Aw, Jeez, Harry

When Prince Harry, with wife, Meagan, and infant, Archie, renounced their titles to leave the British royal family and move to L.A. as private citizens, I thought, “Good for them.” After watching The Crown, I felt great pity for the privileged but miserable public lives of the Royal family members, especially Prince Charles.

Recently, it was reported they were living in an ultra-luxury eight-bedroom, 12-bathroom Tuscan-style villa in Beverly Hills, owned by Hollywood tycoon Tyler Perry but that Harry “absolutely hated L.A.,” and the family were looking for digs in Santa Barbara. Since I also would absolutely hate to live in L.A., I felt a sort of a kinship with Harry. Perhaps he and his family could settle into my old neighborhood on the Mesa?

My old house on Salida del Sol would be perfect for Harry, Meagan, and Archie. Its unique layout, with a bedroom at each of the four corners, provided plenty of room for our family of five. The yard was small enough for them to do their own yardwork. From the front yard street parking strip, they could see the ocean. When Archie was old enough he could simply walk down the street with all his neighborhood playmates and into the playground of Washington Elementary School, as my daughters did. I could ride the bus, bike, or even walk to downtown Santa Barbara where I worked. My family had a wonderful life there.

Alas, imagine my rude awakening when I read that the former royal family members had already moved into a $14.7 million, 7.4-acre estate in Montecito that had seven bedrooms and 16 bathrooms. Aw, jeez, Harry. I thought you was a regular bloke. Silly me.

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