Remembering my Drag Queen Fabulous Family

My Aunt Ruby passed away this weekend.  Like my grandmother, Alzheimers took her away from us way too soon.  I should be sad, but all I have thought of since I heard the news is that Aunt Ruby and Mamaw are up there painting Heaven red right now.  Many of ya'll knew them, so this blog will be nothing new to you, but I owe it to the rest of you to familiarize you with two ladies that were "drag queen fabulous" before DQF was cool.

As early as I can remember, the sisters were very fashion conscience.  Every morning started with putting on full-face makeup.  Next came the rat comb and that hair spray with the wheat on the can. (I still don't know what makes wheat/hair combo work, but EVERY old lady used it back then.)  After beauty came the outfit of the day, and boy was that fun.  If it was a stay-at-home day, the ladies wore short shorts with a matching top.  Now, I'm not talking old lady short like Bermudas, but Daisy Duke, 1 inch inseam hot pants.  The part that makes that stand out wasn't that the shorts were way too short for an old lady, but that they ROCKED those short shorts.  I mean, they had some fabulous legs for senior citizens.  At least once a week, the sisters loaded up for shopping, and that's when the fashions came out of the closet.  If you're thinking stretch pants and flowered shirts, you couldn't be any more wrong.  These ladies dolled up in leather pants, metallic shoes and purses, blazers, and a scarf or dickie (dickie- an adult size turtleneck bib worn under a shirt or sweater) to top off the ensemble.

If my cousin, Stephanie, and I were lucky, we got to tag along.  The sisters would hit a half off rack like a tornado.  Mamaw's favorite was "half of half" clearance.  It could be the wrong size, wrong color, or wrong gender for that matter, but she would buy it anyway and find somebody that could wear it.  One of the finniest things Mamaw would do is to go to Reeds and buy socks with a little alligator logo on it, go to Fred's and get a knit shirt, sew the gator to the shirt, stick it in the Reeds sack, and try to pass it off as a designer shirt.  We caught on when she accidentally put the logo on upside down, but we had to give her an 'A' for ingenuity.  Most shopping sprees ended with Stephanie and I hiding in the back seat while our grandmothers ate at Dudie's Diner (The name alone kept us from showing our face inside the diner.).

The sisters and their families spent every holiday together and every one could've been an episode on Jerry Springer.  We could always count on several folks to bring a cooler or two of beer and then the fun would begin.  My cousin and I would sneak More cigarettes from Aunt Ruby's stash and a beer or two from the cooler and head out to the woods to fake smoke and sip a beer and act like we were soooo cool.  By the time we went back in the house, half the family was three sheets to the wind and the other half was mad at that half for being three sheets, and inevitably somebody would leave mad and the rest of us enjoyed the rest of the holiday.  At some point, my cousin and I would talk Uncle Ottie (his name is Jerry, but was Ottie all my life) into taking us for fire works.  Now the drunks and the non-drinkers didn't know this part, but Stephanie and I didn't really want fireworks, we just wanted Ottie to take us with him so he would let Stephanie drive.  I mean, how much cooler could we be?  We were 14 and 12 years old and riding around with Stephanie's Dad passed out in the back seat.  We were WAY cool!  When we got back to the house with the fire works (several hours later), we would all stand out in the road and shoot fireworks.  The best part of fireworks was watching the drunk folks catching themselves on fire and being hit by roman candle shrapnel.  Nowadays, folks would think my cousin and I were raised in a 'dysfunctional' family, but to us, it was more of a 'dis-fun-  shun-all the people that try to rain on our parade' family.

So many adjectives come to mind when I think of Mamaw and Aunt Ruby.  Loud, Rowdy, Funny, Carefree, Fabulous, Social, Self-Confident, I could go on and on.  They loved life.  They went out to the Gaslight on weekends and danced and had a ball.  I know this because I went along sometimes and drank my Shirley Temple at the table while they cut a rug on the dance floor.  They would talk on the phone for hours, about what I still do not know.  They watched soap operas together.  They went to the beauty shop together.  They were two peas in a pod to say the least.

 I don't know why Alzheimers decided to take all that life they had inside them away, but here and there, I still got to see the that spark that I loved so much.  When Grant and I were dating, I took him to the nursing home to see Mamaw.  Aunt Jan Jan took him over to meet Mamaw and said, "Mama, this is Tracye's boyfriend, Lynn's son."  Mamaw's jaw dropped open and her eyes got big as saucers.  Jan Jan quickly added, "Tra's divorced, Mama, don't worry, she's not having an affair!"  Yep, my Mamaw still was hoping for some juicy gossip even toward the end.  During the last days, the doctor said she didn't know anybody or anything.  My Papaw leaned over and said, "Mildred, do you know who I am?"  After not speaking for weeks, she popped off, "HELL, HOWARD!" in that 'OMG, you idiot, why would I not know your dumb a--?' tone she reserved especially for him.  Aunt Ruby, on the other hand, wasn't shocked to meet Grant.  She was ecstatic.  She thought he was the cutest man in the world.  When she saw us, she would hug me and then hug him and casually let her hand wander down to his butt and CUP it ever so gently.  Grant was like, "I think Aunt Ruby must be in that stage of Alzheimers  where she can't control her urges because she keeps grabbing my butt," but I told him right quick, "Nope.  That's MY Aunt Ruby, the ultimate flirt."

I love and miss ya'll more than you will ever know, but one day we can pick up where we left off down here.  Until then, Ya'll girls have fun up there.  Shop 'til you drop.  Dance 'til you can't dance anymore.  Primp and sing, "You Great Big Beautiful Doll" all day long.  Keep God laughing at your funny stories.  Knowing ya'll, by the time I get up there to see ya'll again, God will meet me at the pearly gates wearing leather pants, a red blazer, and a dickie.