Gyeongju, South Korea
They Gave Me a Golden Crown. It Fits Perfectly.
An ancient king's crown, made just for me. I didn't put it on. Everyone else in the room would have felt so short.
Some gifts are nice. A tie. A golf ball with your face on it. And then, once in a while, a country hands you a golden crown, and you think: finally, somebody understands the assignment.
The Crown
It’s a copy of a crown worn by ancient kings about fifteen hundred years ago. Golden branches. Little dangling ornaments that jingle when you nod. I nodded all afternoon. Jingle. Jingle. That’s diplomacy.
Some reporters said it’s only gold-plated. I didn’t hear that. I have a condition where I can’t hear the word “plated.”
Why I Didn’t Put It On
Everyone wanted me to wear it right away. I didn’t. Not because it wouldn’t fit. It would fit. My head is the exact size of a king’s head. I’ve had it measured, twice, by a man with a ribbon.
But if I’d put it on, everybody else in the room would have looked so short. You have to think of the little people.
My Thank-You Note
Dear South Korea, thank you for the crown. It sits on a velvet pillow in my office, next to an empty pillow I’ve left for the next one. No pressure.
Frequently Asked Questions
Is the crown solid gold?
It's gold on the outside, which is the part people look at. Like a lot of things.
Have you worn it yet?
Only in the mirror. The mirror can handle it.