What Auntie Maudie has to say
A jailbird suitor, a husband at clogging class, a town drunk and a 45-year-old with cold feet: the Celtic Mirror's semi-fictitious Irish auntie answers them all.
As printed in the Celtic Mirror, March 2003
Auntie Maudie has spent her whole life imparting advice to friends and family whether they want to hear it or not. The Celtic Mirror taps her unique insight to offer readers a chance to hear what their wise, old, gray Irish Auntie might offer when asked about life's little challenges. Of course, what she offers isn't meant to be taken seriously, but it is great fun to read what she has to say. (O.K., we admit that this column is semi-fictitious. It's here for entertainment, and who knows, you may learn something. We, the editors did.)
Dear Auntie Maudie:
I am a 55-year-old woman. I have a very good career, hold a Masters Degree in Psychology and am considered to be very attractive with a bubbly personality. I've never been married, as I have never found the man that could stimulate my mind to the degree I want. Recently, about a month ago, I met and fell in love with the most wonderful and caring man in the world. He worships the very ground I walk on and has promised to marry and care for me for the rest of my life. Oh, Auntie Maudie, I am so very much in love. The problem is that all my friends seem to feel that this is not the right man for me. I cherish my friends, but truly love this man of mine. The only thing that keeps us apart is that he is currently serving time in a state facility for some silly crime that he swears he never committed. I truly believe him when he tells me that the eyewitnesses were just trying to frame him. Unfortunately, he will be there for another 10 to 20 years. What do I do? - PenPal
Dear PenPal: Are you out of your bloomin' mind girly? You say you are so almighty educated. Where did you leave your common sense? Or do you be sitting on it, I'm askin' you. And you say you've never been married. And just what are you savin' it for lass? You can't take it with ya to the pearly gates don't you know. And of course he worships the very ground you walk on, that's because he can't get to it, the ground or anything else I'm thinking. I can understand you're wantin' to be blissfully wed at your advanced age, but my goodness girly, can't you be looking in places other than the toilet? And to be married to that sot, that's stretching it a bit far do ya think? Remember, you search in garbage cans all you'll be finding is rotten cabbage. Now you just listen to your old Aunt Maudie and use the common sense that God gave you, girl. Go to church on a Sunday and be right flirty with the boyos there. And if they show you some attention, you just go and show it back to them.
Dear Auntie Maude:
I'm at my wits' end. Me and my husband, Michael, have been married five years now. I thought we had a happy marriage, but lately he seems indifferent and unresponsive to my needs. We both have careers that keep us very busy. Plus he has started taking clogging lessons that last 'till all hours of the night. We have no children to distract us, and I can't understand this, as I have always been a good and considerate wife. I'm afraid we may be growing apart or that he may have developed a "wandering" eye. Do you think I should confront him on my fears? - Craving Affection
Dear Craving, Ah my dear young thing, this is a tale Auntie Maude hears all too often these days. My heart goes out to you. Before you go complaining and pestering the man you need to look to yourself and see if you might just be part of the problem. Have you been keepin' yourself up girl? Do you ever do anything to add a bit of coal to the fire? Have you been makin' his favorite potato soup now? Remember what they say: "Men are like bagpipes; no sound comes from them 'till they're full." Now you also tellin' me that after five years you have no wee ones. Must I be reportin' you to the pope now? Have you been doin' your wifely duties by him? Remember this too: "It's no use carrying an umbrella if your shoes are leaking." Take that advice to heart my dear. You tell me that he is now taking clogging lessons that last a wee bit longer than they might. Could it be that your clogger is just a bit light in his loafers?
Dear Auntie Maude:
I'm writing you with a problem that has just started plaguing me. After years of enjoying a stainless reputation in my town, I find that rumors are being circulated that I have a terrible drinking problem. I assure you, nothing could be further from the truth. Aside from the rare and occasional sip of the spirits, I swear to you that I am as sober as a judge. Please help me to address this malicious attack on my character. - Absolutely Appalled
Dear A. A. Now who do you think you're trying to fool Terri Fitzjordy? Why, sure and I've seen you with my own two eyes staggerin' down the road three sheets to the wind on far too many occasions.
As for the problem just "starting to plague" you, you've been the talk of this town since Hector was a pup and then some boyo! And as for your "stainless" reputation, I'll have to be telling you that the only stains are from the wee bit of Guinness that are spillin' from your mouth every mornin', noon and night.
And another thing my fine lad, you're referrin' to sober judges. The less I'll be sayin' on that the better. Now do be takin' this old Irish advice to heart boyo: "Drink is the curse of the land. It makes you fight with your neighbor. It makes you shoot at your landlord. And it makes you miss him."
