.

Anyway I digress. As a family we were never great huggers. Not because we didn’t care but they were saved for the very best of occasions. A reunion after a time apart. A well done for an achievement reached. Or just in times of great emotion. But every night as a child I would curl up on the settee and my mum would stoke my hair or twist it behind my ears (I can still feel that soothing gesture). But hugging was never a daily occurrence. It was something to be earned. A symbol of real affection between people who really cared for each other. Anything else was considered insincere. I am always suspicious of people who hug at the drop of a hat. They are usually the most false and affected of individuals. What is wrong with a smile and a handshake and a how do you do or even a good to meet you on first making someone’s acquaintance. That I am led to believe is good manners. Yes I know things have changed. Yes I know we are in a touchy feely kind of a world. That doesn’t make us Brits jarring. It makes us polite and respectful. Hugs have to be earned. They hold with them fond memories in later years. Hugs from granny. Hugs from dear, dear friends who hold a special place in your heart. From a partner who no matter how long the years have been together, still wants to show they care and are glad they found you. They come when friendships or even love turns into something meaningful. And that is why they are treasured.

So to Princess Huggy, if that is all you can criticise our future King and Queen for, if that is what hurts, what offends, which part of British Culture you don’t understand, then forgive me but no wonder you didn’t fit in.

To all our loyal readers allow me to send you a virtual hug for Christmas. I feel we know each other, understand each other and we deserve one another. May you enjoy your Christmas parties. May you enjoy meeting up with friends and family for the big day. And yes, may we each enjoy giving those we love, those we know and those we care about the biggest hug in the world. A hug that means something, a hug that feels right and that is warm and sincere. We have ‘our truth’ too. And the truth is we shouldn’t waste any more time on those who think they have earned the right to tell us how to live our lives or how to behave.