Several years ago I decided I wasn't going to waste my time reading anything that didn't offer something for my enlightenment, well-being, or pleasure. However, it is inevitable to resist the headlines in the tabloids while grocery shopping.
The latest one was a pip - "The wrinkles must go, Charles tells Camilla." This is what I envision: Charles and Camilla are dining in St. James Palace. He sits at one end of a 65-foot table and she at the other. It is candlelight romantic as three massive silver candelabra stretch across the table in amorous glow while quiet attendants scurry about on tiptoe serving food and shuffling plates and platters.
After dinner the couple enters the drawing room (which despite its name has no crayons) and puts on some romantic music. The lighting, by electricity, is less flattering than that of the candelabra. Charles looks closely at Camilla. She is self-conscious under his glare.
"What is it, Charles?" she asks.
He then utters that famous line, which while not on a par with Winston Churchill's, "I have nothing to offer but blood, sweat and tears," will undoubtedly be recorded in English history texts - "The wrinkles must go, Camilla."
"What are you talking about, Charles? What wrinkles?"
"The wrinkles in your face."
"Charles, I'm 54 years old."
"Fifty-six, Camilla," replies the prince.
"Fifty-four, 52, what difference does it make? At this age I'm entitled to a wrinkle or two."
"I can easily see four, plus the crow's-feet around the eyes which I'm not even counting as wrinkles," Charles replies.
"So what's the big deal? You got a wrinkle or two yourself, to say nothing of a big bald spot. And you're getting a little tummy, too, you know that, Charles?"
"Camilla, do you know who you're talking to?"
"You bet your sweet bum I do. And you're not even king yet."
"I am the man who would be king," says the prince.
"Yes, but you're not yet. Besides even if you were king now you couldn't force me to do anything. You know what happened to one of your predecessors."
"Which one?"
"King John."
"You mean all that rubbish about the Magna Carta?"
"Precisely," shouts Camilla with rising ire. "And don't forget what happened to the first King Charles. So just don't give me that 'the wrinkles must go' stuff."
"Camilla, Camilla, Camilla," says the prince in an ingratiating tone. "Don't you want to be beautiful?"
"You've always told me I was beautiful. Am I not now because I have a wrinkle or two?"
"Four, Camilla. And more on the way."
She inhales deeply. Holding her breath for a few seconds and letting it all out, says, "Charles, sometimes I think your father was right."
"You have no right to say that," he sputters. "Absolutely no right!"
"You had no right to say 'the wrinkles must go,'" she responds.
He thinks for a moment while trying to compose himself.
"Let's start all over," he says in a tone of moderation. "You are beautiful. But you could be even more so with a little touch-up here and there."
"Do you really think so?"
"I know it, my dear. There is a wonderful plastic surgeon in Beverly Hills California who could just "
"Why California? Surely there is someone in London," she says, cutting him off in midsentence.
"Sure there is, but California is the face-lift capital of the world. There is not a wrinkle in the entire state."
"You really want me to go, Charles?"
"I think it would be the best thing for you. With your basic beauty, you'd come back here looking like 20 years old. And I'll tell you something else. At the same time they can lift your bum and boobs and you'll be dynamite!"
"So, when can I get started?"
"You'll be on your way tomorrow. The surgery can be the next day and a quick recuperation in a private facility for two weeks and you'll be back here before you know it as the most gorgeous girl in the realm."
Three weeks later Charles is handed a letter by his valet. It reads:

Dear Chuckie Baby:
I'm not coming back to England. I was walking down Rodeo Drive last week when this Hollywood studio head parks his Rolls and chases me down the block. He said Meg Ryan had just walked off a picture and I was the only one who could save it for him, and he would guarantee me three more pictures for a start. The first of the three begins next month and I'm playing opposite Tom Cruise. Ta-ta, you old poop.
Love,
Camilla

© 2002 The Ojai Valley News

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