Am I speaking plain enough to you? Now Auntie Maude is not above taking the wee nip myself every now and again, but surely it's only for medicinal purposes, you understand.
Dear Miss Maudie,
I'm a young attractive girl of 45 and have always considered myself to be a modern today kind of woman. Lately my boyfriend, Sean, has been pressuring me to consummate our relationship of 10 years. I don't want to be perceived as a prude, however my mother always warned me that men are only after one thing, and once they get it, will leave you soiled and abandoned. I am in a real quandary over this as I am torn between my boyfriend's desires and my own sense of morality. Please tell me what I should do. - Not a Strumpet
Dear Strumpet: Saints preserve us girl! Where is your head? You're only 45 years old and have plenty of time for sowing your oats.
Remember, he'll not buy the cow if the milk is peddled away for free in the market place for all to be seeing. Maudie understands your dilemma, and your need to make your boyfriend happy. However, if you've been dallying around for these 10 years with no more than a flirtin' smile and the toss of your hair, I see no reason to start sullying your reputation at this point. And another thing, your boyfriend must be a saint of a man to be putting up with your shenanigans these many years.
Lose him my girl! Surely no good will be comin' from your giving into his animal desires at this point. Well I can remember myself as a young wisp of a lass all the temptations the boyos presented to me with their brawny muscles and sweet talking ways. However, I was firm in my convictions, as were they in their own way and I'm here to tell ya, I'm a better and stronger woman for it and can look Father Pat in the eye with nary a downward cast. And don't be listening to the tongue wagging of that old gossip Ethel O'Rourke, why she has a tongue that would clip a hedge she has. So for pity's sake child, either do the deed or get on with your life and search for greener pastures so to speak. What do you have to lose, I'm here to ask ya.
A word about Maudie
Auntie Maudie arrived with the relaunched Celtic Mirror in March 2003, and the editors were honest about her from the first paragraph: semi-fictitious, for entertainment, not to be taken seriously. Readers sent questions to an email address printed under the column; we have left it out of this restoration.
She belongs to a very old trade. The first known advice column ran in 1690 in "The Athenian Mercury," a London sheet whose bookseller founder, John Dunton, recruited experts to answer readers' questions. Dorothy Dix began her American column in 1896, and by 2000 the twin syndicated giants, Ann Landers and Dear Abby, each appeared in more than 500 newspapers. The British gave the job its nickname, the agony aunt, and later found room for the agony uncle.
Maudie's twist is that she does not pretend to be neutral. She scolds, she gossips about Ethel O'Rourke, she names Terri Fitzjordy in print, and she would plainly rather you went to church on a Sunday and flirted than wrote to her at all. The voice is the stage Irish aunt of a thousand Irish-American kitchens, and the column leans on the proverbs such aunts kept handy: the bagpipes, the leaking shoes, the cow and the free milk.
Read in 2026, a few of her punchlines have aged worse than others. The crack about a clogging husband being "light in his loafers" is a joke at gay men's expense that a magazine would think twice about now. We have restored it as printed, because this is an archive and the point of an archive is to show what was actually said. The rest of her advice, to stop looking for love in a state facility and to own up to the Guinness, holds up fine.
Questions readers ask
What is an agony aunt?
An agony aunt is the colloquial British name for a newspaper or magazine advice columnist who answers readers' personal problems, usually about love, family and etiquette. Male columnists became known as agony uncles. The format is old: the first known advice column appeared in 1690 in The Athenian Mercury, a London publication founded by the bookseller John Dunton.
What was the first advice column?
The first known advice column ran in 1690 in The Athenian Mercury in London. Its founder, the bookseller John Dunton, gathered a group of experts to answer questions sent in by readers. The form spread widely later: Dorothy Dix began her American column in 1896, and Ann Landers and Dear Abby each ran in more than 500 papers by 2000.
Was Auntie Maudie a real person?
Auntie Maudie was presented by the Celtic Mirror (An Scáthán) in its March 2003 relaunch as a semi-fictitious character, a wise, old, gray Irish auntie whose answers were written for entertainment rather than real counsel. The editors said so plainly in the column's introduction. Her letters covered romance, marriage, drink and reputation, all answered in a broad Irish brogue.
Who were Ann Landers and Dear Abby?
Ann Landers and Dear Abby were two of the most prominent syndicated American advice columns of the late twentieth century, and by 2000 each was carried by more than 500 newspapers. They stood in a line of American advice writing that goes back to Dorothy Dix, who began her column in 1896, and to The Athenian Mercury in London in 1690.
