Most people who see the movie 'Mame' with Rosalind Russell believe Patrick Dennis, the writer, stretched his imagination when creating the character of Auntie Mame. I know different, for a character much like her played Mame in my world growing up. She was my redheaded Aunt Colleen, a living breathing replica of Mame. Aunt Colleen, my dad's oldest sister (younger than him) was half Mame half Lucielle Ball. Their younger sister, Margene, was like the Vera Charles character in Mame (Coral Browne), but with flaming red hair. If you know what I am referring to - imagine these larger than life women in my bed in my tiny antique bedroom at the back of the house.
"Do you have a boyfriend?" Aunt Colleen would ask, with that husky, soft fun loving voice of hers. Before I could answer, Aunt Margene would turn to me and say "Have two!!". They would then turn to eachother, "Two? No, three, Catherine must have three. One she likes, one she doesn't like and one that takes her shopping". Their hysterical laugher would then fill the room and they would turn to me and ask if I was taking notes.
What made this commical is that both women married their high school sweethearts and have been with them 45+ years. Neither regretted this choice and their husbands (Uncle Leon and Uncle Sonny) are the perfect match for these two feisty, fun loving redheads. They were the first to teach me what it meant to be a redhead and the special type of men that understand and love them unconditionally.
"What is that you have Catherine?" Aunt Colleen peaks at me while putting on her nightgown. "My diary" I answer. Aunt Margene sits forward, "Is is good?" "Good?" I ask back, in my innocent voice. "Full of boys and things your parents don't want to know" she responds leaning closer. "Well, kinda" I half whisper and shrug my shoulders, thinking about the hockey players I had secret crushes on. "Good!" Aunt Margene smiles. Aunt Colleen pulls her night gown on and stares at me, "Well that certainly is better than my diary growing up - I never knew what to write in the darn thing. Every day I would open my diary, write the date, amd begin "Dear Diary...", and from there, I would ponder, sit a bit, yell at Margene, get ready for bed and come back to the diary, only to write "Love Colleen".
They both begin to laugh. "That was my diary for a year Catherine", Aunt Colleen continues, "Monday: Dear Diary, Love Colleen... Tuesday: Dear Diary, Love Colleen ... Wednesday: Dear Diary, Love Colleen...Thursday: Dear Diary, Love Colleen and so on..." Aunt Colleen smiles and then breaks out in fits of giggles. Aunt Margene looks at me, rolls her eyes, as I start to laugh, "It's true, boring as hell it was to steal the thing from my OLDER sister, and read it. She could have at least made something up!" Margene says as she tosses her head. "Oh and be like YOU?" Aunt Colleen shoots back. "Well, I AM the prettier one" Aunt Margene quickly retorts with a laugh.
Then they both turn to me, with hands on their hips and shout "Well who do YOU think is prettier?!"
OK, I may have been young, but I wasn't born stupid, and I already got the "redheaded thing" well understood, so I answer, "You both are!". Aunt Colleen shoots a look at Margene and says, "You KNOW she means me, because I am her favorite Aunt". "In your dreams, which we know are troubled" Margene answers back. Then, the three of us would fall over in a fit of belly laughs.
Which would lead to the discussion of sex and men, and how men want it at any price and I needed to set the price quite high, "You control the relationship Catherine" they would say, wise beyond their times. "And if a man tries to teach you otherwise, then you just drop him like a bad habit, becuase he will never be the 'one'".
"I do?" I asked, never quite understanding that 'redhead power' until turning 40 myself. I hadn't even kissed a boy, and we were discussing power struggles. It seemed to me the boys had all the power becuase I didn't want to be sweet 16 andnever really been kissed. Never being kissed by 16 seemed like the curse of Zoro (or something more tragic) coming back from the dead.
Aunt Colleen always snapped me back from these moments of self doubt with, "Do you remember 'possible - not possible'?" I pause, (which never works for any redhead, becuase he or she will jump right in and make a point). "When putting on perfume Catherine..." Aunt Colleen looks at me in a dead-on stare. She pulls out a bottle of perfume, blots her finger, and dots her lip and whispers "Remember Possible, Possible IMPossible". Then she blots her neck and shoulders, again whispering, "Possible". She refills her finger at the bottle and touches her breasts and whispers, "Possible". She blots again, then touches her wrists, "Possible". Finally she quickly rubs her pussy with the perfume and says loudly, "IMPOSSIBLE - (for men)". She grins, winks and repeats it to make sure I understand. I get it she means that although I might seak to smell great, there is one area that men should never be - the 'impossible' place ...well anytime soon in her mind. Aunt Margene is now giggling too, and finishes with "Our mother told us to always keep both feet on the floor, but then I had 5 children that way!"
Thus the rules for redheads 'possible-impossible' was born, along with "keep both feet always planted on the floor". This was way different sex education talk than what my mother, the RN taught me. My mother gave me charts and diagrams with technical terms I still can't pronounce. I knew exactly where babies came from, but my mother never talked to me about 'Possible, Possible, Impossible'. I guess Aunts are suppose to fill us in on those details. I still put on perfume this exact way every day, grin and think of her.
And I have one child from keeping both feet planted firmly on the ground...funny how that works.
C
