I’ve lived in a number of different states and, to my ear, I have an almost non-accent, although every once in a while I hear that telltale Dallas drawl creep into some of my words. “Real” Texans have no problem detecting that I’m naturalized, not a native. However, that’s not the case from people north of the Mason-Dixon line. I was at a conference in Chicago and was introduced to someone. The only thing I said was, “Hello,” whereupon the person promptly blurted out, “And what part of the South are you from?”
Actually, Texas is such a large state that we have several different accents. The people in West Texas tend to flatten their vowels, but those of us in East Texas, closer to the southern states of Arkansas, Louisiana, and Mississippi have more of a Southern flair to our language.
Even though I’m not a native, there are a few things I’ve learned about speaking American Southern.
The first is the difference between singular and plural. “You” is singular. “You all” (or “Ya’all”) is plural. If someone from the South says, “Ya’all need to come see us.” They mean you, your family, your neighbors, your friends, and any kith or kin that might be visiting at the time and most anyone you pass on the road on the way. EVERYBODY is invited.
The second thing is that there is no such thing as a word with a single syllable. In fact, the most colorful four-letter words are drawn out to three or four syllables depending on the amount of emotion to be conveyed. (Such as, “D—-a—-yum, girl, that is some fine she–e—yut you’re wearing.”)
So I guess what I’m here to tell ya’all is that I’m in the midst of a fla-yure. It’s better today, but I think that the Enbrel just hasn’t had a chance to catch back up after being off for so long during surgery. In addition, think the stress of the past week has finally caught up with me combined with the rain that Hurricane Alex has flung this far north. But tomorrow is Saturday and I get to sleep late and get some R&R over the rest of the weekend, so that will be a good thing.
I don’t often post jokes, but after the whining I’ve done lately, I thought I’d end today’s post with one. Actually, it would be funny if it weren’t so true:
Do you know what a redneck’s last words are?
“Here, hold my beer and watch this.”
Hope you all have lots of laughter in your day. Thanks for checking in.
(laughing) Oh, my, Carla. I spent several months in Texas when I was in Air Force basic training at San Antonio, and then for more training after that at Goodfellow AFB in San Angelo. To a girl who’d grown up in California, Texas seemed like another country entirely. And it wasn’t very long before “ya’all” became an automatic part of my daily conversation. I liked it, too! It worked so well!
I visited Dallas once, when Mr Wren (this was before we were married) and I went to a huge concert there. About all I remember is that the stadium was literally packed to the doors with people, it was terrifically hot with no shade, and that concert workers would come along now and then and spray us all down with fire hoses to, I guess, keep us from passing out from heat exhaustion. Do you know, I can’t even remember which bands we were there to listen to? It was that horrific.
Not Dallas’s fault, of course. Oh, those memories.
I hope that “flay-ure” of yours will ease as you relax for the weekend. Have a great one!
(GG) I remember that southern drawl from when I lived in Virginia for a couple years. My office-mate would say, “g’nawt y’all” when she left every afternoon, and since I was the only one left it always seemed a bit of an insult. Cultural differences, I guess
I’m sorry about the flare and hope the Enbrel starts doing its job so that you’re feeling better soon.