I love Maxine. I love the sunglasses. I love the bunny slippers. And I really love her “I’m not taking any shit from the likes of you” attitude. Maxine is no cuddly septuagenarian. I’m sure she’s been a hell raiser since she’s been old enough to walk and talk. She may have grown up in an era when young girls were expected to be demure and lady like, but I’ll bet that Maxine could probably throw a baseball (or shoot a spitball) as well as any boy. Speaking of boys, she’s probably decked a few in her day. There’s not a doubt in my mind that if you look at enough old film footage, you’ll see Maxine dancing naked at Woodstock. TV’s Dr. Gregory House and Uncle Duke of “Doonesbury” fame are undoubtedly her descendants.
But what I love most about Maxine is how she reminds me of my aunt, a septuagenarian herself, who is a damn spunky old broad in her own right. The only difference is my aunt doesn’t wear sunglasses in the house.
And I don’t think she ever got naked at Woodstock.