Country Grammar

Personally, I've always been at a weird spot.  

I was born in Connecticut.  Which, if you read one of my previous posts, you'd already know.

I spent a good third of my life in New York.  I have an accent.  It's interesting, because people from Connecticut don't really have accents either.  They're the Minnesota of the East Coast.

But I have an accent.  

I spent too much time with Aunt (I say Awwnts) and Uncles to have developed it any better.  Both of my parents have English as their second language as well, so I just picked up what I heard.

We moved here a long time ago.  Long enough ago that my brother doesn't have the accent.  I've learned, in my years here, to speak this gibberish Minnesotans call English.  

I refuse to say "pop".

Or "melk".

Or "pellow".

Or "ruff".

My coffee is said to have a "w" in it.

I pronounce things in ways that I can't even explain how they're said.  But not always.

Really.  Only when I'm tired, or crabby, or upset, or distracted, or I've been talking for too long.  After I've forgotten what I'm supposed to sound like.   

It's funny, but an accent makes people uncomfortable sometimes.  It's also funny that my accent makes me uncomfortable sometimes, too.  Because I don't feel like one of you.

I don't like football.  I sure as hell don't like basketball.  But I do love baseball.  And I don't like hockey.  You should love the teams you love unconditionally.  Not just when they win.  My favorite teams: The Patriots, The Knicks, The Yankees and the Hartford Whalers.

That's right.  The Hartford Fucking Whalers.  Don't remember them?  I'm not surprised, you're too young.  But they existed.  I still have a souvenir puck.

That's my accent.  A souvenir puck.